#do you think he did his dishes before leaving to go tear down the veil

[mythalism]

i just still cannot fucking believe that our home base in this game is Solas’s sad little divorced dad fade bachelor pad where he has spent 10 years alone painting on the walls and eating the thedas equivalent of stovetop ramen and we are going to get to rummage through his sock drawer. like if you had told me this in 2018 i would NEVER have believed you. we are gonna get to PSYCHOANALYZE his KITCHEN!?!?!?!?!?!

[ri-ships-takari]

as night the day [ch 1]

pairing: takeru x hikari summary: The world has changed since Takeru lost his digimon, since Hikari broke off their engagement, and since he moved to Paris to get away from it all. [ao3, ffnet] note: had this in the drafts for so long and finally got to writing this piece of chaos for @campdigimonth earlier this month, but just got to editing it now ^___^;

The tears fall as she pleads, “Don’t trade your dreams for me, Takeru.”

“I would in a heartbeat.”

“I know you would! That's why you shouldn't!” Takeru can only stare at her in confusion, until her spasm of sobs settles down and she continues, “because I couldn’t.”

What dreams may come

The sun sets on this perfect day, painting Hikari’s path home a brilliant golden hue.

She is walking home after a long, rewarding day of work, at the first digimon integrated school in the countryside. As she arrives, she finds the home filled with the aroma of a meal fresh from the fire. Takeru is in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

“Got out early today?” she asks, taking a seat at the table.

He nods, not turning from the dish he is assembling on the countertop. “Patamon’s just finished picking fruit out back for dessert,” he says.

“Patamon? How did he…?”

“It’s almost time to cut the cake.”

“What cake?”

“The wedding cake.”

As Hikari opens her mouth to ask, there is pounding on the front door. Somehow she already knows who they are, even before the protestors reach the kitchen windows to roar, “Begone Digimon!”

She stands to pull the curtains, as years of school safety drills have trained her to. It is only when she almost trips on her trail that she realizes: she is in a wedding dress. Takeru comes to lift her veil, carrying a cake knife in one hand, and the cake in question in the other.

The two layer affair is otherwise perfectly innocuous, if not for the fact that it is a mesh of instant ramen noodles, soup and toppings spilling over its sides.

“Take this,” Takeru says, offering her the knife to cut the first slice.

He lays the ramen cake on the table before them, freeing a hand to gently caress Hikari’s cheek. It remains here as their eyes meet, and hold each other in a moment, as the roar of the radicals echo all around them.

“Come on, take it,” he whispers into her ear, entwining his other hand in hers to pass her the cutting knife, before everything bursts into a blinding light.

“We need you to take this.”

“Mmnph?” Hikari blinks weakly into the light.

“If we can’t get that fever back down I’m taking you back to the hospital.”

“What are you doing here…”

“Bringing your medicine.” There is a blister pack on her palm. A glass of water on the bedside table.

“...in Japan…?”

Takeru sighs. He reaches over to place a cool hand on her cheek once more, smoothing some ruffled hair along the way. “Maybe we should head back to the hospital after all.”

Hikari shakes her head. “Things are just… foggy.”

He hands her the glass as needed, then heads to the door to close the lights.

“I’ll be out here” he says before exiting to Hikari’s living room, leaving her to all dream and delirium — of perhaps the past, or of the present, or of some infinite fantasies of what could and could not be.

The Iron Lady is lovely but she much prefers Tokyo Tower, Hikari thinks as she stands at the top of the city of lights.

The landmark will soon close for the night and Hikari is almost alone at its summit. It’s her last night in the country — after a week in the city celebrating the completion of Takeru's masters degree — and he wanted to send her off with something special.

They were supposed to go together but the dean of his department suddenly called an urgent meeting, just as they were stepping out of his apartment. He was ready to explain that he couldn't make it, but Hikari insisted he go, saying it sounded important. With some hesitation, Takeru agreed, and so it was decided that they were to meet at the tower later that night, for Hikari’s final farewell to the city.

Takeru is running late, but this is understandable. After all, he had a lot to get in order before moving back to Tokyo.

There were thesis manuscripts, diploma applications, besides the endless list of completion requirements for his scholarship. He might need to stay a couple more weeks accomplishing them all, but Hikari was at least grateful to be seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. These past two years had been the most difficult of their relationship.

When Takeru started his master’s program, they thought the only issue would be the time difference, given international travel via Digital World was still a viable and easy mode of transport.

That was, until some enterprising Chosen had the brilliant idea of capitalizing on this as a service for those without digimon, and with no business being in the Digital World.

Soon after launching this service, the Digital World started rejecting everyone, even the Chosen, if they had no good reason being there. Those who attempted to take advantage of this were often found worse for wear — that is, if they were found at all. (It had been hypothesized that some who continued to attempt travel via this route were simply rerouted to different dimensions, though with the absence of any residual evidence, researchers were still struggling to concretize this claim.)

This forced the pair into a long distance situation they could not have prepared for. They had never truly been apart, from middle school up to university. In fact, the latter brought them only closer, as they lived together for the later half of Takeru’s degree.

The distance hit Hikari harder, as this past year especially was one of the most challenging of her life. Being a Chosen in Tokyo was changing in ways none of them could have imagined, and was especially challenging for the Chosen adults who somehow still had their digimon.

There was so much she needed to tell Takeru, so much he needed to understand of the new world he was returning to — more than any voice call could have ever sufficiently conveyed.

She had tried to broach the subject these past few months, and even the past few days since she’d been in town, but Takeru was often in such a good spirit that she simply did not have the heart to spoil it — especially considering how delicate a topic digimon were to him now.

She would tell him when he got back, when he could even see for himself. Until then, they may share their final happy moments in this city of love, before crashing back to reality back home.

As if on queue, Takeru emerges behind Hikari, enveloping her in an embrace from behind, nuzzling his nose onto the crook of her neck. Hikari can’t help but giggle as the soft tips of his blonde hair tickle the base of her ear.

“I guess someone’s happy to see me,” Takeru says, giggling now too.

“I was just appreciating the view,” she replies, raising her nose in feign disdain. At this, he too looks out to take in the stretch of city below.

“It is great now, isn’t it?”

“In great company,” she replies, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder, taking his arm in hers. Takeru instinctively wraps this arm around her, drawing her to his chest, where Hikari could almost hear the hidden beating of his heart.

“Hikari,” he says. She looks up to meet his gaze, so near that her eyelashes almost brush his nose. “Has this week been alright?”

“The best in a while,” she replies, nestling back into his chest. “I’m with you.”

“If that’s the case, how would you like to—”

Takeru breaks away.

“—be with me forever?” he continues, kneeling before her and pulling open a little velvet box from his back pocket. Inside is a simple rose gold affair, set with a single pink sapphire. A matching ring of green sapphire sits secure in Takeru’s other pocket.

Hikari is speechless. She squeals in ecstasy as she leaps into his arms and they twirl in an embrace of perfect euphoria, until Takeru misses a step and they fall together to the platform floor, laughing only harder — ditzy, dizzy, and in love.

They pause only to allow Takeru to fit the ring onto Hikari’s finger, and on him, his own, before entangling themselves once again in each other’s arms, across the observation deck floor.

“I love you, Hikari Yagami.”

“I love you, Takeru Takaishi,” she says, laying on his chest. For a moment, they are back in their tiny Tokyo apartment, before the distance and dissension, back when everything was simpler, and all was still as it should have been.

“Imagine,” Takeru says, closing his eyes, caressing Hikari’s soft hair atop his chest. “Cooking you dinner every night.”

“Making your bento every morning.”

“And waking up—” Takeru takes a breath. “—to this,” he sighs, slowly opening his eyes so that their eyes meet, and hold each other once again in this perfect moment.

“Then sending you off with a kiss,” Hikari giggles, laying a delicate kiss upon his lips before bringing herself back to lie on his chest.

“As we part before the Seine,” Takeru says wistfully.

Hikari looks up. “You mean the Sumida?” she corrects.

“I’m sorry, I almost forgot,” Takeru laughs. ”I got a job.”

“What? When?”

“Just now, they offered me an associate professorship at the department,” he says with the proudest of smiles.

“Wow,” is all Hikari could say. “Did you take it?”

“I had to run it by you first, of course.”

Hikari pulls away from Takeru to stand.

“So what do you think?” he asks, picking himself up as well.

“Do you want it?”

“Well, it’s tenure track. The department’s alright.”

“One of the best in the world,” she replies, recalling how competitive Takeru had to be to get into this university in the first place. Top of his class, of the entire history of his program, and still he had hoops to go through to get in.

After a moment of consideration, she says “You should take it.” Takeru cannot look more pleased.

“Thank you,” he says. “There’s that beautiful kindergarten right beside our building, remember? It’ll be just like before,” he says eagerly, taking her into another embrace — only this time, she does not return it.

As he pulls back to inquire why, she says, “I found a new job too.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t know you were looking.”

“I quit the preschool—”

“What? Why?”

“—last semester.”

His eyes grow with more concern, the slightest hint of betrayal. “Why didn’t you tell me?

“I just never got the chance. You were always just so busy, or too happy.”

Hikari immediately realizes that, though this is her truth, it is also an accusation. It flashes for only a second, but Hikari could not have missed the deep hurt reflected in his eyes, an expression she had only ever seen twice: each time she had seen him lose his partner.

For a minute, nothing but the crisp evening breeze passes between the two, until Hikari finally says, ”I’m sorry, I just hadn’t figured out how to explain it. It’s… a different kind of school, a digimon integrated school.”

“What does that mean?”

“Somewhere kids and their partners could learn together. About digimon, alongside digimon.”

“That’s new,” Takeru says as he attempts to process the novel concept.

“The first in Japan. Maybe the first in the world.”

Takeru takes a second more to internalize this, before he tenderly takes her hands in his, and with a satisfied smile, says, “I guess it’s time to go home then.”

But he is the only one smiling.

“That isn’t what you want, Takeru.”

“I just want to be with you,” he says, holding her hands only tighter.

She knows that he means it.

And this is why she says, “You should take the position. I’m sorry,” She drops his hands and runs down the observation deck, leaving him dumbstruck and alone, at the top of the world.

Takeru is so stunned he doesn’t come to his senses until a custodian informs him that the tower is closing for the night. He rushes down the deck to follow Hikari only to find her nowhere in sight.

After countless missed calls, he scours the tower grounds calling her name, only stopping when a policeman threatens to arrest him for disturbing the peace at such an unhallowed hour.

He needs a plan. He makes a list of all the places she could have possibly gone in the city. By this time though, his phone is dying, so he decides his first stop should be the apartment to charge, lest she finally call back only to find his line dead.

To his surprise, he finds Hikari’s bags packed neatly by the apartment door, boarding pass peeking timidly from one of its outer pockets. Hikari is fast asleep on the sofa bed, so exhausted that she doesn't even stir when Takeru sits to stroke her tousled hair. It’s only when he gets this close that he finds her pillow wet with tears.

Pale moonlight falls on both the woman before him and the city about them — these two he had been his home these past few difficult years.

Torn between the city of lights and the light of his life, he looks first at Hikari, then out to the cityscape below, before deciding what he has to do.

The morning was a mad rush to catch Hikari’s flight. She was so tired from the night that she slept through the morning news, three alarms, and only awoke when Takeru tenderly kissed her into waking, whispering the sweet, sultry nothing, “We’ve got ten minutes to get to the airport.”

She could not have been more thankful for the Takaishis that morning, for Takeru had already loaded her luggage into the trunk, and both his grandfather and the old beetle were revved up and ready to go the second they dashed out the door.

With the old man at the wheel, she was sure of two things: that she would catch her flight, and that they had both just lost about an inch of their lives (maybe two, with the express knowledge that the vehicle had long ruined seat belts and no airbags.)

When they arrive at the drop-off, Hikari checks that her passport and boarding pass remain intact, while Takeru and his grandfather unload her bags from the trunk. It is only when she emerges from the car that she finds more luggage than she had packed and Takeru hugging his grandfather goodbye.

As they break apart, Takeru says, “Almost forgot,” as he hands the older man his apartment keys.

“You two take care. And again, congratulations,” the man replies, heading back to the driver’s seat. “Don’t forget my favorite drinks at the reception!” he shouts, speeding away as abruptly as they’d arrived.

“What are you doing? Hikari asks, certain that this must be a mistake.

“Catching our flight,” Takeru replies, flashing his own freshly printed boarding pass, with his usual cheeky grin.

“When did…?”

“Last night. I wanted to tell you but someone fell asleep on me,” he says in a good-hearted tease.

“But all the paperwork—”

“Grandpa’s on it. I gave him everything he needs while waiting for you to wake up,” he explains. “Come on, we’ll miss our flight,” he says, reaching for her hand, but she only pulls away.

“This isn’t what you want, Takeru.”

“I just want to be with you.”

This hurts all the more because she knows that it’s true, and that he has absolutely no idea what this now implies. How could she ask him to forgo his better for her worse?

The tears fall as she pleads, “Don’t trade your dreams for me, Takeru.”

“I would in a heartbeat.”

“I know you would! That's why you shouldn't!”

Takeru can only stare at her in confusion, until her spasm of sobs settles down and she continues, “because I couldn’t.”

With this, Hikari witnesses the precise moment when Takeru realizes what had tormented her all night: that it wasn’t a question of geography, but of fair reciprocity.

He was ready to sacrifice his career for her, while she could not say she would do the same. She wasn’t going to give up the digimon school. Not after a lifetime of wishing for it, and not after realizing its need. How could she ask him to forfeit his future for hers, when she could not?

The airport speakers pop into life. Their gate is open. Standby for boarding.

“Come on, we could talk on the plane,” Takeru says, reaching for her once again. She pulls only further away, shaking her head.

“Hikari,” he says delicately, trying to find her eyes through her crestfallen fringe. “Is this really what you want?”

He waits for a response, but she simply bites her lips, suppressing all audacity and selfish desire, until the speakers blare once again.

As they echo their crackling call, all she can say is, “I’m sorry,” as she reaches for her baggage and rushes to the terminal, leaving him once again, all alone in the city of lights.

[more-stuff-of-pi]

I’ll Fight For You

a/n: lmao i swear i’m fine, just needed good ol’ kiri to assist me in a v self-indulgent fic. also, sorry for taking forever to write something yoinks

notes: did i read through this after i wrote it? nope. we’re fucking rolling with the audacity of not even a single ounce of beta-ing. requests are open :) find my masterlist here

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader | genre: angst (w/happy ending) / hurt/comfort | warnings: abusive mother (mental/verbal), a father who doesn’t intervene | word count: 2,018

Your boyfriend was practically vibrating with nerves as he adjusted his hair in the mirror. It was artfully piled on top of his head, his dark roots making a sharp contrast against the vibrant red.

“Ei,” you smiled, “you’re gonna be fine.”

He worried his sharp teeth against his bottom lip, frowning all the while. “But what if they--?”

“They’re going to love you, Ei. Probably even more than they love me,” you joke, coming up behind Eijirou’s monstrously large form. Hero work had been both kind and harsh on him but he made it look effortlessly good. You gently slid your arms around his waist as you angled yourself so that you could still eye his reflection.

“I’m just… worried, is all.”

You cock your eyebrow. “About what, Ei?”

He incredulously meets your gaze through the mirror. “What do you mean, about what?!”

It dawns on you a little bit. “Oh, well, she’s not going to be mean to you, Ei. She knows how to play nice when it counts. And you, good sir, count.”

“That’s not as reassuring as it is worrying, you know.”

“My mother is just a little intense, babe, it’s nothing I’m not used to. Like I said, she knows how to tone it down in front of others. I’m sure tonight will be fine. I probably just exaggerate everytime I whine about her, so she’s probably not even half as bad as I make her sound,” you shrug, leaning more into Eijirou’s side.

“Baby,” he sighs, twisting a little to look directly at you, no mirror this time. His eyes are sad yet firm as if wishing you to understand that there’s no need to defend yourself with him.

You squeeze him tighter before letting go and walking to the door. “C’mon, we’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”

❁

You always forget that you don’t really ever exaggerate your mother’s behavior towards you until you’re around her again. Everything as far as introducing your boyfriend to your parents has been going incredibly smoothly. Your dad enthusiastically engaged Eijirou in hero stories, talking about Red Riot’s  most recent media appearance where he was dressed in pajamas and carrying tubs of various ice creams you both had wanted to try when he dropped everything to prevent a construction beam from falling on clueless bystanders. Only one tub of ice cream had survived and luck had it that it was your least favorite flavor combination. Your mother praised Eijirou for his success and his coupling good looks at which she winked, making your boyfriend flush both at the phrase and the uncomfortable comments your mother directed at him. You winced at that, having forgotten to prepare him for the habitual talent your mother had of sexualizing anything, especially if it would ‘embarrass’ her child.

Your mother had made off handed comments throughout the whole night that you seemed to be the only one to pick up on. Your dad might have noticed a few but, as usual, he only looked at you apologetically, never interrupting his wife to stand up for you.

As much as you loved both of your parents and as much as they had their good moments, this fucking sucked.

“--not that she’s any good with that quirk of hers, of course,” your mother snickered as she brought the glass to her lips. You had become a good actor over the years in order to avoid your mother’s bullying over your ‘sensitiveness’, but something about her dismissing your hard work always immediately dismantled whatever mask you had thrown on. To cover what you know must be a crestfallen look, you give a laugh, something that could be called half-hearted at best. Your eyes remained trained on your food. “Oh come on, Y/n, that was funny.”

You chuckled again, hoping to force some genuineness into it. “Yeah--”

“No, it wasn’t,” Eijirou immediately cuts you off, voice straining with anger. You felt your face drain of blood as you noticed how tightly he was gripping his chopsticks. He was fuming. You don’t think you’d ever seen him angry before. The thought scared you. “That was just mean.”

Your mother quirked an unimpressed, subtly pissed brow at your boyfriend. “Don’t be sensitive, Eijirou. House rules: if it’s mean but funny, it’s okay.”

“As long as you get a laugh from it, it’s okay to abuse your child?” He spits at her like venom.

Your mother sets her glass down, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard--”

You slap a hand over Eijirou’s bicep, squeezing so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up bruising. “It’s fine! Nothing I’m used to! I grew up on the ‘if it’s mean but funny’ rule, so it’s fine.”

The look he gave you was of incredulous anger. “No, it is not--!”

“Please, Ei. Please, just--,” you averted your eyes, ashamed of your own familiar defeat. “Just sit.”

Shamefully, you slide back into your seat, nervously smoothing out a napkin back onto your lap. Eijirou still stood beside you, staring daggers at your mother who effortlessly returned it. His fists were balled, the veins in his hands flexing with the effort of restraining himself. His jaw snapped shut with an audible clamp as he resolved himself to sitting back down.

Your dad clears his throat, more so than necessary as if the harder he did it, the better he could dissipate the tension. “Done, everyone?” No one answers him. He takes that as the go ahead to begin clearing dishes, desperately jumping at the opportunity to escape your mother’s impending tantrum. You loved your dad very much but, god, he was nothing if not a coward, always leaving you to fight your own battles. You don’t think you’ve ever won.

Your mother returns her cold attention to you, the ice starting to thicken and your mother’s hollow kindness starting to retreat along with her patience. “What are you even doing to help train your quirk, sweetie?”

Taken aback, you met her gaze. “W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t ever see you doing anything at all to help. You do realize that training takes work, right? What does it take? It takes--,” your mother trailed off, flourishing both hands to motion for you to finish the sentence.

“Effort--”

“Effort!” She clapped with your word. “It takes effort! And I only want the best for you, sweetheart, which is why I’m just asking what you’re doing. From where I stand, it doesn’t look like you’re doing anything at all to help improve yourself! As your mother, your concerned mother, I’m just looking out for you, sweetheart.”

Your mind is reeling at her words. You so badly want to defend yourself, assert all of the effort that you have painstakingly put in-- but you are reminded of the precise way your mother is able to leech any ounce of power or confidence from you. You would think that was her quirk if you didn’t know any better. “Mom, I am putting effort in, I train almost everyday--”

“Do you really?” Her voice drips with venomous shock. “It certainly doesn’t look like you do,” she gestures vaguely at you, eyeing your body with a vulture’s gaze. “Maybe you should consider morning and night. Oh! And a diet change, too. You know, since the popular heroes have a specific look to them and I just want to make sure that you can fit that. Since it’s your dream to be a popular hero. Like I said, you have to be willing to put in the effort. Oh, sweetie, don’t look at me like that. You know the difficult position I’m in! Trying to encourage you and help you achieve your dreams while not seeming too enthusiastic. You’re putting that stress on me, sweetie, I’m only trying to help.”

It really was incredible how quickly your mother could erase any confidence you had. Normally, you would stand beaming, more than happy to assert yourself and stand up for yourself and others. All it took was a couple words from your mother, and you turned into a dog with its head down and its tail between its legs, fearful of its master.

Your gut sank and hatred swirled throughout your body for both yourself and her as you once again let her have power over you. “You’re right. Sorry, Mom--”

“Do you know where your daughter ranks as a hero?”

Stunned, you both glanced at Eijirou, having almost completely forgotten that he was there. Throughout her tirade, you had felt a tragically familiar loneliness, used to having to defend yourself when no one, not even your other family members, would. Used to always submitting and used to the shame that always accompanied your forced silence.

“What?” She spat.

“I asked if you knew your daughter’s ranking. I just was wondering, is all. It would make sense if you weren’t aware that she ranks in the top 30 since you were asking about the effort she puts in. I would think that that accomplishment -- at such a young age, too, might I add -- was evidence enough of the countless hours, blood, sweat, and tears that she has poured into this. The effort she’s painstakingly put in. You’re right that being a hero is her dream, and she’s a damn good one, too. Saved my life more than once with ‘that quirk of hers’,” he sneered bitterly. “And, on top of that, she’s so beautiful through and through that sometimes it’s all I can do to stare at her in awe. Your thinly veiled shaming of her appearance is never the result of a mother’s so-called difficult situation, only the result of your own insecurities.”

Eijirou suddenly stands, having finally had more than enough for one night. “The only gratitude I will ever have towards you is for bringing this wonderful woman into this world. I hope one day you’ll actually realize how amazing your daughter is and how proud of her you ought to be. Because I am. I am so incredibly proud of her and her accomplishments and the results of her efforts.”

“And who’s to say that I’m not proud of her, Eijirou?”

He scoffs. Eijirou, the kindest, most patient man you know, scoffs in your mother’s face. “Haven’t you ever heard that actions speak louder than words?”

Your mother gapes up at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. In that moment, she resembles a fish and you couldn’t be more pleased with that comparison.

“He’s right, mom.” You rise to join him. “I know you love me. I have no choice but to believe it because I think it would destroy me if I didn’t. But maybe someday I won’t constantly have to defend myself to you and you’ll accept the things I say without dismissing them. You always say you admire me most for my assertiveness but you shut me down anytime I use it to stand up for myself against you. And that makes you nothing but a hypocrite.” You stare her down, reveling in the confidence Eijirou gives you in this thing against your mother. For the first time, you are not alone as you fight this battle. For the first time, you have help. And for the first time, you feel like you’ve won. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

You take Eijirou’s hand and lead him out of the house, leaving your parents to stare after you in shock. As soon as you make it out, cold air hits you like a slap in the face that harshly wakes you from a daze.

“Holy shit, Ei, did I just stand up to my mom?”

He laughs and squeezes your hand. “It was pretty manly, too.” You laugh breathlessly, still in disbelief as you push your other fist against his arm. “And you know,” he continues, “that I’m the best judge of that.”

“That must mean a lot,” you grin, swinging your linked hands between you as you walk further from your parents’ home, feeling the fullness of a good meal and a battle won.

taglist: @samwrights, @mayaoliviee, @luluwiie​, @gigglyparker​ (i thought i would tag you since you commented on the draft that i posted of this, hope you don’t mind <3)

[the-broken-truth]

Donna with a raven s/o trying to get Angie to like him (platonic) 🧑🐾

A Raven's Kindness - Donna Beneviento x Male Raven Shifter Reader w/ Angie [Platonic]

Broken Truth: For those who don't know - A Group of Ravens is known as an unkindness. Interesting fact, don't you think?

- Quick Key -

[Y/N] - YOUR FIRST NAME

[L/N] - YOUR LAST/SURNAME/FAMILY NAME

[H/C] - HAIR COLOR

[H/L] - HAIR LENGTH

[E/C] - EYE COLOR

[S/C] - SKIN COLOR

il mio corvo - My Raven (Italian) (Remember - Donna is Italian, not Romanian.)

"For the last time - I don't want it, you stupid bird-man!" yelled a small but feisty voice as the keeper of the voice something in the face of the man sitting before her, making him grunt suddenly and his large black wings to twitch at the sudden slap to his face. As he lifted his [S/C] hands to his face to remove the item, the sound of little feet running away made his heart heavy before he removed the item and saw the wedding veiled doll disappear around a corner. Sadness filled the man's [E/C] eyes as he looked down at the newly sown dress in his hands before he closed his eyes to keep from crying.

This man was [Y/N] [L/N] - The Raven Hybrid of the Misty Forest, and the Lover of the Head of House Beneviento, Donna. He was a tall man with a slim but muscular build - he had [H/C] [H/L] hair and [E/C] eyes with a few scars trailing along his hands and forearms with a few on his face. He met Donna when he found her in his part of the woods looking for some flowers that grew in the darkest part of the forest where the sun never shined its light; she was going to get attacked by a wolf pack that was starving but he was perched in the tree above her and swooped down and saved her. She invited him to come to Beneviento Manor to tend to his wounds and she offered him a place to stay. After sharing each other's secrets, a relationship developed between the two but there was one problem.

Angie.

No matter what [Y/N] did, he couldn't seem to get the doll to accept him as Donna's Partner - today was the latest attempt. He researched the arts of sewing and knitting to make Angie a new dress and she just threw it in his face. He opened his eyes - letting tears fall upon the new dress - when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he wiped his eyes and looked over his shoulder to see the face of his love and lady behind him.

"She didn't like it?" Donna asked.

"She threw it in my face." [Y/N] exhaled before he placed the dress on the table he was sitting at. "I don't know what to do anymore, Donna; everything I tried gets thrown back in my face or destroyed before me. She hates me, Donna, and I don't know how to get her to accept me." the man exhaled - obviously tired of trying over and over again only to be rejected and talked down upon.

"I'm sorry this is going on, il mio corvo. But I'm sure she'll come around soon and accept you - she knows I love you, I'm sure she'll come around to love you too." Donna gave a smile to reassure the man but for some reason - he thought it was going to get worse before it got better, if it did at all.

[Around Dinnertime]

[Y/N] placed Donna's plate in front of her before he went to his seat and sat in the chair before starting to eat. Donna took a sip of the tea [Y/N] gave her before widening her eyes and looked at the tea - it wasn't the lemon or black forest tea she was used to. It was more...minty but still very good.

'Love, what kind of tea is this?" Donna asked as she looked at the raven-winged man before her.

"It's peppermint tea." [Y/N] said as he stopped eating to look her in the eyes and speak to her. Before Donna could open her mouth to speak to tell him it was a perfect tea to add to the list, the wedding-dressed doll spoke up, or rather, yelled.

"Peppermint Tea?! Are you stupid, bird brain?! You know Donna only drinks Black Forest or Lemon Tea and you have the nerve to bring her

peppermint?!" Angie yelled as she glared at the man.

"The Tea Vendor was all out of stock with Donna's usual teas and I didn't want to come home empty-handed. He recommended the Peppermint Tea as a good 'before bed' kind of tea & Donna told me that she was having hard times sleeping." [Y/N] defended himself before the doll yelled again.

"For the last time - this is NOT your home! Your 'home' is the wilds where Donna found you before she decided to bring you here! You're not more than a guest - a guest who's more than overstayed their welcome!" [Y/N] couldn't take anymore.

"Then what do you want me to do, Angie?! You've done nothing but be rude and spiteful towards me since I got here and it's been worse when Donna and I told you we were dating! Nothing I do seems to please you! Just tell me - how can I make you happy?!" [Y/N] begged to know, tired of the back and forth, wanting a straight answer so he could make Donna's Porcelain Daughter happy.

"Isn't it obvious?! I want you to leave! I don't want you here! I don't want you dating my mother! I don't want you around our home! I want you out and never to return, you stupid bird freak!!!" Angie yelled as loud as her non-existent lungs would allow.

"ANGIE!!!" Donna shrieked in horror at what she just said to the raven-winged man, who just looked wide-eyed at the doll before his head lowered, his hair casting shadows that blocked his face. Donna watched in horror as [Y/N] rose from his seat and walked around the table and went up the stairs to the room that Donna let him call his own before they began sharing a room.

Donna rose to her feet, striding after the man, and turned the corner just in time to see the door to the room close and the sound of it locking. The Head of House Beneviento started knocking on the door, begging [Y/N] to let her in so that they could talk about it but the man didn't open the door, only telling her that they would talk in the morning.

Donna began sobbing as her forehead rested on the hardwood of the door, she was so consumed in her sadness that she didn't hear Angie walk up behind her.

"Why are you crying over that freak, Mother? He's not worth your tears." Angie scoffed but that scummy behavior went down her throat as Donna turned her face to glare at the doll.

"Don't you dare call him that - He's not a freak...You never call someone that - not when you know how it affected us all the time ago." Donna removed herself from the door. "I've never been so disappointed in you, Angie. After everything, he's done to get you to accept him and you treat him like that." Donna balled up her fist before she walked to her room and slammed the door, leaving the doll stunned in the hall.

[The Next Morning]

Angie floated down the stairs to meet her mother and the raven-man at the table for breakfast but once the table was in her sights, she noticed a few things out of place:

Her mother was at the breakfast table with a piece of paper in her hands and sobbing.

There was no breakfast on the table - there weren't even any dishes on the table.

There was no raven-man bring food out of the kitchen. Hell - there was no raven-man at all.

Angie floated to her mother and stepped on the table.

"Mother? What's wrong? Did that Raven-Man do something to you?" Angie asked. Donna said nothing just sobbed harder and handed Angie the note; the doll read the note and her eyes would have gotten wider if they could.

"I return home. Please forget me, Donna. Angie, please take care of your mother and forgive me for overstaying my welcome."

- Raven-Freak.

'He... He actually left?' Angie asked herself as she read the note again. She looked at her mother's crying face - able to feel her sorrow through the bond they shared through the Cadou. Angie reached out to give the dollmaker and comforting touch but Donna moved away from the doll, glaring at her with tears rushing down her face before she stood and rose to her feet and ran upstairs to her room, locking herself inside.

"Mother?" the doll whimpered.

[3 Days Later]

It had been 72 Hours since [Y/N] left and things weren't the same: The house seemed quieter, Donna rarely spoke to Angie; she didn't even play with her or the other dolls. Even a good number of the dolls stopped talking to Angie or even playing with her - angry at her for making their 'Bird Dad' leave House Beneviento.

Angie couldn't understand it - it was just a raven-freak; how could it make almost everyone turn against her when she had been with them since Donna's Father built her.

"You don't get it, do you, Angie?" Asked a weak male voice, Angie turned around to see it was one of the male dolls dressed as a clown.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything wrong." Angie pouted.

"But you did. Think about it - all the people that have ever come to House Beneviento ran away either out of fear of the dolls or Mother's Scar; all of them except for [Y/N]. He stayed with us, never judged us, and treated us with respect and love, just as he's done for Mother. He would read to us, fix our clothes, make us knew clothes, talk to us; as if we were real children because he thought we were, we are mother's children and since he loved her, he loved us and accepted us. Don't you see what you took away from mother? Away from all of us? We finally had a family - a happy family, but you had to destroy that because of what?" The male doll asked.

"I...I...I didn't..."Angie tried to defend herself.

"But you did. Name one person who really loved mother for her." The male doll said.

"Mother Miranda!" Angie was quick.

"When was the last time Mother Miranda came here to spend time with her adopted daughter? Never. All she wants is her blood daughter back." The male doll said.

"What about Alcina?" Angie asked.

"Never gave Mother the time of day, not even at the lord meetings; none of the lords have." countered the male doll.

Angie tried to say something but she knew her brother was telling the truth - no one has loved her mother as [Y/N] did, has been there for her mother as much as [Y/N] has, held her mother as much as [Y/N] has.

'What have I done?' Angie's heart shivered as she floated out of the doll room, down the stairs and out the front door, through the estate gate, and down the path into the Misty Forest - where the sun never shined its light.

"[Y/N]! WHERE ARE YOU?! [Y/N], PLEASE COME OUT! I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!!!" Tears would be running down Angie's face if she had a human body, she came to a clearing surrounded by trees as she fell to her knees, sobbing at the fact she's destroyed her mother and siblings' happiness by being jealous and afraid that [Y/N] would take her mother away from her and she would be along. The doll quietly sobbed to herself when she heard growling all around her - she lifted her head to see she was surrounded by wolves, at least 8 of them...and they looked hungry.

Angie began to shiver in fear - without the pollen or things to control, she wasn't able to defend herself. She closed her eyes waiting for the end until she feels something shielding her from the wolves, as well as hearing the wolves whimper in fear. She looked and gasped when she saw familiar wings circled around her in a protective way.

A familiar scarred hand picked her up and she was lifted into the air as she began floating back in the direction of House Beneviento.

Upon returning - the figure holding her placed her on the ground after descending; she turned to see [Y/N] looking down at her with concerned eyes.

"Angie, what were you thinking going into that part of the forest? You could have been hurt." [Y/N] said with worry laced in his voice. The doll jumped into his chest, making the raven-winged man gasp and hug the doll so she wouldn't fall. "Angie, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for yelling at you! I was jealous! Scared that you would and mom would have a child and forget about me! I didn't want to be alone!" Angie cried into his chest.

"Angie..." She looked at him, "Donna would never leave you, plus I care for you and all the dolls as if you were my own kids. I just wanted you to accept me so that you would feel comfortable around me; I want to be good for your mom and you, along with your siblings." He explained.

"You...You aren't mad at me?" Angie asked with a shaking voice.

"Of course not!" [Y/N] hugged the doll tightly. "I love you, Angie."

Angie hugged the raven hybrid and sobbed her little heart out, completely unaware of her mother and siblings watching them.

After all that happened, [Y/N] moved back into House Beneviento and Donna returned to normal...except Angie was always riding on [Y/N]'s Shoulder and started calling him 'Papa', never waiting to be apart from him. Donna started wondering if [Y/N] was going replace her as Angie's Favorite Parent.

[markandlexies]

The One With Will and JJ’s Wedding - Part 1

Summary: Based off of 7.23 and 7.24 of Friends! Will and JJ’s wedding is approaching and troubles arise when Will starts to panic and doesn't want to go through with it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (Female) 

Word Count: 5,115k

A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this but I love Friends and Criminal Minds and this is one of my favorite plot lines ever. I could make this a series if anybody is interested, again I’m new to this and barely even know how to use Tumblr lmao so pls be nice!!! There isn't all that much pairing of Spence and reader here but I really loved writing the relationships between the characters and I’ll def go more into detail in later chapters! If you guys have an Friends episode you would wanna see written with the criminal minds characters, feel free to send me a request! Enjoy!

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“Do you guys realize that this is the last time we’re all going to be here in O’Keefes as all single people?” JJ sighed, fiddling with her thumbs. You smiled at this, leaning on the arm of the couch, JJ sitting to your right. Emily sat on the couch also, squeezed in next to Garcia. Reid nursed a cup of coffee on the love seat to the left, while Hotch, Rossi and Morgan sat around the small table listening intently to their friend. 

“Why, what’s happening to O’Keefes?” Garcia questioned, not understanding what JJ was trying to say. 

Everyone just stared at her, used to this kind of behavior, and waited for the lightbulb. 

“Ohhh! Right!”

“I cant believe in just two days I’ll be Mrs. LaMontagne. God, it’s just- we’ve been waiting for so long and now the day is finally here,” JJ smiled to herself, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“I’m so excited for you, Jaje,” you smiled, resting your hand on her knee and giving it a light squeeze. She placed her hand over yours, “I just can’t help but be nervous, you know?” 

“Of course, that’s normal! But actually, it’s been statistically proven that men are more nervous about marriage than woman. About 60% of men get cold feet-“ 

The sentence was cut short with a yelp as you kicked Spencer in the shin, urging him to stop. 

Morgan cleared his throat as JJ laughed nervously. “But that’s not gonna happen... right?” 

“Hey, don’t look at me...” Rossi chuckled. 

“N-no of course not!” You stammered, trying to calm the bride to be’s nerves. “Spence, what are the statistics of couples that actually end up happy together?” 

“Well actually about 50% to 60% of marriages end in divorce, but that doesn’t count factors such as death-“ he started.

“Well would you look at the time, we gotta go!” Garcia said, putting an end to this conversation before it could get any worse. 

“Where are you guys going?” Hotch asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

“We’re going to pick up the wedding dress and then go have lunch with my Mom,” JJ exclaimed as the girls all stood up to gather their belongings. Morgan got up with them, leaving Spencer, Rossi and Hotch to exchange questioning looks. 

“Derek, you’re having lunch with JJ’s mom?” Rossi asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“No... I just heard lunch...”

-

After lunch, the girls sat around the apartment as JJ went over her list of things that still needed to be done in order for her big day. 

“So what else do you have on that list?” Emily asked as she delicately applied a second coat of polish to her right hand. 

“Oh, this is a different list. This is my list of all the things that could go wrong at the wedding,” she said as she wrote a couple more notes on the paper before her. 

As she was met with silence she continued on, “You know, that way I could be prepared.”

“...Well, what do you have so far?” Garcia chimed in.

“So far I have, my bridesmaids dresses won’t get picked up, my veil gets lost or I don’t have my something blue-“

“Hey! Those are all the things I’m responsible for!” You interrupted, putting your coffee mug down. 

“I had to do with the odds, Y/N/N!” 

Before you could interject again, Will waltzed through the door. You all greeted him with a smile as he stood behind JJ’s chair, placing a  kiss on the top of her head. 

“What are you guys up to?” He asked, his hands finding their way to JJ’s shoulders. 

“Just finishing my list of all the things that could go wrong at the wedding. You can never be too sure,” she shrugged, making a couple of more notes. 

Will shook his head laughing, “Oh, relax! Everything will be perfectly fine.” 

“Yeah!” You chimed in. “Stop looking for things to go wrong, you don’t want to jinx it!” 

“Exactly!” He agreed, walking over to the fridge to grab a beer. “So, who’s excited for 7:00 tonight?” 

You all just stared at him as Garcia walked behind JJ, tearing the page off the notepad. “You might want to start a, ‘What Could Go Wrong at the Rehearsal Dinner’ list. One: Will forgets the time.” 

“Will! I told you a thousand times it’s 6:30!” JJ huffed immediately scribbling down on her new paper. You grab the notepad and clutch it to your chest. “Will you stop it? He’s just messing with you! He knows it’s at 6:30!” You turn around at his wide eyed figure. “Right?” 

“Uh- yeah! I knew it was 7:00 I was just kidding-“

“6:30!” You all yelled in unison. 

“That’s what I meant!”

“You’re killing me here, Will!” You whispered before turning back around to your best friend. “Jaje, everything will be perfectly fine! Everything is going to go as planned!” 

“She’s right! You need to stop worrying!” Emily laughed, blowing on her nails. 

JJ nodded, “Yeah, you guys are right...” She stood up walking to her fiancé, “Can you believe that tomorrow we’re gonna be married?!” He smiled at her before giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Yes, and I’m so excited for you to finally be Mrs. LaMontagne.” 

You all smiled at the interaction, none of you could be happier for the pair in front of you. 

“I just cant believe we made it!” She swooned, grabbing his hands in hers. 

“Well, you don’t have to sound so surprised!” Will scoffed. 

“It’s just- never mind.” She started, walking to put some dishes in the sink. 

“What?” Will laughed, following her as she walked. 

“Well... honestly,” she started, “... ever since we’ve gotten engaged I’ve been waiting for something to... you know, flip you out.”

You all giggled, silently agreeing. It was no question that Will loved JJ, but he had a tendency to overthink. 

“Honestly, me too... I keep waiting for something stupid to come up that’ll make me freak out and go all... Will. But nothing has.”

She turned around and smiled at him, caressing his face. “I’m so glad. Thank you so much for staying so calm during all of this.” She placed another kiss to his lips before slipping into the bathroom. 

You all sat in comfortable silence for a moment before the phone started ringing. Before anyone could volunteer to answer it, it had stopped, automatically going to voicemail. 

“Hi! If you’re calling before Saturday, you’ve reached JJ and Will! But if you’re calling after Saturday, you’ve reached Mr and Mrs. LaMontagne! Please leave a message for the LaMontagnes!” 

The girls all giggled, having been there when JJ recorded it, assuming Will had heard it already. You all continued what you were doing and missed the look of panic that was only being discussed not too long ago. Will started to sweat profusely and loosen his tie a bit, feeling he was being choked to death. 

The LaMontagnes.

-

The rehearsal dinner had gone smoothly for the most part, nobody realizing the panic that had been struck into Will just hours before. 

Before they knew it, the night had ended and their big day had begun. The girls had been sitting around like they were the previous day, eating breakfast and chatting, excited for what was ahead. JJ was prancing around the apartment, nervously fluffing pillows and moving magazines in a straight line, she had so much adrenaline and didn’t know what to do with it. 

Little did she know that across the hall, Spencer and Derek were tearing the apartment apart looking for the groom to be. Will had been staying with them the night before, being that JJ wanted the wedding day to be as traditional as possible, which meant they were not to see each other until she was walking down the aisle. 

“Will! Come on, buddy. Time to wake up!” Morgan huffed, knocking on the door. 

After no answer, Spencer called, “Will...”

No answer again. The men exchanged questioning looks as came to agreement their next move was to just walk in. Opening the door, they were met with a neatly tucked bed. They looked at each other confused. Derek walked in going to see if there was an trace of where he went as Spencer walked towards the kitchen. 

He stopped in his tracks as his eyes met with a piece of yellow paper sitting on the counter. “Morgan...” He started, walking over to read what it said. 

“What is it, Pretty Boy?” Derek asked his, standing next to Reid. 

“Oh no.”

The boys ran across the hall, knocking feverishly on the door in front of them. They were met with your smile, “What’s up, you guys?”

Your smile quickly faded as you saw their worried faces. 

“Is JJ in here?” Morgan asked in a hushed tone. 

“She’s steaming her dress, why?” Garcia answered coming behind you. 

The boys walked in the door a little further. Spencer looked up at you, pulling the paper out of his pocket. “I think Will’s gone...”

You reluctantly took the paper out of Spencer’s hands, Garcia looking down to read it with you. 

“Tell JJ I’m sorry.”

You met Spencer’s eyes with disbelief of what was in front of you. The group had soon enough caught Emily’s attention and she walked over. 

“What’s up?” She asked as you placed the note in her hands. 

“Tell JJ I’m sorry,” she read aloud. She looked up at Morgan, shoving the note in his hands, “Tell her yourself!” 

You pinched the bridge of your nose as she attempted to walk away, grabbing her by the forearm and pushing everybody outside the door. 

“Oh my God! Will just left her?” You cried, running your hands through your hair. 

“Okay, yeah! But maybe it’s not what we think! Maybe it’s, ‘Tell JJ I’m sorry... I drank the last of the milk!” Morgan said, desperately trying to convince himself also. 

“Oh!” Garcia nodded excitedly, “Or maybe h- he was writing to tell her that he’s changed his name, you know! Uh- Tell JJ I’m ‘Sorry.’”

You and Spencer looked at each other in annoyance before Spencer whisper shouted, “I think it means he freaked out and left!” 

“Don’t he so negative! God, isn’t it possible ‘Sorry’ is sitting in there right now!” Garcia whisper shouted back at Reid. 

Spencer put his head in his hands and before it could escalate any further you put your hand on Garcia’s shoulder and said, “Okay, I-I think Spencer is right. What are we gonna do?” 

Spencer sighed, “Well, me and Derek are gonna have to go find him and bring him back.” You all nodded in agreement. 

“You guys make sure JJ doesn’t find out, okay?” Morgan added, clearly stressed. 

You all started to go your separate ways as you noticed Garcia following you and Emily back into the apartment. 

“Oh! No you don’t!” Emily started, blocking the door with her arm. 

“W-what-“ Garcia stammered confused. 

You called back to the boys who were walking out of their apartment again, jackets  and phones in hand, “She’s coming with you guys.”

“Good call,” Spencer laughed.

“What are you talking about?!” Garcia huffed looking back and forth between the group. 

“Pen, we need JJ to not find out! You’d blow our cover in seconds!” You said nudging her towards the guys. 

“Oh, come on! That’s not fair-“

“Babygirl, you know you can’t keep secrets-“

“Oh, fine!” She rolled her eyes, walking away with them.

You and Emily walked back into the apartment as JJ excitedly ran out of her room with wet hair and a robe clinging to her body. “I’m getting married today!” The sentence ended with a yelp as she fell to the floor, you and Emily running to her aid but quickly coming to a halt as she picked herself up, not even phased. 

“Think I just cracked a rib...” she started, her smile still intact. “But I don’t care because today’s my wedding day! My day is finally here! I’m gonna start getting ready!” She ran back into the room clapping and squealing. 

“You know... she might not even notice he’s gone,” Emily shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. 

Tears prickled at your eyes and you put your head in your hands. “She cant start getting ready! This is too awful!” 

“Shh!”

“She’ll be in the gown, and then he won’t show up! And she’s gonna have to take off the gown! It’s gonna be so awful-“ You started, panic running through your veins. 

“Y/N, stop it! You cant do this out here!” Emily rolled her eyes, pulling you into the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s just so sad!” You cried, gripping the sink and shaking your head. 

“You have got to pull yourself together! JJ cant see you like this or else she’ll know something is wrong!” Emily urged rubbing your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. 

“I know, I’m sorry. God, there’s no tissue!” You groaned looking around the sink, “Can you grab me some toilet paper?” 

There was no toilet paper either, Emily looked down into the trash can. “Oh... I found some...” She hesitantly reached into the can, pulling out some crumpled toilet paper and handing it to you. 

“Thank you, Em,” you sniffled, wiping away your tears, “Can I have another one?”

Emily scratched the back of her head, cringing as she looked down at the trash can again. “Sure...”

She pulled the sleeve of her shirt up before reaching in again, pulling out some more. “Need some floss?” She suggested, shaking it in front of you with her hand. 

You ignored her as you continued with your tears, “I just cant imagine what is going to happen if Will doesn’t show up.”

Emily continued to look through the can. 

“I mean, she’s gonna be at the wedding waiting for him! And people are gonna be whispering, ‘Oh, that poor girl!’ You know! And then she’ll have to come back here and live all alone,” you shook your head, turning to face the previously steamed wedding dress hanging up on the shower rod. 

“Oh my God.”

“What?” you asked, eyes never leaving the beautiful dress that you hoped to see your best friend in later that day. 

“There was a pregnancy test in the garbage and it’s positive.”

Your eyes widened as you turned to face Emily and the little stick in her hands.

“JJ’s pregnant.”

Your hand instantly shot up to your mouth. 

Emily sighed, “So I guess she won’t be totally alone.”

“Oh my God,” you whispered. 

“Can you believe it? JJ’s gonna have a baby!” Emily said in disbelief, “Hey, can this count as her something new?”

You were at a loss for words, this was bad. 

“Do you think this is why Will took off?”

You shook your head, biting your nails, “No, she had to of just taken this test. I took out the trash last night.”

Emily looked back down at the little stick, “This is turning into the worst wedding day ever! The bride is pregnant, the groom is missing... and I’m still holding this!” She shuddered as she dropped it back into the trash.

“Em...” you started, meeting her eyes, “we cannot tell anyone about this.”

“Right... yeah. Okay,” she nodded standing up from her spot on the toilet seat, you following her movement to the door. 

“Wait do you know what kind’ve birth control she was using?”

“No, why?” you asked. 

“Just for the future, this is hardly a commercial for it!” You tried to laugh but nothing came out, you were screwed. 

-

“Anything?” You asked as you walked into Spencer and Morgan’s apartment. 

“Nothing! And we looked everywhere!” Garcia groaned from her spot on the couch. 

You all shook your head in disbelief, this was a nightmare. 

“I am going to kick his ass when I see him! I’m starting to think we don’t really even know this guy! I mean think about it, does anybody else ever really understand him when he’s speaking?” Morgan huffed, looking around for an answer. 

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up, Derek! He’s just freaking out! We should’ve known this was gonna happen sooner or later!” 

Reid sighed in a agreement as he met your eyes, “This is bad, you guys. I don’t know where else we should look.” 

You ran your hands through your hair, “We’re gonna have to just tell her that he’s gone!” you said as you turned around to walk towards the door. 

Spencer jumped up from his seat, “Y/N, no! We can’t!”

“Spence, she’s gonna start getting ready soon!”

“Cant you at least stall her a little?” He pleaded, walking over towards you. “We can go back to some of the places we went last night!”

You looked up at him, he was grabbing your forearm lightly. You could never say no to those eyes. 

“Alright,” you sighed, “...how much time do you need?”

“How much time until she absolutely has to start getting ready?” Derek interrupted. 

“One hour.”

“Okay, give us two,” he replied, gathering his things from the counter. 

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “Then why do you even ask?!”

You all started to walk towards the door. Emily decided to join them, being that they needed all the help they could get. Hotch and Rossi were now in on the plan too and they agreed they should all split up in groups. 

“Y/N! There you are!” JJ giggled as she excitedly walked towards you as you entered the apartment. With her cosmetic bag in hand, she sat down at the kitchen table, already spilling out the contents, “So I thought we’d start with my makeup and then do my hair!”

“Okay... uh...” you stammered, “before we do that... I-I need you to talk to me...”

“About what?”

“Um...” you were already cringing at the words about to come out of your mouth. 

“I’m never going to get married!” You cried, placing a hand over your face. 

JJ rolled her eyes and looked up at you, “Yeah, you will! The right guy is just around the corner... Okay, are we done with that?” she said quickly and continued to look through her makeup bag. 

“JJ, I’m serious! Maybe I should just forget about it! I’ll become a lesbian or something...” you rambled on, faking more tears and sitting down next to her, trying to get her attention again. 

However, it didn’t work. JJ didn’t even look up at you when she scoffed, “Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

You mentally face palmed. This was getting pathetic, and you couldn’t believe what you were about to say next. 

“Maybe it would make me feel better if I just slept with Derek.”

JJ immediately stopped what she was doing and put a hand on your shoulder with wide eyes and a concerned face. “Oh my God, Y/N, are you okay?”

You shook your head quickly and stuffed your face in her shoulder, letting out fake cries. 

-

“What are you doing, man?” Derek huffed as he stood besides Hotch and Penelope in front of Will’s desk at the station. 

“I cant believe you guys found me! I knew I should have hid somewhere more secretive!”

Penelope rolled her eyes, “Will! What the hell are you doing?

Will shakily ran a hand through his hair, “Panicking...” he pointed to laptop opened in front of him, “Also trying to prove on the internet that I’m related to JJ.”

The trio was unamused. 

Will got the hint quickly and asked, “How is she?”

“She’s fine. She doesn’t know you’re gone,” Hotch spoke up, getting closer to the desk, “and she doesn’t have to know, okay?”

Derek nodded in agreement, “Yeah, come on. We’re going back home-“

“I-I can’t! If I go back, we’re gonna become the LaMontagnes!” Will cut him off, shaking his head, “I can’t be the LaMontagnes!”

“What’s wrong with being the LaMontagnes?” Garcia questioned, clearly not following. 

“The LaMontagnes have horrible marriages! All they do is yell and fight, and it never ends up well!”

Hotch, Penelope and Derek looked back at Will, finally understanding. He didn’t talk about it much, but Will and his parents were not close, he was too scarred from what they had put him through growing up to ever reconstruct their relationship. 

“Man...” Derek began in an effort to calm him down, “You are nothing like either of your parents! You and JJ would never put each other through anything like that!”

Will thought about it for a second before saying, “I mean, look at Rossi! It’s just been divorce after divorce-“

“Will! Listen to me!” Penelope interrupted walking over to the side of the desk, “Right now, no one has a lower opinion of you than I do... but I totally believe you can do this!”

Will looked at his hands before saying, “I want to. I love her so much. But I’m afraid... this is... too huge.”

“You’re right, it is huge,” Hotch chimed in. He remembered when he was the one getting married and started to sympathize with the nerves of the man in front of him. “Just take it one step at a time. Forget getting married right now, can you just come home and take a shower?”

Morgan nodded in agreement, “Yeah, that’s not scary, right?”

Will slowly started to stand up in agreement and the trio in front of him couldn’t help but smile. 

-

“The nights are the hardest...” you cried, looking down at your hands. JJ rolled her eyes. “But then the day comes... and that’s every bit as hard as the night. Then the night comes again-“

“I get it, okay? The days and nights are both hard!” JJ snapped in frustration. “Look, Y/N, I’m sorry but I have to start getting ready. I am getting married today,” she emphasized. 

“I know... at dusk. That’s such a hard time for me.”

JJ stood up, not being able to take anymore of your pity party. “Okay. I’m gonna go put my makeup on. We have to be at the hotel in an hour.”

As she started to walk towards the bathroom you jumped up, “W-wait! Let’s go to lunch!”

“I can’t go to lunch!” She shrieked, running into the bathroom. 

You were starting to run out of ideas. Throwing yourself to the floor you yelled, “Oh  good God, I’ve fallen down!”

JJ stormed out of the bathroom, crossing her arms and looked at you sprawled out on the floor. “What the hell is going on?”

“Alright, JJ, listen...” you said standing up, feeling the tears ready to spill. “When I tell you what I’m about to tell you I need you to remember we’re all here for you and we all love you.”

JJ’s gaze softened, “Y/N/N, you’re really starting to freak me out...”

You looked down at your shaking hands as you whispered, “We can’t find Will...”

And just like that the door opened to reveal a smiling Emily Prentiss holding two big thumbs up. 

“...s vest. We cant find Will’s vest-“

“How can that be are you serious?!” JJ cried.

Emily caught on and shut the door walking towards you two, “Found the vest! Well I mean we have to keep an eye on it. You know, to make sure we don’t lose it again!”

JJ instantly relaxed and started laughing, “Oh, thank God! Don’t scare me like that, okay?” 

You both started nervously laughing as she started to walk towards the bathroom to finally do her makeup. 

“For a minute there I was like, ‘Oh my God, the worst has happened!’ Phew!”

You and Emily both looked at each other with a sigh of relief. 

-

Derek stood behind Will in the mirror, smoothing down his tux. “See, that wasn’t so scary was it? You put on a tuxedo!”

Will laughed nervously, looking at his reflection, “No... I guess not.”

Spencer smiled, “See, just a little bit at a time.”

“So what‘s the next little bit?”

Derek and Spencer looked nervously at each other, knowing they had to choose their next words very carefully. 

“Just uh,” Derek stammered, “Getting married-“

Will let out a girl-like shriek, putting his head in his hands. 

“W-woah, relax! You can do it! Just like you’ve done everything else!”

He lifted his head, nodding at Spencer’s words. “You’re right... I can do it. Just excuse me for a minute,” he sighed walking towards the door. 

The men shared a skeptical look before Will added, “I’m not gonna run away again! I just need some fresh air.”

The boys reluctantly let Will out of the door and he paced the halls, trying to let all the nerves out. Hearing familiar voices around the corner, Will walked into one of the empty rooms on his left, trying not to be seen. The last thing he needed was to run into JJ in her dress before they were married and ruin this day even more than he almost already did. He soon recognized the voices as Y/N and Emily. 

“I just cant believe JJ is pregnant! We gotta make sure we don’t say that too loud in here, you know they frown on that,” Emily said, referring to the church.  

Pregnant?! How could it be? They used protection every single time?

All Will could hear was your humorless chuckles and wordless responses to what Emily was saying. 

When your voices were gone, he popped his panicked head out of the door and started pacing the other way. 

-

“Hey...” Derek nervously laughed as he entered the bridal suite. He was met with the eyes of JJ’s family members and gave them all a quick wave. “Have any of you seen Will?”

Penelope was fixing her hair in the mirror and quickly turned around, “I thought he was with you!”

Suddenly everyone’s attention was on Derek. “Well... he was,” he awkwardly looked around. “We’re playing a game of hide and seek.”

Penelope’s shoulders relaxed, “Well you can’t ask us, Chocolate Thunder! That’s cheating!” She turned back around scoffing, to continue pulling at little pieces of hair to frame her face. The rest of the room was clearly uncomfortable.

Derek gritted his teeth, “You’re right. Thanks for keeping me honest, Babygirl...” he smiled at the rest of JJ’s family, trying to make sure they didn’t suspect anything. 

Walking towards Penelope to tell her Will was actually missing, he immediately came to a halt as JJ and Emily walked in the room. 

“JJ, you look beautiful,” he smiled, giving her a hug. 

She hugged him tightly and thanked him before asking, “How’s Will?”

Derek paused. 

“Great. He’s doing great. Don’t you worry about Will!” he nervously chuckled before turning his attention back to the other side of the room. “Penelope, Emily, will you help me with something outside?” 

The girls nodded and followed him out, Penelope closing the door behind them. 

“Will is gone again!”

“Oh my God!” Penelope cried, “Why would you play hide and seek with someone you know is a flight risk!”

Derek rolled his eyes before turning his head and seeing the man of the hour walking with a small gift bag. 

“Hey- There he is!” 

“What-“ 

Without thinking Derek sprinted towards the man, tackling him on the floor. “You’re not getting away this time-“

“What are you talking about- I’m not trying to leave! I-I know about JJ.” He groaned, pushing Morgan off of him and standing up. 

“You know?” Emily asked in disbelief. 

“Know what?” Garcia chimed in, matching Derek’s expression of confusion. 

“I heard you and Y/N talking...” Will answered. 

“Talking about what?” questioned Derek, looking around confusingly. 

“Oh my God... You know.” Emily whispered.

“Can someone tell us what the hell is going on right now-“ Penelope exclaimed. 

“JJ’s pregnant.”

The pair looked at each other in shock, and broke out in smiles as Will pulled out a tiny onesie. 

“Anything this tiny can’t be so scary.”

-

The ceremony had begun and all the guests had taken their seats. Rossi took his rightful spot in the center, being that he would be the one to officiate the wedding. Will was accompanied by his parents down the aisle and one after the other, the bridesmaids and the groomsman met in the middle and followed. It went Emily and Hotch, Derek and Penelope and then it was time for you to meet Spencer. It was the first time you had seen each other dressed up. The day had been so hectic you hadn’t had the chance to run into one another. He looked handsome in his suit, his hair so perfectly messy, and it took everything in you to not sprint over to him and run your hands through it. 

Spencer was speechless, He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you walking towards him to meet in the aisle. You looked gorgeous in your light blue bridesmaid dress that hugged you perfectly. Your hair was pulled back on the sides, a few pieces hanging and your makeup was elegantly placed, highlighting all the features he loved. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you met up and linked arms. The blush spread through your cheeks like a wildfire and you prayed the camera couldn’t pick it up. 

“Thank you,” you whispered back. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

As it came time to part from him, you slowly unlinked your arms and walked to your respective sides, but not before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He smiled at that. 

JJ had walked out and tears were brought to not only Will’s eyes, but everyone else’s. She looked gorgeous and you couldn’t help but feel ecstatic for her as you knew she had been waiting for this moment her whole life. 

Rossi had soon announced them husband and wife and everyone had cheered as they kissed one another. It was truly a moment of bliss. 

“I love you,” Will whispered while cupping JJ’s cheek, “and I know about the baby too.”

“What baby?” JJ laughed. 

“Our baby.”

“We have a baby?”

“Emily found your pregnancy test in the bathroom-“

JJ looked at him confused, “I didn’t take a pregnancy test...”

“Then who did?”

You, Emily and Penelope stared at the two in awe. 

“Just look at them, they’re so happy.” Emily gushed. 

“And they’re gonna have a baby!” Penelope smiled. 

You nodded nervously, the wave of nausea hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

“Wait- Penelope knows now too?!”

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Fancy Paper Napkins

because doesn’t everybody eat their fancy meals with fancy paper napkins ...

Our Moments: Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max) Chapter 5: Shadowed Grey Eyes Chapter 6: The Warmest Thing I Own Chapter 7: Fancy Paper Napkins @today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He actually slept, his mind calm, until he heard her whispering in his ear, “what are you cooking and when will it be ready?”

Opening his eyes, he saw hers staring at him, awake and bright, “what?”

“I’m hungry and I saw the crockpot plugged in.”

He broke into a grin, more from her proximity than anything else and forcing himself not to look at her mouth, not to think of that kiss, “mushrooms. Garlicy, buttery mushrooms that have been slow cooking in the crockpot,” looking over her head at the clock, “for four hours.” Sitting up quickly, “shit. I have to go stir them.”

Rolling off the bed, he disappeared down the hall, Scully close behind, “they won’t burn.”

“I’ll feel better when I see for myself.” Finally in the kitchen, he opened the crockpot, stirred with the big spoon, and glad to see the mushrooms soft and unburned, offered Scully a taste. Refusing with an, ‘I’d like to wait for dinner,’ he nodded towards the fridge, “go grab the steak, would you?”

They ate like civilized people, at the kitchen table, forks, knives, fancy paper napkins …

… “I refuse to use cloth ones because they’re too damn hard to clean.”

… “Did I say anything?”

… “No.”

… “Then why are you arguing at me?”

and a bottle of not-so-cheap wine Mulder found in his travels through Scully’s cupboards.

“I shouldn’t drink this.”

“Will it lower your inhibitions? Will you sweep off the coffee table and dance on it if I wave a bunch of ones at you? Will you tell me all your secrets?”

She couldn’t keep her hand from shaking as she poured them both glasses, “mostly I’m thinking that it’ll make me fall asleep even early that I probably would have already.”

Ignoring the tremor, “as long as you stay awake enough for ice cream.”

“I will do my best.”

She made it through half the steak, a bowl of mushroom, and three spoons of mashed potatoes, before finally giving in, trading her plate for Mulder’s empty, who continued to eat without pause. Watching him, she had to smile, “thank you.”

“For finishing your food? No problem.”

Not able to articulate at that particular moment that she was actually thanking him for a thousand things at once, she simply agreed, wondering if he’d figure it out on his own, “yeah, I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Giving her a grin, he finished her food, then stood, “give me ten minutes to do dishes and put everything away, then we’ll argue about movies.”

“Let me load the dishwasher, at least. You won’t do it right and I’ll just have to redo it when you’re not looking.” Standing as well, she bumped hips with him as she walked past, “save me the trouble.”

Twisting up his leg, he hit her on the butt with his stocking foot, “smartass.”

They finally settled on several movies but still sitting on the couch, facing a blank TV and a window with a sunset just beginning to tint the room pink, Mulder gently poked her in the side, “how’re you doing?”

Feeling the urge to move, to take advantage of feeling okay for the moment, “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”

Up immediately, he leaned in, kissing the tip of her nose, “any destination in mind?”

“Just … around.”

“Around it is.”

&&&&&&&&&

Warm enough to wander without jackets, they headed out her front door and turned left, bare arm brushing bare arm as they walked. They didn’t say much, commenting on scurrying squirrels here, a cute cat in the window there, Mulder catching a waywardly stumbling child tripping past, “geez, if I had known we were going to be experiencing a Norman Rockwell painting, I would have combed my hair and put on a clean shirt.”

Her laughter hit his ears like his favorite song and reaching over, he took her hand, never asking, never letting go as they circled and turned, ambled and veered. She didn’t argue, her thin, cool fingers enjoying his warmth.

But even on her best days lately, she gave in quicker than she’d have liked, 45 being the magic number of minutes she lasted until, “I think I’m ready for some ice cream.”

Giving her hand a squeeze, “ice cream it is. What kind should we start with?”

Discussion ensued and by the time they were in their pajamas, they’d settled on dark fudge and peanut butter swirl to begin with. Two spoons dove in, two spoons sampled, occasionally Scully would pull her loaded spoon out and looking at Mulder, found his mouth wide open, waiting expectantly.

And by God, she fed him.

The first time felt a little weird but by the third time he did it, she was laughing, “can you not feed yourself fast enough?”

“Nope.”

That was good enough for her.

Once the gorging finished, they’d had at least one spoonful out of each carton Mulder had bought, six in all, the flavors running the gambit and Scully full and happy and sleepy. “Are you going to be able to sleep with all that sugar in your system?”

Mulder grinned, chocolate rimming his lips, “if not, I’ll have a TV to keep me company while you drool all over your pillow.” A relieved sigh, one she didn’t know she was holding, escaped, and Mulder cocked his head, suddenly worried, “y’a’right?”?”

And deciding there was no reason not to tell him, “I think I was nervous you were going to go home tonight and,” another sigh, this one embarrassed, “it’s been a really nice day and if you went home, it would be over and,” slight wobbly smile appearing, “I don’t want it to be over just yet.”

Knowing something funny was in order, he raised an eyebrow in her direction, “is that some veiled attempt at asking me to move in here?”

Her smile steadied, “just go start the movie.”

&&&&&&&&&

Midnight rolled around and even though Scully had given in and gone to bed, Mulder was still awake and indeed watching TV, some cooking show he’d never admit to enjoying but enjoyed nonetheless. The sound was off and suddenly, the quiet of the darkened apartment was broken by Scully calling from the bedroom, “Mulder?”

It didn’t sound like a nightmare which, in his mind, could only mean she needed help. Jogging down the hall, he was in her doorway a second later, “yeah? You okay?”

Still laying down, she met his nervous gaze, her own a unique brand of terrified confusion, “am I still here?”

Immediately walking to the other side of the bed, he crawled under the covers, his hand meeting her cheek after she rolled over to face him, “yeah. You’re right here, in your bed.” When her terror didn’t fade, he continued, quieter, moving to meet her forehead with his, “you’re with me, in your apartment,” hand moving to the back of her neck, “whatever you dreamt wasn’t real.”

“It will be.” Feeling the bed shake as she hitched a silent sob, she managed a cracked whisper, “I don’t want to die.” Her fingers ran over his cheek, his ear, “I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

The tear escaped before he could blink it away but he kept the others in, reservoir full but holding, “we’re gonna beat this. I guarantee it.”

She couldn’t bring herself to believe him anymore and she couldn’t keep up the lie at this hour, “you don’t know that.”

“But I choose to believe it.” Hand in her hair by now, he pulled her close enough that their noses were smushed together and eyelashes tangled, “I need to believe it.”

Maybe she could pretend a little more after all, “do you believe enough for both of us?”

“I believe enough for this whole damn world. You should know that by now.”

She could only nod against him, bringing their mouths to millimeter distances but refraining, crippling fear not a good enough reason to cross the line between them, “can you stay right here with me, tonight?”

He crossed it for them, a quick brush of lips, a quick nuzzle of noses, “I won’t move until you do.”

“I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

Both knew the translation of that:

I don’t want to die alone.

&&&&&&&&

The next morning, Scully opened her eyes to find Mulder still sharing her pillow, not touching anymore but close enough to have him blurry in front of her instead of clear. For five seconds, she forgot her world and felt warm fuzzies chasing through her, up and down her spine, settling low.

Then, reality set in with a resounding thud.

Pulling back, she sat up, turning quickly so he wouldn’t see the tears racing down her face. Neither could ignore the echoing sob, however and Mulder, already half-awake, sat up, confusion clearing in a heartbeat as he slid across the mattress, arm around her front, hugging her back to his chest. Kissing her neck and that hated, fucking scar, “we’re gonna win. I swear to God, we’re gonna win.”

And they cried together.

[hotpinkrathian]

The Dinner

(Kyalin) Cannon to The Box series.

Tenzin took a seat, sitting Rohan on his lap, bouncing his soon to be toddler.

"Oh, Bataar isn't he the cutest thing?" Suyin said fawning over the little.

"He's adorable." Bataar replied. "Any signs of bending yet?" Bataar asked.

"Well, I can't be totally sure, but I think we have another airbender on our hands!" Suyin cheered, drawing attention to herself.

"I would do anything for another one." She said, causing her husband's eyes to widen in fear.

"No. Please.""oh come on, one more honey." Bataar scoffed, moving to sit with his sons. Su frowned returning her gaze back to Rohan. She was caught off guard when her sister took a seat beside her.

"Lin! You made it!" She smiled, Lin nodded, setting down a place full of food Kya sat next to her and Suyin reached over to shake her hand.

"Its been too long, Kya."

"Much, there's so much to catch you up on, Su." The waterbender said, looking to Lin who ignored her. It wasn't long before Mako and Bolin stumbled into the room, heaving and leaning on each other.

"Hey! Take it outside!" Pema shouted, nearly spilling a tray of beverages.

"Sorry its just- Korra?" Mako asked.

"Shes outside with Asami, they'll be in as soon as Korra gets a whiff of this fish." Tonraq said, eyeing up the dish.

"Can't wait." They pushed past the crowd and Su rolled her eyes.

"Remind me so much of the twins." She remarked and Lin snorted.

"Worse." Her older sister said and Suyin laughed.

"Lin, I'm going to the kitchen to get a drink, want something?" Kya asked.

"Hmm? Something strong." Kya looked at her doubtfully and Suyin glanced toward Tenzin, who seemed to pick up on the energy.

"Come with me." Kya said, pulling her arm.

"Alright, fine. I'll be right back Su." Lin said being dragged away by Kya. Su looked to Tenzinsho put Rohan in his uncle's lap.

"Did you-" they said in unison.

"Sorry, you go." Tenzin said.

"That was weird, right?" Su asked, looking at her sister and Kya from the table. The two were leaned against the counter, Kya pouring a waterbenders portion of wine, engaged in conversation.

"They arrived together." Tenzin said and Su pursed her lips.

"Do you think Kya's living with her?" Su asked.

"Its possible. She's been staying in the city for a while now, I assumed she had her own place or an ex's to crash, maybe she's been staying with Lin." The two woman came back, returning to their seat.

"Sorry," Lin laughed as she sat down. Su looked to Tenzin again.

Is she laughing?

I think so?

"So, Kya, where have you been staying?" Su asked, flattening her robe. Kya took a long sip of her wine, finishing nearly a third of it before answering.

"With Lin. She's um... been letting me stay with her. Just to be closer to the hospital and all."

"Thats very kind of you Lin," Tenzin said, "I didn't know you were so fond of the homeless." Kya flung a spoonful of mashed potatoes off her spoon at her brother who blew it against the wall.

"Ha. Ha." Tenzin smiled, proud of himself.

"Beifong!" Su and Lin looked at the use of their last name, to see Korra, Asami, Mako and Bolin standing at the door. Lin rolled her eyes and Kya patted her on the shoulder, smiling.

"Yes?" Lin asked, standing up and spreading her arms.

"You... you lied to me!" Korra argued. Su looked between the two of them. It didn't seem hostile but.. playful wasn't in Lin's nature. At least she didn't think so.

"Actually I just didn't tell you the truth. Besides, you didn't ask me."

"You told them before us?"

"No, I gave you guys the key to our apartment, and I even gave you the box. You just didn't look in it." Korra's eyes met Asami's a look of realization dawning on them.

"Why... why did you-"

"Wanted to know what you thought. And maybe rub it in a bit." Korra furrowed her brows and Lin smirked. Su looked back to Tenzin when Kya wrapped an arm around Lin's.

Oh my god. She mouthed as the bald airbenders face lit up a bright red.

"Were you in on this?" Asami asked.

"Oh yeah, this whole operation was my idea." Kya replied. "I just thought it'd be funnier coming from Lin. And as always, I was right."

"You're not always right-" Lin began, she was shut down with a look from the waterbender.

"Does someone care to explain whats going on here?" Bumi asked, bouncing Rohan. "I'm getting the sense I don't have all the details."

"Beifong and Kya are getting married!" Korra said and the unanimous gasp in the room was followed by silence.

"Suprise." Lin said, a grin on her face.

"Kya, whats the meaning of this?" Tenzin asked.

"Tenzin, its pretty straightforward..." his sister replied. Su was too busy looking at Lin, and then to Kya, who now at a second glance did have a new betrothal necklace. One that had Lin's impeccable bending skills all over it.

"Lin are you... oh my god!" Su cheered, jumping up to hug her sister. "You're getting married?" Lin stood stiff in her sisters grip, patting Su on the back until she was released.

"Yeah, I mean I thought that was obvious." Su ignored her passive aggression, smiling at Kya who winked at her older brother across the room.

"Kya you... how?" Kya laughed, placing a hand on Su's shoulder.

"It just happened. These last what, fourteen, fifteen years, have been the-"

"FIFTEEN YEARS?" everyone shouted and Lin plugged her ears.

"Ow. Spirits you don't have to be so loud."

"You've been together for fifteen years?" Pema asked, finally setting down the beverage tray.

"Yeah. Honestly, I don't know how no one picked up on it." Kya said, "except Bumi."

"How'd Bumi know?" Kai asked.

"Thats... not for young ears to hear." Kya replied, causing the two of them to blush. Su sat down, her head rushing with thoughts. Her sister had been seeing someone for fifteen years and she had no idea. Some sister she was. She wasn't sure how she felt about the secrecy, but she shoved whatever feelings those were aside and focused on how happy she was for her sister.

___________________________________________

Kya flopped onto the sofa next to her fiance, the effects of the wine fading and leaving her feeling tired.

"That was a lot." She said to Lin, who was already half asleep next to her.

"Agreed, way to much."

"But it feels good, doesn't it?" Lin opened her eyes, looking at the beautiful girl beside her.

"It feels amazing, Kya." Kya kissed her her lips tasted like wine, she didn't mind totally, but she preffered the authentic Lin.

"Lin, I can't wait to marry you." She whispered.

"I can't wait either."

"We should do it. Tomorrow?" Lin looked to her.

"What?"

"Lets go to city hall, and get someone to do it."

"You don't want a big wedding? What about your mom?" Kya sighed, leaning back.

"Mom will understand. Besides, after today I realized that I just want it to be the two of us. Like its always been." Lin leaned over, kissing her.

"Okay, but we're not getting married in city hall. I have a plan."

"How could you possibly have a plan?" Lin shrugged, flexing a hand out in front of her.

"I wanted to make sure we had our bases covered." Kys chuckled, kissing her again."

"Thats why I love you, Lin Beifong." She said before nuzzling herself into Lin's shoulder, the two of them falling asleep on the sofa.

Thought it was done? Hehehehehe

"The spirit world?" Kya asked, staring into the beam.

"Yup. Korra recommended it once she got back. I figured we'd honeymoon, but this is better." Kya smiled, and the two stepped into the beam. On the other side was a green field, flowers stretched across for miles, and in the middle, a cottage. Spirits gathered around a table, sipping tea.

"They're here!" The spirits called and Kya looked to Lin, whos face revealed nothing. The door of the cottage swung open and an old man, carrying a tea pot and a saucer smiled at them.

"You're early!" He said over the spirit chatter.

"I'm punctual." Lin replied as the two walked up to him.

"Iroh?" Kya asked, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

"Its been a long time, Kya," he said, "the last time I saw you... you were this high." He put his hand next to his waist.

"Lin did you-"

"Korra mentioned he was here, during harmonic convergence. I had to see for myself."

"And she couldn't stop coming to see her uncle!" Iroh added, pouring two more cups.  Kya looked at her wife to be, who smiled in a way that made her look ethereal. Lin had a connection to this place, different then Jinora's or Tenzin's, but a connection. The one time Kya had been here, it had been whole fully unpleasant. She was starting to think her opinion of it was going to change.

"Well, are we going to stand here all day or is there going to be a wedding?" Iroh asked.

It didn't take them long to get ready, the spirits put a veil of light around them, decorating Kya's hair with flowers and giving Lin a panda lily to give once their vows were done.

"Su's going to loose her mind." Kya said aftwrward, when they sat on the grass.

"She got married without me." Lin argued.

"Fair enough." Kya laid in the grass and Lin joined her.

"I could stay here forever," the waterbender said.

"Me too," Lin replied, holding Kya's hand in hers.  "Me too."

Thanks for all the love on this miniseries everyone!!! I really enjoyed it! Anyway, this is the finale, however I will have a bonus short in an upcoming chapter on Watty with strictly Bumi's reaction. As always, thanks for reading!

[candycityy]

Some (established relationship) Rivetra birthday crack/fluff, ft. awkward!Levi, because I can.

Levi sucks at giving gifts.

Maybe it's just the fact that he's awkward as fuck, but the notion of having to find something nice for another person fills him with equal parts dread and exhaustion. Honestly, how would he know what they'd want, anyway? He'd much rather just shove a couple of coins in their direction and call it a day.

The whole concept of gifts had been a culture shock to him, after leaving the Underground—not that he didn't understand what it meant to get someone something, but just the whole song and dance about it, of how every even remotely special occasion called for a gift of some sort. The first time he'd heard of it, a squadmate was asking him to contribute something to Erwin's promotion hamper, and he'd almost snorted, assuming it was a joke; the fucker had just been promoted to Commander of the Survey Corps, honestly, wasn't that gift enough?

Fortunately, his squad knows better than to ask him to contribute things; they just ask for money whenever they're doing a group gift, which he's happy enough to part with. And with matters outside the squad, well...he still doesn't really get why people thing he's so fucking terrifying, but in this, at least, he's happy to be excluded.

Well, until now. Unlike him, Petra actually does enjoy gifts; she's one of those crazy people who likes giving them, who handwrites cards and wraps presents in nice paper and glittery ribbons (another thing he doesn't get. He's supposed to spend time and money on wrapping paper that's just going to get torn into shreds?) and somehow, considering how they're dating and all, he doubts she'd be content with his usual fare of a few coins and a curt happy birthday over breakfast.

He briefly considers staging a training accident; surely, she wouldn't expect a gift from him if he were in the med bay recovering from a debilitating but non-life-threatening injury?

"Aha," Hanji says, briefly pausing in her monologue about Titan reproduction (he hadn't been listening in the slightest, but that's never been a deterrent) to point her spoon dangerously close to his face. "I recognise that look. You're thinking again, aren't you."

"None of your business." He pokes morosely at his dinner, and misses. The tines of his fork strike the porcelain with a rather unpleasant metallic screech that makes them both wince.

"It's not a good look on you, you know," she comments, shovelling a fragment of potato into her mouth as Levi watches with barely veiled disgust. "Thinking. You're much better off playing the role of the macho action hero, all brawn and no brain—"

"I will stab you with this butter knife," he threatens, with a kind of despondent savagery. The woman just leans on her elbow and waits, perfectly unruffled.

He chews, swallows, and after a long pause, finally admits, "Petra's birthday is coming up."

"And you're thinking about what to get her?" Hanji smirks. "Sweet."

"I'm thinking about why surface-dwellers have so much time and energy to bother with stupid things like gifts," he grumbles, spearing a chunk of broccoli with more aggression than strictly necessary.

"Well, they're a welcome distraction from the terrors of daily life, don't you think?" She pushes her goggles up her nose with a kind of practiced impatience, and continues, "I think...Petra probably would want something heartfelt. You know, something you wouldn't give to anyone else."

"I wouldn't give anyone anything, from the start."

"You know what I mean." Hanji rolls her eyes. "The gift's gotta make her feel special. Maybe something with a sort of significance, or meaning, or...oh! Something handmade? How good are you with handicrafts?" She eyes him, looking rather less hopeful than he'd like. It rankles him.

"I'm pretty good at carving," he snaps. Hanji brightens.

"Ooh. Wood?"

"Flesh." He shovels the rest of the stew into his mouth, ignoring her snort of indignation, and stands up. "Don't choke on your food, Four-Eyes."

==

In his time in the Underground, he'd learnt precisely two things about food: one, to defend it with your life, and two, if you chuck a bunch of ingredients into a pot and apply heat, you can call it a casserole, which is a fancy-sounding name for something that barely counts as a dish at all.

Furlan, being unable to cook for his life, had been put on permanent ingredient-gathering duty (read: theft) instead. Isabel, on the other hand, had an irritating tendency to get distracted, disappear off to fuck-knows-where with the food still on the stove, and promptly forget all about it. By the process of elimination, Levi had took over most of the cooking.

Being easy, flexible, and requiring very little attention, casserole had quickly become his signature dish. And yeah, he wouldn't call himself good by any means, but as far as he's concerned, no-one'd ever gotten food poisoning from a dish he'd made, which he counts a win.

Still, he figures that not poisoning anyone is a pretty low bar to set for a birthday dinner for his girlfriend.

For the eleventh time since entering the store, Levi wonders if he should just forget it. Get her some bauble or trinket, that glittery shit that girls always like. But against his will, Hanji's irritating voice drones in his head: something heartfelt. Something you wouldn't give to anyone else.

Levi scowls darkly at a shelf of cheese. "What the fuck's the difference between cheddar and mozzarella, anyway?" he mutters to himself, before giving up and shoving both into his basket.

He continues wandering through the store, grabbing whatever he thinks will go well together. He barely glances at the price tags as he goes, too distracted by his thoughts—does she like chickpeas? Or was it lentils? Are those different?

(Of course, he pays for his inattention dearly, when the cashier coolly informs him of his total and he almost chokes. Well, he really should've known; the storekeeper in the Underground always did seem to loathe them with an aggressive vengeance.)

==

Carrots—potatoes—beef. Levi measures out the ingredients carefully and scoops them into the pot, eyeing the stew bubbling cheerfully over on the stove, and allows himself a brief moment of smugness.

He's outdone himself, even if he says so himself. Everything's been planned, down to the last detail. In the morning, he'd presented Petra with a new fountain pen, a perfect decoy gift, especially since she'd mentioned earlier how she'd been needing one. He hadn't missed the flash of disappointment in her eyes—shitty Four-Eyes had been right for once, he supposes—but she'd schooled her expression into one of appropriate delight quickly enough, and exclaimed over it as necessary, and he'd known she'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

He's even timed this whole dinner thing perfectly, getting the guys to keep her back for a bit after training (which they'd agreed to, albeit with some snickering) so he could prep for the meal. She'd be in the showers now, he guesses; and now, with the brick oven all heated up and the dish nicely in place, he probably has about twenty, thirty minutes before the next step of the plan, when he'll go to retrieve her from her room under some pretense or another, lead her to the dining hall, and—

"Levi? What's going on?" Petra rubs her eyes, strolling into the room and and sniffing the air curiously. "Are you—are you cooking?"

What the fuck.

"Petra." He tries his best to block the stove, desperately searching for a way out. "You're back early. This is, uh...an experiment. For Hanji. It could blow up any second, so off you go now."

Petra does not oblige. Her eyes narrow, and she tries to peek around him. "Your experiment is stew?"

"It's not stew, it's...Titan bait," he improvises wildly, making her brows lift in disbelief. "Seriously, Petra. Go away." His eyes dart to the wall clock; he needs about fifteen more minutes, at least. "Didn't Eld...didn't the guys ask you to stay for a bit?"

She shrugs, still craning her neck to try to see the contents of the kitchen counter. There's a hint of a grin on her face now. "Auruo was bragging again about something-or-the-other, and bit his tongue, and I slipped away in the commotion. Levi, is that cake?"

"I told you, it's Titan bait. Now get out, that's an order." He tries to keep his tone cold and steely, a feat which is proving much more challenging than usual with his very pretty, very annoying girlfriend standing on tiptoe, trying her best to peek over his shoulder.

Judging by her expression of keen amusement, he fails quite spectacularly.

"Levi," his irrepressible subordinate goes, her eyes gleaming, "your cake—sorry, Titan bait—says 'Happy Birthday, Petra'."

With a frustrated exhale, he gives up trying to block her, and slumps back to the kitchen counter. Petra waits, tapping her foot, still looking thoroughly amused. Her hair is still damp from the showers, he notices. But despite the fact that she has a towel around her neck and is dressed in a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants—her standard evening attire—his breath catches in his throat. She's beautiful.

"Okay, fine," he grumbles, tearing his gaze away. "I'm cooking. It's for you. Happy birthday. You're still a brat."

She laughs, and the sound makes his lips pull into a reluctant smile, too. "I never took you for the domestic type, captain," she teases, leaning into him and winding her arms around his back. "Stew? But didn't you already give me a gift, though?"

"Casserole," he corrects. "It sounds fancier. And that was a decoy—this was supposed to be a surprise. I mean, I thought...since it's the first time you're having a birthday, well. With us, like. Together." He clears his throat, and silently wills himself not to do anything stupid and embarrassing, like—Walls forbid—blush. "Remind me to have a talk with Auruo, will you."

"Well, count me surprised," she says, leaning in and grinning up at him.

He rolls his eyes.

"Anyway. Since you're here so early," he goes, gazing at her with a look of utmost seriousness, "here. You can help to chop the onions."

Petra blinks, indignant. "Seriously?"

"Nah, I'm kidding. That's for ruining my surprise, you brat."

==

"...Levi?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Happy birthday, Petra."

[secondhand-trash]

Love at First Bite

A/N: we love a man who can cook where can I find myself an osamu (and yes this is an excuse for me to write about food)

Pairing: Miya Osamu x reader

Description: Your story with Miya Osamu began with tears, rain, and really good food.

Word count: 5270

Playlist:

Making Breakfast//Twin Peaks

Sunday Kind of Love//Etta James

Baby I’m Yours//Arctic Monkeys

-

You met Miya Osamu on what felt like the worst day of your life.

“I don’t feel the same about you anymore.”

The words that your boy- no, ex-boyfriend said to you rang in your ear. You could not get it out of your head ever since he uttered those few words in front of you, leaving you dazed and alone on the street as he turned away without even looking back. 

He did not even look back, not even bothering to see the look on your face and hurt in your eyes as the reality sat in.

I don’t feel the same about you anymore.

What the fuck was that even supposed to mean? Your face heated up at the anger that was starting to boil up. It was humiliating how you just stood there and say nothing as he walked away, you could have at least say something smart, or demand an explanation. But instead, you stayed still like a block of wood.

Pathetic, maybe that was why he got tired of you.

It did not work. You tried so hard to shake off the echo in your head of last voice you ever wanted to hear at that moment but the more you tried, the louder it was in the void of your mind. You hated how easy it was for him to walk away and how hard it was on you, you hated how you could barely even think straight as you mindlessly walk along the straight road ahead, taking turns whenever there was one without even having a single thought.

There was a moment when you stared at his figure as he walked away and felt the urge to say something that would make him stay, and that was the worst part of it all.

How sad, how pathetic.

The streets were getting dark and one by one, the shops along the sides dimmed their lights. It was late and you should go home but just the thought of being along made your stomach twisted into knots. 

There would be no one waiting for you when you get back, which you should have gotten used to by now. But being by yourself was one thing, the thought of there being no one you could go to anymore was another.

You had not felt so lonely in a long while, and you weren’t sure how to deal with this foreign hollowness.

You did not want to be surrounded by nothing but four walls. You knew that the voices in your head would be clearer and louder when you were accompanied by nothing but silence. At least when you were out, wandering on the empty streets, you had the eyes of the people walking by to keep you from breaking down completely in fear of the looks you might get, a sad attempt at convincing yourself to stay strong.

But the reality was that the emotions that were boiling up at the depths of your chest were starting to bubble up, and you had never wanted to cry so badly.

You grimaced when you felt the bead of water rolling down your chin, then you realised that it wasn’t you.

It was like the sky could sense your conflict and it decided to cry on your behalf when you were o hellbent that you wouldn’t be vulnerable. It started off as sparse drops of water on your face until the silver strings of water became a downpour. 

You were a mess as you scrambled to find cover, clutching your bag close to your chest as you ran under the rain, barely able to see what was in front of you. Amidst the heavy veil of rain that covered the street, you spotted a distant glow. A warm light from afar, and with your clothes soaked through and your brain tangled by every train of thought that had been bothering you, your feet moved on its own.

You just wanted somewhere you could be, somewhere you could hide for even just a second.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed-”

The man standing by the counter turned around at the sound of the wooden door being slid open. He was holding a cup in hand and a towel in another, clearly in the middle of closing things up. He froze in place when he saw you standing by the door, drenched from top to bottom and your eyes looking down. Your shoulders were drooping down, your lips quivering as your chest rose and fell to the heavy breaths that you were struggling to maintain. You looked like a mess and shame burnt through your face when you realised you were barging into someone getting ready to be finished with their day, unlike you who were just finding a place to escape to.

He paused and stared at you for a while before slowly opening his mouth again, “Welcome, take a seat wherever you like.”

You felt the lump at the back of your throat at this stranger letting you stay even though it was likely that you being there wouldn’t be anything but helpful to his work. Your dignity wanted to say that you wouldn’t want to be a bother and that you would be leaving soon but as the loud crack of thunder made your body shock, you swallowed it down and muttered a soft thank you as you pulled out the tall stool right in front of the bar table.

The crisp sound of rain drops falling onto the ceiling and the occasional thunder filled the empty shop as you sat there. You stared at your crossed hands that were in front of you, your brain completely blank as the wetness of your clothes slowly seeped through. You shuddered at how cold the layers felt, trying to curl up on your seat as a last resort for some warmth. The man, who you assumed to be the owner of this shop, was at the back and you wondered if it was because he took pity at how disheveled you were and decided to give you some space.

You could hear the occasional clank of ceramics and pots from the kitchen. Warm lights, steam that was slipping past the door curtain, the clicks of gas stoves being turned on. It all felt so terribly like home. Not the small apartment that you had to be careful doing anything to in fear of losing your deposit, the one where you could hear the sound of the tv even at the door right as you step in, the one with someone waiting for you to be home, the one where you could smell the sweet scent of rice from the kitchen.

The one where you were not along.

You felt the tear prickling at the corner of your eye and you quickly brought your hand up to press against your forehead, forcing the soreness in your nose to go away. You had been on your own for so long and probably would be for even longer, you could not let your mind wander to places that would crush you down like that. Not now, not when you knew how hard it would hit you.

The click on the table in front of you broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, and your eyes widened as you looked up to see what was placed in front of you.

White streams rose from the black lacquerware, the shine and the patterns on top a sharp contrast to the onigiri placed on the plate by its side. They were rounded, put on a long rectangular plate side by side with a small stripe of nori wrapped around them. You could see each grain of rice clearly, the light made it looked like they were clear enough for you to see through it. You looked into the bowl to see pieces of vegetables and tofu floating in the cloudy liquid, the soft scent of miso filling your senses as you leaned forward.

Tonjiru and onigiri, how long had it been since you had this?

“You need something to warm you up.” the man said with a small smile, brushing the fallen strands of his silver bangs away from his eyes as he turned away from you.

You nodded as you took the bowl from the counter, your lips pursed together into a thin line at the million flavours that were in your heart. You let out a soft sigh at the heat on your finger tips. It had been awfully long since you had anything as homely as this, and your own breath melted in with the steam that was blurring over your vision.

You tasted the warm soup at the tip of your tongue with your first sip, slowly gliding down your throat into your stomach and then the warmth slowly spread across your entire body from your core. The onions were cooked through, melting into the soup and soft against like jelly. slices of potato were nearly mashed up, the sandy texture still permanent in your mouth even after you gulped it down. The pork was cut up into thin pieces, tender and with the flavour of the stock all blended in. You could still taste the vague hints of the stock between your teeth, your breath shaky as you hold the bowl in your hand.

They said life was made up of different flavours, and right now the flavour on the strings of your heart was salty, from the jar of sealed emotions that shattered on the ground at something as simple as a bowl of warm soup made handed to you by a total stranger.

You did not know you were crying until you tasted the saltiness at the corner of your lips, and you lifted the bowl to your mouth before the sobs could even leak out.

You gulped down the soup, despite how you felt like you were having trouble trying to breathe with the ache at the back of your throat. The man had his back towards you, continuing with cleaning up the many dishes piled up as you cried at the far corner away from him. He had never met you and in his head, you were probably just another annoying customer who took up the time he could have had to himself by being a sobbing mess in his shop, but there was a silent gentleness in the way he didn’t flinch or budge even once as your sobs slowly erupted in a bawl, like you were not there at all, like the fact you were there was just another part of his routine.

You had calmed down a little when you saw the bottom of the bowl, your cries now turned into broken whimpers. You took a small bite into the onigiri and smiled amidst your tears at the sweetness from the grain and the hints of vinegar that expanded in your mouth. There was no filling within, but just the taste of rice was enough to make you feel the purest form of joy. The sound it made when you bit down on the seaweed was nothing less than satisfying and as you felt the crunch between your teeth, the tears rolling down you face and making your chest ache stopped. 

The man’s hands slowed down as you stopped crying but he waited for a moment before turning around like he wanted to make sure that he would not interrupt you at a moment of vulnerability. 

“How much is it?” you asked. Your voice coming out much weaker than you wanted it to be, like you were out of breath and with a strong nasal from your earlier sobs. 

“It’s on the house.” the man said and he couldn’t hide the slight amusement behind his eyes as you visibly panicked.

“I really shouldn’t-”

“I can’t charge you for something that isn’t on par with our usual quality,” he said, pushing your hand that was holding your wallet away softly. You wanted to argue that it was the nicest meal that you’ve had in a while but he stopped you before you could even speak, “so please.”

You stared at him. His eyes were fixed on you, not once wavering during this exchange. You sighed, knowing that there was no way he would back down, and a sly grin found its way to his lips.

You thanked the owner again and again before you walked out the door. With a soft swish, you were alone on the street again but somehow you didn’t feel all too bothered by that.

The rain had stopped.

Taking a deep breath, you could smell the distinct smell of rain lingering in the air. Walking away, you took one look at the shop before you left. The door curtain hanging on the upper half of the door was flowing with the wind, the symbol of the shop printed on in white.

“Onigiri Miya”.

-

Onigiri Miya.

You looked up from your phone to the front of the shop and then back at your phone. 

You had deliberately put off coming again after last time for a couple of days, even though there wasn’t a moment when it wasn’t in your mind. Somehow, you were paranoid about if you actually had the face to show up again after the owner had practically seen you at your lowest point. It was embarrassing to be remembered as the person who barged in late at night and cried on someone’s bar table.

And it most definitely didn’t help that even with tears in your eyes and you practically struggling to breathe properly, you still clearly remembered that the owner was likely your age and very attractive.

Maybe you should just leave. Your legs planted firmly on the ground as you thought of everything that could happen if you go in there. But really, you should go in as a proper customer at least for once after the owner practically treated you to a free meal. You gulped at the reminiscence of the warm soup that washed down your system and the crunchiness of the nori, you could feel your stomach rumbling just at the thought of it. How was it that such simple food had such an impact on you that you couldn’t stop thinking about it? 

You would just go in there, eat your food, actually pay this time around and leave. What was the worst that could happen?  

But on a second thought, did you really want to go back in there? Did you really-

“Sorry to interrupt whatever deep thought you might be having,” you jumped at the voice from behind you and was shocked to see that it was the owner standing behind you. 

Wait, no, this wasn’t him. 

“But are you going inside?” the man pointed at the sliding door of the entrance.

“Yeah,” you blurted out and went to grab the door like it was exactly what you were about to do anyways, groaning inside at how your earlier conflict was all for nothing, “yeah, of course.”

“Irassha-” the man behind the counter, the actual owner, looked up as the door was slide open, “ara?”

“Samu...” the man brushed past you as he sat right at the center of the bar table but the owner didn’t look away from you and nodded in greeting which you immediately reciprocated, your eyes glancing between the two subtly. Seeing them side-by-side, you could now see that while their facial features were near identical, the two men had deliberately styled their hair differently and dyed them a different colour. The blond laid on the wooden table the moment he sat down, rambling on about how “people nowadays didn’t know what a good joke was anymore”. 

You gingerly picked the seat that was the furthest away from him, carefully pulling the stool and had your back straight as you looked around the store. You were too deep in thought that you didn’t even pay much attention to your surroundings the last time you were here. There was nothing fancy about the humble interior, the earthy tones of the wooden structure of the building and the warm lights that were used a very good compliment to the food it served. Down to earth and simple, but sometimes it was the simplicity that draws out the best flavour.

“What can I get you?”

Your back tensed up at the sudden attention that was put on you. The owner of the shop stood in front of you with his arms crossed and you tried your hardest to save yourself the embarrassment that your eyes immediately picked up on the way his biceps flexed under the black t-shirt that fit his form perfectly. You had already broken down in front of this man, the last thing you would want is for him to notice that you were subtly not-so-subtly checking him out.

“Oh,” you snapped out of your trance, your nerves returning as you felt him waiting for you to say something. “um...”

Leaning back, you looked around at the many items that were written on thin wooden boards hung right above the counter. Salmon roe, tuna with scallion, marinated plum, stewed pork... the list went on and on, and that was only for the onigiri. How were you supposed to make a decision when there were so many to choose from? 

Miya Osamu felt a foreign swell in his chest as your eyes racked over the menu. Your tongue slightly poking out as you were lost in your thoughts and it was like he could see you debating with yourself as your glance jumped back and forth. He did not get to talk to you when you first walked in but he immediately remembered you as the one who came in that night with the particularly heavy rain. Even as his twin’s blabbering held a tight grip on his attention, he could not help himself but stealing glances at your direction. He could see the way you sat with your back straight and your shoulders stiffed at the corner of his eye but right now, the previous density was all gone.

He would have to admit that he had been wondering if you would come back after your initial encounter. He was not keen on acknowledging that he had been waiting for you to show up again even though judging by the look on your face as you took that first bite, he was almost certain you would.

You were still not able to decide on what you want which normally would be quite an annoyance (especially if it was Atsumu being indecisive because seriously dude, why are you being conflicted? You would get the exact same thing in the end anyways) but he just found how serious you were to be oddly endearing. He was tempted to tease you a little, to see you flustered and panic a little but bite his tongue at the potential of you tensing up again.

“Do you want to try a new product?” and there it was, the subtle glint of excitement in your eyes that you immediately tried to hide, “It’s not out on the menu yet and I’ve been hoping to find someone to try it out.”

The blonde at the other side perked up, his cheeks puffed out as he chewed on the onigiri he had in hand. His voice was muffled as he spoke, “Wait, samu-”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” the owner snapped around before turning back to you with a smile, ignoring the look of discontent on his brother’s face. “So?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you were quick to nod, smelling the lingering smell of gunpowder in the air, “sure.”

The owner hummed and went to the back of the kitchen. You shuddered when you suddenly met the gaze of the man sitting opposite to you. Were you roped into some sort weird sibling rivalry? You wanted to look away but didn’t have the guts as he stared at you. His eyes pursed into thin lines as he chewed slowly before glancing at the kitchen and then back to you. His eyebrows quirked up as his eyes widened, his lips curling up like he had gotten something figured out. You let out a heavy breath as he finally turned his eyes back to his meal.

Ok, what was that supposed to mean?

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” 

You gleamed at the plate that was placed in front of you. Unlike the small rice balls from last time, this one was nearly the size of your fist and you could feel your mouth watering just at the smell of freshly cooked rice. 

Clasping your hands together and giving a quick nod, you picked it up and took a bite. You could not stop yourself from humming in delight when you bite straight into the filling, the flavour immediately filling your cavity. The distinct taste of toro hit you in full force, but the fishiness was not too overwhelming as the saltiness from the soy sauce balanced it out. The tuna was well marinated with the sauce soaking through each piece, small dots of roasted sesame seeds making it look extra enticing. You could taste the hint of sesame oil that followed as the fish melted on your tongue, the mix of flavours still left between your teeth after you swallowed. The sauce seeped into the rice surrounding the filling and you could taste the careful balance of saltiness and the aftertaste of the vinegar with each bite. 

Everything was just right, not one flavour outshining the other.

“How is it?” Osamu asked and chuckled as you frantically nodded.

He liked eating, but watching other people eat was a whole other kind of enjoyment.

He watched as you licked away the drop of sauce at the corner of your lips before taking a large gulp of the warm cup of tea in front of you, letting out a satisfied sigh as you held the rim of the cup by your lips.

“It’s so good,” you said, your voice muffled as you pressed the tissue against your mouth, “it’s marinated tuna right?”

You could see the blonde’s behind the owner shook when you mentioned the word “tuna”.

Osamu nodded, his chest puffing out in pride. “Tuna toro marinated in special soy sauce overnight.”

“You had something with a toro filling but you-”

Osamu turned around to give his twin a sharp glare, and Atsumu muttered about how this was the utter betrayal.

“It’s gonna be a hit if you put it on the menu,” you dipped your hand in your bag to search for your wallet, “how much is it?”

“Well, I can’t charge you for something that isn’t actually on sell.”

Your eyes widened. No, you were not going to let him give you free food again. “But-”

“Just get more food when you come back next time,” he said nonchalantly like it made total sense, taking the empty plate in hand and didn’t allow you the time the object, “ok, and that’s settled.”

You wanted to argue that it was not settled, but he didn’t look back as he disappeared into the kitchen again. 

Atsumu looked between his brother and you as you thanked him once again for the meal before leaving. He tilted his head as he watched Osamu smiled at the door even after you were gone. He looked at his twin, and then back at the door, tilting his head as he recalled your exchange earlier.

Next time? Next time???

Atsumu smirked, “You sly, sly bastard.”

“Shut up, tsumu.”

-

“Irasshaimase-” Osamu said, a small smirk gracing his features as he spotted that it was you pushing the door open, “arara?”

“I came to get my daily fix of Onigiri Miya onigiri.” you said in a sing song voice, plopping on your regular seat at the corner of the bar table. The store was bustling with people but somehow, the seat at the corner was always empty when you arrive no matter how many people there was. You greeted several of the other regulars that you recognised, leaning your chin on your palm as Osamu put down the cup of tea in front of you.

“What do you want today?”

“Hm... I don’t know...” your brows furrowed together. No matter how many times you had come here, there was still no way that you could decide on what to get at the spot. It felt like you were missing out on something no matter what you settled on. “What is the owner recommending today?”

Osamu laughed and you couldn’t help but grin. You weren’t sure if it was that he got you so hooked on his cooking that you were mistaking it as attachment or was it genuine attraction, but there was no denying that part of the reason you came back was for the young owner who managed to make the simplest of food tasted like something fit for a king.

“I think I have just the thing for you.” he said, filled with confidence as he turned around.

“Are you not going to tell me what it is?” you leaned forward as you yelled, snorting in amusement as a distant “nope” passed through your ears from behind the curtain. 

You closed your heads, tilting your head as you listened to the soft sound of ceramics clinking, the ticking of the stove and the sound of water boiling. This was nice, you thought to yourself, like home.

“There you go.”

You couldn’t help but laugh when you saw what he put in front of you, attracting the stare of several other customers but you didn’t care. Your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was as you took the black lacquerware in hand, humming as you smelt the delicious scent of miso with the stream.

“You are not reminding me of very happy times here,” you pretended to glare at him, your eyebrows quirking up as you sent him a look of judgment but your features softened when you took a sip of the soup. Same old taste, still brought the exact amount of warmth to your heart. Looking back, you were glad that things happened the way it was. There was no more pain left inside your heart when you were reminded of that night, only the simple gratitude that everything turned out alright.

You were doing better now than you were before, and with something to look forward to whenever you walked past the wooden doors that you now know so well.

You finished the soup in gulps, letting out a satisfied sigh as you closed your eyes to take in the flavour. 

It was a good thing that you had your eyes closed, or else Osamu couldn’t stare at you as shamelessly as he was. The way you hold each dish in hand and took each bite with so much joy never failed to give him a rush. 

Osamu liked eating, and he liked watching people eat too but nothing could compare to the thrill he felt when it was you munching down on his cooking like you had been starving until you came to him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love everything you make,” you said, wiping the corner of your lips with your thumb as you took a bite at the plain onigiri, “but I can never get tired of this.”

“I can keep making it for you," he blurted out. You looked up, watching as his eyes widened when he realised what exactly he just said, “if you want...”

And there it was, the same feeling that he felt when you first came into this place drenched from head to toe and your eyes swollen. The same ache at the back of his throat and the weight in his chest that gave him the impulse that he had to cook you something, that he had to make sure you left this place with no more tears in your eyes. 

You smiled, and at that moment he was certain that if it meant he could see that every day, then he wouldn’t mind cooking for you for the rest of his life.

“Of course.”

-

The sharp buzz of your alarm rudely interrupted you from your sleep and you groaned as you rolled to your side.

The other end of the mattress was empty, as always. You laid on the bed, facing the ceiling as you struggle to keep your eyes open. God, you pressed your palm to your forehead, why couldn’t you just spare me five more minutes?

It was the sweet smell floating down the corridor into your nostrils that gave you the motivation to stay awake. You sighed as your stomach rumbled, pushing the blanket off of you as you sat up straight against the back board.

Pulling the first shirt you could find on the floor, you yawned as the black t-shirt that was far too big for you draped over your body. You rubbed your eyes as you made your way down to the kitchen, the sizzling getting louder and louder as you got close.

You leaned on the frame of the door, smiling as you watched your boyfriend stirring at the frying pan with a pair of long chopsticks and the other hand at his waist. You had a deep appreciation for him at all times, but you always swoon for Miya Osamu the hardest when he was in the small kitchen of your apartment.

How could you not fall in love again and again with a man who wakes up early every morning to make breakfast for you?

His back tensed up when he felt you wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and you leaned your face against him pressing a small kiss at the blade of his shoulder. You chuckled as he relaxed again, feeling each flex of his body as you silently admired his built.

“Morning, samu.”

“Morning,” his hand didn’t stop, curling the egg in the long rectangular pan up until it was a nicely formed roll, “breakfast will be ready soon, can you get the bowls out?” 

You hummed, your hands lingering just a little as you let go of him. You took a whiff of the steam as the lid of the rice cooker sprung up, taking the rice spoon in hand and give it a quick fold before filling the bowls up.

Sitting down in front of the table, you leaned back to stare at Osamu who was still busying himself in the kitchen. He was always so concentrated when he cooks, his brows pressed together and lips pursed. The scent of food filled the air as you waited for him at the table, the sound of morning news playing in the background.

Home was knowing that each dish on the table was cooked by someone that has you in their mind and to the person who did the cooking, that no matter what you bring out, there was someone waiting for you by the table.

You looked at the plates lined up on the table with a smile on your face. Today’s breakfast was rice with miso soup, tamagoyaki, pan-fried salmon and salad made with last night’s leftovers. 

“So,” Osamu took his chopsticks in hand after sitting down in front of you and you did the same. 

It was not about what you were eating, it was about who you were eating with.

You grinned as your voices overlapped.

“Itadakimasu.”

[sunflowersteves]

Unforgivable || ch. three

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Your life with Natasha seemed like pure bliss until the team mistakes you for an agent gone rogue. 

Author’s note: Here’s the last part! I’ve loved this journey trip of angst. I hope you all enjoy! Imma do a little extra with a smutty honeymoon ;))))

Warnings: angst, fluff!, swearing, angsty plot, basically the whole team is a dick

Main Masterlist

Previously:

Now you had to make a choice. Forgive Natasha or never see her again? On one hand, you wanted to be back in her arms again. Smelling her shampoo and kissing her temple all while that passion and love fill your stomach. But on the other hand, the Avengers had threatened you and your life. Natasha thought they were right. Natasha believed them, believed that you used her for information.

Although, you know you’ve already made your decision.

~~

Natasha had been holding up in her room ever since she took you to the bus station. She knew she needed to keep her distance from you but she couldn’t help but sulk. She also didn’t want any confrontation with the team, she was still super pissed. Honestly, she would probably break each of their fingers right now.

She realized that you were it for her. You were the light of her life, the sunshine that shone through her terrible days. She remembered how after particularly hard missions, you wouldn’t ask and question. You’d immediately run a bath and take a loofah, gently rubbing up and down her skin.

Sometimes she would stare at you in awe, no one has ever done that before. Most of the people Nat has been with, they’d just brush her off. You on the other hand would pamper and comfort until she was happily smiling. 

Natasha would just stare blankly in front of her, the darkness of her past haunting every movement she took. You could always tell when a mission went bad or it uncovered some dark secrets. You would wrap your arms around her waist and just hold her there while she softly cried into your arms.

Normally the two of you would spend time making dinner together, laughing, and dancing around in the kitchen. However, on the days that the two of you would need each other, one of you would make the other their meal.

You always made sure to have Nat’s favorite dish ingredients on hand. You’d stir the pasta around with a fork and the pesto sauce was poured on top. On days that were particularly bad, you would feed her yourself. You’d wrap the fork around the noodles, “Open wide, sweetheart.” Tears would always prick her eyes at your gentle voice and open her mouth, watching her chew it all down.

On good days, the two of you would cuddle and watch as many movies as you could. Her favorite to watch with you was horror because you’d jump in her arms and she’d coo at you until you were no longer scared. Sometimes you would go to parks and swing together on a swing set. Nat would bring a picnic basket with both of your favorite snacks and you’d endlessly tease each other.

Natasha had never realized how much she loved you until you were gone. Sure, she was aware that she was in love with you but not hopelessly so in love that she never wants to spend the rest of her life with anyone else but you. A couple of tears escaped down her cheeks, a full sob running out of her mouth.

All she felt, as she was curled up in a ball on her bedroom floor, was heartbreak. The depth of her stomach would twist and turn as she kept thinking about you running away from everyone. Her organs felt tangled in one another and she felt like her lungs were collapsing in on her. She was drowning. Drawing in the sorrow that was the loss of the love of her life. She was drowning in the anger and disappointment of herself and her friends.

She believed their word over yours. The ones who made the mistake of thinking you were from Hydra. She should’ve trusted you. She should’ve immediately run after you, assuring you that she believed you.

But she didn’t. She didn’t run after you and envelope you into her arms. She let her friends spoil her mind into thinking that you manipulated her.

A light knock at the door disrupted her thoughts. Was it you? Had you given a tiny ounce of forgiveness? She lifted herself up from the floor and pulled open the bedroom door. “Clint.” She sighed, her stomach plummeting to the ground. She almost slammed the door in his face but he kept his foot wedged.

“Nat-”

“I don’t want to hear it, okay?” Nat sat back down onto her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. Heavy sobs raked over her body and her shoulder flinched as Clint tried to comfort her. He did it again but this time she let him, Natasha’s wails were compressed with hurt and sorrow.

He pulled her into his arms and rubbed his hand back and forth. “I am so so sorry, Nat. I’m so sorry that we made you believe that she was a double agent. I should’ve looked better into it. This isn’t an excuse but I’m going to be honest with you. I’m in love with you, Natasha.” Her eyes snapped towards his, a gasp leaving her mouth. Her tears had slowly stopped and it slowly turned into rage.

“So that means you can just shove her away as you did? It means that because you love me, you get to drive others away?” She tried to get out of his hold but he only seemed to hug her even harder. He shook his head at her question. Sure, he was in love with Nat but he genuinely thought that you worked for Hydra.

“When I saw how happy you were, my whole world crashed. When you were introducing us to your girlfriend, I mean, I was jealous to the point of trying to find dirt on her. So when I found that file, I wanted it to be true.” She sighed, the anger was still coursing through her veins at each word he spoke but she kept quiet. Nat knew that he wasn’t done with what he was saying.

“But then I saw how hard this hit you. The pain and suffering and desperation that this whole situation made me realize how dumb I was being. I want you to be happy Nat,” He turned to look at her face, her eyes flickering between his. “Again, none of this is an excuse for my actions. I just want you to know my side. If it helps, I had all of us go apologize to her and explain your side.” 

Her whole body perked up, she grabbed onto Clint's shoulders, “What? What’d she say? Is she oka-”

“I’m not going to lie to you Nat, she looked hurt. But she seemed to understand your side of the story. We also want to make it up to her, if you two decide to rekindle.” She nodded, a couple of tears streamed down her face as she thought about the heartache you were going through. She knew how hard you took things sometimes.

“What about you, Clint?” He waved his hand up dismissively, assuring her that he’s going to be fine. “I’ll be okay. I’m still very much in love with you but I’ll be okay. I’ll move on,” A bright smile caressed his lips at the thought of his plans tonight. “I even have a date with this really cute girl named Laura.” 

The two of them giggled and talked a bit about what she was going to do to try and win you back. However, if you wanted space she'd give you that in a heartbeat. Clint eventually left to get ready for his date leaving Nat back alone in her room.

She was contemplating running in your arms right now or just letting you think over things, so she could contact you.

But what if you were thinking the same? What if you were waiting for her to react?

Oh, fuck what if’s, Nat thought. She could sit there all day wondering what you would do and how you react. Why doesn’t she just get up off her ass and ask you? Worst comes to worst and you slam the door in her face. Although, that’s still an answer.

She picked herself off the bed and grabbed her things. She ran out the door to try and run down the long hallway but was stopped by a body slamming into her. She immediately went to see if the person was okay but then she froze.

There you were, right in front of her. Your hair was framed perfectly around your face, your tear-stained cheeks were wet but Nat couldn’t help but see how adorable you looked. Sunshine had radiately off of you despite being in a very big predicament. Your clothes were rushed to be put on and your shoes weren’t even tied.

“Nat-”

She interrupted you but launched herself in your arms, screaming almost at the top of her lungs. “I am so so sorry! I shouldn’t have believed them. I should’ve come running to you. I’m so sorry. I will do anything, and I mean anything if it means you’ll give me a second chance. But also if you want me to leave, I’ll-”

You immediately shushed her, stroking her bright red hair. “I’m not going to leave. I love you, Nat. I love you so so much. I can’t see spending my life anywhere else but with you.” Large sobs from the two of you filled the air. Her grip on you was tight like you were going to disappear if she let go.

“I’m not going to forgive you easily though. We have a lot to work on and a lot to work on with the Avengers but I’m willing to give it a shot.” She held you even tighter before, and you let go of her hold just a bit. Your heat ached as a whimper left her mouth but you quickly filled her reassurance with a light, feverish kiss. 

~~

Three years later

“Tony, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I will stab you.” Tony was all choked up to see Nat in her wedding dress near the altar. Tony just rolled his eyes at Nat and kept sobbing to himself. “I will cry all I want.”

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes, “Just don’t fuck up the wedding photos.”

Wanda was next to her in her bridesmaid dress and a small bouquet. The music started to play and the chatter died down. A gasp left her lips as you came into view, your dad having his arm locked around yours.

You were utterly beautiful. Your white dresses pooled largely around your feet, the flowery patterns had skated up and down the dress. Your veil was covering your face but Natasha already knows that you were the most beautiful person in the world.

You walked down the aisle and your dad let go of you, walking towards Nat with a fit of giggles. She lifted up your veil and gasped, her heart swelling with love and adoration. 

The ceremony went on, saying the ‘I do’s’ to each other and holding hands. The smiles never left your faces. If you were being honest, you forgot about everyone else in the room. The only thing you could stare at was her in her wedding dress.

“You may now kiss the bride.” Natasha didn’t waste any time and she pounced on you. She grabbed your face and pressed her lips against yours. The chapel erupted with glee and shooting at the two of you officially being married. 

Her hands snaked around your waist and your nose occasionally bumped. Her tongue tasted like honey, light fireworks erupted in your stomach at the feeling of her around you. She moved her head back, the two of you panting and the cheers still roaring in your ear.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~~

Natasha Romanoff: @natasha-danvers

Unforgivable: @messuhp @dark-heart-no-soul @jenny-song @kangerland @izalesbean

Permanent Taglist: @hailmary-yramliah @kitkatd7 @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan

[harryissuchalittleshit]

For the headcannon/prompt thing: could you do anything happy with angelina and george? Everyone always writes them as depressed and unable to love each other and I just really see them as being happy together.

Oh boy, I just finished my George/Angelina fic today, and I love this prompt! I’m going to give you a snippet of what I’ve been working on, and let me tell you, I personally believe Angelina regretted going to the Yule Ball with Fred and wished that George asked her, and George wishes the same. Why would they get married and have children if they didn’t love each other?? Anyways here’s a scene I wrote of there wedding!

“I love you,” George told her, as he flipped her veil up. She was crying, but smiling at him, perfect.

“I know,” whispered Angelina as she squeezed his hand. “I love you too.”

George stared at Angelina’s face, unable to look away as the officiant talked and talked and talked, explaining away all of their pain and sorrows and sadness. He didn’t want to hear their story in a new way, he had lived through it already, so did Angelina.

“George,” said Angelina and he blinked, “vows?”

They had chosen to write their own vows, to say what they wanted to each other. But every time that he had sat down to write, he just stared at the parchment or doodled little hearts.

“I love you Angelina,” said George and he suddenly wished that they weren’t surrounded by everyone they loved and it was just the two of them. “And I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you. You’re smart and funny and the most beautiful person I have ever met. You make me laugh and smile every day, even when I don’t want to. You love me even when I don’t love me, and every day with you has made my life better.”

He paused, not knowing where he was going, but just feeling every word in his heart.

“I promise that I won’t leave my socks on when we go to bed because you hate it, and I promise to do the dishes when you make dinner. I promise to kiss you every morning when we wake up, and I promise to tell you ‘I love you’ every night before bed. I promise to make you laugh at least once a day, and I promise that the jokes won’t be good either.”

Angelina giggled and George reached forward to wipe away a stray tear, before kissing her cheek.

“I promise to love you through it all, Ange. There will be a lot of ups and downs, we will be sad and happy and hopeful and devastated, we will be hurt and we’ll hurt each other, but I promise to be there through it all. As long as you have me, I will have you.”

“That’s tough to follow up Gee,” whispered Angelina and George smiled.

“I love you too, George,” said Angelina, loud enough so everyone could hear, and there was no weepiness in her voice, only strength. “You have always managed to make the bad feel better. You’ve always managed to make every bad day into something good, even if it was making me laugh in the worst moments of my life. You’ve always made my life just a little more, a little more fun, a little more funny, a little more happier, even when I didn’t want it. And somehow, even when I’m falling apart, you manage to make it easier, you managed to make me laugh and smile and feel just a little bit better after we lost Beth. You came to my mama’s funeral with flowers a trick wand to make me smile, and you crashed my grandmamma’s funeral and held my hand because you knew I needed you.”

“You make my life better and I’ll never be able to repay you,” continued Angelina, her voice never breaking or wavering, and her smile never leaving her face. “So now it’s my turn to make a few promises. I promise to sing in the shower, because you like it when I wake you up that way after overnights. I promise to do the dishes after you make dinner. I promise to laugh at the jokes that you think are bad, even though there not. I promise that I’ll kiss you every night before bed and tell you that ‘I love you’ every morning.”

She paused and George squeezed her fingers, he wanted to hold her in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and not give a damn about what their guests and family thought.

“I promise to love you George,” said Angelina, wiping at her own eyes. “I promise to always love you, we’ve already been through the worst, so I know it can only get better from here. I love you, I will always love you, and I’m so happy that it’s always been you and will forever be you.”

George was faintly aware of the officiant talking, the only thing that mattered was exchanging their rings and holding Angelina’s hand.

Tick…tock…tick…tock.

Angelina’s lips felt so warm and familiar and perfect. He knew there were a hundred different things he would change about the day, but this moment, this very moment, was not one of them.

She was no longer Angelina Caralynn Johnson, instead she would forever be Angelina Caralynn Weasley.

His wife.

George Weasley is straight up the type of person the scream, “that’s my wife!” ala John Mulaney style about Angelina. And I honestly love that for them.

Send me a Weasley and I’ll give you a fic, a couple of head canons, or my thoughts on canon vs fanon

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday Reissue: The Heart Attack

Note: This is a repost of an older Stay Golden Sunday that had to be redone for housekeeping reasons.

Sophia becomes very ill one night and is convinced she’s going to die. The Girls confront the idea of mortality.

Picture It…

The Girls bid farewell to their guests as a storm rages outside. They praise Sophia for the meal she cooked for everyone, and Blanche says it was even better than the food she ate in Italy. The Girls tell Sophia to take a load off in the living room. They start the dishes in the kitchen, while Rose talks about her family’s Scandinavian cooking.

Back in the living room, Sophia says she’s got a “bubble” of pressure in her chest. Rose thinks it might be gas, but Dorothy says her mother isn’t looking so good. Blanche goes to call the doctor. Sophia clutches her chest as the bubble turns to pain. Dorothy lays her down, while Sophia worries she could be having a heart attack. Blanche says the doctor was out, so she called the paramedics.

DOROTHY: Ma, you know, you don’t look good. SOPHIA: I’m short and I’m old. What did you expect, Princess Di?

The two discuss their family’s deaths – which include a fall from a donkey and misfiring a gun while taking out the garbage – to rule out the possibility of heart disease. Blanche and Rose talk about how death should come without pain or illness, getting sidetracked until Dorothy shuts them up. They go to make coffee, while Sophia begins to worry she’ll die. She starts giving Dorothy instructions on what to do after she’s dead, and says Dorothy was always her favorite, even if she never showed it.

In the kitchen, Rose and Blanche discuss death. Rose says her family members live to their 90s and 100s, which Blanche attributes to the Minnesota cold slowing down the aging process. They also discuss cremation vs burial: Rose wants to be buried with all her sentimental items, while Blanche wants to be buried in Arlington Cemetery because it’s full of men. Sophia tells Dorothy she loves her. When Rose and Blanche return with the coffee, she thanks them for keeping her company. She decides to rest while Blanche goes to call the paramedics again.

BLANCHE: Do you want to be buried or cremated? ROSE: Neither! BLANCHE: What do you want to be, flushed down the toilet like a goldfish?

Rose tells Dorothy it’s probably not a heart attack, as she’s seen one and they’re bigger. She recounts Charlie’s heart attack to Dorothy, which happened while they were making love (she told Arnie this back in Episode 3, but this is the first time she’s told one of the other Girls). She dressed him before emergency services arrived, and his last words were that he loved her. Blanche returns and says the paramedics are held up by the storm, and they’ll just have to wait… and pray, as Rose adds.

The Girls crowd Sophia, who wakes up and tells them she had a near-death experience and saw Heaven. She describes seeing her husband and asks Dorothy to get her rosary. Blanche’s main interest is if there are lots of men in Heaven (which… why wouldn’t there be?), and eventually goes to help Dorothy. Left alone with Sophia, Rose bugs the crap out of her by recounting farm stories.

BLANCHE: What about men? Are there lots of men in Heaven? ROSE: Oh Blanche, come on! BLANCHE: Well you asked her about God and Jesus!

In Sophia’s room, Dorothy’s going through Sophia’s things, looking for the rosary. She tells Blanche that she’s not ready for Sophia to die, and that she’ll still feel like an orphan at her age. She breaks down in tears at the thought, and Blanche comforts her by saying Blanche and Rose are her family too, and they’re there for her.

In comes Dr. Harris, presumably Elliott’s replacement as their house-call doctor. He inspects Sophia and finds her side is sensitive, so he asks her what she ate recently. The girls list a truly disgusting amount of food, including scungilli, fried mozzarella, and two boxes of Milk Duds. Dr. Harris says it’s not a heart attack, but more likely a gallbladder attack from overeating. Sophia is instantly relieved, but takes back what she said about Dorothy being her favorite now that she’s not dying.

Later that evening, the Girls minus Sophia (who’s presumably resting) talk about mortality in the kitchen. They question the reason they worry about things like dieting when they’re going to die eventually – a thinly veiled excuse to eat some chocolate cake and ice cream. They do eventually get turned off of the dessert when they realize that, while they are going to die eventually, they’ll feel the negative effects of overeating immediately, like Sophia did. They decide to go out for a walk (one hopes the storm is not still raging), and Blanche brings it back around to her favorite topic:

BLANCHE: Let’s go for a walk. ROSE: Right, burn it off! DOROTHY: Are you kidding? After what we ate, we’d have to walk to Canada. BLANCHE: Oh, Mounties! I love Canadian men!

“You couldn’t say ‘belch?’ What is it, a Viking curse?”

This is the first episode that centers around Sophia, and given the multiple references to her age and health in the preceding nine episodes, it’s fitting that it’s about a health scare. Estelle Getty, who has mostly played comic relief up to this point in the series, gets her shot at carrying the dramatic half of an episode – and she definitely delivers.

To be a little real with you, this episode has been hard for me to watch the last few years, ever since my mother died. She was the one who introduced me to Golden Girls, and episodes like this hurt both because I know now she and I will never have that Dorothy-and-Sophia rapport in old age like I always assumed – my mom was not even 60 when she died – and because I was basically in Dorothy’s position at the time. If I could have chosen a quote to describe the months of my life after my mother died, it’d probably be this one:

DOROTHY: It doesn’t matter. You lose a parent, you might as well be six. It’s scary. And it pushes you right up to the head of the line.

I appreciate that, when confronted with the possibility that she might die, Sophia’s not accepting or serene even though she’s very old. I think there’s a perception that, when you get old, you just have to accept that you might die soon and be okay with it because you’ve “lived a full life” or some such nonsense. Instead, Sophia outright says “I’m not ready” and that she’d take even one more day of life.

I leave it to other shows to try and teach people to accept death with grace. I prefer Golden Girls’s way, which is to say “Screw that,” and portray the octogenarian matriarch as not wanting to die. There’s something very real in Sophia saying she never really thought she would die.

SOPHIA: 80 years old, and it would come as a complete surprise.

There’s quite a bit of real-world backstory to this one, too. Originally, it was intended to be broadcast live, which is why it’s the first episode since the pilot to take place entirely within the confines of the Girls’ home. According to Golden Girls Forever (quite a treasure trove), NBC had done a live episode of Gimme a Break and attempted to replicate its success with a night of live shows, ostensibly to promote Saturday Night Live. Golden Girls would have been one of about five shows to air its episodes live.

At first all the other shows were onboard, but then showrunners protested the final offering of the night, a detective show called Hunter, couldn’t be filmed live. So the live plan was scrapped. Director Jim Drake remembered it as being for the best, since the actresses weren’t really equipped to do the show in a single live, continuous taping. While their shows were filmed in front of a live studio audience, they still had the option of doing multiple takes. Somewhat relevant, but here’s a video of Golden Girls bloopers:

The other real-world issue that influenced the filming of this episode was one that also cast a pall over the previous episode – the death of Bea Arthur’s and Betty White’s mothers. But while it seemed to throw off the chemistry of the previous episode to a certain extent, if anything it helps this one. There are differing accounts as to whether Rose’s monologue about Charlie’s death was drawn from the deaths of White’s mother or her husband, Allen Ludden. I suspect it’s a combination of both, but you can see she’s genuinely crying while talking about it.

My only real criticism of this episode is that the final scene doesn’t really seem like it’s attached the rest of the story. The Girls talk about their own mortality, and how the fact of dying makes things seem trivial. They don’t even mention Sophia, despite the rest of the episode revolving around her. It feels like a discussion they might have after a friend died – or, more accurately, a scene inserted by a writer who wanted to opine about death for five minutes.

That’s not even mentioning the fact that the way the Girls behave in this scene is very at odds with the rest of the episode. It’s just strange to me that they’d come to the conclusion that, since they’re going to die, they might as well gorge themselves on rich food, when doing so is the exact reason Sophia had a gallbladder attack – and they just heard a doctor tell her that.

Regardless, this is another great Susan Harris episode, and the first episode that puts Sophia front and center. While it’s a bit melancholy there are enough jokes interspersed throughout to keep it from being a downer.

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰🍰 (four cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

The Girls crowd around a sleeping Sophia (see the image at the top of the article), and she wakes with a shout, scaring them all. When Dorothy asks her what’s wrong, she says:

SOPHIA: What? You’re sitting on top of me. I open my eyes, I see pores like that, I think I’m on the moon!

[deltas-writing-corner]

Warmth: Prologue (3/3)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Disclaimers: Besides the prologues, I will be posting the first 1000 or so words of every new/next chapter.  There will be a link to my AO3 at the end of the post, where the full chapters are at!

Warnings: none

Masterlist: (coming soon)

By the time the council for you is ready, you're retrieved from your wooden cell and escorted down the unfamiliar halls of the castle. It was night time once again. You're eventually brought to a large room, a dais on the opposite side of where you enter. On the platform sat Nobunaga, armor no longer being worn and now clad in lighter, casual clothes. The guards sent to retrieve you practically shove you into the room before sliding the doors behind you and leave you for the slaughter.

Besides Nobunaga were familiar faces. Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide sat to his right and left respectively. Next to Hideyoshi, Mitsunari and a man with blond hair and green eyes that you hadn't yet met. Masamune was the lone person next to Mitsuhide. You wonder which is the judge, the jury, and the executioner. The role of executioner is quickly assigned to Mitsuhide.

"Don't just stand there," Nobunaga broke the silence. "Approach me."

You obediently walk forward until you were a respectable distance from all 6 of them before lowering yourself on the tatami. You try not to shake under their scrutinizing gaze.

As soon as you're seated, Nobunaga speaks again. "Now that you've had time to relax and reevaluate the situation, I will ask once more. Who are you, and where do you hail from?"

You're compelled to tell him that he technically knows the answer to the first part of his question. Unfortunately, being a smartass would just make things worse for you. You did reevaluate your choices during your trip to Azuchi and in your cell. You concluded that remaining silent would no longer help you, but in fact hurt you. You doubt they would believe the truth of you hailing from the future, which could potentially make things even more worse. Even if you prove the validity of your claims, you don't have enough information about the people before you to determine whether or not they would use the fact you're from the modern age to their advantage and what that advantage would entail.

You certainly weren't going to tell them you were a god. That would no doubt put you in immediate danger. The power of healing is an attractive power and so is the power over death that your rival-turned-ally just so happens to embody. In conclusion, you couldn't tell them the truth. There were too many negatives that outweighed the few positives you could think of. You couldn't tell them, but the least you can do is explain to them why you can't.

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you." Hideyoshi makes a move to protest, but you cut him off by continuing. "Not to say that I don't want to. I want to tell you all my situation, but it would be extremely dangerous for me if I do."

The blond one rolls his eyes and scoffs, "That's a rather convenient excuse."

"It is," Hideyoshi nods, eyes never once leaving your person. "This woman is clearly untrustable and a liability no doubt. We should send her away and be done with this, my Lord."

"I'm sure our Lord would gladly send her back home. The only problem is we still don't know where her home is," Mitsuhide says. "I have my doubts about her claims of being in some sort of danger, but until we can figure out where it is we should send her, we're unfortunately at a bit of a deadlock."

Hideyoshi looks like he wants to disagree with Mitsuhide, but he reluctantly agrees with everything he said.

Nobunaga speaks your name and you sit up straighter. "Whatever threat is keeping you from speaking, you may consider yourself in safe hands. Tell us the names of those who wish to harm and you have my word that they will be dealt with."

It was relieving to hear that if some sort of third party was threatening you, they would keep you safe and even get rid of the threat. Such an offer was unfortunately unfulfillable. They were threats too.

you shake your head. "You don't understand. If I tell you my truth, there's a chance you all might turn against me. That you might string me up like a puppet and pull my strings until my limbs tear apart. You can sit there and promise me of never doing such a thing. However, the fact that chance exists is enough to make me bite my tongue."

You were on the verge of tears. Never in your life did you hate being a god as much as you do now. No matter how many lives you save, you will always be under threat by the very beings you heal. Maybe Kuro was right in wanting to mark mortals for death. Maybe you were in the wrong this whole time by wanting to reverse their ailments and give humans a second chance at life. For gods' sake, you had to spend 50 years on your lonesome just to restart your life among society, time after time because you felt, and still feel, like you cannot trust anyone with your secret.

You were never trying to play at being a god. Truly, you were trying to play at being human. You will never be one no matter how well you got along with humanity. You felt cold. Cold, alone, and scared of the mortals that sat before you and looked down on you as if you were the biggest inconvenience to them.

Perhaps I was nothing but a burden to my-

As if sensing the downward direction of your thoughts, Kuro does the only thing he knows will grab your attention. He bites you, the hardest he ever has. The pain was so excruciating that you had to grab hold of him by his jaw and throw him off of you.

Mitsunari is the first to break, swiftly making his way towards you despite Hideyoshi's protests. He pulls you back towards him and holds you steady. "Are you alright?" he asks you, concern engulfing his purple eyes.

At this point, a few tears had been shed and your voice was warped from the rising sadness within your throat. "Y-Yeah. His biting stopped my thoughts from spiraling."

You give a thankful nod to Kuro. He nods in return as thanks for you continuing to cover for him.

You turn back towards them, "If..If you want to get rid of me I can leave without making a fuss. I can get by just fine on my own."

No one agrees with or protests your offer. The sight of you, clearly distressed and out of your element, makes them all feel somewhat shameful for treating you as if you were some dangerous criminal up until now. You clearly meant no harm. You didn't even want to burden them with your presence. You were scared and on your own against a group of men you didn't even know.

Nobunaga calls your name once more, This time with much more gentleness than the times before. "I see now that, despite how young you are, you've been through your fair share of ordeals. You clearly cannot muster within yourself the ability to trust anyone due to circumstances. Henceforth, I will allow for you to reside in this castle in exchange for your services to me, until you feel you are ready to come forth and divulge in us the names of those who seek to do you harm."

The tension in the room begins to dissipate. You all but fall to your still scraped knees with relief. This is perfect. You would be granted sanctuary and still maintain a veil of secrecy, within reason no doubt. The others clearly have their reservations over the arrangements, but seeing you no longer on edge lightens the atmosphere significantly. Kuro, no longer presented with a reason to continue lunging at the others, relaxes his tightly wound body for the first time since coming here.

You stretch your palm out towards your companion and he crawls on you without protest, situating himself around your neck once again. Strangely enough, you've grown used to having him in your person in the past day. Now that you two have an alliance of sorts you feel a bit more trusting of him. Maybe this time traveling ordeal will result in you two coming to some sort of understanding with one another. It would honestly do you both good if you worked together than fight all the time.

"I have yet to hear your answer. Will you accept my offer?" Nobunaga asks.

You vigorously nod. "Yes! It's a definite yes. I'll gladly offer whatever services I can give in exchange for lodgings."

He smiles at your enthusiasm. "In that case, I assign you as my chatelaine."

Chatelaine. That's a caretaker of a large house. Sounds like a simple enough job.

"That is an excellent idea," Mitsunari congratulates you. "I will provide you with all the support you need!"

"I'll be counting on you," you tell him.

As you all begin to discuss further details of your arrangement, an uninvited guest sighs in relief at the turn of events from the ceiling.

________________________________________________________________

Once the meeting concludes, you're escorted by Mitsunari to what will be your new room. You didn't expect it to be so large, beautifully furnished too. You would have been fine if they gave you a wooden box for all you care, but that would likely be a dead giveaway. You're painfully reminded of the fact that you won't be living alone anymore or with some distance from other mortals.

You'll have to put in extra effort in order to blend in. That would mean you would have to start eating and sleeping again. You haven't eaten or slept in nearly 300 years. You don't even remember the difference between sweetness and spiciness or what your favorite dishes were.

"Are you alright? You've been frowning this entire time," Mitsunari, ever the angel, looks at you with concern.

"Sorry! I'm still in disbelief. I honestly thought the night would end with me being thrown out onto the streets," you sheepishly say.

"Our lord would have never treated you so harshly, even if he chose to send you away. He can be intimidating at times, I admit. Underneath his tough exterior he is a very generous, but fair, lord."

You find it hard to believe, but the switch in his demeanor from earlier is sufficient evidence to prove the truth in Mitsunari's words. He seems to be the top dog around here. If he was able to exercise leniency to you despite your mysterious origins then you can surely get by alright. You would just have to meet in the middle and become a positive addition to the people here. You've had decades of practice on blending in. You can do this!

"Hey, can I ask you something real quick?"

Mitsunari halts his search for your futon and turns to you. "Anything at all!"

"As chatelaine, what am I expected to do?"

Mitsunari thinks for a moment. "We haven't had a chatelaine before, so I unfortunately can't provide any sound examples. Most likely, you will care for the needs of the castle and residents here as the maids would."

That sounds doable. "Could you introduce me to the maids tomorrow then?"

"I would be honored to! I do have my own duties to attend to though. Hideyoshi is close with most of them, so if I'm unable to retrieve you myself I'll send him in my stead."

Hideyoshi. He's Nobunaga's right hand. He's the one Kuro lunged towards back at the camp. Despite Nobunaga giving his permission for you to stay, he clearly had his own opinions. Understandable, really. You'll have to remind yourself that any harshness towards you from him will be within reason. Hopefully he can learn to tolerate you, and you of him.

"It is late. I will leave for tonight and allow you to rest. It is an honor to have you with us. Sleep well."

Mitsunari gives you one last smile before he exits your room and you're finally left to your own devices. Before you can fall back into the plushness of your futon, you hear a shuffling above you within the ceiling.

"Don't be alarmed," a voice calls out to you. "I'm going to jump down from the ceiling. Is that alright?"

You can't pinpoint the exact source of the voice. Normally, you should be alarmed. Yet even when its muffled, that voice sounds very familiar. You look down to Kuro and he nods. If anything goes wrong, he'll handle it.

"You may," you try to keep your voice down to not draw attention but to also allow for whoever was in the ceiling to hear you.

One of the wooden panels is quietly moved from its place. A person, another man, jumps down and lands in complete silence. Impressive.

"Sorry for the intrusion. Before I begin to explain my reason for visiting at such a late hour, may I ask if you remember me?"

He lowers his mask to reveal his face in full. You do remember him. It was the same man you encountered at the monument. He wasn't wearing his lab coat anymore. His clothing was more in style to the garments everyone else wore. His attire looks as though it allows for better mobility. "I do. From the looks of it, you seem to be better adjusted. Did you perhaps arrive earlier than I did?"

He's shocked that you've deduced the situation so quickly. You were calm as well. He took this as a good sign.

"You're spot on. My name is Sasuke Sarutobi, post-graduate astrophysicist-turned-ninja."

After you introduce yourself to Sasuke. He wastes no time in explaining the circumstances of your apparent time travel. It was hard to grasp even his simplified version, but you were able to figure out that a phenomenon (the storm) is what sent you two back in time. He explained his arrival was 4 years prior to yours and that he's been on the lookout for you while still fulfilling his duties to his employer and adjusting to life here. "I apologize for dragging you into this-"

You cut off his apology with the lift of your hand. "I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sure you'll argue that, even then, there was a chance I could have ended in more dangerous situation. I didn't and that's all there is to it. You have my gratitude for worrying about my well-being for so long."

You bow to him and he accepts your thanks with a bow of his own. Before he can right himself up, he takes notice of Kuro.

Please don't freak out!

"Is that...a snake?"

You nod. "He's my...he's a friend. He won't bite if you leave him be."

"I see. I will keep that in mind. What's his name?"

"Kuro. Unoriginal, I know."

He laughs at your admittance of poor naming skills. You give Kuro a pat on the head. He seems annoyed at your touch but doesn't try to shake you off or hiss at you. You view it as a start towards a better relationship between you two.

"I have one more thing to say. Since this time period was, or rather is, ravaged with war, it's best you remain here until the next wormhole reopens in three months."

"We'll be able to return to our time then, right?"

"Yes. I've estimated the time of its appearance, but not its location. I'll try to have that information as soon as possible. Is that alright?"

"Take all the time you need. I wish you the best until then."

He smiles, "I'll be sure to stop by every now and then to check on you. Until we meet again."

He jumps up with ease and back into the ceiling. The panel is placed back in it's spot and the room is quiet once again. Finally, you're alone for real this time. You're surprised how worn out you feel for once. Deciding now would be a better time than ever to get back into the rhythm of sleep, you crawl under the covers of your already made bed. Kuro follows suit, coiling into himself on top of you.

"It's pretty chilly. Here," you get up, "I'll lend you my sweater."

Mitsunari went out of his way to keep watch over your bag. You make a note to find a way to repay his kindness before you leave in 3 months. You unzip your bag and pull out your wool cardigan, slightly creased from being folded for so long. Hopefully this will do as a bed for Kuro for a while. You make yet another note to make Kuro some sort of proper bed when you get the chance.

Even if work turns out to be boring here, I have a bunch of personal obligations to keep myself busy for a while.

Kuro finds his spot within the sleeve of your cardigan. You giggle a bit, seeing the long bump he made from underneath the fabric. You blow out the light from your lantern and situate yourself back under the covers. You close your eyes and relax each part of your body one at a time. Starting with your toes and ending at the tip of your nose.

You fall asleep within the familiar black nothingness, feeling warm once again.

________________________________________________________________

Previous chapter

Finished the prologue and want to read more? Click here!

[crystalwillow]

Exiled Problems - Chapter Five

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine (F!MC)

Features: Bryce Lahela

Word Count: 2.7K

Warning: This AU features themes of; Angst, Swearing, Alcohol Use, Violence, NSFW Material (Mature Themes, 18+)

Taglist: @sophxwithers @otakudreamer @an-jell-o @curiousconch @mm2305

=========================

Later that evening Casey walked through her front door, head lowered as Ethan and a couple of police officers file in behind her.

“Casey?” Nigel asks hesitantly, “why are the police here. And why is Dr Ramsey here?”

Slowly, Casey looks up revealing the stitches in her lip and the slight black eye that’s formed from where her mother’s hand caught her eye.

Her father gasps in horror, rushing over and searching her eyes. “Who… who done this?”

Casey glares at her mother and spits venomously, “She did.”

Nigel looks over to his wife in pure shock. “Dorothy!?” he exclaims, inspecting Casey’s face before looking back at his wife. “Why?”

“Oh spare her the pity, Nigel. She was being an ungrateful bitch. She’d rather run off with him and ruin the image we’ve worked so hard to build than marry the suitor we’ve picked.” her mother replies just as venomously, the glare she gives Casey matching the intensity of her words, as she points towards Ethan harshly.

“Now you listen here you-” Ethan starts to seethe but stops when Nigel raises a hand.

“I’m disappointed in you, Dorothy.” he expresses sorrowfully, “Whilst I agree we have to make sure she maintains her own image, as well as the family’s; violence is not the answer here.”

“No. It’s okay dad. I’m not staying.” Casey informs them. “I’m just here to collect a few things.”

“What do you mean?” Nigel asks with confusion on his face.

“I’m staying somewhere safer than here.”

“You are safe here, poppet. Come on, your mother didn’t mean this.”

Both women scoff at him before heading off in different directions leaving Nigel standing in awkward silence with Ethan and the officers.

Later Casey struggles down the stairs with 3 big suitcases full of stuff.

“Is 3 suitcases really necessary, Casey?” Ethan asks as he’s drawn back into the moment from the commotion.

“Yes. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” Casey quips.

“I’d think likely 3-5 days. Give things time to blow over and settle down.”

“I don’t want things to blow over and settle down, Dr Ramsey. I want them to change and I want to be able to date who I want to date and not be forced into some loveless marriage for money and my image.”

“I… Right, I see.”

“Do you?” she challenges. “Do you really?”

Ethan gives her a look of surprise at her sudden outburst and she sighs after a moment of tense silence.

“Sorry,” she apologises. “I… I shouldn’t be taking my anger and frustrations out on you. It’s not your fault.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m used to being blamed for things that aren’t my fault. I am a doctor after all. You have to learn to grow a thick skin to these sorts of things.” he smiles back kindly.

An hour later the pair walk through the front door of Ethan’s apartment, abandoning the suitcases by the door. Casey settling on the couch, Ethan disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing with two glasses of water, offering one to Casey as he settled next to her.

“Th-thank you.” Casey stutters as she accepts the glass.

“You’re welcome.” Ethan smiles kindly taking a gulp of water from his own glass.

They sat in silence for a while, the energy awkward and weird as they looked to anywhere in the room but each other.

“So-”

They both started at the same time, chuckling nervously as they cut each other off.

“Sorry, I- You go first.” Casey blushes.

“I was just going to ask you if you would like me to show you to your room?”

“Um. Yeah, I’d… That would be nice. Thank you.” Casey smiled as they rose to their feet.

Ethan led Casey to one of his spare bedrooms, wheeling two of her cases with him. As they entered, Casey’s jaw dropped. She looked around at the homely yet clean decor that inhabited the room; Ethan chuckling as he noticed her expression.

“Impressed?” he asked with a bemused smirk.

“Uh.. no. I just… wasn’t expecting something with such a homely feeling for a guest room.”

Ethan nods understandingly at her honest answer. “Most people don’t. And by most people… I mean about 45% of the 37 people I’ve had stay the night, before you. You’re now the 38th person I’ve allowed to stay here.”

Casey chuckles as she sits on the edge of the bed. “That’s so you.”

“What is?”

“Focusing on the statistics of reviews from people you invite or allow to stay here.”

“Oh? Analysing me now are we, Miss Valentine?” Ethan asks as he sits beside her

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Casey scoffs, gently shoving his arm with a shake of her head

“Me? Ridiculous? Now where would you have come up with that idea?”

“You literally lost all sense of rational thought and invited me to visit you at work the other day for a quick hook up before our date later that same night. You cleared your desk and readied protection in an easily accessible place. No man with a ration or logical, over-ticking mind… does that.”

“So what I’m hearing here is that… I’m not like these other men who are douchebags and expect the women to take care of the protection they should carry. Which in turn makes me a unique and rare find. Some, any woman who is willing to do irrational and illogical things when it comes to quelling the fire in her loins, would date.”

Casey looked at him with a goofy yet bemused smile of her face before they both burst out into laughter, falling back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as the sound died down. After a while Ethan pulled himself up, Casey copying his action.

“I should let you sleep, and get to bed myself. I… have an early shift tomorrow.” Ethan says clearing his throat.

“Yeah, sure.” Casey nods, “Um… goodnight.” she smiles as she follows him to the door. “And thanks again, for letting me crash here. It… means more than I’ll ever be able to explain.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” he soothes, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and rubbing slightly. “I will admit that it’s a new thing having the woman I’m sort of dating staying in my apartment for a prolonged period of time. But, it’s going to keep you safe. That’s what I care about.”

Casey’s eyes shine with tears as his kind words sink in and Ethan pulls her into his chest, rubbing her back soothingly as he feels some of the tears soak into his shirt. After a moment they pull away from each other, Casey swiping the remaining tears from her cheeks with a small chuckle.

“Goodnight Casey, sweet dreams.” He smiles softly, cupping her cheek; wiping away the last stray tear.

Casey places her and over his, returning the smile. “Goodnight, Ethan.” she whispers back as Ethan plants a soft kiss on her forehead before wordlessly leaving the room with one last smile.

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

The next two days passed by peacefully of Ethan and Casey falling into a new routine Ethan would wake up for his early shifts and leave breakfast for Casey to heat up when she woke up, they would meet up for lunch at Derry Roasters and then Casey would cook a nice meal for when Ethan got home. After that they would settle together and play a board game, listen to an audio book together or Ethan would binge true crime videos with Casey until it was time for them to head to bed. The morning after she moved out of her parents house for her temporary stay at Ethan’s, Casey had contemplated not turning on her tablet or laptop and being present for work, but then she remembered; she’s not THAT petty. So she took a shower, got ready for work, conversed with Ethan a place in his apartment she could use as her work space during the daytime, and that’s how things had been going.

Smoothly.

And for Casey that brought a sense of comfort and calm she hadn’t felt for a long while, it’s also what she was currently zoned out pondering on as Ethan spoke to her about ideas for dinner.

“... or we could go down the route of- Casey… Case?” Ethan asked, poking at her arm gently. “Hello? Earth to Casey.” he spoke louder waving his hand in her face.

Casey blinked a few times before looking to Ethan, letting her eyes adjust to his face. “I’m… sorry. What were you saying?” she asks flushing a bright rosy pink.

“I was making suggestions for dinner tonight. Maybe a pasta dish, something like spaghetti and meatballs, or ravioli. I was then suggesting we could take the lazy route tonight and just order something in.” Ethan responds.

“I can do spaghetti and meatballs. No problem.” Casey smiles brightly, taking a sip of her coffee before her face drops when her attention is draw to the door as the bell tinkles. “Oh no.” Casey whispers before ducking behind Ethan.

“Casey? What are you doing?” Ethan whispers.

“It’s him. THAT’S Bryce Lahela. The one I have an arranged marriage with. Just… act normal.” she whisperer yells back remaining in her spot.

Ethan watches from the corner of his eye as Bryce orders a coffee and then looks around the cafe, his eyes stopping on Ethan and a smirk sliding onto his face before he siddles over to the table.

“Ethan Ramsey.” he states.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan says after a moment, looking up from the newspaper in front of him. “Do I know you?”

“No.” Bryce says nonchalantly “You don’t. But I sure as heck know you.”

“Obviously. You addressed me by name.”

“OOOO. You’re as stiff as your reputation perceives you to be.”

Ethan shakes his head indifferely. “No… I don’t think I am. I just... don’t go looking to cause trouble with random people as you seem to be doing.”

“Oh, don’t act dumb Ramsey. You know why I’m here.”

“Enlighten me.” Ethan chuckles as he sits back in his chair.

“Where is she? Where’s Casey.” he demands

“The family sent you to do their dirty work have they?” Ethan retorts, clearly unimpressed.

“She’s my fiancé and she should be at home with her parents where she belongs. Not wherever you’re holding her against her will.”

Ethan laughs in his face at the weak veiled threat before looking Bryce in the eyes with a bitter coldness.

“Listen here, twerp. Casey is not being held anywhere against her will, where she is, she’s there because she feels safer than at home where she could be abused in any way, at any moment, by anyone. Now if you have a problem with that, take it up with the police. But if I were you my friend, I’d keep in mind they organised this whole thing.”

Bryce stares Ethan down for a couple of minutes before his name is called out, with a slight aggressive grunt he turns on his heel, collecting his coffee and then leaving the store.

After about 5 minutes, Casey pokes her head out. “Is it safe?” she whispers to Ethan, who looks around and then nods. She crawls out from behind him and then sits back in her chair. “Sorry about him.” she smiles shyly.

“It’s okay.” Ethan says shaking his head lightly with a soft smile. “Don’t apologise for him. Ever.”

“O-okay.” she nods, finishing her now cold coffee before closing her salad pot and placing her phone on top as Ethan left the table ordering two to-go coffee’s. As they stepped outside, Ethan turned to Casey. “Let me drive you back, just incase there’s any unwanted visitors around.”

“I- That would be great, thanks.” Casey smiles as they head over to Ethan’s car.

After dropping Casey back at his apartment safely, Ethan headed back to work; groaning as he entered the lobby hearing a familiar voice shouting in the main lobby.

“Well he works here doesn’t he?! So why can’t I see him!”

Gripping the handle of his briefcase Ethan straightened his spine and walked past the commotion only to have to do an eye roll before slipping into professional mode as her turns too address the shouts

“There he is! Oi, Ramsey!”

“Bryce Lahela. Or should I say… Daddy’s trust fund baby?”

“Ouch. That one hurt. You’ve done your research I see.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Ethan snorts, “I was on a call with Casey for our entire conversation. Just so you know, you’ve pushed her further away.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“And what reason would I have to do that?”

“You’ve been on dates with her. You want to keep her all to yourself.”

“How are you so deluded?”

“I’m the deluded one? That’s rich coming from you.”

Ethan laughs a little. “As thrilling as it would be to put you in your place where you belong… I am going to be the bigger person here and ask you to leave before I have to call security.”

“Aw, don’t want to lose your little job as a doctor because you’ll no longer be able to impress Casey?”

“Actually, no. I don’t want to lose my job because I enjoy it. As for impressing Casey, I have more than one way to impress her. Whereas you…” he trails off looking bryce up and down with a scoff of disgust. “You have none.”

The air around them tensed as nurses and fellow doctors within earshot alike stopped as they heard Ethan’s words. Bryce stood opposite Ethan his confidence wavering as more time ticked by with him saying nothing back.

“Yeah… Well she probably fakes it anyway.” Bryce spat in a panic before stomping out of the main doors.

Ethan chuckled as he watched Bryce go, clearly flustered that Ethan had been able to render him speechless.

Later that evening Ethan arrived home to the aroma of garlic, tomatoes and pasta wafting through his apartment. “That smell is divine.” he smiles as he enters the kitchen to the sight of Casey dishing up two plates of food.

“Thanks.” she smiles up to him before placing some garlic bread into a basket. “Dinner will be served out on the balcony tonight, if you would be so kind as to go and take your seat, kind sir.”

“Well this is certainly new.” Ethan chuckles. “I never thought I'd see the day where my apartment turns into a personal restaurant.”

Casey giggles. “Just go and wash your hands, then head outside.”

Ethan salutes her and heads off to do exactly that. By the time he’s comfortably seated, Casey heads in his direction with a tray of drinks. “One scotch with water not ice?”

“Oh, thank you.” Ethan smiles as Casey sets the glass in front of him.

Casey smiles as she sets the glass of wine in her own spot. “Your food will be with you shortly.” she smiles with a nod and slight bow before turning and heading back inside, only to reappear moments later carrying the same tray now adorning their food. She places it carefully on the table before placing the tray inside on the coffee table, returning to take her seat.

Ethan smiles at her as she takes a sip of her wine.

“What?” she blushes, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear.

Ethan smiles at her for a minute longer before shaking his head. “Nothing. I’ve just never felt so free and unjudged around someone before. Nor have I felt so loved by someone other than my dad.”

“Oh? What about… what about your mom?” Casey asks hesitantly.

“I… We don’t discuss her.” Ethan replies, voice turning cold as he looks to the horizon.

“Oh… Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay to ask questions, Casey.” Ethan says warmly as he turns back to Casey. “I just prefer not to talk about her.”

“That’s fine too.” Casey smiles. “We can talk about other things. Like… how was the rest of your day?” she asks.

Ethan gives an amused smirk as he launches into telling her about Bryce and their exchange, Casey’s eyes widening and her cheeks flushing red as he mentions the part about what he has that can impress her. Talk then turn back to their work days and how that went for them as they eat on the balcony with the Boston sunset as the perfect backdrop, laughing well into the night.

=================

[mockingjayne12]

Take Me Home

(Jamie x Claire / Outlander Fic)

CHAPTER ONE:

Toes wiggle further underneath the blanket, chipped black varnish sinking her deeper into the darkness she sits in.  Pale freckles against even paler skin, hip bones jutting out through the sliver of space exposed in the stolen, oversized shirt she drowns in.  Half truths burn on her lips, screaming loudly in the settled wine at the bottom of her stomach.  Bound coffee stained words rest in her lap, speaking to a universal yearning for something she can’t utter but felt she’d grasped once before, fleetingly slipping through her gold ringed fingers.  Grown out, curly, dark fringe lays a veil over pools of blue, blearily leaving an image of what once was, the swirling memory of regret that continues to grow.

“You are my home,” she’d whispered to him, tears having threatened to mix with the beauty disguised as chaos, a breath away from ending them both.

For somewhere, once, she thought she had been truly seen, but found she was soon forgotten.

xxxxx

ONE YEAR EARLIER

Claire sets the plate back down, blowing her curly tendrils away from her forehead, an exasperated sigh escaping along with her patience with this day.

“What’s wrong this time?” She hears Rupert ask, bending to see her through the metal of soon to be waiting dishes, the heat lamp setting off a warmth that only leaves her feeling sweaty, her curls threatening to throw a tantrum along with the customers.

“They want the inside of the bread taken out…’too many calories’,” she says, momentarily ditching her English accent to put on her best impersonation of what she knew to be the typical toned voice that frequented the establishment, with a roll of her eyes, letting Rupert know she thought it was just as ridiculous as the raised eyebrows staring back at her.

She doesn’t miss his murmuring curse, and fights back a laugh - Rupert being one of the few friendly faces that has been around as long as she, working the trenches of customer service day in, day out.

Turning to wait for the remade food, she rests against the counter.  It’s a relatively slow day at the restaurant, the lunch crowd having subsided, only the few stragglers, straddling a meal at a time of day that made little sense, but allowing her more time to make a mental list of things she needed to do when she got off.  At the top of the list, stop and get cat food before Adso decided to lay claws to the walls in protest of his lack of sustenance.  

“I just had a guy tell me he wished I had more Daddy issues so I’d work at a strip club,” Claire’s coworker, Gillian, says with a flourish of her hands.

Claire makes a grimace, her face scrunching up in disgust.

“Not even the worst thing I’ve heard this week,” Gillian says with a shrug, blowing off the comment along with all the others that were meant to go in one ear and out the other, an endless cycle of demeaning words thrown at them, expected to be swallowed with a smile all in the name of “customer service.”

Claire traces the silver line indented on her hand, as the plate of remade food makes its appearance once more, ready to be served.

“Thanks, Rupert,” she tosses over her shoulder at the grisly man, Gillian staying behind, waiting for her.

“So are you doing the catering job tonight,” Gillian throws back at her, as Claire comes back to the cutlery station, meticulously folding forks and knives into linen napkins.

“I don’t think so,” she shrugs, blowing her fringe out of her face once more.  An errant curl refusing to submit to her frustration, dangling over her eyes, bouncing with the movement of her head.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Gillian hits Claire’s hip with her side, their heights significantly varied.   A raised brow and a quirk of her mouth suggesting there was no way that this party would be fun in the slightest.

“A bunch of rich, entitled people…” Claire starts, only to be interrupted.

“Eating out of the palms of our hands…literally,” Gillian says with a wink.

“I hope not literally,” Claire teases, sticking out her flat tongue.

“Think of the extra money…and you know, if you happen to meet a rich guy that can give you a good fuck,” she says a bit louder than intended, a customer looking up from their meal.

Claire shoots a knowing glance at her friend.  

Flashing a smile at the appalled woman, Gillian throws her head back.

“I’m gonna pay for that one,” she says with a shake of her head.  “See, now we have to pick it up, because I’m not getting a tip from that prude,” she gestures towards the woman.

“She’s your table, not mine,” Claire says with a smirk.  “I’m going to pass,” she says, putting the linen bundles into their bin.  “I’ve got a new book and I…don’t do actors,” she says with a huff.

“Come on, I’ll drive, it’ll be…”

“If you say, ‘fun’ I’m definitely not doing it,” Claire warns.

“Fine, it’ll be…monetarily beneficial,” she grins.

xxxxx

The flutes of champagne balance precariously on the serving tray Claire carries with her, her hands attempting not to shake enough that she send the gold liquid onto anyone, but as she scans the room of men who think they hold more power than they do, congratulating themselves on being masters of their craft,women lapping up the chance to be in their presence, she can’t help but picture a slip of the hand that’s not so accidental.

Glancing back, she sees the event coordinator motioning for her to smile, and she turns back, her eyes threatening to roll all the way back into her head.

It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re wearing this uniform, you’re invisible, Beauchamp.

The thought echoing a sentiment that had taken root in her for some time, yanking on a thread that could potentially unravel her ever so carefully constructed shield, whose protection she’d shrouded herself in before facing the day, for without it would leave her bare to the thoughts that would surely leave her with nothing but the ugly truth.

Her finger rubs at her hand, her eyes darting around at the extravagant decor of flowers and crystal jewels, only the biggest and best for, whoever this celebration was for.  Another Hollywood party that mattered very little, a host of people begging for the attention that would make a connection, garner them a return for the years of hustle they’d put in.  Exhausting.  The smiles on their faces were likely as fake as the one she now had plastered to her own face, looking more like a grimace than anything close to resembling happiness, as she offered up more alcohol to people that surely didn’t need anymore courage to make bad decisions.

“Whiskey on the rocks, sweetheart,” she hears behind her, turning around to find a balding man with a graying beard and a sinister grin on his face, suggesting he was a man who always got what he wanted, and as his eyes did a slow once over her, catching on the open button of her shirt,  she finds herself wanting to shrink into herself, her hand running over her palm, the bloom of panic tingling, before rising to her full height, which isn’t much shorter than this man, biting her tongue at the urge to tell him to go fuck himself.

“Right away,” she says with a grit of her teeth, quickly turning to head to the bar to grab the request.  Giving the bartender the order, the woman looks as irritated as the rest of them, but throws a knowing grin her way.

“Fucking Americans and their ice,” she mutters under her breath.

“Careful, Sassenach, they might hear ye,” the soft bur of an accent sends a jolt through her, causing her to hit the tray, sending the remaining few glasses of champagne everywhere.  The shattering of glass attracting the attention of the guests only briefly, a stray comment thrown out about clumsy help hitting its target, before they go back to ignoring her.

“Fuck,” she says under her breath.

Turning quickly, she fumbles to pick up the broken glass, a rise of red lighting her cheeks on fire, incensed with anger and frustration.

Reaching for a piece of glass, she sees the tray in question appear before her, an offering to gather the mess she’d created.  Looking up, she sees the man with the voice that had sent her reeling, a mop of curly red hair, looking like it had been attempted to be tamed, but had given up and decided instead to hang in perfect disarray.

“You don’t have to—“ she tries to get out, but he’s already gathered most of the remaining bits of glass onto the tray, peeking at her through his curls she sees a glimpse of blue that seem to pierce her, a flicker of something close to recognition passes through the sea like a wave, gone just as quickly, paired with a grin of understanding bristled in a stubble that begs to prick her finger and break the spell that seems to surround them.

“It’s the least I can do, seeing as it’s my fault,” he shrugs, the grin only growing wider, as he lifts his head, his bent stance has the kilt he’s wearing rucked up to where the muscles in his legs tease her, and she quickly averts her eyes, catching the raise of his eyebrows at having seemingly caught her glance.

“You’re right, it is your fault,” she says, straightening to a stand, and he peers up at her for a second, making her shift nervously from foot to foot before he stands, her eyes catching the glint of a scar contouring his cheekbone in the light.  An imperfection that grounds him in reality.  She moves to push her hair back from her face, having a hard time reconciling what she must look like next to this man.

She hears his gruff laugh, and swears it vibrates through her chest.

“I uhh, didn’t get you, did I?” She asks, her flustered mind only kicking itself at the excuse to roam over the expanse of his chest, slightly soaked, she immediately turns to grab a napkin on the bar, moving to blot his shirt, pressing gently on his chest, only having it dawn on her that she’s touching him when his hand comes to gently grab her wrist.  Her breath momentarily stilted, his fingers warm on her pulse - simultaneously skittering her heart to beat faster while leaving her with a sense of peace, like being held too close to the sun, a tranquil warmth threatening to burst her into flames, she pulls back on reflex, and he lets go, freeing her, instead of keeping hold.

“’Tis alright, Sassenach, a wee bit of spilled alcohol never hurt anyone,” the breath of his words washing over her, and she steps back with the napkin.  Her nose scrunching at the derogatory word he kept using like it was an endearment.  His smile rises at her blowing a stray curl out of her face.  “Especially when it’s champagne, “ he playfully grimaces, clearly not a fan of the bubbly.

“Too true,” she shrugs, turning to grab the whiskey she’d all but forgotten in her haste to completely drown this charming man in her work.  Her usual response to flee begins to rise in her - the calm she’d felt in his presence shifting, as the man whose whiskey she held approached the makeshift stage with a microphone.  “Ugh, here we go,” she rolls her eyes.

“Not a fan?” He asks, looking amused by her clear disdain.

“The only thing worse than actors are the people in charge of them,” she says, before catching the eye of Gillian, a curious smirk on her face, making her way towards Claire.  “Anyway, I hope I didn’t keep you from…whatever it is you’re doing here,” she looks down at his kilt again.  “Are you the entertainment?”

His eyes widen at the suggestion before biting back a laugh.  

“Something like that,” he says with what she swears is a twinkle in his eye.

“And now help me in introducing the reason we’re all here, actor James Fraser…”

The applause of the entire party seems to grow exponentially around her.  Glancing around, she tries to find where the man in question is hiding, until she feels the words whispered in her ear.

“At least I’m not the worst…”

The curly mop of red making his way towards the stage, shirt soaked, kilt  swaying with every step, and a smile that keeps glancing back at her.

Bloody Hell, Beauchamp.

[avengerscompound]

My Wife

My Wife: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2812

Rating:  E

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ - Free Space, @happystevebingo​ - Wedding

Warnings:  Mentions of Pregnancy, Smut (M|F, oral sex, vaginal sex), there is the mention of daddy kink in this, but not actual daddy kink.  More like them saying it exists.

Synopsis:  It’s your wedding and Steve is completely and utterly delighted.

My Wife

You stood just out of view of the garden, while your bridesmaids fussed around you.  They tugged on the lace of your dress trying to get it to fall just right.  They adjusted the pins in your hair so your veil fell over your face and didn’t ruin your pull any stray strands out of place.  Pepper and Laura tried to keep Morgan and Nathaniel under control.  Morgan wore white with a bright yellow sash and Pepper was trying to get her to take the basket of flower petals when what she really wanted was to take the little stuffed bear of Nathaniel that had your wedding bands tied to it.

“You look beautiful,” Laura said as Nate swung off her arm.  That dress is stunning.  Vintage was such a good choice.

Your bridesmaid handed you your bouquet of sunflowers and daisies.  Steve had shown up with sunflowers on your first date and had never once given you a typical romantic bouquet.  Rather going for bright flowers that lit up a room.  He said they reminded him of you.  “Thank you.”  You said.  “And thank you again for letting us borrow, Nate.”

“Of course.  You can keep him if you like.”  She joked.

“Mommy!”  Nathaniel whined and you and Pepper both started laughing.

“Shall we do this?”  Your maid-of-honor asked.

“Ready when you are,”  You said taking a deep breath.

Pepper and Laura led the way with the children.  As you got closer you could hear the harp getting louder and louder.

The chatter of the crowd stopped and Pepper and Laura sent the kids down the aisle between the chairs in the garden.  The yellow and white petals that Morgan threw out contrasted against the pink petals that had been dropped from the trees in blossom that hung over the garden.

Your bridesmaids went next, walking one at a time toward the arch where Steve stood with Thor, Bucky, Sam, and Tony.

Your dad looked at you and smiled. “Are you ready?”

“For this?  I have been for a long time now.”  You said.

You stepped out into the aisle and the music changed, the harpist switching to ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’.  You walked down towards Steve and his face lit up and his hand went to his mouth.  Your heart was racing as you took each step, closer and closer to your husband-to-be.  Steve was wearing a black, double-breasted suit, with a light blue tight and a blue orchid in his lapel.  Next to him stood Bucky.  His suit the same color and cut but he wore a pale purple tie with lilacs in his lapel.  He’d had his hair cut and was clean-shaven.  You weren’t sure he’d ever seen him clean-shaven before.  Beside Bucky was Sam who’s had a red tie with a poppy in his buttonhole.  Finally, there was Tony.  He looked the most comfortable in his suit.  His tie was a dark purple and he had a hyacinth boutonniere.

As you got closer to Steve you noticed his eyes were pricked with tears but the smile he wore seemed stuck in place.  The happiness and love radiated off him like heat off a fire.   Your father pushed your veil back and kissed your cheek and you stepped up in front of Steve and took his hands.

Thor moved into position with a large smile on his face.  “Friends!”  He called out and a rumble of thunder filled the air.  “We are all here amidst all this nature to bear witness to the joining of these two people in marriage.  We are all small creatures in this vast universe.  To find such love is a blessing and they have asked you all to witness their bond today.”

He looked over at Natasha and beckoned her forward.  “Natasha is here to do a reading called ‘Marriage is not Beautiful.”

Natasha got up and took the microphone, clearing her voice and looking out at the group of friends and family who had come to share this day with you both.   “Marriage is ugly, you see the absolute worst in someone.”  She read.  “You see them when they’re mad, sad, being stubborn, when they’re so unlovable they make you scream.  But you also get to see them when they are laughing so hard that tears run down their face, and they can’t help but let out those weird gurgling noises.  You see them at 3am when the world is asleep except you two, and you’re eating in the middle of the kitchen floor.  You get to see the side of them that no one else does, and it’s not always pretty. It's snorting while laughing, it’s the tears when it feels like it’s all crashing down, it’s the farting, it’s the bedhead and bad breath, it’s the random dances, it’s the anger and the joy.  Marriage isn’t a beautiful thing, but it is amazing.  It’s knowing that someone loves you so much, and won’t leave you even though you said something nasty.  It’s having someone have your back no matter what.  It’s fights over stupid things, like someone not doing the dishes or picking up after themselves.  And it’s those nights you fall asleep in each other’s arms, feeling like there will never be enough time with them.  It’s cleaning up their vomit, or just rubbing their back when they’re sick.  It’s the dirtiest, hardest, most rewarding job there is.  Because at the end of the day you get to crawl into bed with your best friend, the weirdest, most annoying, loving, goofy, perfect person that you know.  Marriage is not beautiful, but it’s one heck of a ride.”

She took a seat to a round of soft applause and laughter and Thor stepped up again.  He brought out a cord of gold and began to bind your hands as you held Steve’s hands crossed over.

“Before you make your vows, I want to hear you each confirm that it is your intention to be married today.  Do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?”  Thor asked.

“I do,”  You and Steve spoke at once.

As Thor began to wind the cord around your hands you spoke.  “These are the hands of your best friend, young and strong and full of love for you, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as we promise to love each other today, tomorrow, and forever.”

Steve took over.  “These are the hands that will work alongside yours, as together we build our future.”

A crackle of electricity passed around the cord as Thor continued to wind it around your hands.  “These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch will comfort you like no other.”  You said.

Tears pricked Steve’s eyes as he spoke again.  “These are the hands that will hold you when fear or grief fills your mind.”

“These are the hand that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes; tears of sorrow, and tears of joy.”  You continued.

“These are the hands that will tenderly hold your children,”  Steve said, and you felt your own conviction break, as a stray tear escaped and ran down your cheek.

“These are the hands that will help you to hold your family as one.”

“These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it.”

There was a crackle and flash of lightning.  “And lastly; these are the hands that even when wrinkled and aged, will be reaching for yours, still giving you the same unspoken tenderness with just a touch.”  Thor finished.  “As your hands are bound together now, so your lives and spirits are joined in a union of love and trust.  This bond is not formed by these cords, but rather by the love you have for each other.  For always you hold in your own hands the fate of this union.  Above you are stars and below you is earth.  Like stars, your love should be a constant source of light, and like the earth, a firm foundation from which to grow.”

He unwound your hands and Bucky took the rings from the little stuffed bear and handed them to each of you.  “Your wedding rings are the outward visible sign of the inward invisible bond which unites your two souls in love.  The perfect circle of the ring symbolizes eternity. The precious metal came from the ground as a rough ore and was heated and purified, shaped and polished. Something beautiful was made from raw elements. Love is like that. It comes from humble beginnings, made by imperfect beings. It is the process of making something beautiful where there was once nothing at all.”  Thor said and turned to Steve.  “As you place the ring on her finger, repeat these words after me;”

As he next spoke Steve echoed his words as he slipped the ring on your finger. “I give you this ring.  Wear it in love and joy.  As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.”

Thor then turned to you.  “Place this ring on his finger and repeat these words after me;”

You did the same, slowly sliding the titanium band onto Steve’s ring finger as you looked into his eyes.  “I give you this ring.  Wear it with love and joy.  As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.”

“May the wedding rings you exchanged today remind you always that you are surrounded by an enduring love,”  Thor said.  “Friends, I invite you all to congratulate these two souls now they have been joined and they seal their vows with a kiss.”

Steve dipped you as you kissed, slowly and tenderly, to the applause of your loved ones.  For a moment there was no one else, just you and Steve, totally and helplessly in love as you kissed.

You signed the paperwork and posed for photos around the gardens as everyone else went inside for cocktails.  As you walked around hand in hand Steve stopped you and pulled you close to him.  “You look so beautiful.”  He whispered.

“You scrub up pretty nicely yourself, Rogers.”  You teased.

He chuckled and kissed you.  When he pulled back he looked into your eyes.  “How were you feeling today?  That bug still hanging around?”

“Yeah, still a bit sick.  I’m okay though.  Good, now we’re here.”  You answered.

“I didn’t think I’d get to have this.”  He said, leaning his forehead against yours.

“You get to have everything, Steve.  The whole happy ending.”  You assured him.  He kissed you again.  The buzz click of the photographers capturing the moment didn’t bother you one bit.

You were taken to a private room away from the rest of the guests so you could just have a moment together before being announced again to the reception.   Steve locked the door and smirked at you.

“Hello there, my wife.”  He teased, stalking toward you.

“Steve!”  You yelped.

“Yes, my love.”  He said, guiding you back to the couch.  He carefully smoothed out your skirt and pushed you so you were sitting down.  He dropped to his knees and lifted the many layers of skirt up.

“What’s gotten into you?”  You asked, a little shocked at how brazen he was being.

“I don’t know.  I just know I have to have you.”  He said and kissed the inside of your thigh.  “You’re my wife.”

“I am, but you’re going to go out there with my vagina all over your face.”  You teased.

Steve laughed.  A deep and genuine laugh.  “That’s okay.  It’s my wife’s vagina.  It’s allowed.”

You completely lost it laughing and he disappeared under your skirts.  You smoothed them down so the only thing visible was Steve’s legs poking out from under them.  He pushed your panties to the side and he began to lap slowly at your cunt, his tongue flat and using as much pressure as he could.  You let your head fall back with your eyes closed, moaning gently, and without even meaning to you pushed your hips up against his face.

He pushed two fingers inside you and with practiced ease, found your g-spot and began stroking it firmly with his fingertips.  As he did, he sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it.  You began to pant and you thrust your fist into your mouth to muffle your moans.  Heat swirled through you and your legs began to tremble.  “Steve, Steve.”  You murmured.  “I’m gonna come.”

He squeezed your thigh and moved his hand faster.  You jerked up under him and moaned, clenching your teeth as your orgasm shuddered through you.

Steve climbed out from under your skirt, panting heavily and climbed up onto the couch.  You leaned over and started kissing him hungrily as you unbuckled his pants.  When you pulled his cock free you stood up, gathered your skirts up and stepped over his lap.  He slid his hands up the insides of your legs as you lowered yourself down and shifted your panties to the side as he guided his cock inside of you.

You started to rock your hips against him and put your hands on his shoulders.  “You look so handsome in this suit, Steve.”

He smiled and kissed along your neck and down to your cleavage.  “You look so beautiful.  I thought I was going to cry.”  He said and then blushed a deep red.

“What dirty little thought passed through your head then, darling husband?”  You teased.

“Your breasts look amazing.  Bigger even.”  He chuckled.

You stifled a laugh.  “Oh, kiss me, you old flattered.”

He cupped your jaw with both hands and pulled you into a deep kiss.  You swiped your tongue over your lips, tasting yourself on him.  As you bounced in his lap you could feel an orgasm building but it wouldn’t quite break.  You increased your speed, bouncing harder and faster.

“Slow down, sweetheart,”  Steve whispered.

“I can’t… I need to…”

He gripped the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him.  His free hand went under your skirt, his fingers finding your clit and rolled over it.  “I’ve got you, my love.”  He breathed.  He started kissing your neck and gently nipping at your skin.  You slowed your pace and as you did your orgasm washed over you.

Steve pulled his hand away and wrapped his arms around you, pressing his body tightly against yours as he rested his head against your breasts.  He started to thrust in time with you and with a sudden jerk, he came.

You went to climb off of him but he held onto you and looked deep into your eyes.  “I am so glad we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.  I love you so much, my wife.”

You hummed and kissed him gently.  It was now or never.  “I love you too, daddy.”

Steve’s face screwed up in distaste.  “Is that a kink thing?”  He asked as he lifted you off his lap and began to clean himself up.  “Because if so, I am not a fan.”

You broke down into giggles.  “No.  It’s not.  Maybe that came out wrong.  Let’s try again.  You said; I love you so much, my…”

He looked at you confused as he zipped up his pants.  “Wife.”

“Which is accurate.  And then I said; I love you too, daddy.”  You said and placed his hand on your stomach.

His eyes went wide. “Sweetheart?”

“Yes?”

“You’re pregnant?”  He asked.  His eyes started to shimmer with tears that weren’t quite ready to break.

“I am.”

His fingers moved back and forth along your stomach.  “How long have you known?”

“I found out this morning.”

“Is that why you were sick?”

“It was.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment.  He stood and picked you up, spinning you around and holding you close.  “I’m going to be a dad?”

“You are.”  You agreed, laughing and hugging him.

“Sweetheart,”  He said, putting you back on your feet.  “This was already the happiest day of my life.  How did you just make it even better?”

You smiled and leaned up and kissed his cheek.  “I told you.  You get to have everything.”

He cradled your jaw and kissed you deeply.

There was a knock at the door and Steve reluctantly pulled back and opened the door.  Your wedding planner stood there with a clipboard.  “Are you ready?”  She asked.

“Yeah, we’re ready,”  Steve said, still smiling broadly.

She led you down the hall and had you wait at the doors to the Palm House.  A moment later you heard Thor on the microphone.  “Friends!”  He called.  “If you would all stand and welcome for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Steven Rogers.”

Steve smiled at you as the doors opened, and the two of you went in to celebrate your new lives together as a family.