#do you want to switch to a new thread since we’re going somewhere new?

[katherineofdawn]

Right, but first! The tunnel! Let’s go get you some flowers and supplies.

Ah, Pearl! It’s been a bit of a while- I was wondering if you’d like to keep working on the Dawnapearligo passage? Or, even just hang out, maybe? - @katherineofdawn

oh! hi, uh, yeah, sorry, it's been - kinda got distracted by all this. y'know, you guys had a headstart on building up your bases out here, i'm still playing a lot of catch-up, so... doesn't look like much from here, but it has taken me a while to build up to this point. and the organics are a whole different beast of their own! you ever tried to transplant this many bushes? that third island out there with the trees on it, that was sand before. it's been a lot.

so - yeah, sorry i didn't... come over, or anything. we can finish the tunnel, yeah! been a long time coming, right?

[thunder-at-dawn]

Echos In The Caverns

word count: 2,096

summary: while exploring, tubbo made an incredible discovery, and was desperate to show his best friend in grand-tubbo-fashion! however, that was just the one thing that led them to discover a large problem.

if you couldn’t tell, this fic was heavily inspired by the minecraft caves and cliffs update, i think it turned out nicely :D also if you tag this as ship i will personally hunt you down and whack you with my block button

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

Tubbo_: TOMMY

Tubbo_: TOMMY ARE YOU THERE

Tommyinnit: what

Tubbo_: wheree are u

Tommyinnit: i’m at my house

Tommyinnit: why

Tubbo_: can yoyou come to your hotel

Tubbo_: and wear clothes that you don’t mind getting dirty!!!!!

Tommyinnit: why??

Tubbo_: you’ll see!!!

…What?

Tommy always knew that Tubbo tended to be quite the… holder of schemes. Good schemes? Maybe. Bad schemes? Also maybe. It really just depended on the day. It wasn’t irregular of him to not say what his plans were either, the young boy was often one for surprises.

Tommy looked down at the clothes he was currently wearing. A red and white baseball shirt and some khakis, also known as what he wore pretty much everyday. He had plenty of other shirts and pants that looked similar, (if not, the exact same) so it would be fine if he got just one outfit a little wet.

The young boy headed out of his small residence, which wasn’t at all far from the hotel at all. He walked down the prime path, entering the gate and heading for the front of the hotel, only to see no one there.

“Tubbo? Where are ya, bee boy?” He mumbled under his breath, looking for his best friend. He wandered around to the back… maybe he was there?

And there he was.

Tubbo had his back turned, placing a line of redstone dust along the ground. He stood up, wiping the dust off of his hands, then turned around with a grin.

“Tommy!!” He ran over to his best friend, engulfing the other in a tight hug.

“Tubbo! You’re gonna get fuckin’ redstone dust all over me.” He grumbled, though a smile was on his face. He could feel Tubbo take his hands, guiding him over and walking the two of them next to a lever that wasn’t there the last time Tommy was here.

“Okay, so earlier, I decided to dig straight down, right at this spot.”

“Idiot.” Tommy poked fun at his best friend.

“I thought it would be a bad idea too, but let me finish. Anyways, I just wanted to do it because, y’know, I wanted to see where it would take me! And man, I discovered something incredible, Tommy.” Tubbo turned around leaning down a flipping the switch of the lever.

“So that’s what you’re going to be showing me, right?” Tommy crossed his arms.

“Mhm!” The older of the two stood back up, looking at Tommy with excitement in his eyes. “Just be sure to be prepared for the drop!”

“…The drop? Wh-”

Before Tommy could finish, he heard the sound of pistons and felt the ground disappear underneath him. Before he knew it, the two of them were falling. It was pitch black, and the two of them were falling and screaming. They let out two different screams, Tubbo’s out of thrill and adrenaline and Tommy’s out of pure fear.

It took about ten seconds of falling and screaming for them to finally see light, but Tommy was too terrified to open his eyes. Instead, he was met with the chilling feeling of cold water. Panicked, he opened his eyes as much as he could and swam to the surface, gasping for air.

“TUBBO! WHAT THE FUCK?!” He yelled at the other, who had also risen from the surface. “What the fuck was that for?! You can’t just make us drop like that with no warning, I thought we were gonna die! I-“

“Oh, quit whining and swim to the shore!” Tubbo brushed him off. Tommy huffed, but obeyed, throwing his arms in front of him to propel him forward. Tubbo got to the shore first, and pulled him out of the water.

“Tubbo, why the fuck did you think that was a good idea?!”

“Tommy- Tommy, calm down. One, I would never kill you on purpose. And two, this was the easiest and quickest way down! Anyways, look behind you. Turn around.” Tubbo said to him. Tommy rolled his eyes and turned, expecting nothing grand, but his eyes widened in shock.

It was the most incredible thing he had ever seen.

A roaring waterfall poured water into the lake they had just dropped into, and sides of the waterfall were lined with purple gemstones. Ores lined the stone walls and lush moss covered the ceiling, draping down. Small, jagged rocks on the ceiling were covered by moss, and it looked like someone, likely Tubbo, had placed torches and lanterns around the area.

“What… What is this?” Tommy asked, jaw agape.

“What you’re looking at is the coolest cave the two of us will ever lay eyes upon.” Tubbo grinned, placing a hand on Tommy’s wet shoulder.

“…Holy shit, Tubbo! This is fucking incredible! A-And you found this just through digging down?!”

“Yep! Now come on, there’s tons of cool things here that you gotta see!” The ram hybrid grabbed Tommy’s hand, running around the lake and dragging him along.

Tommy honestly wasn’t sure if he had ever seen anything this amazing before. He got to climb hills of stone and ore, swim in the grand lake, and he and Tubbo even found an axolotl! They took it in a bucket with water, and since it was pink, they agreed on the name of “Technoblade Jr.”

Eventually though, all good things had to come to an end. The torches wouldn’t fend off monsters forever, so the two of them decided it was best to go back to the surface. Tubbo said that he had dug out a staircase through the stone that led to the surface, somewhere near Eret’s castle.

There was only one small problem. They couldn’t find it.

“I-It should be this way!”

“Tubbo, we’ve been down here for, like- for fuckin’ ever!”

“Okay, we’ve been here for a few hours at the most. And majority of that isn’t even us searching for the stairs.” Tubbo rolled his eyes.

Tommy sighed as he and Tubbo only found another dead end, a wall covered in vines and moss. “Face it, Tubbo. We’re lost. We’re fuckin’ lost, and we’re going to have to spend the night here.” He set a torch on the wall, taking a moment to sit down.

“Oh, don’t say that, Tommy!” His friend sat down next to him on the ground. Tommy crossed his arms, looking away and making Tubbo frown. “Look, we can always make a new staircase! It’ll take a while, but we can do it!” He nudged Tommy lightly with his elbow, but only got more of the silent treatment.

Tubbo huffed in annoyance. Tommy tended to get silent when things didn’t go his way, which was understandable. But it would get frustrating to Tubbo sometimes, he wouldn’t lie. And what’s worse was that he could clearly tell that Tommy was upset, and he wasn’t saying anything about it. He lightly leaned against Tommy’s shoulder, the silence being oddly comforting for a moment.

Tubbo stood up, leaving Tommy to mope by himself. He had to admit, this was a cool place to be lost in. The sights were incredible, and there were so many things he hadn’t found in caves before. Glowing squids, axolotls, crystals, cave vines…

Cave vines.

That’s it! He knew exactly what would cheer Tommy up! Why didn’t he think of this sooner?

Tubbo walked towards the longest vine he could find that draped from the stone ceiling, standing on his toes to pull it down and grinning as the vine snapped in two. He threaded the vine through his fingers, glad to find that it wasn’t rough and didn’t have anything sharp on it. He sat down next to Tommy, holding the vine in his hands.

“Tommy…” He leaned towards his friend, still not getting a response. Quietly, he draped the vine around Tommy’s neck. The other noticed, but said nothing. That is, not until his shoulders scrunched up when he felt Tubbo pull the vine across his neck.

“Tubbo-” He said softly, slamming his lips shut afterwards.

“What’s up, Tommy?” He asked, lightly scratching the other’s neck with his fingers.

“Where’s that smile, big man?” Tubbo used his other hand to poke his friend in the side a couple of times, grinning as he saw a smile start to form at the corner of Tommy’s lips.

“Tuhubbo, quihit it!” He giggled, starting to move away before Tubbo wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, trapping him in a half-hug.

“There we go!” Tubbo scribbled his fingers across Tommy’s stomach, making the young boy squeal and bury his head into Tubbo’s shoulder as an attempt to hide his face. Tommy laughed, trying to grab at Tubbo’s hands.

“Don’t even try to fight back, mister.” He rolled his eyes. “I wanna make sure that you keep smiling! These caves are no place to be sad!”

“TuHUHUB- *snrk* TUHUBBO! Dohohon’t!” Tommy snorted, eventually grabbing onto one of Tubbo’s wrists. Tubbo brought his other hand back to drill his fingers back into Tommy’s stomach, the other laughing and eventually grabbing onto Tubbo’s other wrist. Both of them grinned as residual laughter spilled out of Tommy’s mouth.

“You’re so fuckin’ mean.” Tommy huffed out, unable to fight a grin.

“Oh, come on, you were sad! What else am I supposed to do, not what I do whenever you’re sad?” Tubbo rolled his eyes, smirking. “Besides, you didn’t fight back. We know you liked it.”

Tommy blinked, feeling his cheeks warm up, then narrowed his eyes. “Oh, you’re asking for it.” He growled, holding the other’s hands above his head.

Tubbo squeaked, already starting to squirm. “Wahait, no! Nonono, dohon’t!” He said, unable to stop giggles from coming out from hiding.

“Aww, what’s wrong, Tubbo? Are you scared? Scared of just a little tiny bit of tickling?” Tommy smirked, holding his wrists firmly and letting go, shooting his hands into his friend’s underarms. Tubbo immediately broke, instantly leaning towards the ground to try and get away.

“NoHOHO- gehehehet oHOHOut of thehehere!” Tubbo giggled, twisting his body to try and push off Tommy’s hands.

“You did the exact same to me! It’s only natural to expect revenge!” Tommy scribbled more rapidly, grinning as the other squealed and started to kick his legs. “Wow, Tubbo. Sometimes, I honestly forget how fuckin’ ticklish you are. And then I rediscover it for myself, and I remember just how ballistic you go every time!”

“ShUHUT UHUhup, yohou dihiHIhick!” The ram hybrid yelled through giggles.

“Hey! Well that’s just rude now, isn’t it? Guess you need to learn a lesson, huh?” Tommy asked, chuckling as Tubbo rapidly shook his head. Tommy started to squeeze up and down his thighs, and the other squealed, throwing his head back and hugging himself.

“TOHOhoHOmMY!! NohohoHOHO!!”

“Oh, you brought this onto yourself, don’t even try to “Tommy, no” me!” Tommy played around, trying to see what would work back. Squeezing the back of Tubbo’s thighs made him squeak, squeezing rapidly up and down made him squeal, and raking nails up and down the inner thighs made him cackle.

“TOHOHOMMY!! PleheHEAHase, I- StohoHOhop!!” Tubbo rocked back and forth.

“Hmmm… alright.” Tommy said after a moment of thinking, drawing his hands back.

“Wahait, really?” A giggly Tubbo was quite surprised, starting to sit up.

“…No.” Tommy smirked, suddenly pushing the other’s shirt up, leaning down, and blowing a raspberry on his bare stomach. Tubbo shrieked, retreating back to the ground instantaneously.

“NOHOHOHO- AHAHAHAHA!!! TOHOHOHOMMEHEY!!!” Tubbo squirmed around, trying to get away as Tommy now scribbled and clawed as his stomach with all ten fingers. His laughter echoed throughout the caves, filling Tommy with glee.

“Come on, you deserve this for all of the times you got back at me!” His friend grinned, leaning down to blow another raspberry right onto Tubbo’s belly button. The ram’s laughter went silent momentarily, then came back in the form of cackles with hiccups mixed in. Tommy stopped, laughing softly and ruffling Tubbo’s hair.

“You feeling better, big man?” Tubbo asked with a stupidly large grin on his face.

“Much better.” Tommy grinned, standing up and extending a hand towards his friend, helping him off of the ground. “Now, come on, grab your pickaxe. That staircase isn’t gonna build itself now, innit?”

Tubbo nodded, pulling out a pickaxe and starting to help Tommy dig out a path to the surface. He looked behind him one last time, deciding that he needed to come back here again sometime with Tommy, and maybe some other friends.

After all, it’s good to go back to places that bring you happy memories, right?

[heli0s-writes]

pagan poetry*

A/N: Hey-o! After nearly 3 months of being a complete disaster, I ... did a thing. Very much my usual brand of filth. Thanks for sticking around as I continue to navigate this impending sense of oblivion!! 1.6k words of bangin’ Bucky Barnes. Yeeeeeeahhh.

Title is from this song, by Bjork. 🖤

Warnings: Smutty smut and heathen shit, what else is new with Helios?

brooklyn after dark masterlist

Steve asked if you were religious once.

It was an off the cuff kind of question, prompted by something you can’t remember now—silly banter over drinks and a background party, perhaps. Both grown weary of entertaining a crowd of strangers, etiquette spent nearing the night’s end. You’d shrugged lazily and prefaced that it’s hard to shake an entire childhood of indoctrination but now, by resolute choice, you aren’t.

You lied. You’ve never been more devout.

It was easier than getting into all the semantics, anyway. Where would you start explaining that you now spend more time than ever at worship? Not in the middle of Tony’s so-called “small” get-together of “only” seventy-five people. Certainly not a place to admit to Steve that your knees supplicate more earnestly than the most pious of priests, your throat constantly pouring the sweetest profession of faith—the name of the most divine.

Even if the two of you were somewhere more private, and he was at least half as drunk as you were, it’s a bit blasphemous, Steve, that you fuck Bucky six ways to Sunday and call it religion.

It’s a hard desire to curb when he looks like that. Bucky’s built like a god— his arm the kind of weapon you’d happily split your tongue polishing. Strong, powerful legs. Broad shoulders like lovingly carved marble, worked between the hands of a Renaissance master, tapered sharply down to his wasp’s waist.

His hips. Lord, you could dedicate eternity naming every last inch of his hips.

Such a pretty boy. How he makes you hungry to sin.

“Bucky,” you whisper, enthralled again when he steps out from a quick shower. Smoldering and glorious, and you’re Joan of Arc constantly being descended upon by a burning archangel. Some random night, like any other night, and you’re overtaken again. Hazy with orange glow, the billowing mist makes a halo to crown him and for a second you feel blind.

Then, you feel… hm.

Wet.

He cautions the way you chew on your lip, eyes twinkling brightly because what else is new. You? Turned on? Bucky could be brushing his teeth and you’d start climbing him like your personal jungle gym.

“Sweetheart,” he begins warily, adjusting the towel on his hips—those beautiful, beautiful hips. “One more dinner with us swinging in late and they’re gonna stop inviting us.”

You nod along dumbly, deaf now and set on a singular mission. Crawling on your knees, you reach Bucky halfway as he tries to put an end to your pilgrimage. Tries because your palms are fast over the damp fabric, fingers threading through warm fibers before landing flat against his abs, feeling up to his chest, murmuring stupidly, always so shocked at his everything. You graze up his wrists, his forearms, making paths of taut muscle.

“How bout after dinner?” His thumbs gently brush the swell of your breasts before he holds you back, straightening your spine when you arch into him. “Promise I’ll give it to you good later.”

“Give it to me now?”

He laughs. “You really gotta work on your negotiation skills…”

“Huh… Lemme try again: give it to me… right now?”

Bucky groans in equal measures of exasperation and exhilaration when you fall back on your knees. A few more half-hearted baby, quit it, ‘m serious, and then he gives up completely.

“Steve’s gonna get himself in a mood.”

“Steve’s always in a mood.”

Wilted protests quickly disappear into the hollow of your cheeks, licked away by your clever tongue. He grips the back of your neck firmly, tilting your head the way he likes best, eyes flicking down to meet yours before they close. He keeps you there a little longer, his toes curling into the carpet with each bob of your head.

“Yeah, you’re—always in a mood, too—uhhm—“

And you hum in agreeance, but the sound only vibrates into his skin, making him groan louder.

Bucky’s voice is slurred, as if half drunk. “Can’t hear— mm— you, sweetheart…”

So you make something up to give him what he wants, that buzzing of your throat on his cock, and his thighs tighten in response, the hand on the back of your neck reflexively scrabbling to your shoulder with a hard grip.

It’s a bit counterproductive of you to be so sloppy, considering that Bucky’s freshly showered and cleaned up— the scent of his brisk body wash strong and harsh in your nose— but fucking him like it’s your job allows some insight to what he likes, and it’s easily this:

Dirty, filthy, drooling wet blowjobs. The messier the better and the faster it gets him there. Your radiant Right Hand of God, but goddamn is he a little devil himself.

Bucky’s growling by the time he hauls you toward the bed, depositing your thrilled skin on the mattress firmly. Red lips meet yours with force, plush and full, nipping at the corners of your wet mouth like he’s kissing back every trace of him. He presses on across your jaw, up and down your neck. His voice is husky sweet and breathy in your ear.

“You bad, bad girl.” And you start curling yourself into him, nodding for more. One of his hands is working himself, the sound of your spit slippery in his fist. “You got me all messy again.”

Your skin feels blistering and freezing at the same time, chills racing to your fingertips tightly hooked around his biceps. The outfit you put on for a nice, quaint dinner at Steve and Sharon’s too heavy now, too constricting, but he doesn’t let you take it off.

“Every morning and night not enough dick for you, is it?” Bucky brushes your hands away, taking hold of your chin and peeling your head back until you’re looking at him. His pupils are blown wide, the only thing left of his irises are two thin rings of barely there blue as he scans your face. Your brain is short-circuiting, hanging onto every syllable, every purse of his cherry lips.

He switches on and off like a light. Beautiful, soft, thoughtful one minute, all force and darkness the next. You faithfully take it all, every facet of him. Your angel boy. Your wicked soldier.

Joan of Arc was only hallucinating, but she wasn’t half as lucky as you to have conjured something half as astonishing as Bucky. Gorgeous strong jaw, bristles along his chin and cheek scrubbing noisily against your lips as he kisses you. His mouth— open and wet, sloppy against yours— hardly landing right and you’re toeing delirium by the time his fingers slide up your shirt.

Bucky pushes you down into the sheets, rucking up your skirt until it bunches around your waist. “We’re in a rush, remember?” He tucks two fingers into the elastic of your panties and yanks them to one side. Just enough. In a rush. Your thighs meet with a determined shimmy of his hips— those incredible hips— and then you’re full, so full of him.

The blood in your ears crashes against reality and bends it all sideways. Not religious like that, but since the first time you’d touched him, you’ve been cocksure if heaven were real, it’d be this. It’d be him.

“Everyone’s gonna know,” Bucky promises, “You stumbling in there.”

The image flashes through your addled brain, the tell-tale sign of him screwing you stupid— lips swollen, legs wobbly, outfit crumpled up, smelling like him and sex in front of all your friends.

“You want it, don’t you, want them to know you’re all mine?” He smears your wet around the sides of where he’s connected— spit, slick— up to your clit. And then he pushes you like a button, flicking the pad of his thumb upwards and grins at the way you jerk in time to it like a trained toy.

“Bucky,” you mewl, “Buck.” The syllable breaks, your panting comes out in choked babbling.

He takes the back of your neck again, lowering his body over yours, faster now. Deliberately reckless and the entire bed is rocking, springs squealing under his pace.

“Oh my god,” you smash your brow into the junction of his shoulder, hanging on by a thread as he drives into you, on a mission to break either the bed frame or your brain, both were fine. In a rush. Can’t quit now. A little bit more. Your entire body is folded against him, insides fluttering desperately, maddeningly.

“Come,” he commands, “Come for me right now and I’ll fuck you through it, how you like. Then I’ll make you come again and we can go.”

His grip is tourniquet tight, thumb moving to the middle of your throat, pressing ever so slightly until your breath feels trapped under the swirl of his fingerprint. The curtain of his hair hangs over your face, blocking out the room going blindingly white. Your eyes shut tightly, opening only for a second to catch him panting over you, burning hot, his features flickering from utter control to trembling pleasure to something akin to frenzy.

Your vision shuffles like a deck of cards. His hands are everywhere. Eyes devouring every inch of your skin. There’s a million of him taking a million of you to a million more pieces. You shatter then, clawing his back and arms, singing like a fucking choir the infinity of his name.

Bucky. Bucky. Bucky. He makes your days holy. The altar of his body. The sacrament of his sweat. He breaks you apart into something luminous.

Religion. Not religion. Your heathen soul—whatever tiny fracture you may have—all his, forever. Now, tomorrow, at the end of the world.

So, when the two of you stumble into a nearly finished dinner, as predicted, over an hour late and in terrible disarray, Steve crosses himself before promising, “I’m getting you two a goddamn chastity belt.”

On the couch, Sam clicks the remote to a new channel, snapping his fingers with an offhanded, “A-fucking-men.” 

All you can do is duck your head and grin.

[lsvdw-blog]

Not a Minute More: Part I

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings; Rating: Minor angst at the end; General

Premise: Ethan and MC are living in a honeymoon bliss and going about their normal routine. Then something happens that rocks Ethan to his core and threatens to change his life.

Author’s Note: New series comin' at ya! This is my first time writing fluff, so please excuse me if it's cringey 😅 Thank you to @choiceskatie for pre-reading!! I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 7:00am ~

“Good morning, handsome.”

Serena walks up to an omelette-making Ethan, wraps her arms around his waist, and places a gentle kiss on his shoulder blade.

Ethan places one hand over hers, a smile spreading across his face, while the other wields a spatula.

He plates the omelette, turns the stove off, and turns in Serena’s arms to face her. He tightly envelops her, placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

“Good morning, indeed,” he smiles.

“Mmm, that’s my line,” she says, her hands moving leisurely up his bare chest, and her eyes trailing hungrily over his gym-honed physique.

Ethan lets out a hearty chuckle, turning slightly to grab their breakfast.

“As much as I’d love to take you back to bed," he gives her a quick peck, "you have a big day ahead of you, so,” he hands her a plate, “actual protein.”

“Buzzkill,” Serena pouts as she takes the ham, cheese, and veggie omelette from him. Ethan shakes his head in amusement and places one hand on her lower back to guide her towards the dining room table.

“For now, but in 10 hours…” he raises an eyebrow and smirks at her.

“10 hours and not a minute more,” she responds, sitting down, and giving him a stern look.

He laughs again. Something he’s been doing a lot more of since she came into his life. “Yes, baby.”

That seems to please Serena as she smiles and does a little wiggle in her chair, cutting into her omelette.

His apartment overlooks the glittering Charles River and the towering Boston skyline — a view people would kill for. But he’s not paying attention. His eyes are trained on the woman next to him. His t-shirt falls to her mid-thighs, her midnight hair tied at the nape of her neck, and the dainty gold necklace she never takes off is brilliant in the early morning glow. Serena shifts slightly and the faint smell of sunscreen wafts towards him.

“SPF on the face is important!” He grins at the memory.

She spends most of her time at Ethan's place nowadays. It's more private, compared to her shared apartment, and there's more space for them to sprawl out and be a couple. They cook dinner together, with Ethan learning to make her favorite dishes and incessantly asking her to taste test to ensure he gets the flavor right. They've made loading the dishwasher and walking Jenner into a two person job. He's even caught her stashing away some of his clothes in her overnight bag before: "I'm borrowing them!"

On the off nights when she insists on staying at her place to catch up on laundry or spend time with her friends, Ethan goes home to a dark and unwelcoming apartment. There is no source of laughter, light, or warmth. He never noticed it before, but now, Serena is his source of all of that, and more. Home is wherever she is.

How did I get so lucky?

“Why aren’t you eating?” Her head is tilted to the side and her brows are slightly furrowed.

Her question brings him out of his trance. He stares at her for a beat, his azure eyes filled with adoration. “Just admiring the view.”

Serena rolls her eyes and goes to playfully smack his arm, but he catches it. Interlaces their fingers and brings it to his lips. Her eyes soften as they gaze at each other.

“I could get used to mornings like this, you know," he rumbles.

"Yeah?"

He nods his head. "Yeah. I love spending them with you."

"The feeling is mutual, Dr. Ramsey." She leans in, stopping a hair's breadth away from his lips. "But I gotta get ready for my big day now," she says with a glint in her eye.

Ethan tries, and fails, to catch her lips with his own as she leans away and gets up from the table. "You're such a tease."

"Am I? Or are you just getting slow in your old age?" She playfully retorts.

Ethan stands abruptly from the table, chasing after her. Serena squeals in surprise and takes off towards the ensuite.

~ 7:40am ~

Ethan is leaning against the doorframe, arms and feet crossed, admiring Serena as she applies the finishing touches to her makeup.

"How many times are you going to stare at me today?" Serena questions.

He pushes off the doorframe and walks over to her. "As many times as you'll allow Rookie."

He hugs her waist. "Are you ready for today?"

Serena sighs and leans back into him. "I'm a little nervous. If testing doesn't go well today, we'll have to start from scratch. All our work, gone."

For the past few months, Serena has been consulting on a classified research project headed by scientists and engineers at Harvard University. The team was incredibly impressed with her capabilities, shown in saving Dr. Banerji's life and being the 2nd youngest member of the renowned Edenbrook Diagnostics Team, and liked that she provided a younger perspective. They brought her on and Ethan makes the 15 minute detour to drop her off three times a week.

"You all are ready. It will go great."

She locks eyes with him in the mirror. "Thank you, E."

~ 8:15am ~

Ethan puts the car in park, turns on his hazards, and turns to look at her.

"I can't wait to hear all about how today was an absolute success. You don't need it, but good luck." He squeezes her hand.

She nods. "Only 8 hours and 45 minutes left."

"And not a minute more," he smiles at her before leaning in to kiss her.

Ethan pulls away first, not wanting her to be late, but Serena continues to go back in for more soft kisses. After the sixth one, she finally pulls away smiling. She opens the car door, swings her legs out, and walks through the secured entrance.

~ 11:00am ~

The Diagnostics Team currently has no patients, so Ethan's morning is mundane, filled with meetings and endless paperwork. He itches to call Serena to break up the monotony, but knows she won't have her phone on her until lunch: no cell phones allowed in the lab. He settles on sending her a quick text — it'll be waiting for her. He pulls up their messaging thread, sends the text, and his eyes wander upward to see the remnants of their last conversation.

She had gotten, and dressed, Jenner in a new bow tie. She then blew up Ethan's phone with photos of Jenner, photos of her and Jenner, and even a few where she was wearing one of Ethan's bow ties to match.

"Look, we're twins!!"

Ethan re-scrolls through all of the photos and can't help the smile that lights up his face at how excited she gets about a small accessory for his dog. God, I love her.

There it is again, Ethan thinks. The 3 words and 8 letters that he never thought he'd feel, let alone want to voice. This feeling has become overwhelming in the past few weeks. He's reminded of it whenever he inhales the lingering scent of her perfume in the office, when he finds one of her forgotten face products at his place, the small moments they share when she sneaks away to visit him, "just because." It consumes him and makes his heart swell.

But he knows she's been extremely stressed with project duties, on top of handling the Diagnostics Team and regular patients. It just doesn't seem right to blurt it out when she's juggling so many things. But if all goes well, her portion of the project ends on Thursday and she'll be back to her normal workload. That's why he's been secretly making romantic plans for this weekend, not only to celebrate her success, but to also finally tell her how he feels. He wants the first time he utters those words to her to be special. Magical. Extraordinary. Just like her.

Just then, his pager beeps and he's pulled out of his second Serena trance of the day. He sets his phone down on the table, pulls out his pager, and is met with a message from Dr. Delarosa, asking for a consult. Just as he exits through the door, his phone lights up with a photo of Serena and her incoming call.

~ 2:15pm ~

The consultation with Ines turned into admitting the patient under the Diagnostics Team and the rest of the afternoon was spent running through possible diagnoses. Before he knew it, it had been over 3 hours and Ethan hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning. He can't help but think how much easier this case would be with Serena here and her perspective. Not only does her presence help keep him calm, but she always comes up with suggestions that would inevitably lead to the correct diagnosis. He throws his glasses on the table and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

He begins to stand, wanting to make his way to his desk, intending to call Serena on the off chance she picks up. However, before he's even able to reach his full height, Dr. Banerji walks in.

"My boy, are you busy?"

"No. Am I needed somewhere?"

Naveen looks at him for a beat too long, causing Ethan's confusion to spike. Naveen walks to the center table and switches on the TV. There, panning around the screen is an aerial view of the Harvard University lab complex, surrounded by police cars and SWAT members, as well as multiple aircraft. In bold letters, scrolling endlessly across the bottom of the screen is: Possible attack at Harvard University labs. On lockdown.

Ethan gawks at the screen with wide eyes and his pulse immediately picks up.

"Isn't Serena at Harvard labs today?"

~~~~~~

Disclaimer: I know Ethan starts his day and gets to the hospital at an ungodly hour, but let's ignore that bc I am my MC is not a morning person 😅

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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[sunshinecrashed]

falling for you

kamado tanjiro x reader

training turned tension starters, “...do we always end up on top of each other?”

summary: the two times you fall onto him, and the one time he falls onto you.

word count: 1,800+

warnings: minor injuries, fighting demons, just a tiny bit of suggestiveness mainly just fluff tho :)

a/n: i enjoyed writing this *so much* holy shit

• ﹒•  °  ˚ ° ⋆ ✧ ✧ ✧ ⋆ ° ˚  ° •﹒ •

The first time you “fell for him” was during the Final Selection.

Dusk was settling over the forest fast, and you were snoring away in a dreamless sleep. You were currently high up in one of the trees laying on a branch with your back to the trunk, your Nichirin blade laying across your lap. 

This had quickly become a routine for you; regain your energy by sleeping during the day, and slay the demons in the forest at night. But the exhaustion must have finally settled in, and you haven’t woken up yet despite the setting sun. 

On the forest floor, a young demon slayer with a hanafuda earrings was already awake and alert, prepared for the night to come. As the wind shifted direction, his nose caught the scent of... someone new? Under the first layer of dirt and dried blood (an expected combination that he had become familiar with), he caught the faint scent of cherry blossoms and something that vaguely reminded him of warmth. 

Tanjiro closed his eyes in concentration as he tried to pinpoint the owner. With a little "oh!”, he found himself looking up towards the tree tops where he caught a glimpse of you sitting on a branch. 

“Ah, that makes sense.” he said with a smile. With all of the other demon slayers scattered around the forest, it had been a little while since he had come in contact with another person. 

Should he try to get your attention? Night was quickly approaching and it would be immoral for him to just leave you there vunerable.... and it didn’t look like you were going to wake up any time soon with how deep in sleep you were.

“Umm.. Excuse me?” He cupped his hands and tried to call up. 

Not even a peep from you. You snored away, blissfully unaware. Tanjiro tried again, this time a little louder. “Hello?” 

A twitch of the leg. Hey, at least he was getting somewhere!

And finally, after one last “HELLO???” you jerked awake with a loud gasp, sitting upright with too much momentum. Tanjiro’s eyes widened as he saw you lose your balance and not-so-gracefully tumble out of the tree. 

You yelped in fear, preparing to hit the ground before you were caught in someone’s sturdy arms. But nothing could have prepared Tanjiro for the impact, and you both crashed to the ground, which was still better than falling straight to the ground out of a tree.

“Ouch...” You rubbed your head a little before you realized that you were currently interlaced with someone else. Your eyes met with gentle dark red ones and at last you said, “Oh my god! I am so so sorry--” as you helped him up. 

The demon slayer laughed brightly as he took your hand. 

"It’s no problem! Really, it was my fault for surprising you in the first place.” He commented with a nonchalant smile. He looked really handsome when he did that, especially in the last few rays of light before nightfall.

 You smiled back with a light blush on your face. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m [Name], it’s nice to meet you!” you introduced. 

“Nice to meet you, [Name],” he said brightly. “My name is Kamado Tanjiro. Want to stick together until we’re out of this forest?”

-- -- --

The second time you “fell for him” was on Natagumo Mountain, against the Spider Family. 

After the Final Selection a few months back, you and Tanjiro accompanied each other through every mission. You actually got along really well with him, and his kind-hearted nature let you two bond together seamlessly. 

Along the way, you got to meet with his sister Nezuko, who (after you got over the initial shock of) you discovered was very sweet and filled with curiosity. Zenitsu was a real oddball at first, begging you to marry him and later clinging to you at the Drum House. But, like with most people, he grew on you after some time, and you enjoyed teasing him about his loneliness (to which he would playfully hit you with his sleeves and halfheartedly cry in denial). Inosuke on the other hand... was an interesting thing. Some days, he would quietly absorb your praise as he processed your kindness to him, and other days he would yell at you to fight him so that he could confirm his strength. 

This little group of weirdo’s that you’ve somehow been wrapped up in has found its way into your heart, and you wouldn’t trade them for the world. Yes, you valued your friendship with them, but you couldn’t help feeling that what you had with Tanjiro was... different. 

The four of you (and Nezuko) were currently deep in the Natagumo forest, clashing swords with the puppet Mizunotos. 

As your blade met a puppet’s with a sharp clang, you gritted your teeth and called out to Tanjiro, “There’s a few more over here! How do they just keep coming--” 

Before you could finish your sentence, you hardly realized that the tiny spiders had connected their threads to your arms and shoulders, and you were pulled up into the trees, wrists tied together. 

Tanjiro whipped around when he heard your cry and the sound of your sword falling. 

“[Name]!” He gasped, abandoning his current fight with a different puppet. Your arm was being pulled into a brutal position and tears welled up in your eyes as you cried out in pain. 

His body moved before he could even process it, and before he knew it, he had slashed the threads holding you in place, dropping you both to the ground. With a crash that was all to similar to the first time you met, this time you found yourself on top of him while he looked up at you concerned.

 “Shit, [Name] are you okay?” He asked worriedly. You brushed the tears from your eyes as you quickly nodded and confirmed, “..Yeah, I’m alright. Thank you, Tanjiro. That could have gotten really nasty.” 

“Of course.. but will you be able to fight with that arm?” His eyes scanned you for any more injuries. You gave him a reassuring smile. “It was my non-dominant arm. They’ll have to try a lot harder to get me!” 

Tanjiro let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Thank goodness. You’re really important to me.” His eyes widened before he stuttered out, “I-I mean, what I was trying to say was--” 

It was only then that he realized that you were still on top of him, and a blush steadily grew onto his face as he froze. He could feel the warmth of your body through your uniform, and as a fleeting thought, he concluded that he really enjoyed your scent this close up--

“HEY! QUIT YOUR YAPPING!” Inosuke interrupted, as he charged towards you both with the intention of head-butting you both. 

“eep!”

-- -- --

For the third and (hopefully) final time, it was actually Tanjiro that fell for you. 

All of you guys had been staying at the Butterfly Estate under the care of Shinobu and the other kind girls. You came out of the Natagumo attack with relatively light injuries, except for your arm, which you later found out had small fractures in it that needed a few weeks to fully heal, and a shoulder strain. But Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Inosuke had it the worst, with a large handful of concerning injuries spread between all of them. 

Even as your arm recovered, you still stayed at the Mansion to partake in the daily training exercises and practicing Total Concentration: Constant. Tanjiro was the one working the hardest to master this, and to your bewilderment, he even went out on the rooftop while everyone was asleep to fully immerse himself. 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you glanced around the room, realizing that Tanjiro’s bed was empty.

‘Is he out meditating again?’ you wondered. 

 Inosuke laid on your left side sprawled out in a star-fish fashion, his boar’s head still on his shoulders even in sleep. A few beds over, Zenitsu was curled up in the fetal position while he snored remarkably loud.

 ‘One of these nights I’m going to smother him with a pillow--’ you thought while you slid your legs out of bed and shuffled over to the door, shivering at the cold ground. 

Just as you thought, Tanjiro was sitting on the rooftop, eyes closed, sit in a criss-cross fashion to keep himself upright. You sighed as you carefully climbed up to sit beside him, gently coaxing him out of his meditation with the soft calling of his name. 

‘--anjiro. Tanjiro..?’ He opened his eyes to see you already looking at him, with pink dusted over your cheeks. You hoped that your blush could be passed off as an indication of the cold air. Definitely not my feelings for Tanjiro, nope. 

Your lips quirked up, making his heat beat a just a tad bit faster at the sight. “Sorry to bother you,” You tucked some hair behind your ear. “I got a little curious when I saw that you weren’t in your bed.” 

“Don’t worry about it! It’s a little chilly out, so lets go back inside.” He stood up and reached his roughened hand out for you to steady yourself onto. Once he felt your softer hand in his, the butterflies in his stomach that he was trying so hard to brush off erupted, and he couldn’t fight the beaming of his smile. 

And once you saw him smile, you knew it was over for you too.

As you both made your way down from the roof, Tanjiro’s hand slipped from yours as he lost footing with a yelp. 

“T-Tanjiro!” You reacted as quick as you could, your practiced reflexes jumping into action as you caught him before he could hit the ground. You dove into a roll so that you didn’t hurt him, and ended up with his legs tangled in yours. 

This time the roles were switched as you held him in your arms, both of you sharing the same wide-eyed expression. Tanjiro was the first one to snap out of it, asking “..Do we always end up on top of each other?” with a soft smile. 

You quickly stood up with him and began your stuttering apology before he cut you off.

“What are you--” Tanjiro gently shushed you by pulling you by the waist and pressing his lips against yours. Your whole body froze up as you realized that Tanjiro was kissing you.

He broke the kiss after a second and immediately gasped, letting out a hurried “I’m so sorry-- I should have asked you first!” He closed his eyes and prepared to face the backlash. 

But he faced none as he was only met with the feeling of soft lips against his own.

 Once he understood that you were okay with it (more than okay with it), he smiled against your lips and pressed your warm body into his. In return, your hands found their way around his neck and into the curls of his dark red hair. 

Somewhere in between all of the tumbles you both took, you must have truly fallen for each other. 

[maybeimamuppet]

I think I wanna marry you

hello friends!! this is a request fill for Aubrey_Plaza_Stole_HappiestSeason on ao3.

also, in a previous work, I said cady's middle name was Allison just because I liked the way it sounded, but I was browsing Erika henningsen's instagram and found that she calls her cady Jane as in Jane Goodall, and I like that much better. so, its Jane now. enjoy!

-

“Damian!” Janis calls from the bedroom she shares with Cady in their New York apartment.

“What?!” He calls back.

“Is Caddy home?” She asks loudly, wondering why one of them didn’t just go to the other.

“No!”

“Then come here!”

He comes strolling in casually with a bagel, chewing a mouthful. “Wha’ you wan’?”

“Finish chewing, I don’t want you to choke,” Janis demands, knowing him well. He listens, thankfully, swallowing his bite and coming to sit next to her on the bed.

“Okay, what is it?”

“I want to propose to Caddy,” Janis rushes out. Exactly as she expected, he sucks in a large gasp, dropping his bagel to press a hand over his heart. “Can you help me?”

“Yes!” He says excitedly. “Oh my god, finally!”

“Finally? We’re twenty-two, dude,” Janis says, confused. She’d thought they were a bit young to be thinking of marriage.

“Literally everyone in our friend group expected you to get engaged before we started college and elope,” Damian responds, leveling her with a single look.

“We’d only been dating for, like, four and a half months by the time you and I left, what the hell kind of toxic relationship did you think we have?!” Janis demands.

“You two were absolutely revoltingly in love, you would’ve done it and found a way to make it work. I’m just glad you’ve calmed down a little,” Damian jokes.

“Hm,” Janis huffs, thinking. They had gotten into things pretty quickly in high school. Their temporary long distance relationship had actually done them a lot of favors. “Anyway, can you help me?”

“Yes, of course! How do you want to do it?” He asks, lying down on his tummy and taking another bite of his bagel.

“I was thinking when we go home for Christmas? Like, on Christmas Eve, maybe. I wanted to take her to some fancy ‘holiday’ dinner and then take her on a walk to the clearing by that pond where we had our first date, and propose there?” She says quickly. She’s planned it for a while, but she still wants to make sure it doesn’t sound dumb.

“Aww,” Damian coos. “That sounds great, she’ll love it. What do you want me to do?”

“Help me pick a ring, first of all. And then, since you’re coming back to Illinois with us, help me decorate the place with, like, candles and pretty lights and stuff?” Janis asks, looking to him for approval again.

“Done. You wanna go shopping now?” He asks, shoving the rest of his bagel in his mouth.

“Um... yeah, why not? I’ll be ready in a minute,” She says, pushing him to the door.

————-

Little did Janis know, Cady was across town with Regina, Gretchen, and Karen coming up with a proposal plan of her own. She’d asked them out on a coffee get-together, trying to bribe them into helping her plan everything.

“Hey, Cady!” Gretchen calls from across the café where she’s standing, flanked by her girlfriends. Cady stands to hug them, she’s been so busy working on her PhD that she hasn’t been able to see them much lately.

“Hi! I ordered for all of us, we’re over here,” she says, leading them to a table in the far corner.

“It’s so good to see you, it’s been forever,” Regina says, sitting across from her with Karen, and Gretchen next to Cady.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you guys! My schoolwork is kicking my ass lately,” Cady huffs. “How have you been?”

“Good! We got an axolotl!” Karen says excitedly.

“Aww! I love those, but we can’t have any pets at all in our apartment,” Cady says sadly. “What did you name it?”

“Louboutin,” Gretchen says with a happy smile. “Gina wants to give him a sibling named Gucci.”

“Aww. I wanna come meet him soon,” Cady says.

“Oh, absolutely! We’ll have a girls night soon once our schoolwork eases up a little,” Regina says happily. “What about you, how have you been?”

“Oh, you know. About as good as a PhD student can be,” Cady says with a chuckle. “But really, I’ve been fine. Um, I actually wanted to ask a favor of you guys.”

“Ooh, ulterior motive! What do you need?” Gretchen asks excitedly, still hungry for gossip like she was in high school.

“I want to propose to Janis,” Cady says quickly. All three girls squeal loudly and wrap her in a hug, Regina and Karen leaning over the table and nearly spilling their drinks.

“When?” Karen asks excitedly once they’ve sat back down.

“Where?” Regina adds.

“I was thinking Christmas Eve when we all go back home? Our first date was in this beautiful clearing in the woods by that pond, I was going to do it there,” Cady says quietly.

“Aww,” the three of them coo in the same tone at the same time. It’s frightening how in sync they are, sometimes.

“So what do you need us for?” Karen asks.

“I was hoping you guys could help me pick a ring, and set up the area once the day comes? If you can,” Cady asks. “And Regina, could you take photos? Like, hidden somewhere? I can pay you for them.”

“Yes I can, and no you will not. You’re my best friend, you get free pictures,” Regina says, shaking with excitement.

“You don’t have to do that, Gina,” Cady says, feeling guilty now.

“Cady, honey, I’m still rich. I don’t need your money. Think of it as a favor for me, I need more practice with photographing people anyway.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Anyway, are you guys free next weekend to go ring shopping?”

“Yes,” all of them say together again.

“Okay then,” Cady giggles. “What have you guys been up to?”

————-

On November first, Regina is sitting on the sofa in her apartment, reading through some emails for work and sipping her favorite peppermint tea. She decides to take a break when her phone pings with a text; her back is starting to bother her anyway.

She stands up to stretch as she checks it, trying not to be too surprised when she finds it’s from Janis.

snarkisian: hey reggie are u going home for christmas ??

notreginald: Yes, why?

snarkisian: are u busy on christmas eve ??

notreginald: Depends on what time. What do you need?

snarkisian: i’m gonna propose to caddy that night and i was wondering if you’d take some pics of it

snarkisian: i’ll pay u for them obviously

Regina sucks in a gasp. They’re planning on proposing on the same night?

notreginald: Aww, congratulations! I’ll see if I’m free, where and when are you planning on doing it? And you don’t have to pay me.

snarkisian: the clearing in the woods where we had our first date, around nightfall. i’m gonna take her to a fake christmas dinner first tho

So, they have exactly the same proposal plan. How cute.

notreginald: Let me check my calendar. I should be free.

She lied, she needs to talk to Damian immediately.

georgewashington: HUBBARD WE HAVE A SITUATION

damecupboard: What happened who do I need to kill

georgewashington: What? Nobody. But Janis and Cady want to propose to each other on the same night and in the same place.

damecupboard: HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLT SHIT

georgewashington: Holt.

damecupboard: Bitch leave me alone

damecupboard: They have the exact same proposal plan??

georgewashington: Exactly the same, except Janis wants to take Cady to dinner first. Cady asked us to help get the area set up beforehand a while ago and asked me to take their engagement pics.

georgewashington: And Janis just texted me asking to take pictures for HER proposal.

damecupboard: Shit

damecupboard: They probably both want the same setup, we could work together and then stick you in a bush or smth

georgewashington: Works for me, other than the bush. I’ll text you later to find out what we need to order. Love you 📷

damecupboard: Bye Reggie!!

She switches back to her text thread with Janis.

notreginald: I’m totally free in the evening that day, so it should work out.

snarkisian: tits! are u sure i can’t pay u??

notreginald: I don’t want your money, Jan. Just spell correctly for once in your life.

snarkisian: noh

notreginald: Figures.

————-

About a week later, Janis and Cady are having their weekly date night. Every Saturday they make a commitment to go on a date. Sometimes they go out for dinner, sometimes they go see a movie, and other times they just go for a walk around the city and chat, catching up on the events of the week.

Tonight, they decide to do one of their favorite things: stay home. Damian has an evening audition and won’t be home until late, so they have the apartment to themselves.

They order in some Indian food, deciding not to cook this time since they’re both exhausted from the week. It’s peaceful, eating their dinner sitting across from each other on the floor, using the coffee table as a dinner table. They chat about how Janis’ work has been, what paintings she’s been doing in her off time, how Cady’s schoolwork is going, little things like that.

Cady cuddles in on top of Janis as they watch a movie, falling asleep slightly as Janis plays with her hair. It’s only about seven in the evening, but she’s so tired and Janis is so warm.

She about jumps out of her skin when Janis’ phone goes off. Their usual rule is no phones on date night, but they both are waiting on some important information so made an exception for tonight. Janis checks the message, her eyes going wide when she sees what it is.

“Cads, I’m really sorry, I have to go,” She says frantically, Cady frowning at her as she’s removed from her embrace.

“Go where? It’s late,” Cady pouts. Janis has never left date night before.

“Um... a work thing,” Janis says. “Emergency. I shouldn’t be more than an hour. Maybe hour and a half.”

It’s clearly a lie, Janis teaches art and tutors English down at their local middle school. None of her students would have an emergency this late on a Saturday night.

“Janis, you’re a teacher, what emergency could possibly happen this late at night? On a weekend?” Cady asks, rubbing her eyes.

“Uhm... not that work, something happened to one of my commissions down at the studio. I have to go check on it.” Janis says, proud of how quickly she came up with that.

“Oh. Okay,” Cady responds, still eyeing her suspiciously. “Be safe.”

“I will. I have my pepper spray,” Janis says, coming to kiss her goodbye quickly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with that, Cady is left alone. She decides to clean up after their dinner, throwing the containers away and washing the dishes they used. She’s deep in thought as she scrubs away at a plate.

She definitely lied to me, she wouldn’t even look me in the eye. And she spent forever picking that studio because she wanted somewhere good, if something happened to one of her works someone would have known how to fix it.

So where could she have gone? On date night? What was so important? Did she get invited to do something else? With someone else? Maybe I’ve gotten boring. I can’t be very interesting to talk to, all I’ve got going on is school.

That thought makes her pause. Janis couldn’t be sick of her. Could she? Cady takes a deep breath, switching to grab a towel to dry the dishes. She’s been down this road before, she knows she shouldn’t jump to conclusions. But maybe she’ll take time to gather some more evidence first before telling Janis how she’s feeling. That’s probably not a terrible idea.

-

Janis rushes to the subway station near their apartment, even more on edge than she normally is in public. She’d gotten a text notification that the ring she and Damian had chosen was ready, and wants to go check since she’ll be busy making Thanksgiving preparations soon. The shop closes in an hour and is about forty-five minutes away, so she has to hurry.

The shopkeeper looks a little startled when she throws the door open and dashes in, so Janis pauses for a second to make sure she doesn’t look like a robber. She smooths her hair and clothes and heads up to the counter at a much slower pace.

“Um, hi, sorry. I got a text that an engagement ring I ordered is ready?” She says gently.

The employee looks relieved upon realizing Janis isn’t crazy, sighing quietly. “Oh, that’s perfectly understandable. What’s the name for the order?”

“Sarkisian,” Janis responds, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

The employee heads into a back room, returning after a second with a small velvet box. “Here you are.”

Janis opens the box, gasping gently at what she sees. She’d seen it to pick the style, obviously, but something about seeing it in Cady’s size and presented in the fancy box makes it so much more real.

She’d stolen one of Cady’s less fancy rings  to get her size, and when she compares them it’s a perfect match. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”

“Not a problem, ma’am. Best of luck with the proposal.”

This guy is disgustingly polite, she thinks as she heads for the door. “Thank you!” She calls over her shoulder just before she reaches the door.

Once she’s left, she pulls out her phone to text Damian.

janjan: hey i just picked up the ring

janjan: can we meet somewhere so i can give it to u? caddy will be sus if i immediately go to hide something when i get home

damdam: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

damdam: Yeah I just finished my audition. I’ll be at that noodle place we like, meet me there

janjan: 📷

It’s about a block and a half away from where she is, so she sort of power-walks her way over. She’s still panting slightly by the time she reaches him.

“Lemme see,” Damian demands as soon as he sees her. Janis pulls the box out of her pocket, flipping the lid open to show him. “Oh, Jan, it’s so pretty.”

“Do you think Caddy’ll like it?” Janis asks, shutting it again and handing it over. She’s a little nervous about letting it out of her sight, but she honestly trusts him with it more than herself.

“Of course, Janjan. You picked it for a reason, she’ll love it,” Damian says as he puts it safely in his coat pocket.

“It’d better be worth it. I feel bad, I left in the middle of date night,” Janis says nervously.

Damian pats her shoulder comfortingly. “She’ll understand, Jan. Eventually.”

“I hope so,” Janis mumbles. “Dame?” She asks after a beat.

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t we just meet at the station?”

“I want noodles.”

————-

They decide to have Thanksgiving with all three of their families together, since everyone was coming to them instead of the other way around. For New York, their apartment is fairly large, but it’s still quite cramped with everyone present.

Janis can cook well enough, but she had recently dropped an entire watermelon on the floor and was subsequently banned from helping prepare any of the meal. She’s in charge of keeping everything presentable while Damian entertains.

So, Cady is preparing the meal with her own mother, as well as Janis’. Ms. Hubbard and Damian both offered to help as well, but their little kitchen isn’t big enough for any more people. Cady is left alone with Ms. Sarkisian as her own mother heads to the restroom, deciding to ask the million dollar question now.

“Ms. Juliette, can I ask you something?” Cady asks. Janis’ mother had insisted on Cady calling her by her first name, but she never quite managed it. Her compromise is still using the title in front of her name. It suits them both well enough.

“Of course, hon,” Ms. Sarkisian says, basting the turkey.

Cady looks quickly to make sure Janis isn’t around before she speaks, talking quietly. “Um... I’m planning on proposing to Janis, around Christmas. I’d like to ask your blessing.” Cady has a feeling it’ll be given, but she’s nervous. They’re still very young, Janis is barely twenty-three.

Ms. Sarkisian gasps happily and comes to hug her. “Of course you have my blessing, I’ve been waiting for this day since you two first started dating. Welcome to the family, honey.”

Cady hugs her back tightly, relieved she agreed. “Thank you.” She hopes she’ll actually be welcomed to the family. Janis has still been acting odd.

-

Janis is ambling around in the living room, out of things to keep tidy for the moment. She’s trying to work up the nerve to talk to Cady’s parents.

When Mrs. Heron comes through to use the restroom, she realizes she might only have this moment to ask them. She takes some deep breaths, standing a little ways away from the bathroom to wait for Cady’s mother.

“Oh, hello, Janis,” Mrs. Heron says as she comes back, wiping some excess water on her pant legs.

“Uh, hi, Mrs. Heron,” Janis stutters. “Can-could I talk to you and Mr. Heron really quick? Um, alone?”

“I’ve told you to call me Betsy, dear. And yes, I’ll go get Chip,” Cady’s mother replies. She returns with her husband after a second, both looking slightly concerned. “Now what is this about?”

Janis swallows and puffs out her chest slightly for confidence. “Uhm, I want to propose to Cady. She loves you two more than anything, so I wanted to ask your blessing.”

Mrs. Heron gasps happily, coming to hug her. Mr. Heron is more stoic, but she sees tears brimming in his eyes.

“Oh, you absolutely have our blessing, dear. Welcome to the family,” Mrs. Heron says.

“Thanks,” Janis breathes. Betsy leaves after that and returns to her daughter in the kitchen. Mr. Heron wraps her in another awkward hug, eventually giving up and pulling back to shake her hand instead.

“You have my blessing. But if you hurt my baby girl, you’ll never see the light of day again,” He says ominously. “Take care of her. Welcome to the family.”

“Um...I don’t plan on it, sir, thank you,” Janis stumbles. “I promise I’ll take care of her.”

“I know you will, I just have to make sure of these things as her father,” Chip replies. “I’ll tell her to do the same for you whenever you propose.”

Janis feels tears prick at her eyes. She knows her mother is protective, but having an actual father figure is nice. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Janis.”

-

They head back to the living room, where everyone else is waiting. Janis shoots Juliana a look, gesturing for her to come over to her.

“What’s up, Janny?” Her sister asks.

“You have to swear to be quiet if I tell you, Caddy can’t know,” Janis threatens.

Juliana looks at her oddly. “Okay.”

Janis pulls out the ring box, prompting a gasp from her sister. Julie slaps a hand over her mouth, squealing into it and doing a little happy dance. “I get another sister! Finally!”

“Shh,” Janis demands. “But yes, hopefully. I’m trusting you with this. I’m gonna propose at Christmas. Can you take this home with you and keep it safe somewhere?”

Julie’s eyes go wide, shocked at the amount of trust her big sister has in her. “Yeah, absolutely. Have you told Mama?”

“No, I’m going to whenever she takes a break. She’s with Caddy, I haven’t been able to get her away.”

“Can I see it?” Julie asks, cradling the ring box carefully and opening it when Janis nods. “Oh, damn. She’s a lucky lady.”

Janis laughs, ruffling her hair. “Thanks, kid, glad you approve.”

“What are we approving, girls? What are you scheming?” Their mother asks as she comes to take a short break from the cooking.

Julie looks to Janis, letting her share the news. “I’m proposing to Caddy. Probably on Christmas Eve.”

Her mom raises her eyebrows, smiling widely when she realizes that they both have the same plan. She comes to hug her, trying to hide her reaction and keep Cady’s proposal a surprise. “Congratulations, baby girl.”

“She hasn’t said yes yet, mama,” Janis reminds her, returning her hug.

“Do you think she’s going to say no?” Juliana asks jokingly.

Janis pauses. “No.”

“Then let her congratulate you, Janny. She’s gonna say yes.” Julie says.

“Okay. Thank you.”

-

“Mom, Daddy, can I talk to you?” Cady asks when Janis goes to grab a second plate from the kitchen.

“Always, binti,” her father replies.

“I’m going to propose to Janis,” Cady says in Swahili just in case Janis is listening. “On Christmas Eve.”

Her parents lock eyes, smiling at each other as they discover each girl has the same plan.

“Congratulations, darling. Treat each other well,” her mother says, trying to stop grinning.

“We will. I love you,” Cady replies as she comes to hug them. She misses the look they shoot Ms. Sarkisian over her shoulders.

-

Once their families leave, headed back home to Illinois in the morning, Janis and Cady have a moment alone in the kitchen as Damian tidies up the living room and heads to bed.

Cady comes up behind Janis as she finishes washing the last few dishes, wrapping her arms around her waist and popping up on her tippy toes to kiss her cheek before squishing her cheek against Janis’ back.

“Hi, baby,” Janis says as she switches to grab another plate.

“Hi,” Cady says. “Today was nice.”

Janis finishes her last dish and turns around, leaning to kiss Cady’s forehead and pulling her in for a tighter hug. She dances them around the kitchen, to a song that exists only in her head. Cady giggles when Janis spins her out and then pulls her back in to kiss her sweetly.

“It was nice. I love you,” Janis says.

“I love you too. I’m thankful for you,” Cady replies, popping up to kiss her again. Janis chuckles, kissing her back.

“I’m thankful for you too, Butterfly. Let’s go to bed, I’m exhausted,” Janis yawns.

“Okay, my love. I’m little spoon tonight,” Cady says.

“Fine.”

————-

Thanksgiving was comforting, but Janis continues acting oddly. She seems distracted, and nervous. Whenever Cady is around she seems on high alert, and spends most of her free time on her phone texting someone. Cady is worried.

On their next date night, Cady decides to go all out. She had told Regina about how strange Janis was acting and asked for advice. She had two girlfriends, after all. Regina had suggested being a bit more bold with her affections to see how Janis responded and going from there.

They have the apartment for the night since Damian is having a sleepover with Karen. They had formed a special bond over the years. They have get togethers every now and again, occasionally joined by Janis and Cady, and every once in a while Regina and Gretchen would join too. It’s cute.

Cady made reservations at their favorite Italian restaurant to surprise Janis, and picks out her sexiest lingerie to go under her slightly revealing green dress. She also decides to wear heels so she can reach Janis’ face more easily.

She styles her hair down, since Janis loves to play with it, and does more makeup than she’s normally comfortable with. She decides to leave her freckles visible, though, since Janis loves those too. She swipes on some red lipstick that she rarely uses and is good to go.

Janis is wearing a green button-down top and some nice black pants, sitting on the couch and waiting for her to finish getting ready. “You ready, ba-whoa.” she says upon seeing her.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Cady says, grabbing her bag and reaching for her. Janis pulls her close before they can leave, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her soundly.

“You look incredible. Is there some special occasion I’m forgetting?” She purrs after pulling back, miraculously without having smudged either of their lipsticks.

“No,” Cady says, fiddling with a button on her shirt. “Just wanted to try something new.” Janis’ reaction so far seems to be a good sign.

“Hmm,” Janis hums, looking at her oddly. “Okay. As long as you’re comfortable. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” Cady pecks her lips one more time before pulling away, taking her hand and leading her out the door. “Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”

-

Cady flirts rather aggressively throughout their whole meal; holding Janis’ hand across the table, listening even more intently than she usually does to her stories, even occasionally winking at her.

Janis seems confused by all the attention, but doesn’t complain. She follows quietly after Cady once she pays and smiles as Cady links their fingers together.

“Do you want to walk and look at the lights?” Cady asks as she turns back to look at her.

“You’re in heels and the shortest dress I’ve ever seen, baby, no. We can walk around but we should take you home to change first,” Janis replies, looking meaningfully at her outfit.

“You don’t like it?” Cady asks with a pout.

“No! I mean yes- I... baby, you look beautiful, I love you in this, I just don’t want you to freeze,” Janis explains. “And you’ll damage your feet walking too far in those.”

“Oh,” Cady says with relief. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“You want to head home?” Janis asks.

Cady presses close to her, fiddling with the collar of her shirt. “Yeah,” she purrs. “We can have more fun at home, anyway. Maybe you can help me get out of this.”

Janis lets out a flustered squeak, grabbing her hand and hauling her to a cab.

-

Once they’re both satisfied, Cady pulls Janis to shower with her. “Did you like tonight?”

“Are you kidding? Yeah,” Janis says as Cady gently traces the tattoos covering her arm. “But you’ve been acting kind of... off, are you okay? Did something happen?”

Shit. Janis is onto her. “No, no, I’m fine,” Cady says hastily. “I just wanted to show how much I love you.”

“Aww. Well it was a nice surprise, but I love you all the time, Butterfly,” Janis says as she pulls Cady close to kiss her.

“I love you too.”

Maybe I read things wrong? But what is she up to?

————-

They do actually get to go walk around and see the lights the following weekend. Cady dresses more sensibly this time, in jeans and snow boots. And a Christmas sweater under her coat, which she had talked Janis into matching. Janis had only agreed since their coats would be zipped up.

Cady looks around in childlike wonder at the beautiful lights decorating the neighborhood. She always gets so excited around the holidays. Janis doesn’t think it’ll ever stop being impossibly adorable.

She’s in the midst of trying to process that they’ll hopefully be engaged in about two weeks when Cady suddenly hauls her into an alleyway, pinning her against the wall and kissing her hungrily.

Janis responds in kind, pulling Cady into her and sucking on her lip as she slides her hands into the back pockets of Cady’s jeans. Cady moans quietly, threading her hands through Janis’ short, dark hair and pressing up on her tiptoes to be even closer.

Janis switches their places, turning to lift Cady up and pin her against the wall. Cady squeals in surprise, but locks her legs around Janis’ waist and pulls her back in, giving her lower lip a teasing nip.

Janis pulls back with a gasp for breath, but keeps Cady held against the wall. She groans happily when Cady kisses and nips her cheeks and jaw, letting Janis catch her breath before cupping her face and pressing their lips together again.

Cady is about to ask Janis to take her home so they can continue in private when her phone pings loudly in her pocket. Janis sets her down so she can check it. She blinks in surprise when she sees it’s a text from Aaron.

a-aron: hey, cady! i know it’s been a long time, but i just moved to NY and you’re one of the only people i know in the city. do you want to meet for coffee sometime and catch up?

“Who is it?” Janis asks, but doesn’t try to peek to respect Cady’s privacy.

“Um... it’s Aaron. He just moved to the city, he wants to meet for coffee soon. Would you be okay with that?” Cady asks.

“Damn, he moved here from Cali? At Christmas? Poor dude,” Janis says. “But baby, I don’t control who you meet up with. I trust you, of course you can meet with him.”

“Thanks, lovey. Let me text him back and then we can keep looking around,” Cady hums.

caddy: Sure! Janis and I are going back to Evanston next weekend, though. Are you free this week?

a-aron: does tomorrow work? i could use a break from unpacking. if it’s too short notice that’s fine, damian told me you’re working on your phd. congrats, btw

“What is it?” Janis asks when Cady grins widely.

“He’s been talking with Damian,” Cady says. “Didn’t Damian have a date the other day? And wouldn’t tell us who he was going out with?”

“Oh my god,” Janis squeals. “No way!”

“I think so. I’ll check when I meet with Aaron,” Cady giggles. “One more second, I’m sorry.”

caddy: Thank you! Tomorrow works fine, I’ll text you a good place in a while.

caddy: Oh and Janis says hi :)

a-aron: lol hello janis. see you tomorrow cady

caddy: 📷

“Alright, where were we?” Cady purrs as she pockets her phone again, pulling Janis into another smooch.

————-

The next day, Cady gets ready to meet Aaron around eleven and heads to her favorite local coffee shop.

Aaron is already at a table in the back corner, sipping a mocha as he reads a book.

“Hi, Aaron,” She says, heading over to him.

“Hey, Cady! Long time no see,” Aaron replies, standing and coming to hug her. It’s been about six months since they’ve seen each other, since he came to Regina’s college graduation party in May.

“I know, it’s good to see you!” Cady says as she sits down. “So, what brings you to New York?”

“Work, actually,” Aaron replies. “I was offered a job here and decided to go for it. I was actually kind of lonely all the way out in California. My college friends are all good people, but everyone I’m really connected to is out here now.”

“Like Damian?” Cady teases.

“How did-oh, did I tell you about that?” Aaron stutters. “It’s- we’re not, like, a thing. Or anything.”

“Do you want to be?” Cady asks gently. Aaron had come out as biromantic and asexual during his sophomore year of college. He and Damian would be cute together.

“YeahIreallydo,” Aaron says quickly before abruptly changing the subject. “Anyway, um, how have you and Janis been? Is she still doing art?”

Cady sighs, but smiles at the mention of her girlfriend. “Yeah. She actually teaches art now, to middle schoolers. And she has a commission business she runs on the side. And everything is great with us, I’m actually planning on proposing to her soon.”

Aaron gasps happily. “Congratulations, Cades! When are you doing it?”

“Christmas,” Cady grins. “Well, Christmas Eve. I have a lot to plan still, though.”

“I could help, I’m going to visit family in Evanston too. I’m assuming Damian or Regina is helping you?” Aaron asks.

“Regina, and Gretchen and Karen. Damian’s been busy with something else, but I’ve told him it’s happening,” Cady replies. “If you want to help, that would be great. Regina has been doing most of the shopping, I think.”

“I’ll shoot her a text later. Am I invited to the wedding?” Aaron asks jokingly.

“Of course,” Cady chides. “If it actually happens.”

“Cady, you and Janis are perfect for each other, she’s going to say yes. We’ve all been waiting for this since we were in high school.”

“But we were only dating for a few months in high school,” Cady says.

“But you’ve been in love with her since you met her,” Aaron replies. “I didn’t really notice it when we were together, but you never looked at me the way you look at her. I’m glad everything has worked out for you two.”

Cady is stunned. “Um. Thank you,” she stutters. “I think. So, what were you doing in California after you graduated?”

“I work in accounting now,” Aaron says. “Yes, it is as boring as it sounds. Um, I joined a rec soccer league for a while, that was cool. And I...uh, never mind.”

“No, what? Come on, you can tell me,” Cady coaxes, thanking the waiter as he delivers her tea.

“I dabbled in drag,” Aaron mumbles. Cady chokes on her tea, spitting it back into her mug.

“Oh my god! Really?!” She splutters. “Do you still do it?”

“I haven’t found anywhere to do it here yet, but technically, yes,” Aaron replies.

“What’s your drag name?” Cady demands excitedly. This is an incredible revelation.

“Lois Carmen Denominator,” Aaron says as he flushes. Cady chokes again. Of course he picked a math pun.

“Oh my god, that’s incredible,” she breathes. “Have you told Damian? He loves that stuff.”

“No, we, um. We’ve only met up the once. Somehow that didn’t come up,” Aaron says. “But I’ll let him know.”

“Yes! That’s so neat, you’ll have to let me know when you find somewhere. I’ll come to see you perform,” Cady says excitedly.

“Sure, Cades,” Aaron chuckles. “Um, has Damian, like, mentioned me at all?”

Cady grins. Now it’s her turn to play matchmaker. “Not by name,” she teases. “But he was going on and on about this super hot guy he managed to get a date with the other day.”

Aaron flushes again. “He thinks I’m hot?”

“Apparently,” Cady giggles. “Did you go out with him on Wednesday?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, his voice a few octaves higher.

“Then yes, he thinks you’re hot,” Cady replies.

Aaron is doing his best tomato impression by this point. “Oh. Wait, what do I do now?”

“You’re so flustered, oh my god! Text him, ask to meet again,” Cady says. “He’ll say yes, he was a total mess when he came home the other day.”

“Okay,” Aaron says as he pulls out his phone. He taps out a message quickly, and his face splits in a wide grin when he gets a notification in response a few minutes later. “We’re gonna go see a movie in Evanston when we’re both there next week.”

“Aww, yay! You guys will make such a good couple,” Cady squeals.

“Uh, thanks,” Aaron says sheepishly. His phone pings again. “Oh, shit, I gotta go. I’m sorry.”

“No, I should be going too. Don’t worry about it,” Cady replies as she picks up her bag and orders a to-go iced coffee for Janis. “This was nice.”

“It was. I guess if everything goes well with Dame we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other,” Aaron says. “Later, Cady.”

“Bye!”

-

“Janis!” Cady calls as she slams the door to the apartment open.

“Jesus!” Janis yelps from her spot on the couch. “Baby, don’t do that!”

“Sorry. I got you a coffee,” Cady says sheepishly. “And Aaron and Damian are together. Or almost, anyway. They went on a date last week and they’re gonna go see a movie together when we go home next week. I was excited to tell you. Oh, and Aaron is a drag queen!”

Janis chokes. “He what? Oh, Damian’s gonna love that. He’ll have a hell of a time trying to explain this to us later. Don’t tell him you know anything, this is hilarious.”

“It is kind of funny,” Cady giggles. “Is anyone we were friends with in high school straight?”

Janis thinks for a second. “Kevin?”

“No, he’s aroace,” Cady replies. “He just has a pet lizard.”

“Good for him,” Janis says. “I guess gays do kind of flock together. Must be pheromones or some shit.”

“Homomones,” Cady says absently, making Janis burst out laughing.

“Yeah,” She giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. “Anyway, did you have a good time?”

“I did. It was nice to see him again,” Cady says. “But I missed you.”

“Aww,” Janis coos. “I missed you too. I was supposed to be working on a new commission I got but I kept getting distracted and sketching you instead. Thanks for the coffee, Butterfly.”

“Ooh, can I see?” Cady asks. She loves Janis’ art, no matter how simple a sketch it may be. “And you’re welcome, my love.”

Janis hands over her sketchbook, open to a page covered in little doodles of Cady’s face.

“These are good, lovey!” Cady says as she flicks through a few pages. “There’s a lot of them, though.”

“Yeah, I get distracted a lot,” Janis mumbles. “But thanks. Glad you don’t think it’s creepy.”

“Of course not,” Cady chides. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cuter,” Janis challenges.

Cady kisses her to shut her up, not even slightly taking the bait. “Thank you. I’m gonna go change, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

-

Cady comes back quickly as she promised, but somehow different. She kisses Janis again in greeting and plops down next to her, tapping away on her phone.

“Welcome back,” Janis says jokingly. Cady either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care, not even looking up. “Butterfly?”

“Hm?” Cady hums.

“Did something happen?” Janis asks concernedly. She can’t tell if the furrow in Cady’s brow is from concentration or concern.

“Huh? Oh, no, everything is fine. I just have something to... work on,” Cady says. “I’ll be done in a while.”

“Oh. Okay,” Janis says suspiciously. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady replies, but she still doesn’t look up. It doesn’t sound like there’s any meaning behind the words this time. That’s concerning.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Janis asks.

“Yes, Janis, everything’s fine,” Cady huffs, sounding a bit irritated.

“Sorry. Just wanted to make sure,” Janis mumbles.

“Thank you, love, but I’m okay. I’ll tell you if something happens,” Cady says as she finally looks up.

“Okay,” Janis replies. Cady goes back to her phone then, continuing... whatever she’s up to.

Janis pulls out her own phone, playing a game Damian had gotten her hooked on.

“Lovey, would you please go get my charger?” Cady asks after about an hour and a half.

“Sure, baby,” Janis replies as she stands up to stretch. She heads to the bedroom to grab both chargers, coming back and plugging them into the wall. Hers doesn’t reach back to her spot, so she lies her head on Cady’s lap and resumes her scrolling.

“Thank you, Jellybean,” Cady replies, plugging her own phone in and continuing her activities as she strokes her other hand through Janis’ hair.

After another hour or so, Janis gets bored. She clicks her phone off and sits up, but crawls back to Cady for cuddles.

“Janis,” Cady huffs. “What are you doing?”

“I’m bored,” Janis whines. “Snuggle me.”

“Fine, come here,” Cady pulls her closer and lets Janis cuddle into her shoulder. Janis gets comfortable and closes her eyes, falling asleep almost immediately.

-

She wakes a couple hours later, checking hastily to make sure she hasn’t been drooling all over Cady’s shoulder. She hasn’t, luckily, but she seems to have stirred a few times before, because Cady tries to shush her back to sleep.

“I’m awake, Cads,” Janis replies. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, love. Did you have a nice nap?” Cady asks. She’s still working on her phone.

“Yeah,” Janis mumbles and cuddles back into her shoulder. “Still working?”

“I’m almost done,” Cady replies distractedly.

“Mmkay. What do you want for dinner?” Janis asks from her perch on her lap.

“Huh? Oh, can we have tacos? I bought the stuff the other day,” Cady says.

Janis nods, but makes no effort to move. “Sure, that sounds good.”

She sits for a few more minutes before she sits up, deciding to try to squeeze in a make out session before she goes to cook.

But Cady turns away. She tilts her head so Janis’ lips end up on her cheek. Janis whines in frustration.

“Caddy!”

“What, Janis?” Cady asks in exasperation.

Janis does her best puppy eyes. They aren’t quite as good as Cady’s, but they do the job well enough. “Pay attention to meeeeee.”

“Janis! This is important,” Cady says as she looks over Janis’ shoulder to continue working.

Janis’ face falls. More important than me? “Fine. I’m gonna go cook.”

“Janis, wait, I’m sorry,” Cady says, reaching for her again.

“It’s fine. You keep working,” Janis mumbles, leaving her alone as she heads into the kitchen.

-

Cady comes in sheepishly when she calls her to eat. “Love, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I just- I have a lot going on, I took it out on you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, baby. Don’t worry about it, I understand. Just tell me next time so I don’t push you like that,” Janis replies. “Now come eat.”

“I will. I love you,” Cady says, kissing Janis sweetly before taking her plate.

“I love you too,” Janis hums, kissing her back.

————-

Cady seems almost embarrassed for the next week or so, still upset with herself for making Janis sad. Janis tries to cheer her up, making it very clear she understands that Cady didn’t mean it, but Cady still seems nervous around her.

Cady feels like she should do something to make up for it. She hadn’t meant to ignore Janis like that, but Regina was trying to check that everything was ordered for the proposal. Cady wanted to step things up even further and had to tell her to order extra things. Then, an issue had come up with Cady’s card, so she’d had to fix that over text all with Janis asleep on her lap.

Janis had woken up at the worst possible moment. Cady was very much not in the mood for kissing by that point, but she knows she should have told Janis she was stressed rather than just turning away and continuing her work. Of course that had upset her.

So, Cady decides to make sushi for dinner. It’s Janis’ favorite food, and Cady thinks it had helped them start dating back in high school. She picks up the ingredients on her way home from classes and starts preparing everything while she waits for Janis to come home from work.

Cady doesn’t like sushi herself, so she makes her own ‘sashimi’ with plain rice and cooked chicken instead of the raw fish she uses for Janis’. Damian had a callback to go to and wouldn’t be home until late at night. She makes him some anyway and leaves it in the fridge with a sweet note.

“What’s up, fuckers?!” Janis calls as she slams the apartment door open. Cady jumps, nearly losing a finger to the sushi knife she was holding. She hopes that one day Janis will stop doing that every time she comes home. But, for now, it’s strangely endearing.

“I’m in the kitchen, Damian’s not home,” she replies once she’s recovered from the brief shock. “I have something for you.”

“Uh oh,” Janis replies as she takes off her boots and coat and heads into the kitchen. “Aww! You made sushi again?”

“Yeah. To make up for the other day. And because I love you,” Cady answers, showing off the maki rolls she had plated into a smiley face. “Tah-dah.”

Janis squeals, coming to hug her girlfriend. She had been a little concerned that Cady might’ve beaten her to a proposal.

“Thank you, Peanut,” Janis says. “I love you.”

“You’re welcome, mpendwa. I love you too. How was work?” Cady asks as she sits across from her at their tiny dining table.

“Good, actually,” Janis replies. “One of my kids actually brought me an apple after lunch.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Cady says. “Was it the gay one?”

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles in reply. She was one of the only openly gay teachers in her district, so she provided a safe space for a lot of her students. It was healing for her, in a way, to be what she needed at that age. “He told me to say hi to you, by the way.”

“They know about me?” Cady asks as she eats a bite of her special sashimi.

“They know I have a girlfriend, for sure,” Janis hums in reply. “If I had a dollar for every time they tell me to ‘shut up about your girlfriend, Ms. S,’ I could buy this whole complex. And I have pictures of you guys around, so I think they’ve pieced together who you are.”

“Aww. That’s so cute,” Cady coos, leaning over for a kiss.

“I’m glad you think so,” Janis chuckles as she kisses her back sweetly. “What about you, how was school? Did you finish that assignment you were working on?”

“Assign- oh. Yeah, I did,” Cady says, briefly confused until she remembers Janis thought she was working on schoolwork instead of her proposal plan that day. “But it’s for that one professor, so I probably won’t find out my grade until sometime during break.”

“That’s shit,” Janis says through a mouthful of sushi. “But good job, I bet you did great.”

“Thanks,” Cady chuckles. She uses her own chopsticks to feed Janis a piece of her sushi, and Janis does the same. Before they know it the food is gone, so Janis takes their dishes to the sink before coming to pick Cady up, carrying her to the bedroom for cuddles.

-

Christmas Eve finally rolls around a few weeks later. Cady and Janis are staying with their own families for the week, and they would fly home with Damian on Boxing Day.

Janis had told Cady she wanted to take her out for Christmas Dinner, so she borrows her mom’s car and heads to pick Cady up. It’s only been about three days since she’s seen Cady, but they’ve both missed each other.

“Janis!” Cady squeals, opening the door before Janis could even knock. She’s in a tight green top and dark dress pants, unknowingly matching Janis, who is in a red top and also in dark dress pants. Cady has on heels, though, to make it easier to kiss Janis.

“Hi, baby,” Janis chuckles, picking her up for a second and spinning them around. “Your carriage awaits.”

“Why thank you, my lady, shall we be off?” Cady replies in character with a giggle.

“Indeed,” Janis says.

-

They have a lovely meal at their favorite restaurant from high school, the same place they had eaten before their senior prom.

Cady holds Janis’ arm as they exit, the ring box burning a hole in her coat pocket. “Lovey? Do you want to walk a little? We’re not too far from that clearing you took me to on our first date, we could go there.”

“I was just going to say that,” Janis replies. “Let’s drive a little closer, it’s cold, but then we can walk.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Cady giggles. “Let’s go, it’s getting dark.”

Janis runs after her, as Cady hauls her across the parking lot.

-

They chat and reminisce about how far they’ve come as they walk through the woods, neither of them quite noticing that the snow has been cleared from the path they’re walking on.

Both of them grin when the clearing comes into view, each of them thinking they’re about to propose and the other has no idea.

Cady pauses in the middle, turning quickly to look around at the gorgeous set up she thinks Regina, Gretchen, and Karen have done, not knowing that Damian and Aaron also had a hand.

Lights are strung up through all the trees and bushes nearby, and candles light their way to a little altar, with a picture of the two of them together that says “Marry Me?” in what looks suspiciously like Gretchen’s best calligraphy. Snow is fluttering down around them, leaving cold little kisses on her face.

Cady is stunned when she turns back to find Janis on one knee behind her. She had known that they were probably going to be engaged by the time they left, but not that Janis would propose first.

She gasps in shock, covering her mouth with her hands as tears start pouring from her eyes.

“Caddy,” Janis begins, reaching for one of her hands. “Cady. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love you, how much you mean to me. You’ve changed me, changed my life, and it’s so, so much better with you in it. You make me want to stay. I don’t have the words to explain how thankful I am to have met you, and that I get to spend my life with you.”

Janis reaches into her pocket with her free hand and pulls out a ring box. Cady gasps again when she sees it. It’s a white gold band, made of two strands woven together. One strand is decorated with little diamonds, and there’s a larger one in the center of the ring. It’s absolutely beautiful.

“And I want to spend the rest of it with you, if you’ll have me. Cady Jane Heron, will you marry me?” Janis asks, holding up the ring.

Cady is almost crying too hard to speak at this point, but she manages to nod and barely choke out a “Yes, of course.”

She lets Janis slide the ring on her finger, choking back a sob, before she tackles Janis to the ground and weeps into her neck.

“Baby, please don’t cry so hard, why are you crying?” Janis asks in alarm, ignoring the fact that she’s lying in several inches of snow in favor of holding her fiancée closer.

“Because I love you,” Cady sobs. “I’m so happy.”

“I’m happy too, Peanut. Do you want to go look at what Damian did?” Janis asks.

Cady nods and rolls off of her but just holds Janis’ outstretched hand instead of using it to stand up herself.

“Baby, what are you- oh my god,” Janis says, confused until Cady also shifts to be on one knee. Cady uses her free hand to wipe the tears from under her eyes, sniffling and clearing her throat to try and get herself back under control.

“Janis, my love,” she begins after a moment. “I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to realize it, but I’ve loved you since I met you. I had no idea that the moment you saved me from that bathroom was the moment I met the love of my life. You are the most wonderful gift I’ve ever been given, and I treasure every moment I get to spend with you. I’m so excited for our forever; I love you so much. I know this is kind of a moot point now, but... Janis Olivia Sarkisian, will you marry me?”

Janis is absolutely full-on ugly crying by this point, mascara tracking down her face as she holds back sobs with her free hand. They’re technically already engaged, but she nods rapidly and sobs out a “Yes!”

Cady slides on Janis’ ring gently, a matching white-gold band, but more simple, with a single diamond in the center. Cady had also gotten the date they met, the date they started dating, and the date they got engaged engraved onto the inside of the band.

Janis hauls her up and crashes their lips together, kissing Cady so hard she thinks her lips might bruise as the cheers of their friends echo around them.

They both jump apart and scream as Regina leaps out from a bush, in a suit used by hunters and with her face even painted green. The rest of their friends also come out from behind various trees and shrubs, Damian climbing down from up above them and nearly falling to the ground until Aaron catches him.

Everyone comes to wrap them in a tight group hug, shouting their congratulations over one another. Regina stays out to take more photos before reluctantly coming and joining the cuddle.

“Reggie, what the fuck are you wearing?” Janis asks with a watery chuckle, still crying slightly.

“It’s called a ghillie suit. I didn’t want you to see me,” Regina answers as if it’s entirely normal for her to be covered in fake leaves and moss.

“We both knew you were coming, and it’s dark,” Cady replies, trying to hold back hysterical laughter. “You could have hidden behind a tree like everyone else.”

Regina apparently only realizes that now, scowling slightly. “Shit. Go big or go home, I guess.”

“Thanks, Reg,” Janis laughs. “Thank all of you.”

“Yeah, thank you guys! This really is beautiful,” Cady giggles. “God, Jay, did everyone know we were both going to do this except-“

“Us? Yeah, apparently,” Janis answers, hugging her again.

“Let us see the rings!” Karen calls, so they both extend their left hands for everyone to grab and coo over. Regina gets one more shot of Cady’s small hand resting in Janis’, showing off both of their engagement rings in a cute way.

“Okay, Damian and Aaron said they’d stay to clean this back up, Gina needs to go make herself... not green, and you two are probably going to go have wild sex somewhere, so I’m gonna take my girlfriends and go. Congratulations!” Gretchen cheers, hauling Regina and Karen away by the hand.

“Gretchen!” Regina scolds. “Congratulations, guys!”

“Yeah, congrats! Confetti emoji!” Karen calls over her shoulder.

Cady and Janis lock eyes once they’ve gone, both bursting into laughter. Gretchen was not wrong.

“Do you guys need us to stay for anything? I don’t want to leave you two here alone to clean up all of this,” Cady asks anxiously.

Damian and Aaron look at one another knowingly. “I think we’ll be fine, Cads.”

“Oh really? You’ll be fine here all alone? Have you two finally said it?” Janis teases.

Damian sticks his tongue out at her, but does reach for Aaron’s hand. “Yes. Are you satisfied now?”

Janis squeals and comes to hug him, Cady following quickly. “Good job, D, you finally got your hunk!”

“Yeah, yay!” Cady piggybacks. “But really, are you sure you don’t need help?”

“Cady, we’ll be fine. Go have your night with your fiancée,” Aaron says. Cady takes the poster from the altar, but is eventually persuaded to take Janis’ hand to lead them back to the car.

-

Cady had booked a fancy hotel room for the night, figuring she would either be having the night of her life with her fiancée or alone drowning her sorrows in ice cream and champagne.

Janis pins her to the bed instantly, tenderly removing her shirt and shoes as their lips meet again and again. Cady reaches to hold her head in place, before undoing the buttons on Janis’ shirt and flinging it across the room.

-

Janis pulls her close once they’re cleaned from their evening of passion, both of them wearing nothing but their rings (except Cady’s socks).

“We’re getting married, Janis,” Cady whispers excitedly. “You’re gonna be my wife.”

“Yeah, we are. And you’re gonna be my wife,” Janis replies, kissing her sweetly.

“I can’t believe this is what you were up to,” Cady huffs. “I knew you were being sneaky, I should’ve known.”

“You were the sneaky one! I thought you had some crazy homework assignment, I was wondering why you wouldn’t let me help you with anything,” Janis retaliates. Cady starts giggling then, seemingly at nothing. “What?”

“I just-I can’t believe we had the exact same idea,” Cady says between fits of laughter. “I was still surprised when you did yours because I thought everything was set up for mine.”

“Oh,” Janis says, laughing too. “I guess we’re just that in sync. We were meant to be.”

“Meant to be indeed,” Cady replies, pulling her down on top of her for another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Butterfly. When should we get married?” Janis asks.

“I’ve always wanted a spring wedding,” Cady hums. “Like, April or early in May, maybe. What about you?”

“I dunno, I never really... thought this would happen to me,” Janis hums. “I never had a dream wedding. A spring one sounds nice, we could do it outside. But do you really think we can plan a whole wedding that fast?”

“Aww, my love. I’m so glad I get to marry you,” Cady says sadly. “I think we could, if we really work on it. I don’t want anything crazy, and I don’t think you do either?” Janis shakes her head. “Yeah, so if we do something small, I think we can do it that fast. And if not, we’ll do it the next year.”

“God, no, I don’t want to wait anymore,” Janis breathes. “Even April sounds too far away.”

Cady smiles widely. “You’re too cute. I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” Janis teases. “We can plan more later. Come cuddle me.”

“I love you most. Fiancée,” Cady says in retaliation as she snuggles into Janis to go to sleep.

“Fiancée.” Janis replies, pecking her lips.

“Lovey.” Cady says, pecking her back.

“Baby.”

“Jellybean.”

“Butterfly.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Peanut.”

“Darling.”

“Kitkat.”

“Mpendwa.”

“Wait, I’ve always wondered what that means,” Janis replies. “And the other one, um-“

“Mpenzi? That means, like, love or partner, or favorite. Mpendwa means dear or dearest.”

“Oh. That’s cute,” Janis squeaks. “Mon coeur.”

“Aww, I’m your heart?” Cady coos. “How sweet, Bluejay.”

“You might as well be, I can’t live without you,” Janis says. “I love you.”

Cady cuddles impossibly closer, tipping her face up to kiss her again. “I love you so much. So, so much.”

“Goodnight, fiancée,” Janis says as she kisses her goodnight.

“Goodnight, fiancée,” Cady yawns back, nuzzling into her chest and falling into a blissful sleep, Janis following quickly.

I can’t wait to marry you.

-

hope you enjoyed!

requests are still open, please leave them either here, on my wattpad, or on my ao3. all are the same handle, maybeimamuppet. it may take a few weeks for your request to be published, but I am cranking them out as fast as I can and I will get to everyone's eventually.

thanks for reading!

lots of love,

ezzy

[libermachinae]

Fault Lines Under the Living Room

Part IV: Touch - Chapter 12: Stumble and Lost His Grip

Also available on AO3! Summary: Knocking on the front door didn’t work, so time to try the back. Word Count: 3,437

---

Scorch might have been as pleasant as the rust ruined dregs at the bottom of an oil can, but damn if Spur wouldn’t mind feeling that arrogant crackle of a laugh at the other end of his spark. A few jabs about how he’d teamed up with Autobots just like Grrder always warned he would with too-easy remark about how he got distracted by a smooth tread. Anything but the emptiness of stasis lock chilling him from the inside out. Add in the fact that they were racing narrowly by a straight plummet to a grisly death and this could easily rank among the top five worst days of his life.

He clung tighter to Drift’s roof, optics offline. If this was the end, he didn’t want to see it coming.

“Watch it,” Drift warned. Spur ignored him.

He’d had an alt-mode once, so long ago it was hard to remember now. He and Scorch had worked in construction setting up new plumbing infrastructure and had hated it. Even though he couldn’t remember what form he’d taken to do the job, he could still smell the insides of those tunnels and feel that wet heat weighing down on him. When the representative for Triple M had shown up on site, it hadn’t mattered that the foreman dragged him off before he could introduce himself. Spur and Scorch had been among the handful to roll up to the ramshackle unformatting clinic.

He justified the decision with a simple fact: everyone did stupid slag when they were young. His dumb idea also meant they weren’t in Ultrix when the sinkhole opened under the Ioreian neighborhood, and that they were among the first to know when Triple M leadership decided the Decepticons had the right idea. Or at least were on a better track than the Senate. Spur hadn’t paid much attention to the politics, that was more Scorch’s thing. Spur was more interested in survival, a simple goal that had become more complex the moment Drift had realized he didn’t have any wings or wheels of his own. That was how he found himself now with his fingers tight around the edges of Drift’s roof, squished flat with the wind tearing at his back plating, wishing for the untold time that he was about to wake up in his closet-sized hab back on the lunar base.

“Acknowledged,” Drift said. 

“What’s happening?” They hadn’t offered to patch Spur into their comm channel, and he hadn’t asked.

“Rodimus says we’ve got incoming.”

“Pitslag,” Spur muttered. He was so tired of getting shot at and beaten up and chased—

“Just keep your optics open.”

Which sounded like an awful idea, except Drift was very much in control of the momentum of Spur’s poorly armored body. He brought his optics online slowly, peering through a staticky haze, but nothing could disguise the depth of the canyon’s shadow, nor the sheer drop, which Drift’s tire edged along like a battlefield medic’s torch across a wound.

Against the ludicrously powerful engine underneath him, Spur failed to catch the moment the echoes started up from behind them, only realizing he was hearing something when Drift briefly slowed for a tight turn. The sounds overlapped, feeding into each other, but when he listened close he picked up a pattern: the ripple of a spring releasing, followed by the harsh thunk of a metal body hitting stone. He twisted, trying to catch a glimpse, but the darkness of the canyon hid its secrets well.

“On their way,” he said.

“I know.” Drift pulled a tight corner faster than he should have and started to tilt toward the edge; Spur felt his spark seize and threw his weight in the opposite direction.

“Gonna fraggin’ kill us!” he snarled.

“If not me, then it’ll be them. You want to choose which one?” Drift asked.

Another day, Spur might have considered the Decepticons. With the ground under his pedes and a blaster in his grip, he could handle himself. He might not have been able to fight so well, but he could make a stand, which was often all his superiors had asked of him. Something had happened to Scorch, though, and since Spur wasn’t about to reveal his biggest weakness to a bunch of pseudo-Autobots (even  one had saved his life), he was stuck with them until he could find somewhere to slip away.

The first blaster bolt that pinged off the wall behind him had him wondering if there were any right choices in this mess.

“Slag!” Drift swore as the second shot clipped his side mirror. “They’re on us!”

Spur twisted again. He mistook them for Insecticons at first, with their twisted bodies and spring-loaded legs, but as one dug its thick claws into a wall with a heavy thunk, it revealed a small pilot crouched within.

Bang!

A pilot with a decent aim.

“Scrap, scrap!” he swore, his voice tilting up as he felt Drift slow further. “No, what are you doing? Speed up! They’re shooting at us!”

“Get off.” Drift didn’t wait and transformed as he pulled to a stop, dumping Spur onto the ground. Both took evasive actions as the plasma bolts rained down, Spur wedging himself behind a boulder while Drift took up the annoying hoppy thing he’d done to evade them back on Vitrious.

“Rodimus!” Drift barked. “I know, but we’re getting shot right now!”

Spur wanted to know why that was only an unimportant detail when he was the one pointing it out, but his attention was quickly grabbed by another sound pushing into their canyon, drowning out even the blasterfire: an interstellar speeder descending directly on top of their pursuers.

The Decepticons, startled by this new development, broke formation. One released his hold on the wall and dropped out of sight, apparently uninterested in dealing with Drift’s reinforcements. The others regrouped, one continuing his assault on Drift and Spur while the second twisted in his perch on the wall, apparently with the intention to latch onto the ship itself.

“Down!” Drift shouted.

Instead, the speeder tilter up and to the side, slamming into the assailant before he’d engaged his claws. He went tumbling end over end after his teammate, which would have felt more like a win if Spur wasn’t still ducking from blasterfire that rained shrapnel down on his helm.

“Will you do something?!” he demanded.

“I’m—trying!” Drift’s words were labored, popping between bursts of gunfire. Spur questioned, not for the first time, what he had done to earn luck so bad his captor was a swordsmech. “Rodimus, watch—”

Spur was still ducking, so he didn’t see exactly what happened, but there was a bang accompanied by the shriek of tearing metal. The engine swung closer before it dipped away again.

“No!”

And then the sounds of the battle fading, falling. Spur stayed frozen, hands clutching his helm, waiting for an explosion or another burst of gunfire that never came. After several minutes, he brought his optics online and peeked over his shoulder.

Gone. The lot of them all disappeared.

On legs that were still trembling from the force of the gunshots, Spur stood and stepped out from his cover. His tiptoed to the edge of the canyon but stopped before he was close enough to look down. He hadn’t heard a crash yet, which implied they were still falling; that was a long, long way down.

He hesitated, listened close. He took two steps back and turned aside, walking, at a much more reasonable pace, in the direction he’d already been headed. It was very quiet, down inside this lonely canyon on this almost empty hunk of rock. He tugged again on the thread tied to his spark, hoping that this would be the one that revealed he wasn’t alone anymore.

~*~

Drift had been accused in the past of not thinking before he leapt. It would have looked that way, had anyone been watching as he sailed through the air folded into the jet stream of the plummeting shuttle. The assumption overlooked the fact that he had considered all of this well in advance, and he had decided, regardless of their easily broken promises, he would do everything in his power to get his friends out unharmed.

Despite the damage, the shuttle’s engines were still functioning, and it was fighting to stay airborne, bucking against its unwanted passenger. Drift almost shot past but managed to grab a service handle, wincing as the shuttle’s violent movements wrenched his delicate repairs.

“Rodimus!” he shouted, not sure comms would cover up the roar of the air and the shuttle’s engines. “Calm down! I’m taking care of this!”

“Slag, Drift, hurry!”

Drift startled. He wasn’t used to hearing Rodimus like that. As if sensing his confusion, Ratchet chimed in.

“That thing’s nearly punctured through the shuttle’s inner walls,” he said. “Rodimus is scared the rider’s going to find his way inside.”

Which was, of course, the one thing they could not allow to happen and the entire reason Drift had told them not to come. It was only concern for Rodimus’ safety that got him to withhold his anger for later, focusing on what he could do instead of what he wished he’d done. The shuttle stopped its thrashing, which gave Drift an opportunity to pull himself against its side and start climbing the short ladder. He was almost to the top when he ducked, just avoiding a blaster shot between the optics.

“Frag off!” he yelled.

No response from the canyon crawler pilot. Drift didn’t understand why he hadn’t disengaged yet and wondered if it was a mechanical failure. The rigs weren’t designed to bore into spacecraft, and it was possible he had accidentally fused it to the shuttle.

“Rodimus, what’s he doing?” Drift asked.

“I don’t know; I can’t see! Half your cameras are busted!”

Drift switched to his other channel.

“Calm him down,” he demanded.

“I’m trying,” Ratchet said. “The kid’s stressed.”

Drift bristled.

“He’s not a kid,” he snapped, then cut the comm and launched himself over the shuttle.

The tick wasn’t expecting another attempt so soon or so suddenly. His shot landed somewhere behind Drift, the gun ripped from his hand before he’d finished releasing the trigger. He cowered within his metal exoskeleton, the entire contraption shivering as it tried to pry itself from the inner workings of the shuttle.

Drift didn’t stop to think about it. He wrapped his hands under the upper jaw of the crawler and wrenched it open, griding its fangs back through the punctures it had made. Freed of his captive, the small Decepticon immediately tried to reengage, snapping the crawler’s trap shut and almost crushing Drift’s fingers in the process. Drift tried to hold on, but in his effort to save his hand, he accidentally aimed the crawler’s spring legs at himself. They kicked into his abdomen, causing him to stumble and lose his grip entirely.

“No!”

The metal cage went flying, sucked into the air current before tumbling down into the abyss, Drift watching it go from his place atop the shuttle.

He hesitated a nanoklik. Then it was too late to do anything. Drift stared at the place the bot had vanished and turned on his comms, but he didn’t know what to say.

“Drift?” Rodimus said. “I kinda saw what happened. You alright?”

It was a long drop, and the shuttle wasn’t moving slowly. If the crawler came with an eject function, the bot might get lucky and land on something pliable, but more likely he was riding it all the way down. Drift tried to muster up an answer to Rodimus’ question, but nothing came to mind. The exhaustion that dogged his frame came back in full force, but that was so normal he doubted it was worth mentioning.

“Are you injured?” Rodimus pressed.

“No,” Drift said honestly. He sunk down, reattaching himself to the side of the speeder. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing.” He had spent months practicing the most rigid self-control of his life, keeping slavers and imperialists and megalomaniacs alive long enough to deliver them to justice. He’d made every thrust with precision, every grapple a little less than his full strength, and now that it appeared his efforts were at an end, he felt nothing. He’d thought that his first kill—because it had always been inevitable that he would go back to his old ways eventually—would provoke guilt or grief. But he didn’t feel anything.

“You’re going to get Grit,” Rodimus said. “You’re protecting Vitrious.”

Allegedly. If he didn’t care about this, had he ever cared about Vitrious? Was all that scrap about slavers and the betrayal of the Cause just an excuse for him to indulge the anger he had kept hidden under a red badge?

“Why are you here, Rodimus?” he asked. “Forget Ratchet and the Enigma. Why did you agree to come?” He wasn’t sure that answer would matter any more than the rest, but he was tired of being in his own head. He needed something else.

“To bring you back to the Lost Light,” Rodimus said.

“But why?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Rodimus.” If there was a growl in his voice, it was because he couldn’t be bothered to hold it back anymore.

“W—what do you want from me?” Rodimus asked. Despite the stress in his voice, the shuttle kept on a smooth course. “Do you want me to say that it’s for some selfish reason, that I was doing it for myself and my personal glory again? I’ve gotten a lot of practice with—I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“I want you to be honest with me,” Drift said. “If we’re going to risk our lives for each other, I need to know why.” Everything had a price. He’d learned that years ago, and that the only way to get anywhere in the world was to set your own as high as you could. This was probably the most he could ask of Rodimus, and he still didn’t know if it would be enough. And yet for a moment, it didn’t seem like Rodimus would be able to pay. The silence stretched out, waiting, until Drift very nearly told Rodimus to carry them back up to the ledge so he could drive himself the rest of the way.

“I thought about being a hero,” Rodimus said. His voice was quiet. “I had dreams about bringing you back to the Lost Light and telling you everyone had forgiven you and giving you everything you deserved afterward. I would give you your life back, with interest. Anything you wanted. But it wouldn’t be like that, and I knew it. So then, I was afraid.”

Afraid simply of disappointment, or something more specific? Drift didn’t have a chance to ask, because Rodimus barreled on.

“That’s why I didn’t come to get you sooner,” he said. “I was scared. Getting you back would mean facing up to all of my mistakes, when before you were always the one who let me feel like I was doing everything right. When Ratchet told me he was coming to find you, it made me realize that I needed to get over that. Much as I appreciate what you did for me before, I wanted you back more than the things you did for me.”

“I already told you I didn’t leave for you,” Drift said, because Rodimus sounded sincere, but it wouldn’t mean anything if he was still sequestered in the fantasies Drift had built around him.

“I know,” Rodimus said, “but I’m talking about all of it: the Lost Light, the speeches, just telling me that I was doing a good job. You did so much for me.”

“I didn’t,” Drift insisted. “It was—it wasn’t about you, Rodimus. It was about everyone else. They needed you to be someone and I did everything in my power to make sure you were that person. I…” Fear and shame and something like self-loathing curled inside Drift, but he shoved past them because fuck it. He couldn’t go back to the Lost Light under more false pretenses, and if that meant he couldn’t go back at all…

He already knew better than to rely on himself first.

“I needed you to be that person,” he said. “I did it for me.”

A longer silence descended over the comms. The canyon was narrowing around them; Rodimus would need to ascend soon.

“Ratchet’s right,” Rodimus finally said, apparently unaware that Drift hadn’t been privy to whatever conversation the two had just shared. “I don’t have any room to complain when I was doing pretty much the same thing. You were doing what you had to, right?”

“I’m not sure how you want me to answer that,” Drift said honestly.

“Right, never mind.” Rodimus still sounded nervous. “What I really want to say is that, um, I get it. I think. We all set off on this quest for our own reasons, and most of them don’t really align at all. And—Prowl aside—it’s because our goals were so different that we—us two, but I guess Ratchet also a little bit—that we ended up out here. If we want to find the Knights, or save Vitrious, or just watch out for each other, I think we could stand to be more honest with each other about why we’re doing those things.”

Rodimus sounded reasonably confident about that, but Drift wasn’t so sure. He had no way to know whether Rodimus could handle the version of him that was more honest. Rodimus cared about his crew; Drift had seen that and knew it to be true. But he also cared about himself, and his tendency toward inflating his own ego wasn’t something that would be fixed by promise alone.

“You could start by answering my question,” he said.

“Question?”

“Why you came out here.”

“Oh. I mean, I think it’s straightforward: it’s because I missed you.”

“You don’t really know me,” Drift warned. Rodimus had asked for honesty.

“I’ve learned a lot recently,” Rodimus said. “And I want to get to know you more. Even if it’s not what I was expecting, you’re still my friend and my crewmate. No matter what. You could tell me you step on organics for fun and you’d still have a place on my—on our ship.”

Drift pulled a face.

“Ew.”

“Yeah, bad joke, bad timing,” Rodimus agreed, so casual Drift knew it had to be an act. “But that’s the other thing: Ratchet’s going to be on my aft this time. He’s looking out for you, too, and he’s not going to let me make the same mistakes twice.”

Drift and Ratchet might have only come back on speaking terms in the last few years, but Drift had trusted Ratchet for just over five million. Maybe it tipped the scales unfairly in Rodimus’ favor, but when Drift imagined the scenario Rodimus was building, it sounded good. Good enough that it was risky to trust. Good enough that he might never stop watching out for signs of the end. But maybe, if they were working together, he could trust the three of them to try.

“Okay,” he decided. “I can try. That’s all I can promise, though. I’ve got all the same hangups you do in making a commitment. That’s going to mean a lot of different things, and some of them aren’t so easy to manage.” It was possible that just stepping back onto the Lost Light would cause him to try to fold back into the third in command role he’d built for himself, though he didn’t know for sure; it was rare for him to be able to return to a life he’d left behind.

“Have you met me? Or Ratchet?” Rodimus asked. “None of us are ‘easy to manage.’ Doesn’t mean we’re not worth the effort.”

“You’re starting to sound like him,” Ratchet cut in. “Drift, you staying back?”

“I’m fine, Ratchet,” Drift assured him. The shuttle had begun to rise, bringing them back up to the level they’d been on when the patrol found them. They were nearly within sensor range of the base. Soon enough, he’d be on his own again.

“Stay that way,” Ratchet warned. “Don’t need you getting wrapped up in this mess.”

In a way, he already was, Drift mused, and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not yet. As the ship crested near a reasonably drivable cliff, he stood, preparing to dismount.

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr | Also on AO3

Chapter 59: Statement of what comes now.

[CLICK]

[PANTING BREATHS, ECHOING SLIGHTLY, THAT SLOWLY EVEN OUT]

JON

Wh-what…what…?

Martin! Martin, where—where are you? I can’t—oh, God, I can’t see anything, I can’t—did that—

(in a different tone of voice) Martin? Are you here?

[ECHOING SILENCE]

JON

…Okay. Okay, this—this isn’t reality. This isn’t—he’d be here if I was—

Right. Okay.

(more loudly) Hello? Hello, is anyone out there?

[MORE SILENCE]

JON

W-wait…wait, is that—there’s something—okay, okay, I’m not blind, it’s just…dark. I can cope with that.

Right, okay. Think, Jon. After what you just did…if you’re not in the Institute, if you’re not in the world you’re used to, then you’re probably…somewhere else. So things are going to follow dream logic, right?

Right. Dream logic. (sigh) So I suppose I go looking for a switch.

[ODD CHITTERING, BUZZING NOISE THAT SUDDENLY STOPS]

JON

Oh, for—there has got to be away around this. No light switch, no walls, and I don’t trust the floors, so…

What am I supposed to do, say “Let there be light”?

[LOUD THUNKING NOISE, LIKE SOMEONE SWITCHING ON STAGE LIGHTS, OR AT LEAST A SPOTLIGHT]

JON

Seriously?

(frustrated sigh) Well, at least I can see now. I—wait. What in the—who’s there?

[A VOICE BEGINS SINGING SLOWLY, FAINTLY AT FIRST BUT SLOWLY GETTING LOUDER]

ANNABELLE

One elephant went out to play Upon a spider’s web one day She had such enormous fun She called for another elephant to come…

JON

You have got to be kidding me.

(resigned sigh) Right, here we go…

[ODD NOISE STARTS UP AGAIN, PUNCTUATED BY STICKY RIPPING SOUNDS, FADING IN AND OUT AS IF RESPONDING TO PRESSURE…OR FOOTSTEPS]

ANNABELLE

Hello, Jon.

JON

Annabelle Cane. Why am I not surprised?

ANNABELLE

You don’t sound pleased to see me.

JON

Let’s just say yours is not the first face I wanted to see when I woke up.

ANNABELLE

I have good news for you, then. It isn’t. You’re not awake.

JON

Oh, you can invade dreams now too, can you?

ANNABELLE

You aren’t asleep, either. And I think you already knew that.

JON

Oh, goddammit.

[A MOMENT OF SILENCE, SAVE THE FAINT ODD CHITTERING NOISE]

JON

…Wait. That noise, that’s—

And it gets louder every time we—

[CHITTERING SUDDENLY GETS LOUDER, WITH A FEW CLEAR WORDS HERE AND THERE, THEN FADES AGAIN]

JON

Are these tapes?

ANNABELLE

A fine material to spin a web with, don’t you think?

JON

It’s you.

A-all this time, all these—the recorders, the, the tapes…it’s all been you?

ANNABELLE

Well, not all me. Not all of it, anyway.

The Mother of Puppets has always collected stories. There are more reasons than one it’s called spinning a tale, you know. And spiders…it’s so hard to keep them out of places. People don’t generally call exterminators for them. Not for only one or two, and not if they don’t seem dangerous.

So yes. The Web has been lurking about the Magnus Institute, and the Archives, nearly as long as there has been an Institute. Listening. Drawing from the stories. Weaving a tapestry that tells the history of the world…and its future.

But this web? This one is mine.

JON

The tapes I recorded…

ANNABELLE

Oh, yes. All the tapes since you became the Archivist are here. Listen to this!

[A SQUEAL, THEN A CLEAR PLAY OF THE TAPE FROM MAG 000.2 - PRE-LAUNCH TRAILER]

ARCHIVIST ON TAPE

It’ll get you too. You can stare all you want, make your notes and your inquiries, but all your beholding will come to nothing. When the time arrives, and all is darkness and butchery, you’ll wish you had stopped listening and run.

[ANOTHER STICKY SOUND, LIKE SOMEONE PULLING OFF AN ADHESIVE BANDAGE]

JON

(shocked) That—that was—I only did that one as a test, to—to see if the recorders would work…

ANNABELLE

And they did. Admirably.

Go on. Try one.

JON

Look, I don’t—

ANNABELLE

You’re curious, aren’t you? You want to know.

There is no time here. Not really. No hurry. No pain. Nothing can hurt you if you indulge your curiosity a little bit. And it might not be so easy to believe once you leave.

Pick a strand. All you have to do is touch it, like so—

[ANOTHER SQUEAL, AND THEN ANOTHER RECORDING BEGINS TO PLAY FROM MAG 22 - COLONY]

MARTIN ON TAPE

—wasn’t anything to do with spiders that ended up after me. Almost wish it had been. (nervous laugh) I like spiders. Big ones, at least—

[RECORDING CUTS OFF WITH STICKY SOUND AGAIN]

ANNABELLE

—and you can hear them.

JON

He doesn’t anymore, you know.

ANNABELLE

Like spiders? Oh, believe me, I know.

I don’t think he’s liked them since he found out what happened to you. Not that I can blame him, of course. How do you feel about clowns these days? Or being alone?

JON

I—

ANNABELLE

Go on, Jon. Touch one. It doesn’t have to be…fresh.

JON

Why are some of these—

Is that…ash?

ANNABELLE

Dust, mostly.

(considers) Well, some of it might be ash. It depends on why that section of web isn’t used anymore.

JON

(tartly) I didn’t know being obscure and mysterious was in the Web’s domain.

ANNABELLE

It is if you want to manipulate somebody who’s addicted to knowledge.

Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to manipulate you. It’s just a habit at this point, really.

JON

…Fine.

[A COUPLE OF CAREFUL STICKY, CHITTERING FOOTSTEPS, THEN A SOFT SQUEAL BEFORE A RECORDING SHARPENS IN, FROM MAG 134 - TIME OF REVELATION]

PETER ON TAPE

What does—puzzle me though, and I mean that genuinely, is—why you were piling tape recorders onto the coffin while Jon was in there.  (brief pause) It’s a question, Martin, it’s—it’s not an accusation.

MARTIN ON TAPE

I don’t know. And I just – felt like it might help. He’s always recording, and I thought it—it might help him…find his way out.

PETER ON TAPE

Interesting. Were you compelled?

MARTIN ON TAPE

I don’t know. Maybe? I-I, I definitely wanted to do it.

[RECORDING FADES OUT ON THE LAST WORD]

JON

(shocked) Th-that, that was—that hasn’t happened, that didn’t happen…

ANNABELLE

This time.

JON

You knew? When, when I met you at Hill Top Road, when you…you knew I’d come back from the future.

ANNABELLE

Of course.

You and Martin, your Martin, you came back after Jonah Magnus made you end the world. The Keeper of the Light led you to a door, that led you through some halls, that led you to another door, that led you…back. To get—

JON

—a second chance.

ANNABELLE

A second chance? Hardly.

JON

And just what is that supposed to mean, exactly?

ANNABELLE

Only that.

JON

…Fine. F-fine. Be mysterious and vague. See if I care.

[ANNABELLE LAUGHS KNOWINGLY]

JON

How do you know…the tapes. You just told me you’ve been listening to the tapes. Martin made his statement about those halls—

ANNABELLE

But you didn’t.

You haven’t talked about what your journey was like to anyone, have you? Not even Martin. He knows you came through the same halls, but not what you saw. He doesn’t know that for you, there were no colors and no changes, that every hallway was the same and there was no way to tell when you were getting closer, until you reached that long tunnel.

The one with the glass walls and ceiling, like an underwater aquarium. With dark shapes you couldn’t make out pressing against the outside, trying to get your attention. With thousands of whispering voices, over one another, so hard to make out, pleading, promising, coaxing. Offering you anything you desired if you would only make it stop, blaming you for their suffering, demanding how you could just walk on by as if—

JON

Stop.

ANNABELLE

You didn’t know you were recording, either. You’ve grown so used to those recorders that you didn’t even notice them anymore. And yet, I was listening.

JON

You were—what?

Y-you—you’re from the future, too!

ANNABELLE

Mm. That’s more complicated than you think it is.

JON

How did you know what we were doing?

ANNABELLE

Because I set it in motion.

JON

…You…you what? Those halls, that—that portrait gallery, that—

ANNABELLE

Which one?

JON

Which—both of them. The ones that—that Martin had to face.

You said you listened to the tapes, you—

ANNABELLE

I did. And I was…shadowing you both, I suppose.

You never wondered how I was at Salesa’s, did you? Not why I was there, how I was there.

JON

I…to be honest, I don’t remember much about those days.

ANNABELLE

I don’t mean while you were there. I mean after. You never thought about how I could have ended up outside my own domain, let alone outside the Apocalypse altogether.

JON

I tried to think about you as little as possible.

ANNABELLE

(heh) I’d be hurt if I didn’t understand completely. I suppose if I’d been lucky enough to escape the Spinner of Webs, I’d want nothing to do with any of her children either.

But you know the rules of the Apocalypse, Jon. It never occurred to you to wonder how a Watcher could stray from their domain?

JON

Martin did. And Helen. They both—

[STATIC CRACKLES; IT’S THE ARCHIVIST’S STATIC, BUT IT SOUNDS UNUSUAL IN A WAY THAT’S DIFFICULT TO PINPOINT]

JON

The Distortion never truly left its domain. Never went far from its doors. And while the domains we saw Helen in were seemingly those of other fears, they all had at least an element of the Spiral in them.

Martin was in the unique position of being both Watcher and Watched. He had the domain he oversaw, small though it was, but he was also, perhaps, the only sufferer in a domain that belonged to me as me and not me as the Eye itself. He could walk the world unharmed because what hurt him was watching my pain and power grow in equal measure, the suffering of not knowing what I would choose in the end.

And you…

Your domain was like Daisy’s. It was the other domains, woven through them like a silken thread, a subtle tug of manipulation. It was the tapes that kept recording our journey and the tugs that led us to people we tried to help or conquer and a thousand tiny maneuverings to keep us moving ahead.

[STATIC FADES; JON GASPS SLIGHTLY]

JON

That…that shouldn’t have felt like that.

ANNABELLE

You’re a bit far from the Eye here. But to be fair, so am I.

JON

We’re in the middle of your fucking web!

ANNABELLE

But my web. Not the Web.

Any power the Mother of Puppets has here is residual, and comes through me. Any power the Ceaseless Watcher has here is residual, and comes through you. I brought the web to show you, to help you understand, but it doesn’t belong here any more than we do.

JON

You were—you were manipulating those tunnels. To…what? Slow us down?

ANNABELLE

To help. Well, you didn’t need it, but Martin…

JON

Martin is stronger than you think.

ANNABELLE

Do you know whose domain that was?

JON

The Spiral’s. Of course.

ANNABELLE

And the Eye. Together.

Together they hung that gallery of accusation, the paintings that all seemed to hold Martin responsible for their deaths. His friends, his family…strangers he never met but felt responsible for. Its purpose was to keep Martin lost—disorientated and in crippling pain and anguish. Forever.

If he had kept going down that corridor, he would never have found the door to the past. And the Keeper would never have been able to find him. Both of them had too much of the Lonely in them—just enough to keep them both isolated and searching. If they didn’t know where to meet.

JON

(whispers) My God.

They—they knew what we were trying to do. Of course they did. And they didn’t—

ANNABELLE

It’s not about foresight. Neither of them really have that. That domain was a mix of the Spiral and the Eye. It’s just what it was designed for, that’s all.

JON

That’s all? It was more than enough.

So which did you—

(with horrified realization) The paintings of me. You did that.

ANNABELLE

To remind him.

JON

Of what, for God’s sake?

ANNABELLE

In part, of what he had to prevent—what he had to stop from happening. What you’d been through and he had to make sure didn’t happen. In part, it was letting him experience your pain. He’d heard what you went through, of course, but to actually see it…in so many ways, that would make it worse, and make his determination stronger.

And, of course, part of it was just putting you back in his mind over everyone else. It was the last little…anchor tethering the two of you together, to the past. Something to keep him present so the Keeper could find him.

JON

And show him that last painting. Thankfully.

Did you know about that one?

ANNABELLE

I put that one there, too.

Surely you didn’t think the Keeper knew enough to have done it.

JON

I—n-no, no, but—

Why?

ANNABELLE

Why show it to him?

JON

Why that moment?

ANNABELLE

Because it wasn’t on tape.

I left you alone while you were in Scotland, up until the end. You two deserved a few weeks…unobserved. Alone together. To figure out what you are to one another.

Actually, I had quite a job keeping the Distortion distracted so it wouldn’t pop in and interrupt. It was something of a challenge.

The first time, anyway.

JON

The first time?

ANNABELLE

Oh, we’ve done this dance before. In its fashion.

JON

What dance?

ANNABELLE

The Apocalyptic Tango, I think Martin called it once.

[JON SIGHS IN EXASPERATION]

JON

Do you ever give a straight answer? Or tell the truth?

ANNABELLE

I’m hurt! I’ve been nothing but honest with you this whole time.

JON

(dry as the Sahara) And the other times?

ANNABELLE

Mostly you wouldn’t have believed me.

I did try a time or two. You always insisted it wasn’t possible, or that there must be some sort of catch. You only believed me once, and even then, I don’t think you believed. You simply wanted it to be true.

JON

Are you trying to get me to compel the truth out of you?

ANNABELLE

The way you did Peter Lukas? Or…which one was it? Breekon?

You don’t need to force it, you know. All you have to do is…ask nicely, and I will spin you the tale.

JON

…

Statement of Annabelle Cane, regarding the Web’s plan. Recorded direct from subject…ah…

ANNABELLE

At the end.

JON

…Statement begins.

ANNABELLE

This is the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

These are the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the blade that cut the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the hero that wielded the blade that cut the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

This is the story that begged to be told of the hero that wielded the blade that cut the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

So few of the things that are Fear are gifted with foresight. The End, of course, knows what will come, because the End is inevitable. All things end, sooner or later. The Web cannot see the future but it can see…patterns. The threads of a story, and what they will be when they weave together.

When the Mother of Puppets first saw the crack beneath Hill Top Road, she thought she understood what it was. A hole in reality, a portal between universes. Places where fear had not touched, where it was not known. But then she saw it for what it was. A crack, not in space, but in time. A way to move between moments. And she began to plan For she saw the threads, and she knew that someday, someone would end the world. And when that happened…eventually, all would end. Even fear cannot last forever, in a world where nothing new is born. Eventually, all must end.

Her plan has been the same, for years. Generations. Choose a champion, mark them young. Put them in the path of a fear, and wait. Then, should the world end at the hands of that fear, tug that champion to cut the strings of fate and send all bound up in it through the crack…and back in time. Back in time enough that they could stop it.

And really, it should have worked.

To a point, it did work. Again, and again, and again, and again. Jonah Magnus sent you his ritual, you read it, the world came to an end. You tried to repair it. You walked to London…and there it got complicated.

The trouble is the Spinner’s plan depended, in the end, on your choice. We told you that you would have had to simultaneously blow up the Archives and stab Jonah Magnus, and then all would have been thrown back in time. In truth, that would not have worked—not if Jonah was still the Eye’s Pupil. It had to be you. You had to choose to take his place…and then have the tethers cut. Then, and only then, would you be sent back with the knowledge to alter things.

Sometimes I told you the original story, that it was a crack in reality and would send all the fears somewhere else, or scatter them across worlds. Once or twice I told you the truth. As I said, it was so hard for you to believe me, regardless of what I spun. Mostly you thought I was manipulating you, lying to you, trying to get you to doom a thousand other worlds. Occasionally you thought it would end the world faster. Only once did you believe me—in a time when I came to you in a cabin in what was once Scotland, a time when I knew you would not act if you did not know you could turn back time, a time when the man you loved turned back for his umbrella and understood what he was hearing and tried to save you and the world.

JON

No…

ANNABELLE

It never quite worked, in the end. Time and again, the strings would be cut, the world would snap back…and time and again, we would retread the same paths. Over and over. So little I could change, so little I could do differently before the Apocalypse and I tried to find a new way to get you to be in position to be dragged back.

Finally, finally, it happened. You tried to take Jonah Magnus’ place, to hasten the end and starve the fears…it would never have worked, of course, but you tried. Martin anticipated it, though, he tried to stop you before you killed Jonah, to delay you while the others lit the fuse. You were faster than he thought, though, and had already become the Pupil of the Eye. You told him to go. To save himself. But Martin would not leave you, despite the danger. Rather than watch him die for nothing, you told him to cut the tether. And he did.

It worked the way the Web intended, of course it did. But for you to remember and be able to fix it, you would have both had to be alive when you came through at the other side. Even one of you would have been enough. But when I woke again and plucked the strand of the Web, I could hear that neither of you remembered.

Neither of you had survived.

[JON MAKES A PAINED NOISE OF DISTRESS]

ANNABELLE

It was then that I realized that Mother’s plan depended too heavily on precise timing. She wanted me to try again, of course. Strangely enough, the Fears never knew it had happened, not even the Web. But she reminded me, again and again, about her plan, told me what strings to pull.

This time, though…this time I thought I’d try something a bit different.

I did what I have done every other time. I stayed with Salesa, I spoke to you both. I followed your progress through the tapes, and when you disappeared beneath the tunnels…I acted. As I promised him, I killed him, and I took his camera. I brought it to London, to the Institute…to the Panopticon. But this time, I brought it up to the belly of the beast. I took it to the office of Jonah Magnus.

The camera wasn’t strong enough to dispel the entire Apocalypse there, of course. But it created enough of a hole to break Jonah free of the Eye’s hold.

He was as pleased to see me as you might expect. Demanded to know what I was doing there. And I told him. I told him I had come to warn him.

JON

What?!

ANNABELLE

I told him that his precious Archivist was far from resigned to this new world he had brought about, that he was coming to stop it. To stop him. I said that you were bringing Martin with you and that you had a plan, and if he wanted to continue his reign, he’d best do something to stop it.

JON

Did you have any idea what that something would be?

ANNABELLE

Patterns. Of course I knew.

Jonah would never have harmed you, even if he could have; he still hoped to get you on his side. As you learned tonight. On the other hand, he would have known, or at least guessed, that the only thing stopping you from joining him was Martin. And even if he couldn’t hope to win you over by separating you…he would at least have found a way to use that bond against you.

JON

(shouting) Martin could have died because of you!

ANNABELLE

Perish the thought! My dear Jon, do you know know how many times I’ve been through this loop?

Even when I filled him with spiders, there has never been a time you could bring yourself to harm him in the slightest, let alone kill him. Faced with a choice between letting him die or getting revenge, I knew you would save him. Of course he wouldn’t have died.

[JON SPUTTERS INDIGNANTLY]

ANNABELLE

And I made sure you had somewhere to recover. I had already nudged the Keeper towards that door.

He couldn’t have done it, of course; he was too tightly bound to the Light—not the Lonely, not the fear he watched over, but the Light itself. If it fell, so would he, and he cannot leave it for long. Even if he had come back, he would have been unable to make a difference in anyone’s past. But of course he thought of the Archivist. His godson. And when you thought Martin might be taken from you, you experienced the precise fear that summoned one of his doors—the fear of being forever separated from the one you love.

Perhaps the original plan would have worked eventually. Perhaps someday you, or Martin, or both of you, would have survived long enough to awaken in the past and remember. But I think it’s better this way, don’t you? Much more…direct.

And look how much you’ve spared the others from.

JON

The others—G-Georgie, Melanie, Basira—in, in that timeline, the one Martin and I left. Did they…what happened to them?

ANNABELLE

The Keeper and I took care of that. Don’t worry.

After he saw you safely through, I introduced myself to him and told him what needed to happen. He fetched Basira and took her to the tunnels beneath the Institute, and then I came myself. I told them what Jonah had done, what you had done, and what they needed to do.

I gave them the choice. The same one I often gave you. I told them they could either…let things stay as they were, allow things to die out in time, and keep apart from it, or end it. Take out Jonah Magnus and blow up the Institute simultaneously, and send all the Fears back in time as well—the Fears, and any of us too tightly bound up in them to survive without them.

I know you won’t believe me, Jon, but I never influenced them to make the choice they did. Basira did ask me what they usually chose, and I did tell her that I had never known them to choose anything other than one option, but I didn’t tell her what it was. I knew it would be important for you to know that, whatever they chose, it was their decision and their decision alone.

JON

(heh) I can’t imagine Melanie not choosing the option that allows her to kill Elias.

[ANNABELLE LAUGHS]

ANNABELLE

Neither can I. And she didn’t choose differently.

As I understand it, Melanie made her way up alone—being blind, of course, the fearful things on those stairs could not affect her—while Basira provided a distraction and Georgie lit the gas aflame. Melanie took the camera and aimed it at Jonah Magnus to bring him down, and then while he tried to belittle her, she stabbed him, just as the building blew.

JON

And then what happened? Did they survive?

ANNABELLE

I don’t know. But they succeeded, or I wouldn’t be here.

JON

…

How many others has the Web done this to? Tried to—manipulate into a savior?

ANNABELLE

Oh, I don’t know. Hundreds?

Most of them would have failed. Many never made it beyond her. I was one of them, actually, a child tested out but ultimately found lacking, although I was the only one I think she would have trusted with this. But you…the Mother of Puppets saw the threads of your life. So many Fears noticed you as a child that you were bound to fall afoul of one of them eventually. And as soon as she realized where Jonah Magnus’ thoughts were trending, and where they would eventually lead, she knew that you would be a perfect candidate to complete the ritual in the end.

So she chose you. She lured you in. And you resisted her pull. She knew then that you would be the only one strong enough to succeed.

JON

I only survived because someone else took my place! I would have died if he hadn’t—

ANNABELLE

My dear Jon. Has anyone meant to be claimed by a power ever actually handed away a book or an artifact willingly?

Had you been meant to be the Spinner’s in the end, Mitchell Hopkins would never have been able to take that book from you, let alone read it. Mister Spider was a test, a test that you passed.

A test I never would have.

JON

…

…Was that his name? Mitchell?

ANNABELLE

It was.

It is.

And now you know everything.

[A FEW MOMENTS OF SILENCE, SAVE THE TAPES CHITTERING IN THE BACKGROUND]

JON

I—I suppose I should be grateful that we don’t remember all of…these. All these…cobwebs.

I’m damned grateful I don’t remember—

ANNABELLE

I must admit, that was a bad one.

JON

Getting through that…it was hard enough with Martin. I don’t—I don’t see how I did it alone.

Especially after—especially knowing I—

Did I know?

ANNABELLE

…

You spent far longer at Salesa’s that time than you did any other time. In the end, I had to go with you almost all the way to London.

…Yes. You knew.

Not at the time. Not when it happened. But the Eye made sure you Knew the details in the end. You ran into Basira and she asked where Martin was—

JON

—and the Beholder forced me to describe it.

ANNABELLE

You said yourself, more than once. None of this has ever been to the benefit of humanity. Or any individual human.

JON

Or whatever I—whatever we are.

ANNABELLE

What defines a human, anyway? The limitations, or the abilities?

We can do more than what an ordinary human can. But we can still do all the things that an ordinary human can, too. We think. We feel. We love, Jon.

As far as I’m concerned, that makes us human.

JON

…Who do you love, Annabelle?

ANNABELLE

I was the first to hold him. Did you know that? I was staying with Harry and his wife while I was at university, just before I took part in that study. They wanted someone to read to him before he was born, so he would learn the stories. Harry worked late, trying to make a better life for them all, and Elizabeth…well, she was blind, so she could tell stories fine, but she wanted him to hear books too. Every night, after dinner, I’d sit and read to her belly. He came early and Harry didn’t get to the hospital in time, so after Elizabeth, I was the first one to hold him.

Harry picked out his first name because he knew I hated that book. Elizabeth softened it by picking a middle name after me, but…she always called him Charlie. I think she knew, even then.

A couple years after I became part of the Web, the Desolation took Harry, probably to spite me, but…Harry was never the one I cared about. Elizabeth, at least, died as peacefully as anybody can. It may not have been pleasant, or timely, but at least it wasn’t to serve a power. Just bad luck.

…

Get him away from that grandmother of his if you can, will you?

JON

One of us will.

ANNABELLE

That’s all I ask.

JON

Well, I—I suppose, in light of all that’s happened…it’s the least I can do.

ANNABELLE

You believe me, then?

JON

It happened. It’s over.

Whether once or a hundred times…it happened the way you said at least once. And we won. That’s enough for me.

…Yes, Annabelle Cane, I believe you.

ANNABELLE

For what it’s worth, Jon, you did all the hard work on your own. You and Martin, and…the others. In your time and this. All I did was get you here.

JON

The others…

(sharp intake of breath) Oh, God. The Unknowing. Has it—have they—I-I can’t, even if we were in the Panopticon, I couldn’t See it. But you—there, there were tapes.

Are they…?

ANNABELLE

That one. I think.

JON

You think?

ANNABELLE

It added itself to the web just before you got here. It’s either theirs or yours.

[BRIEF PAUSE, THEN THE SQUEAL OF TAPE BEFORE A RECORDING PICKS UP - FAINT CIRCUS MUSIC, THUMPS AND TAPS THAT MIGHT BE SOME KIND OF FOOTSTEP, FLOORBOARDS CREAKING, SHALLOW BREATHING, FABRIC RUSTLES]

PRESENT ARCHIVIST ON TAPE

I love you.

PRESENT MARTIN ON TAPE

I love you.

TIM ON TAPE

I love you.

Tell me when.

[DEEP BREATH]

PRESENT ARCHIVIST ON TAPE

Three…two…one…

[MORE FABRIC RUSTLES, DETONATOR CLICKS, EXPLOSION BEGINS BEFORE ABRUPTLY CUTTING OFF]

JON

Oh, God.

ANNABELLE

And to think I thought you had a terrible sense of timing.

JON

At least they said something before—

O-oh, God, Tim. Tim—you know as well as I do that in my time, he—and I—were they all in the middle of that?

ANNABELLE

More or less.

They didn’t walk into the Unknowing, at least. Martin listened to what you told him and wouldn’t let them open any doors. But it had to be blown up from the inside to be sure of getting all the charges. Your counterpart and Martin’s wouldn’t leave Tim behind, however much he tried to make them.

JON

What happened after that?

ANNABELLE

I don’t know if there is an after that yet.

JON

And we’re back to the cryptic bullshit.

ANNABELLE

On the contrary. I said exactly what I meant.

We aren’t exactly anywhere right now, or any when. This…place…I wouldn’t call it a domain, but it exists outside of both time and space. The rules are different here. Time, if it passes at all, passes differently.

They might have just pressed the detonator. They might have pressed it hours ago, or days ago.

JON

(dismayed) Days?

ANNABELLE

All I can say is that wherever, whenever they are, they are out of reach of my tapes. And your sight.

Fortunately…I know someone who can give us those answers, even from here. Maybe especially from here.

JON

Who else is here, for God’s sake?

[ANNABELLE SINGS THE NEXT LINE IN THE SAME SLOW, MEASURED VOICE AS BEFORE]

ANNABELLE

Two elephants went out to play Upon a spider’s web one day They had such enormous fun They called for another elephant to come…

[STICKY FOOTSTEPS APPROACH OVER THE TAPE WEB]

OLIVER

Hello, Jon. It is all right if I call you Jon?

JON

…Oliver? Oliver Banks?

OLIVER

In the…well. In the manifestation, I suppose. I don’t know if any of us is here in the flesh.

JON

(disbelieving laugh) You’re…not quite what I expected.

OLIVER

Is that an invitation for me to comment about how Death so rarely is what we expect, or a manifestation of you wondering why Martin would possibly be jealous of someone like me?

ANNABELLE

If you knew either of them a little better, you’d know Martin’s reasons for being jealous are almost entirely in his head.

Also, he’s never met you.

OLIVER

Mm, true. We always seemed to miss one another.

JON

You—hold on. You’re from the future as well?

OLIVER

Like you and Annabelle. Well, more like Annabelle, I suppose. You had to be the Pupil of the Eye before you were tangled enough to get dragged back with the Fears. Me? Without Terminus, I’m just…dead. And we’ve already established that that’s not where I want to be.

JON

…Did you know? When you came to the hospital?

OLIVER

That we’d done this before? Of course. I long ago stopped being surprised at what you would choose.

JON

Then for God’s sake, why—

OLIVER

Because you had to choose, Jon. It was always your choice.

Think of it as a crossroads. You stood at a fork in the road, where one path would take you back to life and the other would take you on to, well, whatever came next. The trouble was that the signposts were covered.

You could have chosen without knowing which path was which, but that’s not your way. Not when you know enough to know that one was…mm, wrong, shall we say? One would have led you where you wanted to be, one where you didn’t.

JON

I didn’t want to die.

OLIVER

There’s a difference between not wanting to die and having something to live for.

JON

(deep breath) Right, well, I definitely have something to live for, so I’ll be going now.

Uh, how do I get out of here?

OLIVER

Ordinarily? You don’t.

JON

What?!

OLIVER

This is Terminus’s realm. Well, sort of. A little pocket on the outside edge of it.

JON

Another crossroads.

OLIVER

Mm, not so much. More that you’re standing in the middle of the path.

JON

So which way is back?

OLIVER

Life is a journey traveled in one direction only.

JON

(tartly) Yes, well, so is time, but here we all are.

I’ve already chosen to live, Oliver. (with slight malice) Can I call you Oliver?

OLIVER

(not rising to the bait) This isn’t a place where you get to choose.

JON

…So you’re saying that’s it.

After all that, after everything I—everything we did…this is the end. There’s nowhere else for me to go.

ANNABELLE

How many times have you walked out of another entity’s domain? Not counting the Apocalypse. We’ve already talked about how that doesn’t count.

JON

I…twice. The Buried and the Lonely.

Three, I suppose, if that crossroads counts.

OLIVER

That was a metaphor. You were close to Death, but not its realm. If that makes sense.

JON

Not really.

ANNABELLE

The Buried and the Lonely, then.

What brought you out?

JON

From the Buried, it was the—the tapes…it was Martin putting those tapes on top of the coffin. W-weaving me a rope…or a ladder.

The Lonely was simple enough to leave. The way out was together.

ANNABELLE

With Martin.

JON

…Yes.

ANNABELLE

Exactly.

Not all strands of a spider’s web are to capture or to control, you know. Sometimes, they are simply…to anchor.

JON

…

…That’s why you offered to bind me to Martin. It wasn’t about—it wasn’t for strength or power at all.

ANNABELLE

Not to defeat Jonah Magnus, no. There’s more than one kind of strength, more than one kind of power. I did tell you that you would need it to survive what was coming.

JON

It brought Martin back when Peter Lukas visited the Archives and he almost got swallowed by the Lonely again. It—it grounded me, kept me from losing control while I was taking down Jonah.

And now…

ANNABELLE

It can guide you home.

[OLIVER LAUGHS]

OLIVER

You know, people always talk about some legendary “red string of fate”, but I’ve never actually seen a real one before.

Let alone one woven from cassette tape.

JON

You knew I had that tether from the beginning.

OLIVER

Truthfully, I didn’t think it would work. Plenty of people have things they think are tying them to life, but they aren’t strong enough to resist the pull. Most threads snap.

JON

Not this one.

I made Martin a promise. And I never break my word.

OLIVER

A good thing, when your tether is almost literally made out of your words.

JON

Ha, ha.

…Wait. B-before I go…the Unknowing. Are they—she said you would know.

OLIVER

It’s over. It worked. They brought the house down.

A lot of tormented souls set free, all at once. Quite the rush, really.

JON

The three of them—my counterpart and Martin’s and Tim. What happened to them?

[OLIVER SIGHS]

OLIVER

Two of them will be fine. Some cuts and bruises, but they’ll be up and about sooner rather than later. They might already be up and about. Time’s difficult to discern here.

The other…I suspect I’m going to need to pay a visit at some point. Clean off those signposts.

JON

Don’t wait six months.

OLIVER

I shouldn’t be more than a couple weeks behind you.

JON

…That’s less comforting than you think it is.

OLIVER

Then it must be terrifying, because I was definitely going for ominous.

[JON SIGHS…AND LAUGHS RELUCTANTLY; ANNABELLE AND OLIVER LAUGH TOO]

JON

I suppose we’ll meet again, Annabelle.

ANNABELLE

…No. No, I don’t think we will.

JON

Tired of me already?

ANNABELLE

I was watching them for you. Not just through the tapes. I was lurking in a corner of that room.

I don’t know that I made it out.

OLIVER

(gently) You didn’t, I’m afraid.

Your choices are more limited. Stay here with your web…or see what comes next.

[A SHORT PAUSE]

JON

We’ll keep the recorders going.

In case you’re still listening.

ANNABELLE

…Tell Charlie his aunt loves him very much.

JON

I will.

Oliver…don’t take this the wrong way, but if I ever see you again, it will be too soon.

OLIVER

Death always comes too soon.

JON

That was definitely not meant for that aspect of you.

OLIVER

Fair.

ANNABELLE

Have a good life, Jon.

You and Martin deserve it.

JON

If I may borrow from another…may you find your rest where no shadows are cast, and no eyes may see you slumber.

ANNABELLE

(audibly smiling) From you, Jon, that is a true blessing.

[DEEP BREATH]

JON

Right. Hold on, Martin.

I’m coming home.

[CLICK]

[joheun-saram]

To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 02

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, slow burn, fluff eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut 

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger's house. 

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Everytime he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash. 

As he brushed his teeth today, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year. 

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he doesn’t need the tutoring anymore, he does enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would be an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but everytime he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he can’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head. 

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous.

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez. Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while staring at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh... this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter. 

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

  ____________________________

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it.” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first...” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon... slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session. 

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that. 

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

---------------------------------------

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[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 33)

The large round eyes, belonging to the auburn fox, flutter from left and right, back to left, before it takes a deep breath and leaves its safe pot to seek food for the day. The night’s hefty downpour prevented it from going out, and now it’s hungry. The new world order has made it a lot easier to find food, which also means that the feeling of hunger is seldom reminded. But during the night, its stomach has been rumbling for something tasty, a bird or anything really. On soft paws, the fox hurries across the grass before stopping abruptly, to check that the coast is clear. But its home environment, a forest somewhere in Virginia, is deserted and free from danger. It had been a long time since this fox had experienced a hunting season, or heard the sound of quad bikes smelling of exhaust fumes pulling through its natural habitat. The fox hurries on, but just a few meters on it stops abruptly again, pricks up its ears when a rustle is heard. Silently, the fox hurries into a bush, at the same time as the grass is split some distance away by a pair of worn Keen hiking boots. The sun plays through the rustling foliage; a soft clatter, a result of the soft breeze that pulls through the forest.

After rain comes sunshine, it’s said. But the crooked male who stumbles between the tree trunks with trailing steps, has no idea of ​​the beauty of mother nature that surrounds him. Nor any idea that he was once a thinking, living being. Many months have passed and time has not been gentle on him. A piece, large as a clenched fist, of his cheek is ripped out, but it doesn’t worry him. He totally lacks the ability to feel, to reason about whether he needs to see a doctor or put a bandaid on it. That time is over. The only instinct that remains and clings to the man’s poisoned, dead consciousness is hunger. An incurable, constant hunger for meat. That’s what drives the man forward through the forest, without, unlike the fox, being on his guard. It’s also this inattention that is reminded when a 5.45 mm bullet penetrates his skull, between the ear and the eye. The loud sound makes the fox give up his attempted excursion and rush back to his burrow.

Daryl tears his eyes from the walker who collapses on the ground like a shattered house of cards, and glances to his left. 

“Home run.” He says as Mila lowers the rifle. “Ya’ wanna let me have a fair chance?” “It was you who said we should compete.” Mila threads the rifle’s shoulder strap over her arm and gives him a cheeky smile. “Gotta level up your game, Dixon. It’s not a contest if I let you win.”

“Hmpf...”

Mila starts walking and Daryl follows. He should have suspected that she was competitive. So far, she leads with eight hits against his three. 

They’re heading west. A few days earlier, Glenn, Rick and Sasha returned to the Safe-Zone after a run, announcing that they had passed a mall they hadn’t seen before. As it got dark, all three agreed that it would be foolhardy to go in and investigate. Instead, Daryl suggested that he take on the task; leave early and check the place out.

“Take someone with you.” was the only thing Rick said before heading off to bed. 

In front of Daryl, Mila’s trotting on towards their goal as fast as her feet manage. The untied boot laces bounces around her feet, whips up fallen leaves. They have accomplished about 2 miles which is halfway according to Rick’s description, made their way through woods and abandoned streets. Not taking the car was a conscious choice; Daryl wanted to do the walk. In nature he can breathe, he needs it and all its simplicity as if it were oxygen. He can not imagine spending the day with anyone else then her, on foot, on a mission to explore. Neither more nor less, yet everything.

“How far did they say it was?” Mila turns and looks at him; the long hair forms a fan around her face of the rapid movement. 

“‘Bout halfway.” He replies.

“And we’re supposed to do what again?”

“Scout the place for supplies, then go back another day if it’s any good.” Daryl offers Mila his hand as she makes her way over a big branch, lying in their path. “Ya’ had anything in mind?”

“Carol asked for some new fancy kitchen knives.”

“Course she did.” Daryl grimaces, amused by Carol’s request, and climbs the branch. 

“You go way back, you two, huh?” Mila squints at him.  

Daryl squints back at her; Mila’s sapphire blue eyes are curious and gleams in the dancing sunlight that penetrates the dense foliage above. He shrugs a little. 

“No more than anyone else.”

Mila lifts her eyebrows at him, she wants to hear more. Daryl sighs.

“We just-” He pauses, doesn’t really know what to say. “Get each other. Somehow.” How should he describe their friendship? Carol is one of his closest, most dearest friends. She’s warm, kind, fierce and she has a haunting ability to read his mind; knows what he thinks without him uttering a single word. Might be a mother’s instinct, or it might be something else, but Daryl values her ability immensely, not being very good with words himself. In the beginning, way back, he felt irritated, exposed and vulnerable in Carol’s presence. Could just as well be because he was a full blown ass to everything and everyone, but Carol made him feel human, made him feel like ‘someone’. She helped him find purpose and meaning in the group, never doubted him. Gosh, if it wasn’t for Carol, he thinks and looks at Mila, he would never be where he is; here, with Mila, being able to talk with her, not sounding like a buffoon or a total piece of shit. Crap, without Carol’s tremendous influence, Mila would probably have shunned him like the plague. He’d never in his life thought he’d soften up like this, but right now- He owes Carol everything for believing in him, not giving up. What if he’s been a good influence on her as well?

Out of nowhere, Mila says:

“You’ve gone through a lot together. Of course that must be more than friendship, that’s-” She searches for words. “-family. Strong bonds. Growing together, always having each others back. That’s valuable.”

“She’s great.” Daryl says and looks at Mila; wow, she really put words on his feelings. 

“Invaluable, I would say.” Mila smiles. “Who could have dreamed of having a babysitter in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? One who’s also chef, baker, friend- a hell of a soldier.” She chuckles and grins at him. “And here I am, with you. Hell, I might switch to Carol, now that I think of it. She’s awesome.”

Daryl takes up a handful of leaves and throws at her. Mila laughs and leans in, pulls him into a kiss, lips with a lingering taste of this morning’s breakfast; coffee black as hell and the blantest looking bowl of oatmeal Daryl’s ever seen. Her lips sweep over his and Daryl, still holding onto the crossbow, puts his arm around her neck and replies the kiss, feeling her soft hair brush against his arm. 

”I guess I get to work a little extra then.” He says with a smirk. “I won’t start baking though.”

“You sure?” She raises her eyebrows. “I'm pretty convincing.” 

For you and the kid I’d probably do whatever the hell you wanted, if you asked me to, Daryl thinks. Damn, he would go through fire and water for ‘em.

“Let’s get this over with.” He puts a loop of her hair behind her ear. ”come on, Jersey.”

With his arms still resting around her neck, they continue to walk. Above them the treetops rattle pleasantly in the wind. The birds chirp and some distance away two squirrels perform their dance for each other around a thick tree trunk, wiggling their tails and noses simultaneously. But something’s disturbing the overall peaceful atmosphere. Maybe it’s intuition, but something's not quite right. Something in the distance makes Daryl stop abruptly. All of his muscles tenses and Daryl pricks up his ears, just like the fox he saw earlier. Male voices, more than two. Like a laser pointer, his gaze moves from left to right, frantically scouting for the slightest movement, the slightest deviation from the green vegetation around them. Suddenly he sees it. Ten meters in front of where they have haltered, the greenery, scattered with a few trees and bushes, opens into a paved road. On the other side of the road lies two buildings. It’s the dirty, black pickup parked in front of one of the buildings that has caught his attention. That and the armed men surrounding it. 

“Down!”

“What?”

Before Mila has the chance to react, Daryl grabs her by the jacket and forces her to crouch. He raises a dirty index finger in front of his lips, as a sign that she should be dead quiet. Mila looks around, understands that he has seen something she has not seen yet. The sound of voices at a distance makes her look beyond the trees and bushes and she catches sight of the pickup. Carefully they make their way over to a pair of bushes that separates wilderness from domesticated. He pulls her down in the tall grass behind the foliage, out of sight, but the men in the parking lot don’t take notice of what’s happening in the vegetation at the other side of the road. Their attention lies fully on the boxes of ammunition they carry out of the run down building. They stack them on the covered truck bed, then return inside to grab some more, like a running band. Mila scouts through the foliage.

“Anyone you’ve seen before?” She asks in a low voice.

“Nah.” Daryl shakes his head while he follows a man with shoulder-length blond hair with his eyes. The blonde man disappears into the building and another comes out with yet another box. “Nah, they’re new.”

While five of the men fill the truck bed with boxes and cartons, the sixth man is standing on guard, armed with an automatic rifle, eyes searching the surrounding for any dangers, or other people. 

“Maybe we should lie low for awhile.” Mila states. 

Yeah, certainly feels foolish to make themselves known. Instead they lay low behind the bushes, watching the unknown group from a distance. Daryl looks at Mila’s profile; her forehead is furrowed and she seems to think, while biting on her lower lip. 

“Whatcha thinkin’?”

“There’s-“ She counts. ”-six of them. There’s two of us. And I’m not good at math, but-” Once again Mila peers through the foliage. “And one doesn’t need that much ammunition unless there’s a threat.” She mumbles. “Or if you yourself is the threat.”

Daryl doesn’t answer. He thought exactly the same. There’s two possible scenarios for the reason behind this hoarding and he doesn’t like any of ‘em. His thoughts wander back in time, to the prison and the Governor, beheading Herschel and splitting the group, which caused him to flee headlong with Beth. An unpleasant sensation begins to take shape inside his stomach, a bundle of painful memories cutting his insides like barbed wire. There can’t be another Governor situation, not another battle. No more losses.  

“Wonder where they’re staying.” Mila continues. “You think they have their own Safe-Zone somewhere?”

“More like Alamo.” Daryl replies, considering the heavy armor. “Ain’t lookin’ too good.”

“As long as we stay far away, we should be fine.” 

Mila pats him on the knee and turns her eyes away from the gun shop. She makes herself comfortable, takes off her backpack, opens it and takes out two plastic bottles of water, followed by a half filled bottle of vodka. Daryl grins.

“Ya’ got a problem, Jersey.” He says and receives a bottle of water. 

“I know.” She says. “If you happen to stumble across an AA meeting I promise you I’d attend, without hesitating.”  

“Been like this for long?” He drinks and looks at Mila over the clear plastic bottle. “The drinkin’ I mean.”

“My family has a long tradition of desertion, foolish luck and malicious alcoholism. I’m not exactly surprised.” Mila fiddles with the cap of the vodka bottle. “Luckily I have a quite high tolerance. Besides, I can’t really stop either. It’s considered a disease I’ve heard.” She grins amused. “Back in Russia they’d die of laughter if they heard.” She pauses and squints at Daryl in the sun. “You’d like me to stop, right?”

“You do you.” Daryl responds. Ain’t his business to tell her what to do. Nor his right to.

“That’s new.” Mila says. 

“Doesn’t seem to be that much of a problem, that’s all.” 

“Good for me then. I didn’t plan to stop, not yet at least.”

“Take ya’ time.” Daryl says. “As long as ya’ safe. And the kid. Ya’ doin’ fine.”

“Might be hard to put your head around, but I was actually quite deep in the shit a couple of months ago. Though-” Mila pauses. “I’d lie if I said I didn’t feel guilty. This-” She nods at the bottle. “No kid should grow up around it. I mean, I did and that didn’t go well. I’d throw myself over a cliff if anything happened to Juri, but-” She sighs. “I have flaws, demons. But I’ve sworn to myself, and Juri, that he’s safe, no matter how wasted or fucked up I am.”

Daryl reaches out his arm, pulls her towards him. 

“He wouldn’t be more safe with anyone else.” Daryl says and squeezes her a little. “Ya’ doin’ good, Jersey. Drunk or not.”

A bang, the sound of the door to the pickup’s flatbed closing, makes them both jump in the grass. They turn their heads and look through the foliage, seeing the men step into the car and onto the loaded flatbed.

“Let’s go.” They hear one of them holler.

The engine starts and they drive out of the deserted parking lot in front of the gun shop, turn left and disappear.

“Coast is clear.” Mila declares. “Let’s get going.”

[since0202]

Chapter 38: Touch

Grace woke up a few hours later to Jacob’s soft breath across the top of her head. She placed a hand on his chest and gently extracted herself, looking around at the dark room. Embry. 

She pulled on some loose sweats and quickly made her way down the stairs and into the back room. Embry was asleep and Grace put a hand to the back of his forehead to feel for any damp. His face felt like the traditional wolf warmth and Grace breathed a sigh of relief. She pulled back the cover to inspect his wound and the wound was now turning an angry red color that would hopefully fade to a pink. As she leaned down next to him and placed her head on his arm she thanked her ancestors for keeping him safe. 

“Grace?” Embry muttered, his voice hoarse. She lifted her head quickly to look at him and clicked on the light next to him. 

“Hey, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” she asked trying to keep her voice calm. Embry tried to clear his throat and swallowed hard. “I’ll get you some water.” She quickly bounced down the hall to the kitchen and filled up a glass, placing a straw in. She helped him drink and when he drained the glass, Embry leaned back against the pillows. 

“Thanks,” he said softly. “Where’s the IV from?” 

“Carlisle came and set it up. You lost a lot of blood and I needed help. What happened?” 

“Sam,” Embry said, rubbing his eyes with his left hand not hindered by the wound on his right shoulder. “After Leah and Seth left, he was furious. I’ve never seen him like that. He wanted to set up around the Cullen’s place but Quil and I...we said it wasn’t a good idea. We needed to regroup, we had lost two and attacking the Cullen’s now would definitely mean someone would die. So I...I tried to stop him. He was throwing out alpha orders like it was candy and we were all just trying to get through it but...I couldn’t let him do this. Not to you or Bella or our pack. It wasn’t right,” Embry coughed a little. Grace placed both hands on his shoulder now and he gave a sigh of relief. 

“Embry, I’m so sorry,” Grace said. 

“Eh, I knew fighting against an alpha order would result in a pretty nasty outcome, but god that hurt.” Embry winced as he tried to raise his right arm. Grace protested at this and sat on the bed next to him leaning over him to place her forehead against his.

“Oh no, please don’t,” she said softly. He chuckled and wrapped his right arm around her midsection and took a deep breath.

“You’re doing a good job,” he said quietly, closing his eyes. 

“No, I’m not. Not if you’re hurt, not if anyone gets hurt.” 

“Hey, Jake,” Embry said, looking around Grace slightly. Grace sat up and looked over her shoulder. 

“Save some heroic shit for the rest of us man,” Jacob joked crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah, well, you set the example. Speaking of, I’m packless at the moment, mind if I join yours?” Grace let out a laugh.

“Seems everyone wants to join, so why not?” Jacob said leaning his back against the wall, “But I’m going to ask you to watch your hands on my girl, heal or no heal.” He nodded toward Embry’s arm that was circled around Grace’s waist, his hand resting on her back. 

“Wait, really?” Embry said surprised. Grace nodded, keeping her hands on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, Jake kind of imprinted when he went all alpha,” She rolled her eyes with a joking smile. 

“Oh my god, I knew it,” Embry said, incredulous.

“Oh fuck off! You did not,” Grace laughed. Embry laughed now too and winced at the resulting tightness in his shoulders. 

“Ow, don’t make me laugh,” Embry said quietly. 

“Well, since you’re clearly feeling better, I’m going to check in on Leah and Seth on patrol,” Jacob said, crossing the room to kiss Grace’s temple. 

“Me too papa,” Embry joked, leaning up to present his cheek. Jacob scoffed in amusement and patted his hand to Embry’s cheek. 

“Bring him when he’s better?” Jacob asked. Grace nodded and settled in next to Embry. 

“Don’t fall in love with me,” Embry said. 

“Chill, Em” Grace laughed. 

“I was talking to Jake.” They both devolved into fits of laughter. For one fleeting moment, everything felt okay. 

In the early afternoon, Embry was feeling good enough to join the others. Grace recast to the Cullen’s property and quickly climbed the steps to the front door. She wasted no time knocking and made her way into the living room. Rosalie stood in front of Bella in a protective stance. 

“Bella?” Grace said gently. Bella’s face was obscured by Rosalie and the other vampires stood around the room nervously. 

“Grace?” Bella called out to her from the couch. Grace stepped forward but Rosalie put a hand up. 

“That’s close enough,” she said harshly. 

“Excuse me?” Grace said walking forward toward Rosalie. 

“Rose, it’s okay. It’s Grace, she’s not going to hurt me,” Bella said softly. 

“None of us are going to hurt you,” Alice said, her voice tinged with hurt. Rosalie stepped aside and Grace had to hold back a gasp at Bella’s figure. Her face was gaunt, her cheeks sunken, and the dark circles under her eyes were even more pronounced and her limbs look frail and thin. 

“Jeez, Bella.” Grace said as she sat on the couch next to her. Bella’s belly was massive. Grace looked to Carlisle who shook his head. 

“Subtle,” Emmett said amused from the corner. 

“I know, I’ve looked better,” Bella sighed, putting a hand on her stomach, “We just have to find out what he wants.” 

“Carlisle said you couldn’t hold down food anymore?” Grace asked. Bella nodded. “How long has that been going on for?” she was trying to control the rising panic in her voice. 

“Just the past few days,” Bella said nonchalantly. 

“Bella, this is bad. You can’t not eat for the rest of your pregnancy, you’ll die. It’s literally sucking the life out of you,” Grace placed a hand gently on her arm. 

“That’s it.” Edward said suddenly. 

“What?” Alice said and then she zoned out. Edward watched her and smiled. 

“Grace is right, she’s sucking the life out of her,” Edward looked to Bella now, clear joy on his face. 

“You’ve lost it,” Grace said perturbed. 

“He’s thirsty,” Bella said, holding onto Grace’s wrist. 

“It’s worth a shot,” Carlisle said. “I’ll see what I can grab at the hospital.” He was off. 

“You can’t be serious,” Grace said, understanding dawning on her. “Oh that’s dark.” Bella looked a little relieved but mostly she looked tired. Grace switched gears, bringing a hand to her cheek now. Bella lit up and looked down at her belly. 

“He can sense you’re here,” Bella said. She sounded delirious and Grace looked at Bella’s face. “Don’t look at me like that.” she said, shaking her head. Grace couldn’t help but smile at that. Bella leaned in and pressed her forehead to hers and whispered, “I can do this. I know I can do this.” 

“Okay, I know you can...I know,” Grace wrapped her arms around Bella and let her rest on her shoulder. 

“You’re warm,” Bella said softly as she drifted off to sleep. Edward was standing across the living room, his eyes filled with what she thought might be hope. 

“Carlisle said the pack has split, that Jacob is an alpha now. Is that true?” Edward asked. Grace nodded. “I can hear them around the perimeter.” 

“Me too,” Grace said, smiling sadly. Edward looked at Grace for a long time, trying to gather her thoughts but after awhile he simply said, 

“I promise I will do my best to keep her alive.” His voice was desperate, broken. Grace just nodded and tried to close her eyes, wishing that could keep Bella alive with her touch like she did for Embry. 

Grace spent the afternoon cuddled up next to Bella, and playing movies they both liked. If Grace had thought a year ago that this was where she would be, she would have thought herself insane. 

When Carlisle returned with bags of blood from the hospital, Grace excused herself. She could handle a lot, but that was a little too much for her. She walked out into the trees toward the warmth of the wolf she could pick out apart from anyone else. Jacob phased and donned his shorts, walking across the brush to meet her.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing under her forearms to pull her close right away. 

“Hey,” she replied, smiling up at him. It felt odd how easy it was to fall into step with him. He brought a hand to her face and touched it softly. 

“What is it?” His eyes searched hers and for a minute she thought about just recasting them somewhere far away to be alone. Her time with him had already been so limited since he had imprinted and she craved just him, just for a while. But the rest of the pack was coming. 

“Nothing, it’s just...Bella is definitely worse. They’re trying something new to help her but I don’t know how long she’ll last if this doesn’t work. She looked…” Grace choked at this and she could feel Jacob’s heart rate pick up at the stress this was all causing her. “She looked bad, Jake.” Grace held Bella’s face in her mind and shared it with him. His grip grew tighter around Grace momentarily and then he relaxed, putting his finger under her chin to pull her face up toward him. 

“We’ll do everything we can, yeah?” Grace nodded at him and he pulled her into a tight hug. The rest of the pack came into the clearing. 

“I didn’t pick anything up for about 10 miles around here,” Leah reported. Embry leaned against a tree and took some deep breaths, still not at 100%. 

“We need a plan,” Jacob said pulling away from Grace’s embrace and facing them. He threaded his fingers with hers. “A way to prevent a fight with Sam and the others. If we’re fighting each other, there’s going to be nothing left. And if they try to turn Bella…” Jacob stopped at this and squeezed Grace’s hand. He turned to look at her and his face pulled with soft understanding. “The Cullen’s are not a threat. This baby is not a threat. And if they end up turning Bella...I’m going to fight to protect her. If you don’t agree with that, I understand and you’re welcome to return to Sam’s pack. But I will not let anyone endanger my family, pack or otherwise.” Jake concluded. There were skeptical looks from Embry and Leah crossed her arms glancing at Grace. 

Seth stepped forward and nodded, “I’m with you. We don’t let Bella or anyone get hurt, even if they turn her.” 

“Fine,” Leah said, “But I still don’t have to like her.” 

“Fair,” Jacob said. “Em?” 

“There’s no way I go back now. And like I told Grace, killing Bella or her baby doesn’t sit right with me in any context. So I’m with you, brother.” Embry replied. 

“Okay, so now all we need is a plan.” Jacob said simply. “Right.” he faltered. 

Grace let go of his hand and stepped forward. “We can only patrol for so long and then sooner or later Sam will regroup and try to attack. But he won’t do it until Bella is bitten. By then the Cullen’s attention will be divided and they’ll be at their weakest. I don’t think we should wait for that point.” 

“What? We attack Sam and the others now?” Leah said. 

“We’re not attacking anyone. I need to go talk to Sam. Despite Jake starting this pack and imprinting, I’m not the protector of just this pack. If any of you get hurt, it’s on me. So let me talk to Sam first and see if I can get him talking. Extend the olive branch and let him know where we stand. I’m sure he won’t want to attack any of you now that he’s had some time…” Grace gave Embry a sympathetic look. “I’m sure everyone leaving was hard for him.” 

“You’re not going there alone.” Jacob said, incensed. 

“I have to. If I bring any of you it won’t seem like I’m coming on good terms, like I don’t trust him. I need to go alone.” She said the last sentence deliberately, staring up at Jacob. “He won’t hurt me now that you’ve imprinted, he can’t.” 

“He wasn’t supposed to hurt you as the Spirit Bird either,” Jacob said skeptically. 

“I need to do this. And until then, we patrol and regroup at my place. We’ll need to stay close by as often as we can in case something happens with Bella.” 

Jacob wasn’t happy with the plan but it was their best option for now. 

Grace shifted from foot to foot in the forest, waiting for Paul. She had tapped into her line in with him her next best connection into the pack aside from Sam and Jacob and asked to meet her in a neutral location.

He unphased so he could talk to her in person. Now that Jacob had imprinted, she realized everything her and Paul had had before was necessary but no longer the crux of their relationship. She found solace in his presence even if he didn’t intend it to be so. She had always been drawn to that about him. 

“Heard Jake imprinted on you,” he said casually. Grace raised an eyebrow at him as if beckoning him to say more, “Congrats. Welcome to the club.” 

“Thanks. It only took breaking up a pack to get it.” Grace shoved her hands in her back pockets and let her face warm at the sight of his easy smile. 

“Yeah, well. They say imprinting happens at the moment you need it most, but in my experience, it’s typically the worst time. How are you feeling about it?” 

“Good. I think we always knew something was there tying us together, but the imprint just cleared it up. Made it have a more concrete purpose. But I love him,” Grace’s eyes widened at this. She hadn’t even told Jacob that yet, but here she was, telling her ex-boyfriend that her new partner, her new….wait was Jacob even her boyfriend? Fuck I should really ask him about that. 

“I’m happy for you,” Paul said softly. Grace knew he meant it and for a beat they just looked at one another, an understanding. “So, what do you want from me?” 

“Don’t say it like that,” Grace said rolling her eyes, “I need to talk to Sam. Really. Is he...stable?” Paul let out a laugh that sounded like a bark. 

“He’s on edge, but he’s definitely stable. The shit with Embry was….not his finest moment. He feels like complete shit for that, but he was scared of losing everyone,” Paul said jumping to his defense. 

“I know, you don’t have to worry about any of that. Embry is okay and I understand that Sam was upset. I just want to talk and see if we can come to an agreement about this situation. We don’t want to fight and I’m still a protector of this pack,” Grace said gently. 

“Some shit protecting you’ve been doing,” Paul shot at her. Grace stutter stepped, taken off guard. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. You say you’re still a part of this pack but we haven’t seen or heard from you since everything went down. You abandoned us,” Paul said, his voice thick with anger now. 

“Don’t you dare, Paul Lahote.” Grace pulled her hands out of her pocket, “That is complete bullshit and you know it. I’m here, I’m trying to make things right with Sam when you know how easy it would be to walk away from everything considering what he said to me...what he did to Embry.” 

“It seems pretty clear what choice you made.” Paul said, standing up now and rippling with anger. 

“Stop! That’s enough!” Grace shouted at him. Paul was taken aback by this, his face colored with surprise and he momentarily stopped shaking. “I was attacked by my alpha, imprinted on with almost no warning, and been given NO TIME to be with my imprint because your alpha keeps attacking my packmates. Not to mention the impending attack he’s inevitably planning against my sister and her unborn baby! So you can see why I’m less than thrilled to come running back to this pack. So don’t talk to me about choice, Paul. I wasn’t given a choice. Sam made sure of that.” 

She was livid. Grace hadn’t meant to lose her cool with Paul, he was her line in, but she couldn’t help it. The stress of the past few days spilled out of her and she didn’t realize how much she had been holding together until this point. 

Paul looked at her with wide eyes, his chest heaving. The air was thick with electricity and Grace wasn’t sure if she had caused it or if it was another storm rolling in off the coast. 

“Fine,” Paul said after a while. Grace let the tension pull out of her shoulders. “Come by Sam’s tomorrow afternoon. I’ll make sure he’s there.” 

“Thanks,” Grace said, irritated now as she turned to leave. 

“I am sorry, you know,” Paul said offhandedly. 

“For what?” Grace said, stopping and looking over her shoulder. Paul held his arms up in a shrug. 

“Everything. Take your pick,” he laughed a little then, but it sounded sad. 

“I know...me too,” Grace nodded and quickly recast back to her home. She held onto the porch rail and looked at the sanded and stained patio that Paul had made for her. It felt like a lifetime ago. Grace suddenly felt like she was floating, that sense of being untethered, the one that made her do something reckless last time and made her heart thump too fast. How had things gotten like this so quickly? Had she not seen the signs? The weight of the last few days weighed on her now that she had finally expressed her anger about it to Paul and she felt her heart running quicker, the panic in her building. 

Just as she felt herself start to break apart and try to recast to somewhere that even she didn’t know, an arm ratched out and scooped her up. The floating feeling evaporated and all at once, she felt firmly rooted to the earth around her. Hot breath was in her ear and she closed her eyes against the sound, letting it vibrate through her. Grace could feel herself being moved with ease through the front door and set gently down on the kitchen counter. 

Jacob cupped both of his large hands under her face and she held his wrists. “Breathe, Grace.” His eyes were wide with concern and she took a deep inhale to try and slow her heart rate. When he was satisfied, he took a step closer pushing her legs apart so he stood right up against the counter top. Grace could feel the heat radiating off his body as he placed his hands under her shirt and on the soft skin of her waist. She looked down at his hands and smiled a little. 

“What?” he said softly. 

“Why do you always do that?” 

“Do what?” he said. 

“Whenever you touch me, you always make sure that your hands find bare skin.” Grace could feel the searing warmth pool in her belly at the anticipation of his answer. She knew why, she just wanted to hear him say it. 

“It feels better like this. When I can actually touch you, the connection feels stronger. Unfortunately for me, you don’t run around topless all the time like I do, so I have to improvise sometimes,” His face was incredibly close to hers and she could feel the deway warmth of his breath, but then he slowly leaned his head down and pressed his lips to her neck, his fingers gripping her sides a little tighter, hungry. “Is that okay?” he said, his voice low between pressing his lips along the length of her neck. 

Grace’s hands were on his shoulders and she nodded letting a soft “Mmhhhmm,” escape her. Anyway he wanted to touch her would be okay with Grace at this point. He paused, kissing just below her ear and making her shiver before he said, 

“I heard what you said to Paul...about us not having any time together since the imprint happened.” Grace felt her whole body scream in recognition. Of course he’d heard that. He kissed slowly down her jaw as he said, “I know under normal circumstances, Sam would give imprinters a week off to...connect,” her heart hammered in her chest as he said this, “I’m sorry I didn’t make that time with you. I’m still figuring out this alpha stuff and we haven’t really had a moment to relax.” He pressed his forehead to hers now and she placed her hands on the back of his neck. 

“We’ll have time, soon,” she whispered, her eyes still closed as she tried to memorize the tenor of his body. 

“We will,” he confirmed gently coaxing her face up by nuzzling his nose to hers. Grace felt the relief in her building and then, he leaned his lips down to hers, dangerously close, hovering just for a minute over hers before a howl rang out clear and pressing through the forest. Jacob still hovered over her lips and looked to the front door. Grace squeezed the back of his neck and let her eyes fall open. “Seth,” he grumbled. 

“Duty calls, Alpha,” she said in a soft voice. He smiled and let his hands come out from under her shirt and rested them on her upper thighs, 

“It actually sounds good when you call me that. I like it,” he laughed and patted the side of her thigh before leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back later. Stay out of trouble, Spirit Bird.” 

He gave her one last look before heading toward the door, phasing off the steps and disappearing into the forest. Grace let out a frustrated huff of air and tried to shake the whole body tingle that Jacob always left her feeling with. 

[marjansmarwani]

A Puzzle I Love to Solve

Characters: TK Strand & Carlos Reyes

Word Count: 6155

When TK gets an invitation to a friend’s wedding back in New York, he’s torn. He does miss his hometown and there are people he’d like to see, but there are some he’d like to never have to see again. He knows at least one of them will be at this wedding. But he feels stronger with Carlos by his side; confident in this thing that they have.

Carlos is thrilled for a chance to see the Big Apple, but is more excited to learn more about his boyfriend; to see where TK came from, and the place and people that made him who he is. TK worries that some of the things from his past will change Carlos’s mind about them, but Carlos is in for the long game – he wants to know every inch of TK; even the not so nice ones.

Another prompt fill for @lauraperfectinsanity! This one is prompt 19

[Read on Ao3]

--------

“What are you thinking for dinner tonight?” TK called as he stepped into the kitchen. He and Carlos had stopped by the Strand’s house so TK could switch over his stuff and get changed before heading back to Carlos’s. By some miracle, they had some mutual days off ahead of them and were planning on getting some takeout and not leaving the couch (or the bedroom) for the next 48 hours. Hence, the stopover. TK was determined to get everything taken care of now in order to maximize the time they had together. 

 Carlos shrugged from the doorway, “I don’t care. Maybe something simple, like pizza?”

 TK looked up from the mail he was sorting to glare at Carlos, “Nope, you know how I feel about the so-called “pizza” here. We’re not doing that.” 

 Carlos rolled his eyes, “Fine, no pizza you snob.” 

 “I am not a snob, that is just not pizza.” 

 “Can we settle on Chinese then? Or do you have an NYC objection to that too?”

 TK huffed as he looked back to the mail, “I do not. Chinese would be good.” He continued to shuffle through the mail, sorting it into piles. The problem with working back to back 24-hour shifts with two adults in the household is that the mail tended to pile up very quickly. He placed another envelope into his dad’s pile before he caught sight of the next envelope in the stack and froze.

 Carlos, who had been watching him from the doorway, frowned, “TK?” he asked hesitantly, “everything okay?”

 When his boyfriend didn’t respond he crossed the kitchen to see what had caused him to freeze. He came up behind him and placed a steady hand on his shoulder before gently plucking the envelope from the top of the stack. It was an envelope made of rich, cream-colored paper, the address written in delicate calligraphy on the front. Carlos frowned at it, “it looks like an invitation.” 

 TK swallowed and nodded slowly, “to a wedding,” he confirmed. 

 Carlos studied him, “a wedding you object to?” he asked tentatively.

 “No,” TK said quickly, “no, I knew they’d get around to it eventually and I’m happy for them. It’s just...I didn’t think they’d bother to invite me. I mean, I kind of cut out of New York quickly, didn’t really leave much by the way of explanation. I just sent out a mass text saying I was moving to Texas and that was that. I really haven’t heard from any of my friends since. A few texts here and there, but nothing more.” 

 “Clearly they want you there if they went through the trouble of tracking you down and inviting you. Do you not want to go? Because you don’t have to.” 

 TK sighed, “It’s not that. I do want to go - they were good friends to me - but they weren’t just my friends. They were our friends,” he said significantly. 

 Carlos sucked in a breath as he understood, “And you think he’s going to be there?”

 TK nodded solemnly, “I’d put money on it. They’ve known him longer, they were the ones who introduced us, actually.” 

 Carlos was quiet as he considered what to say next, turning the envelope over in his hands. 

 “If you decide to do this,” he finally said, “you won’t have to do it alone.” 

 TK looked up at him sharply, “Are you inviting yourself to my friends’ wedding Carlos Reyes?” he demanded with a raised eyebrow. 

 “I suppose I am,” Carlos said with a chuckle. “Look, all I’m saying is that you don’t have to go - god knows being halfway across the country is more than a decent excuse. But if you do want to go, you won’t have to face it alone.” 

 TK was quiet for a while as he considered. He took the envelope back from Carlos and examined it closely, running his hand over the return address, “You’ve never seen New York before, have you?” he asked softly. 

 Carlos smiled, “No, I haven’t. And I hear they have pretty good pizza. I’ve been meaning to try it for a while.” 

 TK took a deep breath before looking back up at Carlos with a smile, “Well, I guess I should open it then, so we can see when exactly you’ll be getting around to that pizza.” 

 Carlos smiled softly at him and squeezed his shoulder gently as he slit open the envelope. 

 -----

 Carlos gaped as he looked out the window of the plane approaching LaGuardia. “Wow,” he breathed out as he took in his first look of NYC from the sky. 

 He looked back at TK with wide eyes and TK smiled at him, reaching over to squeeze his hand and lean closer so he could see out the window as well. “It’s impressive, isn’t it?” he asked as he looked down at the familiar city. 

 “It really is,” he said breathlessly. He glanced over at TK, leaning into his space and taking in the view. “How does it feel to see it again?” he asked.

 TK shrugged as he leaned back to his seat, “Honestly, too soon to tell. Ask me again when we’re on the ground.”

 Carlos tracked him with his eyes as he leaned back and began to absently fiddle with the sleeves of his jacket. He reached out a hand to put on top of TK’s restless one. 

 TK looked up, surprised, but Carlos looked significantly down at the hand that had been fingering his cuff. TK let out a short laugh, “I didn’t even realize.”

 Carlos nodded, and gave him a gentle smile, “It’ll be okay, TK, don’t worry about it.”

 TK took a deep breath and sighed, “I’m trying.”

Carlos squeezed his hand, “You can do this Ty, it’s going to be fine. Besides, even if it is a disaster, we’ll be heading back to the other end of the county in a few days.”

 TK chuckled drily at that, “Just what I always wanted – to flee my hometown under a cloud of shame for the second time this year.”

 Carlos rolled his eyes, “So dramatic.” TK laughed lightly, but didn’t contradict him.

 A half-hour later, they were exiting the airport and TK was hailing a cab. The driver helped them load their luggage into the trunk and then they were off, heading into Manhattan. He glanced at them in the rearview mirror, “you know,” he said, “this is my favorite route to do because I love to see people take in their first view of the city. You gents ever been to the Big Apple before?”

 “It’s my first time,” Carlos responded. 

 “Well, welcome to New York. I hope she treats you well,” he said with a grin. “What about you?” he asked TK.

 TK looked up from where he had been gazing at the skyline, “I used to live here,” he said, voice almost distant. 

 “Yeah? How long?”

 “26 years,” TK said, “I’ve only been gone for about a year.” 

 The cab driver raised his eyebrows, “A first-timer and a homecoming, should be quite the trip.” 

 TK smiles at the cabbie, but it’s tight and a bit forced. Carlos reaches over to grab his hand, winding their fingers together. 

 “It’ll be fine,” he assures him again, softly. The smile he gets in return is surer, more genuine. TK squeezes his hand back before returning his gaze to the skyline with a more relaxed expression. 

 Soon they are through an underwater tunnel (the Queens Midtown tunnel, TK informed him) and pulling into Manhattan. If Carlos had thought that the city was impressive from the sky, there was nothing quite like being on the ground, in the middle of it all. He stood there, unable to do anything but gape for several seconds. He looked over to see TK smiling at him, “what do you think?” he asked. 

 Every inch of the street screamed of life. The sidewalks and crosswalks were packed, the sound of the traffic and construction from somewhere nearby blending with the sound of voices. The buildings rose up around them tall and imposing but gleaming in the afternoon sun. It was like nothing Carlos had ever seen. He turned to TK, “I think you better start showing me around.” 

 “Anything, in particular you want to see?”

 Carlos threaded his arm around TK’s waist and pulled him closer, “I want to see your New York,” he said, “I want to see what is important to you, what makes you happy. I want to know everything about you Ty, and this is a pretty big piece of that puzzle. I want to start putting it together, if you’ll let me.”

 TK grinned, “Be careful what you wish for Reyes; the TK Strand tour of the Big Apple is not for the faint of heart.” 

 Carlos pressed his face into TK’s neck as he hummed consideringly, “I think I can handle it. I’ve had some training.” 

 “Then let’s get checked in and get rid of the bags - we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” 

 They spent the rest of the day hitting the spots TK deemed necessary. It was a mix of the quintessential New York attractions and some of TK’s old haunts and favorite spots. Carlos enjoyed watching his boyfriend just as much as the sights. He was learning more and more about the other man, through the things he showed him and the stories he told. His eyes lit up when they reached something familiar and he was animated as he shared the stories of his youth; of a childhood spent in a metropolis where there was nothing under the sun deemed too far-fetched to do or see. 

 At some point, they ended up outside a fire station with the numbers 252 emblazoned on the side. TK’s ebullient energy faded into something more restless, more contemplative as they stood across the street. 

 Carlos watched him closely, “Do you want to go in?” he asked. 

 “I should,” TK said lowly, “they were my team for years; I should stop in while I’m in town. I know my dad would want me to; would want to know how they’re doing.” 

 “But you don’t want to.” 

 TK was quiet for several moments before finally shaking his head. “I don’t think I can, not yet. Maybe before we leave town, but I can’t today. I’m so freaked out about seeing Alex tomorrow, and I didn’t leave under the best of circumstances. They might not even want to see me, and I don’t think I could handle that right now.” 

 TK looked like he would keep rambling until he passed out, so Carlos put a hand on his shoulder and gently turned him away from the station so he was facing Carlos, “hey,” he started, voice soft, “you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You don’t have to go in there now, you don’t have to go in there at all if you don’t want to. I am not going to think any less of you if you decide you can’t do that Tyler Kennedy. Somethings are best left in the past, and that’s okay.” 

 TK took a deep breath and nodded, giving Carlos a smile that was tense, but relieved. “Thank you,” he whispered to Carlos, leaning forward to rest his forehead on his for a moment. Carlos took a deep breath as well, savoring the grounding feel that his touch had. TK pulled back from Carlos and glanced back over his shoulder. “Maybe after the wedding,” he said, “if you don’t mind coming back.” 

 Carlos grabbed his hand and squeezed it, “I don’t mind anything as long as it’s with you - you should know that by now.” 

 -----

 The next evening found them on the rooftop of the Beekman hotel in what was apparently called FiDi. (TK had explained to an incredulous Carlos that it stood for “Financial District.” He said it was probably meant to make it sound trendier, but Carlos thought it just made it more confusing.) The ceremony had just ended, and the guests were enjoying the views and the warm summer night on the rooftop before the reception got into full swing. Carlos had left TK chatting with some old friends as he went in search of drinks. 

 The ceremony had been lovely and the room seemed to be full of old friends and acquaintances who seemed thrilled to see TK again. Both the brides had pulled him into enthusiastic hugs when they went through the receiving line, not letting them pass until they had secured a promise to meet them for lunch before they flew back to Austin. It was nice seeing TK surrounded by old friends, comfortable in a world where Carlos was not. 

 Carlos knew the basics of the circumstances under which TK had left New York nearly a year ago, but he didn’t know everything. What he did know – though he had never said it – is that TK had felt like he had abandoned his friends; that they resented him for it, that he didn’t deserve to be forgiven. To be so plainly faced with a contradiction in the forms of smiles and hugs and good-natured conversations about what he had been up to, what he had missed was a balm - one he had badly needed. With every moment and every smile from an old friend, he seemed lighter. 

 “Could I please have a glass of the merlot and a mineral water when you get a chance?” Carlos asked the bartender who flashed him a smile before turning to fill his order. 

 He leaned against the bar to wait when an unfamiliar voice sounded beside him, “Mineral water? Trying to stay hydrated?” 

 Carlos glanced up to see tall, well-dressed man standing next to him with a raised eyebrow. Carlos smiled politely, “No, my boyfriend just doesn’t like to drink.” 

 The man shrugged, “To each their own, I guess. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” 

 It was Carlos’s turn to shrug, “I came in from out of town. My boyfriend used to live here and was friends with Sania and Andi.” 

 The other man nodded, and leaned closer, “And what do you do out of town?”

 Carlos leaned back, ever so slightly. “I’m a cop,” he said blandly. 

 That caused his eyebrows to shoot up, “Well, that must be exciting.” 

 “Mmhm,” Carlos agreed vaguely. This guy was clearly not taking the hint. Carlos was just about to try to form another sentence using the phrase ‘my boyfriend’ in case the third time truly was the charm when his drinks miraculously appeared. He smiled gratefully at the bartender and slid a few bills across the bar to her before picking up the drinks and shooting the other man one last polite smile, “Well, nice talking to you, but I have to deliver this.”

 He nodded, “See you around, Officer.” Carlos was gone before he had even finished his sentence. He found TK leaning against one of the cocktail tables, animatedly chatting with another old friend. He looked up and smiled when he saw Carlos approaching and thanked him for the mineral water with a smile. Carlos put an arm around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head when he leaned towards him. 

 TK looked up at him, “Everything okay?”

 “Yeah,” Carlos said lightly, “just some guy at the bar who couldn’t take a hint.”

 “Can you blame him? You look quite sexy in that suit; in case you hadn’t noticed.”

 Carlos shrugged, “Too bad for him there is only one man on this rooftop I’m interested in.” 

 TK shook his head fondly and placed his hand on top of the one resting on his shoulder. “You’re a menace,” he accused lightly. 

 Carlos nodded, “Guilty as charged.” He glanced around the room, “Any sign of the asshole?” 

 TK shook his head, not even bothering to correct him, “No, but I’m sure he’s here somewhere. He’ll find me at some point I’m sure; he always was fond of making a scene.” 

 Carlos scowled and TK laughed, “We’re at a wedding Carlos, relax. It’ll all be fine.” 

 Carlos turned to look at TK head-on. He searched TK’s face for any sign he was lying or putting on a front. “You’re sure,” he observed, unable to keep a note of surprise out of his voice, “why?” 

 “Because being here, seeing everyone again; it’s nice, but it doesn’t feel like home. I love the city, but it doesn’t feel like home anymore either.”

 “And Austin is?”

 TK nodded, “I guess it is. My team is there, my dad is there, you’re there. Wherever you are will always be home to me.” 

 Carlos’s breath caught in his throat. He searched TK’s face for any sign that this was a joke, something he was saying to placate or amuse Carlos. But he saw nothing but sincerity in his green eyes. “TK…” he began, though he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say.

 TK turned to face him, looking him in the eyes as he took the hand that had been on his shoulder in his own, intertwining their fingers. “Austin is my home because you are there,” he said firmly, “You are my home now, Carlos.”

 Carlos swallowed thickly. He didn’t know what to say, so he used their clasped hands to pull him away from the table, to a more secluded corner of the rooftop. When they came to a halt TK was looking at him in confusion, “Why are we over here?” 

 “Because I wanted to do this and I didn’t want to be rude to the other guests.” He pulled TK closer and kissed him deeply, trying to pour all the things he couldn’t find the words to say into it. 

 TK responded eagerly, and when they separated, it was with beaming smiles. 

 “I don’t know,” TK began coyly, “it seems a waste to walk all this way and only do that once.”

 Carlos chuckled, “And you call me a menace.” But he obliged, leaning down to kiss TK again, and again.

 ----

 Eventually, they rejoined the party. Shortly after they realized that they had wandered away from their drinks in Carlos’s hurry to find a secluded corner so TK volunteered to head to the bar to get replacements, leaving Carlos in conversation with one of the other guests: a Texas transplant who was all too eager to talk to Carlos about their home state. 

 He made his way to the bar and placed his order, leaning back on the bar and watching the crowd as he waited. He had wanted to come to be here for his friends, but he couldn’t deny that he had been nervous. He hadn’t been sure what it would feel like to be back; if the urge to drop back into old habits would be stronger than his will to keep moving forward. He hadn’t been sure he was ready to be back, to be confronted with all the old memories. 

 Now, on this rooftop in this city that he loved with Carlos; he was glad they had come. He was glad he had taken this risk. Sure, there was still the problem of Alex, but TK had meant what he said to Carlos – he wasn’t worried about it. He was with Carlos, and he was happy. Nothing Alex could do or say would change that. It had been a different person who had left the city all those months ago; someone unsure of what they wanted and caught up in someone else’s turmoil. He still wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t that person anymore. Who he was now was someone who had no place for Alex in his life; everything that he was belonged with Carlos.

 The universe must have a well-developed sense of irony, because no sooner had the thought left his head than a familiar voice sounded at his ear. “You sure you should be by a bar TK?”

 TK resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned to find Alex standing next to him. “Hi Alex,” he said blandly.

 Alex took a step closer, undeterred by TK’s unenthusiastic tone. “It’s good to see you,” he said, leaning closer, “I heard you got hurt a while ago at work, I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

 TK leveled his gaze at Alex, “I was shot in the chest and spent four days in a coma,” he said plainly, “but it’s good to know that you were so concerned you couldn’t even be bothered to call.”

 Alex continued on; unbothered or unaware of TK’s sarcasm, “When I heard about it, I was terrified. The thought that something could happen to you just made me so scared, and it made me realize how much I still care about you.”

 He moved closer; he was almost on top of TK now. “I’m sorry for what I did, but I think that the fact that we are both here is a sign that maybe we’re meant to have a second chance.”

 He looked at TK expectantly, but all TK could do was stare.

 He didn’t have the slightest idea how to respond to that. He had never read the manual on what to do when the guy you broke up with when you proposed because he was cheating cornered you at a wedding and wanted you back. Really, the whole thing was ridiculous. He burst out laughing, and Alex frowned.

 TK took a deep breath, controlling his laughter, “I’m sorry, I know you were trying to have a moment; but did you honestly think that would work?”

 Alex recoiled, finally taking a step away from TK, “I broke up with Mitchell TK, we can be together again.”

 TK couldn’t believe him. “You really think that’s the issue here?” he asked incredulously.

 Alex continued, “I know what I did was wrong but I was confused; I want to go back to how things were.”

 “You’re really not getting it are you Alex, it’s not happening. I don’t even live here anymore.”

 Alex scoffed, “Well obviously you’d need to move back from Arkansas or wherever, but New York is your home anyways, you belong here.”

 “First of all, Texas. I live in Texas. Secondly, you really think I am going to upend my entire life and move across the country again for you? That’s not happening; I’ve moved on.”

 Alex blinked at him, “But you love me.”

 TK narrowed his eyes. He could see the drinks he had order appear at his shoulder, but he made no move to even acknowledge the bartender; his focus was solely on Alex.

 “I loved you. That was my mistake.”

 Now Alex outright glared at him, all pretenses of wooing him into coming back gone, “You don’t honestly think you’re going to be able to find someone else willing to deal with all your issues, do you TK? I know what happened before you left New York. I know you relapsed. Who is going to want to be with an addict who can’t even manage to stay clean?”

 He froze. All of those logical arguments he had, all of the ways he was going to tell Alex to fuck off flew out of his mind. The look on Alex’s face was smug – he had hit a pressure point and he knew it. TK thought of all the things he could say; all the ways in which he was better now, stronger now. All the ways he had healed. But Alex knew exactly what he was doing – he always had. He had hit TK at his weakest point, and he had not pulled his punch.

 He was still frozen when a warm hand landed on his shoulder, and a familiar voice sounded from his side, “Someone who knows how to appreciate what a wonderful person he is, unlike some.”

 Carlos. Carlos had appeared out of nowhere and was now staring Alex down with a look of disdain on his face. “You must be Alex, I assume.”

 Alex was looking from TK to Carlos in surprise. “You’re…” he began, but Carlos cut him off.

 “I told you I was here with my boyfriend. You just never asked who that was.”

 Now it was TK’s turn to look between the two of them in surprise. The pieces clicked, and TK almost laughed. Here Alex was declaring his love for him, promising him he had changed but he had been flirting with his boyfriend not even an hour before. It was the reminder he needed – Alex would never change. He had no right lecturing TK for his mistakes. It had been Alex’s problem that had led to the end of their relationship after all, not TK’s.

 Carlos went to speak again but TK laid a hand on his arm. He looked over at him and they locked eyes, before Carlos nodded; stepping back slightly.

 TK turned back to Alex, “I have no interest in ever doing anything with you ever again. I’m worth a lot more than you think, and I’ve learned I deserve a lot better than you.”

 Alex tried to respond, tried to interrupt but TK did not pause, “honestly, I kind of want to punch you right now and I know it would feel so good, but this is my friends’ wedding and that would be rude. Try to find someone else to dupe I guess.”

  With that he grabbed the drinks and Carlos’s hand and left the bar and Alex behind.

 “Have I mentioned lately that I find you very impressive?” Carlos murmured as they disappeared into the crowd of wedding guests.

TK smiled, “Maybe, but I never get tired of hearing it.”

“Well, you are one impressive guy TK Strand, and I love that about you.”

----

 They go to get pizza after the reception, because TK insists. 

 Carlos wants to argue that it is almost one in the morning, no one could possibly be open and serving pizza at this time, but TK is persistent; he follows him onto the subway with no more than a skeptical expression. When the C train grinds to a halt at the 50th street stop, TK grabs Carlos’s hand and leads him towards the exit and 9th Ave. They walk in companionable silence, hands intertwined and shoulders brushing until they reach a non-descript store front with a short line out the door. The sign above the awning proudly proclaims, “pizza slice $1” and the red awning below simply reads “#1 pizza” without any other context or information. 

 “Does this place even has a name?” he asked curiously. 

 Tk considered, and shook his head, “You know, I actually don’t know.”

 Carlos shakes his head, baffled. “New York is weird,” he notes.

 “But where else in the world can you get a one-dollar slice of pizza that is actually decent? At 1 in the morning?”

 Carlos had to concede that point, if nothing else. They wait in line, enjoying the soft late-night breeze and each other’s company. It is comfortable; familiar even in an unfamiliar setting.

 They get their pizza and settle onto a bench down the block. TK is watching him, his own slice waiting in his lap. Carlos raised an eyebrow at him.

 “I’m waiting to see your reaction to authentic NYC pizza,” he explained, “and for the opportunity to say I told you so, obviously.”

 “Brat,” Carlos muttered, but picked up his slice regardless. He followed TK’s gestures and folded it in half before taking a bite of the piping hot cheesy slice. There was quiet for a few moments as he chewed, and TK watched him expectantly. He swallowed and met TK’s gaze, “It’s pretty good,” he allowed, and TK smiled smugly.

 “I told you it was the best pizza in the world,” he reminded Carlos.

 “The pizza in Austin is perfectly fine,” Carlos said defensively.

 “But this is better, isn’t it?”

 Carlos sighed; there was no point in lying about it, “I guess,” he replied with an air of defeat. TK punched the air triumphantly and Carlos couldn’t hold back a fond smile at the sight. “You know,” he ventures, “they say gloating is very unbecoming.”

  TK looked at him with a suggestive eyebrow raised, “They do, do they?”

  Carlos made a sound of affirmation and TK grinned, “What are your thoughts on the subject?”

  “I think,” Carlos began, “that whoever said that had never met you. I don’t think there is anything you could do to that would be considered unbecoming.”

 TK leaned closer to him, “In that case we must make quite a pair, because I was going to say the same about you.”

 Carlos shook his head fondly before returning to his slice.

 They ate in comfortable silence, surrounded by the nighttime happenings of Manhattan. Carlos had always figured that the name “city that never sleeps” had been a bit of an exaggeration but being here was making him start to believe it. The quality of the pizza and the truth of that cliché were not the only things he had learned during this trip. He had discovered so much about TK during this trip. Everything he had chosen to show him, every interaction with an old friend had given him another piece of that puzzle he had been trying to solve since that first night they met.  

 They sat quietly, each enjoying their pizza and their own thought until TK breaks the silence.

 “Thank you,” he says suddenly.

 Carlos looks up from his pizza, confused. “Thank you for what?”

 “For this, for being you. This and all the other little moments we have. I love that we can just be together, that our company is enough.”

 Carlos smiled at him, “I like that too.”

 TK returned the smile, but his voice was tense as he continued, “it was never like that with Alex. We always had to be doing something, be seen somewhere. He was all about appearances, and I was definitely a part of that. I just can’t believe it took me so long and so much to figure that out.”

 “Sometimes it’s hard to see the forest through the trees,” Carlos responded with a shrug. When TK gave him a surprised look he rushed to explain, “it means…”

 TK shook his head, “I know what it means, I was just surprised by how accurate it was.”

 “It’s hard to see a situation clearly when you’re inside of it. That’s true for everyone TK, it doesn’t mean that you are any worse than anyone else.”

 “I guess,” TK relented. “Still, thank you. This is much better. If I had known what was waiting for me, I would have ditched New York ages ago to come find you in Austin.”

 Carlos laughed, “it’s pretty flattering to know that I have more appeal than the Big Apple. Though I have to say; spending some time here, I like it more than I thought I would.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah. The Statue of Liberty was cool and Central Park is gorgeous, but so far I think my favorite part has been seeing the neighborhood you grew up in, and the skate park where you thought you could be the next Tony Hawk.”

 “I was good enough,” TK muttered, “I just decided to pursue a different path.”

 Carlos nodded and smiled down into TK’s hair, “I’m sure you were, babe. But my point is that I’ve loved seeing all these things from your past. You may not be proud of all of it and you’ve made mistakes like we all have, but all of those things are what make you you; and I happen to be in love with you, so those are my favorite things of all.”

 TK was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, voice thick with emotion, but still teasing. “Does this mean you want to go see my high school tomorrow?”

 Carlos burst out laughing, “I’ll be happy to see anything you want to show me Ty, but if we do go to your high school, I’m afraid I’m going to have to demand pictures of awkward teen TK.”

 TK scoffed, “Like my dad hasn’t already shown you all of them.”

 There was silence for a little while as they sat intertwined on the bench. It was TK who broke the silence, his voice warm, but thick, “I just really love you; you know that right?”

 Carlos hummed in agreement as he kissed the top of TK’s head, “Yeah I do. Probably because I feel the same way about you.”

 TK chuckled lightly, “This seems to be quite a predicament we’ve gotten ourselves into Officer Reyes, what do you think we should do about it?”

 “Well,” Carlos said, pausing as if considering, “I suppose we’ll just have to deal with it.”

 “Sounds awful,” TK said lightly, “I don’t know how we’ll manage.”

 Carlos laughed and leaned down to kiss him. “Like that, I suppose,” he said when they separated.

 TK nodded, “I guess that’ll have to do.”

 Carlos chuckled and pulled him closer. He rested his head on Carlos’s shoulder and they sat there in companionable silence for a while, watching city life happen around them. It was nice to linger in this moment. There was a whole world happening around them, but they were safe here, secure in each other; unbothered by it all for just a little while.

 It was a nice moment, but eventually Carlos couldn’t hold back the yawn that had been threatening any longer. The sound broke the spell and Carlos made a sound of protest as TK pulled away from him.

 “Nope, you’re tired, we’re heading back to the hotel,” TK stated, offering up a hand to help Carlos off the bench. He took it, but once he was standing, he adjusted his grip so their fingers were intertwined once again. TK smiled at him, squeezing the hand holding his.

 “It’s probably about a 10 minute walk back to the hotel, do you feel up to it or do you want to catch a cab instead?”

 “I’m up for anything as long as I get to be with you.”

 TK stifled a laugh and shook his head, “I forget how sappy you can be when you are tired. We’ll grab a cab, then.”

 “No,” Carlos protested, “it’s nice out, let’s walk.”

 TK shook his head at him fondly, “Okay, you win. Let’s go.”

 They walked back in relative silence, but Carlos spent the time savoring everything about this moment. The sounds of the city; the feel of the night air just turning cool. The presence of TK besides him; his hand in his. Carlos committed every moment to memory. To be loved by TK Strand was a privilege, and Carlos intended to remember every moment.

 ---

 Two days later, TK and Carlos were standing across the street from the 252 station again. They had just left lunch with Sania and Andi and were due to fly back to Austin later that night. They should probably be packing, but TK felt there was still one more thing he had to do.

 He was looking up at the building with trepidation. Carlos was watching him closely.

 “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, that hasn’t changed.”

 TK nodded, “I know that, but I think I need to. This place, these people were a huge part of my life. When I left, I was in such a bad place. Coming here now; I think it’s the closure I need. They deserve it too, I think.”

 Carlos studied him. He seemed so much lighter than the last time they had stood here on this sidewalk. This trip, the chance to revisit his past; to get some closure, had done him a world of good. It made Carlos’s heart swell to him so sure, so calm.

 “I’m proud of you, you know,” he said.

 TK raised an eyebrow, but there was a soft smile on his face, “hold on to that thought, because that may change when you hear some of the stories they’re sure to tell you. Some of these people have known me my whole life, most have known me since I was at least a probie.”

 “Well we’re definitely going in then, and you know I am asking specifically for those stories, right?”

 TK shook his head and laughed, “I’d expect nothing less.”

 He took Carlos’s hand in his and led him across the street, towards the station.

 This station and these people were another piece of the puzzle that made up TK Strand. Carlos had been slowly gathering them since the night they met. Some came easily, others were harder to get. Some made him laugh while others made his heart ache. Slowly though, they were coming together. Slowly the whole picture was coming into view. It was one Carlos was so eager to see; even if it took a lifetime to figure out.

Leave a comment on Ao3 if you’d like 

[biscuitfam]

Past, Present, and Future

Summary: Being married to the Doctor has many perks as well the downfalls and the confusing paradoxical moments. Hurt though, emotional hurt, wasn’t something that came often. However there you all were. All four of you. A past, present, and future.

WC: 1880k

Pairing: 10th doctor x reader, 11th doctor x reader, River

Warnings/Tags: ANGST, mentions of cheating(?) maybe, not really.

A/N:  So I might make this into a multi chapter fic, but I’m not sure. Also! I’ve decided I’m going to make a subpages for my Supernarual fics as this is primarily turning into a DW blog Also! I came up with this fic from a dream I had 😂

Part two possibly?

Also, if you enjoy my content consider buying me a ko-fi to support this broke college student  >  Here!

“ I don’t want to go-“ A brilliant explosion of light filled the room breaking items in its wake. The TARDIS crying in pain as she lost control and begun falling through the sky. Crying in pain alongside the Doctor who clutched his head in agony.

Then, he changed. The Doctor had changed. Every bit of him totally different. New face. New voice. New attitudes. Your future husband, then secret boyfriend, glanced up to you as he sat on his knees and hair flattened to his head. Eyes full of sorrow and longing. Regret. He changed on you, however, you knew it was coming. You didn’t expect it to be so soon.

He changed into the man you had grown to love, although pain stuck within you as you had to grow to trust him again. The man you would marry. However, currently he sat as the man you had fallen for so helplessly yet he knew nothing of this as the relationship had to be secretive.

—

It had been twelve years after crash landing in the back of Amelia Pond’s garden resulting in the demise of the shed. Little Amelia had grown into the feisty redhead who, currently harassing Rory and fondling his hair, begun to travel with you and your now husband. The road to this hadn’t been easy. Being married to the Doctor had many perks as well the downfalls and the confusing paradoxical moments. The icon trio always managed some sort of trouble that would result you, the so called ‘motherly figure’ to swoop in and save their asses.

Amy and Rory had destroyed your concept of a complete linear timeline, well, a somewhat straight timeline that is. Time was never linear. Never occurring in the exact spots and always changing to accommodate changes. Although, when Mel turned into River a wave of hurt blew through you in remembrance of th library and what could come in future’s time.

Another woman would come and shake things up with your own timeline with the Doctor in ways you would never expect. Nothing hurt you more than the night you found out he would marry River in the future, and they indeed loved each other. You may or may not have snooped in her diary some..and hell did it hurt. You found out about all the secrets, all the lies, the future they had together; and the moments that the Doctor hid from you. However, the reality did not strike fully until the notes started coming true in front of your eyes. Curiosity has certainly killed the cat.

One thing that rung clear through all her tear stained letters is that she was perusing him, not the other ways around. While it did put some hope into you, it still hurt knowing he was feeding into it and you, his wife, had to watch the play act itself out as his future would be to marry another. Even if it was ‘beneficial’ and ‘save the integrity of human life as it is’ it was a cheap shot to the self esteem. Her written words burned your eyes and heart. You had written down the bolder dates within her book to keep a record for yourself and today was the Pandorica and also the day the Doctor reboot the universe for a Big Bang Two.

Then it happened. Everything went white as the Doctor’s screams sounded. The pure agony within his screams. The unfiltered, raw screams that tore your heart completely in two and made you forget all about the hurt you were feeling that he knew nothing of. Knowing his own future would make him go out of his way to purposely change it and quite possibly muck things up in the process. Although, he did have such a soft spot for the curly haired, curvy woman already. The white light got brighter and brighter before you felt like you were being completely obliterated.

Your own screams were the last thing you heard before blackness and slumber overtook you.

—

You woke to the feel of cold metal on your skin and puffs of steam hitting the back of your legs, thus resulting in rather uncomfortable wet denim patches rubbing against your skin. A large shadow stood hovering over you quite yet calculating as you raised yourself in to proper elbows trying to focus your eyes. That was until they locked onto a pair of cream converse standing right ahead of you. Those shoes, sand shoes, were the most recognizable clothing item in space and time - well, in your opinion anyway. The Doctor would beg to differ. Part of you wanted to close your eyes and beg for this to be a dream, while another wished to never go back. This was before all the pain and future knowledge.

“ What?” He asked as you stood, eyes blown wide open now at the realization it was you, “ What? What? I don’t quite understand...what?” He pulled away slightly and threaded a hand through his hair, “ You’re not wearing a vortex manipulator, I know for a fact I have implanted that cheap time travel is dangerous. I just dropped you off at home and you managed to pop back in? Was this Jack?” The man rambled on in confusion, meanwhile you sat in the captain’s chair amused yet annoyed at the daft alien.

“ Okay, long story short for you. First, I’m from your future and your future self reset time itself thus some cosmic mistake to cause me to be thrown into my past and disrupt my timeline.” This caused the man to raise a brow before you raised a long finger, however, his eyes caught a glance at the shiny ring placed upon it. You slowly covered your hands with your sleeves and gave him a slight smirk, “ No you can’t know.”

“ Is he at least good to you, your husband?” This question caused pain in your heart, especially at the saddened look in his eyes. You remembered this. He had dropped you off at home after a rather heated argument about what the two of you were -- things were said and feeling were hurt.

--

“ Y/N, please come back!” The Doctor’s words echoed within your ears as you went towards the doors with backpack already in tow. You wanted more than stolen kisses and in secret sweet nothings, you wanted more than him having doge around Rose to protect her feelings that she had towards him.

“ It’s either me or her, Doctor. I don’t want to do this to you - I really, truly don’t. But I can’t sit here and watch this. It just gets hard, always being someone’s second choice. I’ll be back, I just need to..calm down.”

--

“ Yes he is,” You smiled and looked up to the man and waved your head to dismiss his quizzing look, “ No details. You’ve taught me well enough.” You stood and circled around the console nervously with sweaty hands rubbing together. 

“ We do need to get me back to the right timeline though, if I remember right I’ll be back by morning-” You glanced to the computer screen and grimaced,“ Eight hours.”

The Doctor grabbed your had and gave it a soft squeeze his, a very comforting squeeze that caused tears to well in your eyes. He shook his head and made you stop in your wake, “ Whatever you tell me now must have been a part of my future self’s memories, correct? Y/N, tell me..what did your husband do? Why are you crying? And where am I?”

The Doctor sat with his head buried in his hands after the somewhat in depth explanation utterly baffled. How could he be so..dumb? Act so human? He went through the information once more through his head attempting to find somewhere to fix this. He still with you in his future, but he has another woman he’s destined to marry; You left out the bit that you had stolen from her journal. You knew future events before they even had, they being himself.

“ Right! Here’s what we’re going to do-” The man jumped to his feet and begun to fiddle with the switches and type in the year you were supposedly supposed to be in your time. 

-

Present time: 1:40pm, Location, The Tarids. After the reboot things quickly got back on track and to the best field of normalcy as it could for the Ponds, however, the Doctor had hauled himself underneath the TARDIS floors in his swing. She never really needed a fixing, however, the old gal took the tinkering with the occasional groan in means to let the Doctor self sooth. 

After the reboot everything had fallen back into it’s place once again with the Doctor traveling with Amy and Rory. River also being on board currently..but you were missing. It had been a few months since the reboot occurred, and he hardly slept or ate. He had become withdrawn in an attempt of searching for you that he had become blind sided about River’s intentions. She kept pushing herself in between the two of you.

“ She’s kot here anymore, sweetie. We’ve tried. Let me help you-“ Her words swirled in his head and caused him to grit his teeth. How could she be so cunning? So cruel? He never thought she could act in such a way. Surely she was flirty, but that was her nature and attitudes. The man dropped this tools to the grated floor, groaned, and placed a greasy hand over his eyes.

How could he have been so blind to you? He had noticed the signs, noticed your uncomfortable nature around the woman before the reboot occurred. He had passed it off as stress. A loud siren started blaring throughout the console room and the lights flashed red as the console was becoming compromised.

“ No, No, No! What now? What could be so bloody important to need me?” The man slipped from the swing and marched up the stairway, sliding past a River who bound down from her bedroom to see what had occurred.

“ What’s going on, Doctor? I tried to stop the signals from whatever is pulling us-“ He cut her short as he attempted to wriggle past her and get to the screens, not saying a word.

Even the emergency systems set in place were compromised. Whatever or whoever had full control over the TARDIS he couldn’t figure out.

“ There is nothing we can do, River. If I attempt to reroute is we would get thrown off course and quite possibly cause a rift-“ He gestured with his hands by holding them closed then slowly opening them, “ A rift would either swallow us all into a pocket universe or cause more timeline issues..however, it’s hard to tell. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen either way.”

The man stopped in his tracks and looked towards her with a pale face, “ The only way this may be possible is if I crossed my own timeline. I would never—“ He stopped point blank and let out a small laugh that soon escalated into a rather sad, hysterical one.

“ I remember this. This is the day I get Y/N back.”

[johaerys-writes]

Chapter 14: Cobwebs and Oathstones

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Aran Trevelyan/Tristan Trevelyan

Summary:

Aran and Tristan are childhood friends. Best friends. Brothers, almost. They’ve been inseparable since the moment they met, one rainy autumn day underneath the maple tree in the school playground.

Best friends don’t fall in love with each other. Surely not.

The new chapter of my and @oftachancer​’s collaborative fic, featuring her OC Aran and my OC Tristan is up! Where the Terrible T’s venture into the ancient catacombs underneath the Trevelyan manor, and discover something... unexpected 👀

Read more on AO3,  or start from the beginning :)

****

“Oh, wow!” Tilly exclaimed, turning her head to look around the catacombs like a curious bird. “This place is huge!”

“It is!” Aran replied. “There’s loads of stuff down here. Last time, Tris and I found this massive set of armour that belonged to a great uncle of yours- was it Trevor Trevelyan?”

“Trenton Trevelyan the Third,” Tristan grumbled, illuminating the corridor before them with the torch.

“Aye, that’s the one! He had this huge sword, too, right, absolutely massive. Tris said he could wield it one handed, but Void knows how he did it because that thing was- Ah! What- Is that a spider?!” Aran spun in a circle, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck- get it off, get it off!” Tilly gasped and ran to his side, patting down his hair and his back, while Aran’s cries echoed deafeningly down the corridor.

Tristan sighed, wondering whether people would notice it if he locked them both in the catacombs and then fled.

“I don’t see a spider, munchkin,” Tilly said worriedly, biting her lip as she searched through Aran’s hair. “Maybe it was just your imagination.”

“I hate them. I hate them.” Aran twisted to look back over his shoulder, aiming his light at himself. “So many feckin’ legs,” he shivered, tugging his hood up over his head and cinching it tight. He looked to Tristan, biting his lip, fingers flexing in that way they did at school or at parties right before he suggested they find somewhere to go that wasn’t people. Right before he reached for him and tucked his palm against Tristan’s and gave that quiet sigh that was the first of many as hand holding progressed to other things… Aran held his gaze in the dark and shoved his hands and his torch into the pouch of his sweatshirt. “It was a big sword,” he finished lamely.

Tristan swallowed thickly, looking away. He didn't like that he couldn't hold his hand, or kiss him. He didn't like hiding what they had from Tilly, of all people. But it was still so early. Tristan hadn't fully understood what was happening between them himself, and if he told Tilly, she would have questions. He wouldn't last a moment under her scrutiny. And she might tell Mother, or someone else and then...

"Right," he said abruptly, marching ahead. "The room is not too far from here. We can go there first and check the sword after we're done." He would think about it all later. Now was not the time.

"Oh, yes, we should!" Tilly said excitedly. "Swords are so fun. Remember when we went to the Ostwick History Museum with school, three years ago? All those sets of armour! All those swords! Those lances! They were so shiny. And I loved the engravings. Some of them were absolutely beautiful- they don't make them like that anymore. Well, they don't make them at all anymore, which is a pity if you ask me. Oh! Wouldn't it be fun if we had armour and swords made for the three of us? I bet we would all look smashing. The Terrible T's: Fourth Blight edition." She threaded her arm through Aran's, grinning.

“So long as it’s without the actual Blight.” Aran leaned into her, eyeing the webs they passed under with suspicion. “You should see the armor we found down here, too! When we found it, Tris said he’d wear it. You’re pretty tall. Might suit you better.”

“It looked heavy," Tristan said. “Even if both of you got in it, I don’t think you’d be able to lift it.”

“So you’d be able to lift it and the both of us wouldn’t?” Tilly sniffed. “Someone has a big idea of themselves.”

“No,” Tristan rolled his eyes, “I just call things how I see them.” He quickened his step, walking well ahead of them. The sooner they reached the blighted room, the sooner they’d leave. He hoped. “We’re close. Aran, is your torch working?”

“Hm?” Aran was walking with his chin perched on Tilly’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. “No hands. Don’t know.”

Tilly laughed, reaching into Aran’s sweatshirt pouch. “Here. I’ve got it.” She switched it on, illuminating the corridor before them. “You know, I learnt a spell last year that gives you light without using a torch. Some mages use it with a wand or a staff, but I can cast it without one! Although Mistress Anaan said it’s dangerous and that she would punish anyone who tried it. Oh, I wish I could show you! If only we were allowed to use magic outside the Circle. Think we’re deep enough into the earth now to not be detected? I’ve heard that when mages go into the Deep Roads, the magic detectors can’t sense them at all, so they can cast as many spells as they like. Regina, the new transfer from the Lake Callenhad Circle, was telling us that many mages from their Circle were sent to the Deep Roads in Orzammar to test out new spells that they didn’t want the government to know about. It was all very hush-hush, you understand. That is if she was telling the truth, which I’m not entirely sure she was. She told Gianna that Bastien asked her out, and Gianna told me, because she knows I know Bastien, and we sit next to each other in my Arcane magic class. So I asked Bastien-"

"Don't forget to breathe, Til," Tristan said teasingly.

"Oh, shush, you," his sister laughed. "Anyway- where was I?"

"What did Bastien say?" Aran asked, blinking up at her.

"Oh, yes! So. Bastien said he only texted her once, and that was to ask her to bring him back a pouch of crystal grace powder that he had lent her. So I’m not really sure what to make of her. Maybe she lies about some things, but not others." She tapped her chin with her finger, then made a vague gesture in the air, shaking her head. "Anyway. Top secret expeditions into the Deep Roads sound very, very interesting, if you ask me. I do hope they’re true. I do hope they send me there someday! I want to do all the research. All the spells! I might even come up with one that sends all the spiders running. I bet there’s loads of them in the Deep Roads. Then I’ll show you how to do it, Aran! Oh.” She paused, frowning. “It’s a pity you’re not a mage. We would have had so much fun together in the Circle. But that’s alright! When I go to the Deep Roads, I’ll take you with me. And I’ll keep you safe from all the spiders,” she grinned, pinching his chin.

“If you come up with a spell that scares spiders of all shapes and sizes, they’ll give you an award and a duchy,” Aran beamed at her. “I will. I’ll found a feckin’ kingdom and hand you the keys to it.” He nudged her with his shoulder, “Anyway, Miri’s there if you want a dose. She’s fun.”

"Oh, yes! Miranda's lovely. I see her from time to time, but she's usually busy. She's working really hard on her apprenticeship. Her blue robes suit her very nicely. I can't wait to get started on my own. Mistress Anaan said I might be able to start early if I pass all my exams with good marks next year. I'm thinking Arcane or Primal. Everyone says they're tough, but I think they're both fascinating. Oh! Is this the room?" She cast the light of her torch on the door that Tristan had stopped before.

Tristan took a hesitant step forward, let his gaze glide over the engravings on the door's surface. "Yes. That's the one."

"Oooh." Tilly's eyes widened. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get in!"

Tristan reached for the doorknob, his heart thrumming in his chest. The door protested loudly as he pushed it open, raising a cloud of dust in its wake. "Okay," he said, standing aside. "On you go. Search to your heart's content."

“You’re really not coming in?” Aran asked quietly.

Tristan let out a slow exhale through his nose. "I am. In- in a minute." He watched as Tilly walked forward, swinging the light of the torch in a wide arc around the room, before stopping at the large stone in its center.

"Oh, my. Sweet Maker! Is that the stone? The oath stone? Quick, Aran, get your notebook out! I need to get a good look at those runes. We should take all of them down- but first, we must figure out what they mean. Some runes activate as soon as they're written in order. Wouldn't want to set something on fire before we've had a chance to study them. Although that would be fascinating in its own right. Do we have any water in case that happens…? Oh, well, we'll just need to be careful."

Tristan sighed, flexing and curling his hands at his sides. "I don't like this. I don't like it one bit. I told you we shouldn't have come down here."

“It’s okay,” Aran met his eyes. He shifted his backpack to his side and brushed his fingers down Tristan’s forearm behind the bulk of it. “We won’t do anything to start it up again. Just figure out what it actually is. You’ll feel better knowing, aye?”

"I don't know," Tristan mumbled, the knot in his stomach tightening. He caught Aran's pinky with his own, squeezing lightly. "Some things are better left on their own."

“But you don’t know what those do until you see what they are, eh? What if-“ Aran lifted his brows, squeezing back. “What if your great-grandad had to do something on this thing to be able to wear that armor or heft that sword? Even if you never want to do it, wouldn’t it be cool to know?”

Tristan nodded reluctantly, worrying his lip. "Okay," he said quietly. "Okay. Let's- let's just get this over with. This place is very… dusty." He scrunched his nose, looking away.

“Aye, it is. Just some notes. And then movies.” His eyes gleamed in the torchlight, the yellow making his soft blue eyes like a summer sky filled with sun. “If you want.”

Tristan swallowed thickly. Aran’s gaze on him and his fingers that threaded discreetly through his sent a rush of warmth through him. “I do,” he whispered. “You know I do. I-”

“Aran! Tris! Come, come over here! I think I know what most of these runes mean. There’s so many of them, oh, dear. Our ancestors worked really hard on this thing. Or whoever made it for them, anyway. I haven’t seen one quite like this before. And you said there was a sword, too? And a book?”

“Yes,” Tristan said, untangling his fingers from Aran’s, “there’s a sword. But I’m not touching it. And neither are you,” he glanced sharply at Aran.

“I brought gloves,” Aran smiled hopefully.

Tristan huffed and walked away from him, coming to stand over Tilly. “Right. What did you find?”

Read more on AO3!

[feirnwehr]

      𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐈: sentence memes. 

( feel free to change whatever you want. )

❛ We will learn from each other. ❜ ❛ We will start something new. ❜ ❛ There is so much to tell you. ❜ ❛ What a privilege to love you ❜ ❛ You are grace, you are light. ❜ ❛ Show me who I am and who I could be ❜ ❛ And I will try, try, try to breathe ❜ ❛ Is this what being vulnerable feels like? ❜ ❛ I'm only steady on my knees one day I'll stand on my own two feet ❜ ❛ I'll run the risk of being intimate with brokenness ❜ ❛ Show me how to struggle gracefully ❜ ❛Let the scaffolding inside of me be strong enough to hold this tired body up ❜ ❛ I was given a gift of hope ❜ ❛ I want to see your happily ever after ❜ ❛ This is your moment, don’t look down. ❜

❛ Fall in love in a single touch, and fall apart when it hurts too much? ❜ ❛ All I want is to flip a switch before something breaks that cannot be fixed. ❜ ❛ When will I feel this as vivid as it truly is ❜ ❛ Rain or shine, I don’t feel a thing, just some information upon my skin. ❜ ❛ I miss the subtle aches when the weather changed ❜ ❛ God I want to feel again ❜ ❛ It's bittersweet, it's poetry. ❜ ❛ I’m well aware of the shadows in my heart. ❜ ❛ To breaking all the rules, to breaking bread again. ❜ ❛ We’re raising our glass, ’til we’re fixed from the inside. ❜ ❛ Let's make a map of what matters most ❜ ❛ Like remembering the ashes before we burn ❜ ❛ So hold my breath for as long as I can ❜ ❛ The light goes out, my heart goes still ❜ ❛ And just like that, I believe in ghosts ❜ ❛ Love is an echo... ❜ ❛ You see God in ways I wish I could ❜ ❛ I let go and in this moment, I can breathe. ❜ ❛ A fire in the deepest part of me. ❜ ❛ The countless stars we're sleeping under, it's the brightest sparks that we remember. ❜ ❛ It once was so easy; breathe in, breathe out. ❜ ❛ I feel out of focus ❜ ❛ Each brave step forward,I take three steps behind ❜ ❛ A single loose thread and it all comes undone ❜ ❛ For in our great sorrow we learn what joy means ❜ ❛ I don't want to fight, I don't want to fight it. ❜ ❛ The dark clouds depart, and the damage is done ❜ ❛ With a broken heart, transformation begins ❜ ❛ Like wildfire, it starts in my chest ❜ ❛ I feel the pressure building until I can't breathe and it takes everything ❜ ❛ It all spills out reckless but honest words leave my mouth ❜ ❛ I couldn't make it right ❜ ❛ It's fight or flight buried in my mind ❜ ❛ A feather is a ton of bricks or maybe I'm too sensitive... ❜ ❛ From now on I'll try to listen to intuition ❜ ❛ There's magic in our bones ❜ ❛ I just need more time. ❜ ❛ it's easy to forget there's magic in all of this. ❜ ❛ I'm short of breath standing next to you ❜ ❛ You are beautiful like I've never seen ❜ ❛ Go ahead and laugh even if it hurts ❜ ❛ What if we could risk everything we have and just let our walls cave in ❜ ❛ Hold on for a minute, 'cause I believe that we can fix this over time ❜ ❛ I'm not saying perfect exists in this life ❜ ❛ I hold it all more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly ❜ ❛ Sweetheart, you look a little tired when did you last eat? ❜ ❛ Tell me, is something wrong? if something's wrong you can count on me ❜ ❛ You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat ❜ ❛ It's okay if you can't find the words ❜ ❛ Let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders ❜ ❛ Like a force to be reckoned with, a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss, I will love you with every single thing I have ❜ ❛ Like a tidal wave I'll make a mess or calm waters if that serves you best, I will love you without any strings attached ❜ ❛ It's okay if you can't catch your breath you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest ❜ ❛ No, I don't want to talk about myself ❜ ❛ I just want to build you up, build you up ’til you're good as new ❜ ❛ maybe one day, I will get around to fixing myself, too ❜ ❛ I don't even know where to start ❜ ❛ I just want to love you ❜ ❛ I just want to learn how somehow to be loved myself ❜ ❛ Already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart ❜ ❛ with or without it, I'm good enough. ❜ ❛ For the first time, I see an image of my brokenness utterly worthy of love. ❜ ❛ It's so exhausting on this silver screen where I play the role of anyone but me. ❜ ❛ I finally see myself, unabridged and overwhelmed, a mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell, but I'm slowly learning how to break this spell. ❜ ❛ I finally see myself. ❜ ❛ Now I only want what's real, to let my heart feel what it feels. ❜ ❛ leave my greatest failures on display with an asterisk; worthy of love anyway. ❜ ❛ Maybe I'm hiding behind metaphor ❜ ❛ Maybe my heart needs to break to be sure ❜ ❛ One day I'll wear it all on my sleeve the insignificant with the sacred unique ❜ ❛ But I've fallen in love with a ghost ❜ ❛ I lost my balance when I needed it most ❜ ❛ I'm stuck swimming in shadows down here it's been forever since I came up for air ❜ ❛ A reflection of magnificence hidden in you maybe even in me ❜ ❛ I want to watch the universe expand ❜ ❛ I want to break it into pieces small enough to understand ❜ ❛ It feels like an out of body experience ❜ ❛ And now I can't put my mind to rest and I can't help but second guess ❜ ❛  I was already brave enough to let go ❜ ❛ And now I want to generously lose this energy that I've been hanging onto so desperately ❜ ❛ I finally feel the universe expand it's hidden in heartbeats, exhales ❜ ❛ I had the most vivid dream my feet had left the ground i was floating to heaven but I could only look down ❜ ❛ Oh God I'm so tired of being afraid ❜ ❛ My mind was heavy running ragged with worst-case scenarios ❜ ❛ what would it feel like to put this baggage down? ❜ ❛ somewhere in the middle, I feel a little paralyzed but maybe I'm stronger than I realize ❜ ❛ I wanna believe no, I choose to believe ❜ ❛ Fear won't go away but I can keep it at bay and these invisible walls just might keep us safe ❜ ❛ And I'll learn to breathe deep and make peace with the stars ❜ ❛ And no matter what somehow we'll be okay don't be afraid ❜ ❛ How nice it'd be if we could try everything i’m serious, let's make a list and just begin ❜ ❛ "What about danger?" So what. "What about risk?" ❜ ❛ How wonderful to see a smile on your face ❜ ❛ I'm restless for whatever comes next ❜ ❛ I'm hungry for whatever comes next ❜ ❛ It feels like sinking when I'm standing in one place ❜ ❛ When everything feels heavy, I've learned to travel light ❜ ❛ But I want to be here truly be here ❜ ❛ I feel hope deep in my bones that tomorrow will be beautiful ❜ ❛ I'm ready restless and hungry ❜ ❛ I was just a kid who grew up strong enough to pick this armor up and suddenly it fit ❜ ❛ God, that was so long ago, I was little, I was weak, perfectly naive and I grew up too quick ❜ ❛ Now you won't see all that I have to lose and all I've lost in the fight to protect it ❜ ❛ I won't let you in. I swore never again- I can't afford, no, I refuse to be rejected ❜ ❛ I want to break these bones 'til they're better I want to break them right and feel alive ❜ ❛ You were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong- my healing needed more than time ❜ ❛ When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things I see the familiar I was little, I was weak, I was perfect too, now I'm a broken mirror ❜ ❛ I can't afford to let myself be blindsided ❜ ❛ I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart and all I want is to trust you ❜ ❛ Show me how to lay my sword down for long enough to let you through ❜ ❛ Here I am, pry me open what do you want to know? ❜ ❛ I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence but here's a map, here's a shovel, here's my achilles' heel ❜ ❛ I’m all in, palms out, I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in ❜ ❛ I'll shake the ground with all my might I will pull my whole heart up to the surface ❜ ❛ For the innocent, for the vulnerable, I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose ❜ ❛ I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, I'll give my sweat- an ocean of tears will spill for what is broken ❜ ❛ I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again invincible like I've never been ❜ ❛ Who am I to say what any of this means- I have been sleepwalking since I was fourteen ❜ ❛ Honestly, it's easier to let myself forget ❜ ❛ I've been less than half myself for more than half my life ❜ ❛ Wake up fall in love again ❜ ❛ There's so much worth fighting for you'll see ❜ ❛ It looks like empathy to understand all sides ❜ ❛ I'm just trying to find myself through someone else's eyes ❜ ❛ So show me what to do to restart this heart of mine how do I forgive myself for losing so much time? ❜ ❛ A little at a time I feel more alive ❜