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applepi1101 · 4 years ago

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every single question with rory if you would

oh my god-

okay this is a long post I'm so sorry:

1. What’s your oc’s most irrational fear? Is there a specific reason this fear came about?

He's very afraid of going too far.. specifically when in a relationship with someone. His dad was not the best with consent and he saw how much it hurt his mom.. Rory is very careful about consent and if his partner looks even the slightest bit uncomfortable he would feel,, so bad.

2. Is your oc picky about food? What kinds of foods do they like and dislike? What do they consider a comfort or “safe” food?

He's baby he's very picky. He hates seafood. he doesn't like fish. uhhh,, he enjoys chocolate and fruity (hard)candy! also: pasta

3. What does your oc’s voice sound like? (Or, if you have one, what’s their voice claim?) Can they sing, whistle, or roll their rs? Do they have any speech impediments or notable dialects/accents?

He can sing a little, he cant do anything fancy but he has pretty good control. he can whistle really loudly and he uses it to annoy people [cough] amanda [cough]. he cant roll his rs but he will try his hardest. he sounds like alucard from Castlevania and I'm not sorry for that.

4. Is your oc good at keeping secrets?

He's pretty average at it. He tries his best but he's just as prone to slip-ups as the rest of us.

5. What kind of clothes is your oc most comfortable wearing?

He likes something comfortable when he's just hanging out in the castle. but when he has something important to do he likes to dress up a little fancy. he likes capes a lot!!

6. What kind of clothes is your oc least comfortable wearing?

probably like.. something super revealing.. he's still king and the thought of being caught out in something 'indecent' stresses him out a little. he still has a reputation to uphold.

7. What song reminds you of this oc? Does this match up with the type of music your oc likes to listen to?

World's Smallest Violin- AJR def reminds me of Rory. I think Rory would probably listen to similar music too.

8. What’s it like inside your OC's mind? (Literally, or metaphorically.)

Rory has a few worries but overall he's quite good at not letting himself get overwhelmed by things. he's genuinely full of love and it takes a lot out of him to keep all of it inside.

9. What are your oc’s goals for the future? Relationship-wise, career-wise, or other?

he kinda wants to get married. other than that he's fine with the way things are. he's definitely more of a 'in the moment' thinker. he thinks about the future when its important but he prefers to keep his mind in the present.

10. Who’s the first person your oc goes to to talk about something that made them happy? Sad? Angry?

amanda is his #1 go to. he knows that she wont judge him for anything and he's just gone to her for everything since he was a tiny little man. next would be his romantic partner and sean.

11. Does your oc have any interests/hobbies that they hide from everyone? Why do they hide these interests?

he loves collecting things!!! his favorite things to collect are probably bottle caps and coins!! he kind of only hides this because it doesn't ever come up in conversation. if you gave him a cool coin or bottle cap he would love you forever.

12. How does your oc handle talking to somebody they can’t stand? What if it’s a situation where they’re forced to work with this person?

he tries to be civil. but if they continue to piss him off then he'll become really snappy. if he's forced to work with them then he'll probably manage. he'll hate every minute of it, but he knows he has to do it.

13. What’s your oc’s dream home like?

probably something cozy. he likes the castle but it seems like so much space and a lot of it goes unused. it sounds a little silly but he kinda likes the idea of a small house in a nice neighborhood, a place he can know by heart yknow.

14. If your oc spent one day free from any consequences or recognition for their actions, how would they act?

He would probably run away lmao. not forever though, he loves his people and he would rather die than leave them with his father as their only ruler. at the moment he just has no vacation time and a day he can have just for himself would be too good for him to pass up.

15. What’s your oc’s morning routine like?

he wouldn't get up early if amanda didn't wake him up every morning. but usually around 7 or 8 he's out of bed and brushing his teeth. he has a skincare routine that i wont go into because. no. but he usually takes a while to get ready in the morning.

16. What’s your oc’s nighttime routine like?

he takes the LONGEST showers.. he likes to wait until his hair completely dries before going to bed.. so.. he usually goes to be a while after his shower :,,)

17. If your oc had a social media page, what would it be like? What would they post about? How much personal information would they feel comfortable posting on it? How often would they update it?

when he first sets up an account he would probably post about anything and everything he's interested in, after a while he would calm down a bit. he would be almost fully open about who he is online. he's well known anyway, and he has nothing to hide.

18. How does your oc see themself? How does this compare to the way other ocs see them?

He sees himself as a leader (and he is). most people would agree that he gives off 'powerful man' vibes, but the people that he's closest to know that he's just a sweetie.. he's so caring and ready to help anyone that needs it.

19. How would an enemy describe this oc?

they would probably think that he's childish. Rory is very protective of things that have been put under his protection, and he takes any loss very hard. however: Rory is good at what he does and he's always trying his best, so that might leave his enemy more than a little annoyed.

20. What’s a superpower or magical ability that this oc would hate having?

He would hate anything that involved touch.. he likes to be touchy with the people he loves so not being able to do that would upset him a lot.

21. What’s a fact you haven’t shared about this oc?

please.. this man is afraid of monkeys..

22. What’s your oc’s dream job? Is this similar to what they’re doing now? Do they believe they could ever achieve this dream?

he cant really see himself doing anything else. he was raised knowing that he was going to rule a country and he never really thought of doing something else.

23. Who would this oc consider their family? What is their relationship with these people?

his mom maybe. he hates his dad. amanda and sean are def people he considers his family. he grew up with Amanda and she's always helped him with everything. sean has been helping him out since he was fifteen and yknow. they talk about boy stuff. (also basil in that one specific au with squills mafia ocs)

24. What is one thing that, no matter who it’s coming from, would anger your oc?

Please please please, do not compare him to anyone else. he hates being compared to other people, even if its supposed to be a compliment. he spent so long being compared to his dad please just let him be his own person.

25. How does your oc handle sadness?

he doesn't get sad all that often (he usually gets angry as opposed to just.. sad..) but when he is sad he kind of.. tries to ignore it..

26. How does your oc handle anger?

he hates to admit it but he has some trouble controlling his anger... he's good at controlling his other emotions but just.. when he's angry he tends to let go of everything else and its very destructive.

27. How does your oc handle fear?

he's definitely one to ignore fear. He has a very dominant personality and his first instinct is to protect, so he finds himself ignoring his own feelings more often than not.

28. What’s your favorite thing about this oc?

he's so fun,, i love him because he just,,,, he's such a sweetie,,

29. What’s your least favorite thing about this oc?

He's probably one of my most inconsistent ocs.. his personality is somewhat unpredictable and he seems like he's always growing.. and thats a good thing but by god if it isn't hard to keep track of.

30. Tell a random fact about this oc!

he fucking loves dinosaurs.

#my oc #rory is my oc #i love him..#i am not proofreading this #im so sorry #long post!!#quinces-limbo

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fluorescentpipedream · 4 years ago

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I love when new characters talk to me, and especially when they involve established characters in what they’re telling me. So here’s a few new things

-Reverend is RJ’s son, with his brother’s wife. When RJ first came into my head, he established he was Rev’s uncle and his brother hated him because he’d fucked his wife, not once but twice. The first time was 2 days before their wedding and the second happened sometime in the middle of their marriage, before Rev was born.

Turns out there’s a bit more to that. RJ and Willow (There’s a reason all of the Jamison boys have weird names, mom was a hippie, though now she’s turned into more of a Stepford) has been dating throughout most of high school. Or...what you might call dating. RJ would take her out on his bike, they’d have sex and then get dinner somewhere before he’d take her home. He was very much in love with her but him going nowhere fast in life scared her because she wanted security more than love. RJ’s brother Darren somehow convinced her that his brother was never going to marry her, or give her a safe, secure life (he was in a gang, after all) and so she ended up running off with him. Pissed and hurt because his brother not only stole his girl but it seemed that his girl never actually loved him, RJ got her into bed with one more time, before they were married, and had his way with her. Afterward, he told her she’ll never get what she wants out of his brother, they both know she’s a trashy little whore and likes to be treated like it. She slapped him, married his brother and 2 years later had their first son, Dax. (I’ll have to figure out everyone’s ages, the way it’s looking RJ might be 50 instead of 42)

When Dax is 5, RJ was just getting out of jail and with nowhere to go, he fell onto his brother’s house in suburbia, seemingly trying to get his feet back on the ground. The Slayers have his back, of course, but he spent 7 years in jail for possession with intent to sell and was released due to overcrowding and the non-hostile nature of his crime made him less of a dangerous criminal. His brother spends several days berating RJ, continuously referring to him by Robert instead of his monicure, which he hates. When Darren leaves home for a business trip, he tells his brother he can stay for another week, then he’s got to leave. He can’t have “his type” in this neighborhood. Willow ends up crawling into bed with him the same night her husband leaves on his trip and the two spend most of that week doing nothing other than each other. Before Darren returns home, RJ tells Willow he’s leaving, she’s not going to get to keep him as a fuck toy unless she tells his brother the truth.

Afraid of losing her nice house and fancy car, she instead tells Darren that RJ raped her and threatened Dax. Darren confronts his brother and the two go at each other, ending with RJ pulling his switchblade on his brother and telling him that Willow is only with him for his money. Enraged and unable to think straight, RJ breaks into their house while the two are visiting the Hamptons and steals money that Darren has hidden, even from his wife, in Dax’s toy box. He ends up arrested, this time for trespassing but there’s no real proof he did anything. Dax had been home when it happened, never really allowed to go to the Hamptons or anywhere else with his parents and told the police that RJ only got him some water and spent the night on the floor of his room before leaving when the babysitter came back. His parents get in a little trouble because their sitter wasn’t staying all night though they claim not to know anything about that.He’d seen his uncle but refused to tattle on time, RJ never hurt him, didn’t even threaten him. (Who threatens a 5 year old?)

Willow seeks out RJ about 4 months later and says she’s pregnant with his kid and he needs to take “responsibility for his crimes against her” He tells her to get fucked, if she wants him to take care of it so bad, give him the kid. She never comes back, and 5 months later gives birth to Reverend. Her husband knows he’s RJ’s kid and they raise Rev with the same kind of hands-off, who cares as long as we’re rich, mentality that Dax had gotten up til then.

-When Rev gets into middle school he meets Zachary Sullivan, though because of a speech impediment he’s unable to say Zach, he starts calling his new friend Jax. Jax takes it, originally finding the younger boy annoying but eventually they become pretty fast friends. Especially since Jax is the “wrong sort” Willow and Darren want their son hanging around, that fuels a fire in both boys and they become inseparable. Jax learns about blood brothers from something he’s reading so he and Rev do that, cutting their hands and agreeing they will always be friends. Every attempt by Darren and Willow to separate the boys fail, and eventually Rev’s parents throw in the towel and give up altogether.

-when Jax is 19, he tries to go through the Slayers’ initiation, which culiminates in getting into a pit with the leader’s pet tiger, Zara. She’s generally well behaved but a bit battle scarred as she’s been doing this for some time. (RJ gave her the scar above her right eye when he went through it when she was still young) Rev never made it past the first round of tests, but he’s supporting Jax when he climbs into the tiger pit. Jax can’t stand the heat, though bows out gracefully as you can when faced with a massive tiger growling at you. He’s told to leave, but at least gained the respect of the Slayers.

-Jax joins a small gang of petty car thieves, and Rev does as well and over time, Jax becomes their leader, pushing the original guy down below him. Damien is pissed but Jax doesn’t stay in that position all that long. He gets involved with a man named John but is rather unceremoniously thrown into a dumpster when John’s friend Ryki, who is also a member of Jax’s gang, finds out what kind of abusive boyfriend he is.

-Rev, having just been arrested while the Jax, John and Ryki thing is happening, is bailed out by his father who is utterly disgusted by the boy with scattered tattoos, and blue streaks in his hair (which John did). While driving Rev home and angrily venting about how this behavior is going to stop, Darren pops off with how he shouldn’t be surprised, Rev is turning out just like his good for nothing father. Confused, Rev asks what he means and finds out Darren’s side of the truth, which his mother repeats, almost word for word. Angry and confused, he asks Dax, who is packing to leave home as well, not wanting to deal with this train wreck of a family anymore. Especially since their parents now have Falco, their baby brother and model to dote on and use. Dax tells him that no matter what mom and dad say, uncle RJ has never been anything but kind to him. He tells Rev that he remembers their mom going into the room RJ was staying in willingly, a lot, and only getting mad when he told her he was leaving. He also tells Rev that RJ would probably have been a better father. Dax leaves that night and never looks back, moving to Las Vegas.

-Rev originally wanted to get RJ to help him but after meeting an angry Jax after Ryki “threw him away” and his crazy mother kicked him out after finding out her son is gay, the two decide to just leave California and never look back. Rev steals about $700 from his mother’s purse, and get into Jax’s POS car. Wherever it stops, they stop. They wind up in southern Illinois, moving into a small apartment complex in Belleville together. Jax isn’t gay, he’s bi, but very homophobic even towards himself. Rev meets Drake and Jax starts dating Kristy and the rest is history.

-Skip to 2006, RJ gets a call from his sister in law out of the blue telling him that his son, Reverend, has just married a psychopath in southern IL and they now have some kind of demon spawn together, before hanging up. RJ is, admittedly, a little confused by the entire conversation and thinks nothing of it until the uprising in the Slayers following the death of their leader and Queenie’s promotion to their new leader. Some understand and follow the “family don’t end in blood” rule (meaning if you’ve been brought into the Slayers and completed the initiation through the blood rite, you become family and the selection of leaders is passed on through the lines, even if that means a 3 year old kid is now your boss) Others, like the Vikings and a handful of others tried challenging the rule, causing dissent and ultimately infighting leads to RJ getting shot, twice. The first time was from Rollo when he tried to shoot Queenie. Rollo pays for that mistake by taking a barbed wire baseball bat to the face, courtesy of RJ and dies of a broken neck. The second time is by Lisa “Lagratha” his ex-lover whom he broke up with after he starting pursuing his current girlfriend and the mother of his child. While he’s on the ground and with a bullet in his hip he realizes he has a kid he’s never known, is about to be a father again and has a grandchild and he wants to have something resrmbling a relationship with them. Even if Rev tells him to fuck off, at least he would have tried.

-RJ volunteers to go to IL and speak with the gang leaders in Chicago and the Scorpions of East St Louis, figuring he’ll stop in to see Rev and the so-called psychopath while he’s there. After being met at the border of Chicago and threatened by the Marcone crime family, he heads down to Belleville to find Reverend. What he finds is pretty close to what he’d been expecting. While Drake is a little odd, her and Rev are sweet together and the boy found genuine love with her. The two talk outside for a while, RJ tells Rev he’s about to be a father himself and would like more than anything to be part of his life and that of his granddaughter’s as well if Rev would have him. Rev doesn’t put much thought into it, telling him that he and his family are going to be moving back to LA in a few months after they settle some things here, since he got offered an internship at Henson Studios and they’re going to be closer, he’d love to have Sunny know an actual grandpa, as opposed to his now estranged parents.

-RJ tells Rev by agreeing to spend time with him, he, Drake and Sunny are coming under the protection of the Slayers and if they need anything they have a very large family watching out for them. Through Rev, he also gets to meet with the East St Louis Scorpions and strikes a deal with their leader wherein one (or more if they want)of their guys gain access to the Slayers in LA and have a permanent place in their meetings and vice versa.

-RJ has two vehicles (3 if you count the silver bullet trailer he lives in), one is a ‘96 Trans AM he’s been rebuilding for a while. This is what he drives to Illinois.

The second is his motorcycle, a Harley Davidson sportster with custom exhaust. This is what he was riding when he meet Jamie.

((Side note, Ragnar and his Vikings don’t end up leaving LA completely, as he gets involved with a good little Catholic boy, and tries to convince Ireena that he didn’t know Rollo and Floki were going to start an all out uprising with them and he, Lagretha and some younger ones would like to return to the Slayers, since no one else will have them)))

(((One other side note, RJ wears a small vial of blood around his neck hidden inside of a hollowed out bullet casing. He said it’s the leaders’ and his best friend’s blood, which he keeps close to his heart at all times. He notices that Rev wears one too and when he asks why, rev tells him it’s just a bullet from he and Jax were younger and struck up their blood brother pact. They had found the bullets along a back road and Rev emptied and cleaned them, filling them with sand and turning them into pendants that both the boys still wear. RJ makes a crack about Rev winding up like him after all when Rev tells him the relationship he and Jax have is thicker than blood. )))

#characters #new #skeet ulrich #synyster gates #gangs

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years ago

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Caramel Skin Under A Purple Rain prt 36 full draft

Standing on the stage, Keith stared down at the crowd in front of him with genuine fear in his heart. There were way too many people... way, way, way too many people. “Invited” forward by Krolia, he’d nearly tripped over his own laces before reaching her. His fingers trembling as he grabbed his wrist just above his comms. So many people were before him, and now he had to talk to all of them. Ooooh fucking quiznak. Nudged towards the podium, he couldn’t comprehend what was happening until he was standing there, Krolia whispering he needed to read his speech. Right. That thing. That thing Lance had gone and written for him because he loved him. Clearing his throat, he winced at the sound “Sorry. Sorry, I have a speech somewhere. I’m Keith, and I want to thank you all for coming today... tonight. It’s night. Where’s the damn speech...” He was failing before he started. Tapping on his comms, his speech was quick linked to the home screen. Opening it, he smiled. Lance has known this would be hard “Babe, I know I can’t stand beside you, but I love you. You don’t need to be scared. Now laugh and tell everyone how much you love me, because I am basically the best husband in the universe” His mood lifted “Sorry, my husband left me a little note at the start of the speech. I’m not exactly great at this. I’m grateful that you could all attend tonight. My husband, Lance, actually helped write my speech for me. He’s the one who’s good with words. He always has been, even back as a Paladins, he always had my back. I, uh, I want to confirm something before I start thanking everyone. Recently some lies have been printed about my husband. We are still happily married. We’re like any other couple... We’re planning on having a family. These rumours have been spread... have been spread... hold on...” His stomach dropped suddenly as if someone had kicked his knees out from beneath them. The room spinning in and out of focus for a second. Keith had no way to describe it, yet the first thing that came to mind was Lance. To the right of the stage, Melda and Regetta rushed up the stairs. Kolivan moving to intercept them. Whispering back and forth, Kolivan’s face turned grim. Nodding at the pair, they jogged off the stage. Dignitaries watching on in confusion. As the most senior Earth officer, Shiro moved to Kolivan’s side, as Krolia moved to take his hand “I’m very sorry, there seems to have been some kind of incident. I assure you, you are all perfectly safe. It seems to be a technical issue, and we need a few ticks. Thank you for your patience” Disquiet whispers rippled through crowd, turning to his mother Keith was confused “What happened” “There’s been an incident. We need to move, now!” “Where’s Lance?” “He’s already left the ballroom. You need to come with me” As they walked across the stage, his team plus Hunk and Pidge had already made their way to Kolivan. Pushing their way through, Curtis and Veronica joined them, followed a few ticks later by Shay. Keith’s heart was doing flips. Where was Lance? How did his mother know he’d left already? “Kolivan, what’s going on?” “I need you and Shiro to come with me right now. The rest of you, I need here. There’s been an incident on palace premises. We have a room filled with dignitaries, our Blade members have already started mobilising” “Where’s Lance?” For someone who was so neutral in his expression, Kolivan’s face said it all. Lance was the incident. Shaking his mother off, he shook his head as he stumbled back. The fact they wouldn’t speak of what happened spoke volumes of how serious the incident was “No. No...” “Keith. Keith, he’s...” “No! I have to find him!” Turning, he took off running, jumping rather dramatically then shoving his way through the crowd. He’d never wanted to be at this stupid Gala. He didn’t do his job for the accolades. He didn’t for the press. His husband had made him see a whole new reason for helping people. He’d chipped away Keith’s hard edges until Keith finally started to become a true leader. Lance was his stability. His husband. His rock. No matter how selfishly cruel he was, his husband... his husband was there... Lance had to be ok. In the hall, it was far too easy to pick up the scent of blood. His feet carrying him towards the scent without having to think of it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever run as fast as he did, bolting down the corridor only to be caught by Krystaal who tackled him around the waist, spinning and pinning against the wall. Kicking out angrily, he snarled. His eyes glowing yellow as his teeth and fingernails sharpened “Let me go! I have to see!” “He’s not there. He’s been moved already” “I have to see him!” “He’s been transferred for the infirmary. Trust me, you don’t want to see this” Dropping low, he threw his weight forward, throwing Krystaal off him and down to the floor “Keith!” For a moment he stared down at his friend, then looked towards where other Blade members were gathered. Krystaal wasn’t going to help him find Lance. Snarling like a wounded animal, he took off again, only for his steps to begin to falter as he saw the blood across the walls and floor. Stumbling, he bumped into Legre, or rather, Legre half caught him as he eyed the scene in the room before him. The door pad been shorted out, the only thing stopping it from closing had been Lance’s misplaced crutch. Manually pushed back, the room was awash with blood... long black marks expensed across the walls like tendrils. This was Lance’s blood. He could smell his husband’s pain. His fear. His anger... something suspiciously charred hung in the air. His knees gave out, a hand coming to his mouth “They’ve already taken him. This isn’t all his blood... but this isn’t all” Keith’s head shot up as he growled at Legre “What do you mean this isn’t all?” “There’s some words on the inside of the door... “We will not accept aid from a murderer”” Catching up to him, Kolivan took his arm. Keith smacking him away, only for Kolivan to take his arm in a firmer grip and pull him to his feet “Keith...” “Get off me!” Roaring in Kolivan’s face, Keith could only describe his feelings as feral. His heart was pounding in his ears. His chest heaving. His first instinct to attack. Giving a nod, the Blade members closest to Keith stepped back under Kolivan guidance “Lance has made it to the infirmary. He is being placed in a pod. He lost a lot of blood. He was unresponsive when they found him. You can’t do anything here. We need to take you to him, and lock down the situation as we believe you are also in danger” “I’m in danger?! What fucking danger, Kolivan!? You used him as bait! You promised he’d be protected! He was targeted! If he dies, if my children die, I will never fucking forgive you. I will destroy this whole fucking empire!” Clutching his chest, he fought for breath. Kolivan was treating him like a fucking child, his words slow, as if he had some kind of impediment, hands raised as if that would calm Keith’s rage “Lance tried to leave a message. You name was written in his blood by his finger. We are downloading and transferring the footage to a back up location. We need to move you...” “No” “Keith” “No! I refuse to be benched when some piece of filth is out there, walking around after trying to kill my fucking husband and our fucking twins!” “I underst...” “You don’t understand shit. How would you feel if it was Krolia!? Do you even love my mother?” He knew he crossed a line. He knew how much Krolia and Kolivan had been through together. Still. He had zero flying fucks. His bloodlust wasn’t about to be satisfied with some half-cocked bullshit. They’d followed their plan and the price was way too high “You husband is in a pod. He was beaten. Nose broken, slashed with his own blade, he has burn marks on his hands and his necklace was ripped with enough force that it’s cut his neck. He suffered trauma to his stomach. He was left stripped half naked and found unresponsive. Should I go on? Or should I allow you to walk away to be by his side, so that when Lance wakes up, he doesn’t wake up to you being held in solitary confinement? Or charged with murder” His stomach... Keith’s anger released as enraged and broken scream... They could lose their twins. He could lose them to save Lance, but Lance would never be the same... They were making a family. A family... something warm and something real... something he’d wanted for so long. Something Lance had taught him... showed him. Shiro had shown him families came in all shapes and forms and the love of a brother. Lance had shown him the love of the husband and perks that came with it. Still unable to catch his breath, he didn’t understand why air refused to fill his lungs. His vision blurred as Shiro approached him “I’ll take him from here” When Shiro wrapped his arm around his shoulder, Keith caved into the touch. Sobs bursting forth as his emotions overwhelmed him. He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t get the sobs out “Keith, you’re having a panic attack. I need you to concentrate on breathing for me. You know how this goes. You’ve done this a hundred times with Lance” Oh. That was what this was. He hadn’t gone this far into an attack in a while. Clawing at his neck, his fingernails tore through his tie and jacket, catching on his wedding ring. Hearing the metal jingle against the hardness of his nails, he clutched the dainty hair clip as his knees buckled again. Ignoring the world around them, Shiro guided him to sit in the middle of the corridor, taking his face in his hands “He’s in a pod. He is in the safest place he can be. Focus on my voice. Slow breaths. In... hold... out... Now tell me five things you can see... keep breathing... in... hold... out...” Keith’s internal struggle with his instincts threatened to take form. His head wouldn’t stop screaming for him to go to Lance. He couldn’t... play this game. He couldn’t process... “Keith. Hey. The sooner you bring your breathing under control, the sooner you can see Lance. He’d scold you if he could see you right now” Quiznakking in... hold... holding wasn’t working... he couldn’t do this...” “You’re going to pass out. You need to breathe. He is alive. He is alive and you’re going to get your breathing under control, and then you’re going to see him. Now tell me what you see” “Y-you...” The word felt wrong in his mouth. His tongue pricked by the sharpness of his teeth “See. That’s great. You can do this. What else can you see?” “White... hair... scar... jacket... arm...” “Good... that’s good. What can you feel?” “Y-your hands...” The words felt clumsy to the point of slurred. He was panting like a dog, unable to breathe through his snot blocked nose “And” “Necklace... ring...” His breathing hitched. Shiro hushing him softly as he waited for Keith to continue “Hard floor...” “Ok... What can you hear?” “You. Your voice... my breathing... my heart beat... Your arm... Kolivan...” “Stay with me. Nice steady breaths for me. Where are we going?” “To see Lance” “And who is Lance?” “My husband” “And what would Lance say if he was right here?” “He’d... be where you are. He’d tell me I... was over reacting” This whole process felt ridiculous. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there “He would. Your eyes are starting to return to normal. I want you to keep breathing for me. Nice deep breaths. Your lungs feel like an elephants on them right now, but you’re working through this with me. I haven’t ever given up on you, and I am not about to start now” Nodding, fresh tears streamed down his face “I’m not sure I can face him... I didn’t protect him” “We don’t know what happened, but I do know Lance would have fought like crazy. He loves you” “He’s pregnant and hurt” “And he’s going to be even more hurt if something happens to you. I know it’s hard, but for his sake, you need to be strong” “How?! One of our allies did this!” “No one is leaving Daibazaal. We’re going to find out who’s behind this and why. Everyone knows Lance won’t stop until we know the truth. Right now, you’re in shock. You need to see him. No matter how he looks on the outside, the pod is healing him. Remember that” Keith nodded, feeling so quiznakking useless that he wanted to throw up. Keeping a firm hold on him, Shiro helped him off the floor. His brother shielding him from prying eyes as he led him from the scene of his breakdown. * Standing in the pod, Lance’s appearance brought him to tears again. His husband broken nose had been straightened before he’d been placed in, while it seemed to Keith that all his blood wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Trapped behind the cold glass of the ancient piece of technology, he couldn’t reach out and hold him close. He couldn’t cover his exposed breasts and stomach. In their rush to get him in the pod, they hadn’t redressed him. It only compounded Keith’s pain as he waited for Lance to wake, now in front of him, his murderous desires had continued to rise, only to be conquered by his need to have his husband exactly where he could see him. He was trapped in the infirmary, Kosmo, and clean clothes, brought by Shiro when Krolia finally arrived so someone would be watching for signs he was going too Galra. His mother annoyingly tight lipped until Shiro has returned. Sitting on the hospital bed, his mother’s face had been firm as she manipulated the holopad she’d brought with her “I’m not supposed to show you this. But I know you need to know what happened. We all do. This stays between us. Even your teams are not being briefed on the contents of this video” Nodding, his throat was too clogged with emotion to talk. Shiro assuring her he wouldn’t speak of it. Taking a breath, Krolia pressed play. The footage was of the hallway Lance had been found in. His husband seemed a little stressed as he limped down the hall. For a man on crutches, Keith wasn’t sure Lance knew proficient he’d become. Stopping suddenly, his husband turned back, then back again, starting to limp along, before suddenly stopping again. Spinning on the spot, Lance suddenly yelled “Hunk!? What the quiznak are you doing?!” Keith and Shiro both looked to Krolia in alarm and confusion. Hunk had been on the stage the whole time. Krolia raised a finger to her lips as the recording continued. “Uh. Hey, buddy. I saw you sneaking out the ballroom, and I... uh, I’ve wanted to talk to you” Clutching his chest, Lance doubled over as he sucked down a breath. Keith had seen him do that far too many times, playing slightly over dramatic as he tried to hide his moment of real panic “Dammit! You scared the quiznak out of me! You’re supposed to be on stage” He had been on stage. Right there, next to Pidge, where he was supposed to be “It didn’t feel right without you... Besides, Keith couldn’t come. Krolia has dragged him up beside her... What are you doing out here?” That was lie. Krolia had a whole damn speech of “welcomes” and “thank yous” to perform before she’d gotten him into the limelight “Looking for a bathroom. They really need more labels around here” Keith felt his anger flare back to life. His husband had wanted to go to the toilet. Something as simple as that shouldn’t have ended in assault “You’ve gone past it” Those four little words were wrong. Hunk wouldn’t have said it like that... It felt too stiff. Lance had seen it too. His step almost hesitant “You ok there, brother?” That wasn’t Hunk. Hunk didn’t say “brother” like that. “That’s not him. That’s not Hunk. Do we know if anyone is missing?” Keith’s eyes were wide as he whispered. Shiro hushing him “Yeah, crutches, you know what I mean” Lance had noticed. Lance had noticed and “Not Hunk” knew. Pausing the video, Krolia took a breath “It gets pretty graphic here. The next few doboshes cover the attack” “I need to see” “Ok... Keith, this doesn’t change how much I love, Lance. He did what he had to” Fuck. If his mother was saying that, then it had to be bad. Blood rushed to his head again as Lance was slammed against the wall. His heartbeat too loud to hear the conversation though he could see Lance’s attacker talking at him. Calmly taking the blow to the face, Lance was quick to stop struggling, but his eyes said it all. He was biding his time and that filled Keith with pride. Silently Lance took the abuse until his attacker ripped his necklace from his neck, cutting his shirt open to expose his pregnant stomach. Snarling and baring his teeth, the switch had been flipped. Lunging at his attacker, sparks shot from the blade in Lance’s hand as “Not Hunk” reeled back. Grabbing his attacker by the arm, Lance twisted so his back was to his attackers chest, stabbing the dagger into the enemies rib area repeatedly, and down his left side. Before arching the blade up as he turned while being pushed away, slashing his attackers face... which didn’t go over well. Raising his foot, Lance was kicked hard in the belly, smacking back into the wall. The damage taken didn’t seem to slow the attack down at all. Stepping back to steady himself, his husband parried the next blow, electricity shooting up “Not Hunk’s” leg, Lance lunging, grabbing his face as the attacker roared in pain, eyes gouging into his eyes as Lance savagely head butted “Not Hunk” in the nose. The sounds coming from his husband bestial. Bringing up his arms to dislodge Lance’s hold, his enemy charged Lance again, kneeing him in the stomach this time, causing Lance to stagger as he dropped the blade. Grabbing Lance by the neck again, the attacker punched him twice more in the face, Lance spitting in the mans face. Fuck. He was beyond furious, but fuck if he wasn’t proud of Lance “That’s my boy” Neither Krolia or Shiro commented. Too absorbed by the scene on the screen. Dragging Lance’s bloodied face along the wall, his attacker came to the room where Lance had been found. When Lance’s hand hit the panel, it shorted the sensor from his uncontrolled Altean magic, the door sliding open as Lance was hurled inside. His attacker having the actual nerve to go back for Lance’s dropped crutches and blade, his husband’s right foot visible, left drawn up. Throwing the items in the room, “Not Hunk” manipulated a piece of tech on his wrist, his appearance shifting to that of... one of some shaggy piece or shit like Klearo’s species. Pausing, he pulled something out the back of his belt, the full yellow tube in the injector was one Keith knew too well. Whoever it was, knew Lance’s history. They could have chosen any random drug, yet went right for that obnoxious yellow painkiller. Lance was screaming at him not to. Kicking as “Not Klearo” entered. Screaming and snarling, Lance was enraged. Keith couldn’t see what was happening in the room, yet knew Lance would be fighting the best he could. There was a series of thuds before Lance fell silent. Shadows fell from the doorway as his attacker went to work on leaving that message... then all of a sudden the room grew blue, the glow spilling out the door, stumbling out the space, a flash of blue bust forth. The person who’d attacked his husband taking the full blast, throwing backwards. Picking themselves up, they dragged themselves off running away from the Gala. The door to the room sliding closed, stopping half way, reopening for a few ticks then coming to a stop where the tip of Lance’s crutch was in the way. Keith had no idea that was even a thing, let alone a possible thing for Lance to be using that much quintessence. None of them spoke as the video moved on to Nerlo and Regetta finding Lance a few doboshes later. Krolia cut the video before he could see his husband being extracted. “It is a clear case of self defence. Lance was clearly attacked first. He put up a good fight with what he had, and with a cast leg. The drugs are burning through his system. He was given 5 times the normal dose. It’s sent his quintessence sky rocketing, he shows signs of having had a seizure possibly the cause of the catatonic state he was found in. An antidote couldn’t be delivered as we didn’t know he’d been injected. The substance has also caused some unusually fast healing. Our staff say that it’s thanks to the drugs that he was able to warn us about the potential risk to you. He most likely didn’t think of the palace security systems. It’s not every day that one survives being stabbed repeatedly, then slashed across the face. We’ve obtained genetic samples. Everyone at the Gala is being questioned. It’s caused a lot of political tension. Previously warring factions within the coalition have taken to bickering” The coalition could jump. He couldn’t care less about who was upset over the events. Not outside their friends. Hunk of all people... Keith could scream, yet instead his words came out as a husky whisper “Lance already thought Hunk hated him. When Lance told Hunk he was pregnant, he and Shay walked out” His mother passed her holopad to Shiro, before placing her hand on his “I have spoken to Hunk about that. He doesn’t hate Lance. He was in shock over how it was possible. He’d also prepared a raw fish dish that night, which isn’t advisable when pregnant. He got caught up recooking everything... You mentioned that he was a “worry baker” When had his mother had time to talk to Hunk. Everyone knew Hunk was a “worry baker”... Had everyone gone without dinner? Or had Hunk reprepared everything only to find them gone? “Why didn’t you tell me this!? Do you know how badly that hurt Lance? He thinks Hunk finds him disgusting” “It seems like Hunk wanted to talk with Lance, yet didn’t know how to approach him with all the stress Lance would be under with the Gala. He was afraid he’d cause a seizure, so intended to wait until the night passed” “Fucking Hunk. He makes it so hard to be mad at him. He has no idea how hard it is for Lance to talk to him and Pidge. Does Veronica know what happened?” “She knows Lance was attacked. She wanted to see him, but I advised her not to at the moment. You two don’t have the best track record, and the last thing you need is to lose control of your emotions again. With the quintessence in his system, he is supposed to be released in two more quintants. He did suffer some damage to his womb, but it is healing. He will need to take it careful for the next few movements and stay close. Both your twins are showing good vitals, though accelerated due to the drugs in his system. They’re doing better than Lance is, but he’ll be fine once he’s released” “Mum, you just said he has to take it easy! You said... you said the twins vitals weren’t right... and... could he lose them?” She couldn’t finish up with saying Lance would be fine. Damage to his womb didn’t sound fine. It sounded fucking scary as quiznak. If Lance was fine, then he wouldn’t be in light duties... or take it careful or whatever she’d said. His husband was fucking trapped in a healing pod. He hated those things. He hated losing time “He’s going to be groggy, disorientate and possibly traumatised over this attack. He will most probably wish to leave, but we can only protect you here” “Protect him! He’s here because we’re here! He was safer at the outpost” “This is going to have a ripple effect through the coalition...” “The coalition has no say what he gets up to in his sector of space!” Shiro cleared his throat “There’s Erathus. We stepped in on Erathus” Fuck... “You went there, and nothing happened” “No. But he isn’t popular there. I think for now, we should limit our conjecture. There’s video and DNA evidence here. More than what you had over the listening devices. For now, Keith, you need to rest. Krolia, you should be resting too, or passing your duties to Kolivan. It’s been a shock to all of us, Lance wouldn’t forgive us you went into labour and missed all the excitement” No. No he wouldn’t. Lance was a baby person. He’d wanted cuddles, be there congratulating Krolia and Kolivan, fussing and wanting to help his mother-in-law. Krolia smiled softly, her free hand moving to her stomach “It has been a long day. A few vargas ago Lance and I were bonding over face masks and hair cuts. I was hoping today wouldn’t result in this. His depression has hit him hard, it’s not uncommon during pregnancy. He seemed to enjoy himself” Keith tilted his head. Lance didn’t like having his hair touched “He had a haircut?” “Full pampering. Massage, manicure, pedicure, face masks, eyebrow shaping, then a trim for both of us. Unlike some people, he actually appreciates my efforts” “M-massage?” Krolia squeezed his hand. Keith was not ok with a naked Lance, or mostly naked Lance being touched by someone else. Despite his mother being there. It. Was. Not. Ok. “He was clothed. I didn’t force him into anything he didn’t want, I made sure he understood that. I was very proud of him. He’s more willing than you or Acxa to let me indulge myself. He allowed his hands to be touched, not even flinching as they did his left hand. He was slightly nervous before getting his hair trimmed. He’s very knowledgeable about Earth beauty routines, it gave us a chance to discuss some of the things he was feeling with his pregnancy as well as skin care routines. He was a nervous wreck waiting for you. He kept playing with his hair, making sure he looked perfect for you. Apparently you made quite the impression on him in your suit” He knew he’d made “quite the impression”, he’d smelt his husband’s “impressions”. He’d seen it on his face. Lance had been gazing upon him like he was some work of art, blushing and shifting slightly to hide his arousal. Staring at Lance, he once again hated the stupid pod he was “He is perfect... He didn’t have to go to all that effort” “He didn’t do it just for you. He did it for himself too. He wanted tonight to be perfect for both of you. No doubt he was hoping that it’d lay some of the rumours to rest. Shiro is right, you need to rest. Your eyes are completely normal now, as your nails. Your teeth still look slightly elongated, but as long as you keep a rein on your emotions, your Galra side should fade within the night. I know you don’t want to be stuck here, but Kolivan and I will figure this out” “Mum, you need to have concrete answers. Lance won’t be able to rest until he knows why someone is after him, again” “I’ll get answers for us all. I swear to you. I’ll contact Miriam and keep her informed” “I promised her I’d look after him” Turning towards him, his mother moved her hand from her stomach to his cheek, rubbing her thumb over the top of the scar on his face “Keith, you’re his husband, not his keeper. The whole attack was a over in less than 10 doboshes. That’s why there was a delay in security. The hall seemed far too close for a possible scuffle to occur. I love you. He’s strong and he’ll be just fine” * Lance kept him waiting a quintant and a half, much faster than the predicted 2 quintants, yet painstakingly long for his heart and instincts. Everyone had dropped by to enquire how Lance was, but no one had the answers that Keith was waiting for, leaving him annoyed they’d visited instead of grateful. Having scanned and logged the DNA evidence, Lance’s attacker had been found to come an unassuming coalition planet that had never seemed to have an issue them. Submitting to neural reading, it was shown that dignitaries had no prior knowledge of the attack, nor did they notice one of their attendants had gone missing. His body later located on the palace grounds where he’d been executed with a blaster shot to the head. He’d died where he’d fallen. His body picked clean of evidence, with the crime taking place where there was a blind spot in security. His mother theorised that someone, someone in the palace, had been behind everything. After all, they first had to know where Keith and Lance’s rooms were, that Hunk and Lance weren’t speaking. Then finally, the lay out the castle security. The palace was in lockdown. The coalition pulled into the spot light of the intergalactic press over the incident, their power and goals questioned. Krolia’s answer to this was a tour of the coalition planets, with the assistance of the Atlas. His team would be going, as would himself and Lance once Lance had recovered. Keith was there when the pod opened. His husband cold, disorientated, and confused as he tottered forward, Keith there to lift him, moving him the few steps to lay him down on the infirmary bed. Medical staff already notified by the pods sensors. Stroking Lance’s hair, blue eyes blinked him, a smile on his husband’s lip, that turned to panic as the medical staff began their work. Fighting weakly, his husband still held his fighting spirit as Keith took his hands in his. His instincts could barely stand having them in the room, yet knowing they were necessary. The black pants Lance had borrowed were cut, Lance falling into a babbling panic at the sound of the laser cutter firing up. Hushing him, Keith buried his face against Lance’s cheek, reassuring him that they’d be heading back to their own room shortly. They may have wanted to monitor him overnight, but they didn’t know Lance like he did. His husband would panic over the scent of blood, over someone else’s scent, over being hurt by an unknown and now deceased assailant. Either passing out from fear, or falling asleep due to the strain from being in the healing pod, Lance went lax beneath him, missing the cast he hated so much being removed. There were so many things to tell his husband, yet until Lance was conscious enough to process things, it’d have to wait. Carrying Lance back to their room, Kosmo was waiting on their bed. Krolia sitting there with a half-frown upon her lips “He was supposed to stay for observation” “He’ll be more secure here. If he woke in the infirmary with no idea what happened... It’s better this way” “I knew you’d say that. I’m the one who gave them clearance. Have they spoken to you over his condition?” “No. I don’t know anything more than that he’s healed. That’s the main thing right now. I was going to bath him” “I want him by your side. I want to know the instant that anything happens. Don’t go after them yourselves” “We don’t know who it is. How am I supposed to go after them?” “Keith. Please. Please be careful” “I will, mum. Can you have some food brought down for us? I don’t know how he’s going to react when he wakes again” “Alright. I do wish you’d consider sharing Kolivan and I’s quarters” “No. Lance feels safe here. He’d refuse to place you in danger” “Make sure you fill him in on all the details of what has transpired” “I will when the time is ready. I just... I need to be alone with him. I need... I need to finally calm down... I haven’t been able to control myself with him in that quiznakking pod. I need to have this with him. I can’t be Keith the Blade member right now. I need to be Keith the husband... because if I’m not, I’m afraid I’m going to lose myself to my anger. It’s like Kre’el all over again. The secrets. The lies. The unknown faction moving...” Held against his chest, Lance stirred slightly. Lance mumbling his name before moaned softly “I can’t keep walking into harm. I didn’t believe him when he warned me about this movements ago. I didn’t believe him and I dismissed him. Do you know what Shiro said? He told me Lance believed he was in danger, first starting at Festival for Allura when he was sent an anonymous letter that burnt away to nothing. His comms for the Paladin panel were spammed with photos of him and Klearo. Now he’s had a second article about him and Shiro printed. Faith in the coalition damaged, right when we were due to be awarded over Kre’el. We know Klearo had Galra working for him. We know there are thousands of Galra descendants still out there. I don’t know if I can trust living here, or trust you living here, but I do know I have fucked up. I have fucked up badly, and I need to talk with him about that. I need to understand. I don’t trust anyone outside the original Blades, and my team. Despite your trust. I don’t even know if I believe that it is Lance who is actually being targeted, or me because everything that happens to him, crushes me a little more. Until I work my own head out, I need time with him, mum” “I understand. Shiro also mentioned this to me. Let me know when he wakes. The tour dates need to be settled. Kolivan stated that public distrust in the coalition is fast sinking as low as when Voltron disappeared for those three years” Keith couldn’t care less for the douches in the coalition, but he did care when it impacted Daibazaal’s image “I’ll talk to him” Lance roused in the bathtub, his husband yawning loudly as he laid in Keith’s arms. Personal hygiene hadn’t been a priority when compared to Lance’s life. Rubbing his eyes, Lance pressed back against him “Why are we in the bath? Did I get drunk?” “Did you what?” “Get drunk? I don’t remember getting into the bath. Why am I so tired?” Keith tensed, his finger tips digging into his husband’s swell. Did Lance not remember? Or was he too tired to remember? Or was his husband trying to avoid the topic? Why were there so many damn “ors” “Babe, what’s the last thing you remember?” “I don’t know... I’m sleepy. That wine? Did we get drunk at the Gala?” Yawning, Lance dropped his head back against Keith’s shoulder. His hands going to Keith’s, lifting them so he could intertwine their fingers “You’re really pretty. You shouldn’t frown though. Your face is going to change, and wind is going to get stuck that way” “You got that one wrong. You went for a little trip into the healing pod, the casts off now” Raising his right leg, Lance’s droopy eyes widened. With no strength it dropped back down splashing bubbly water everywhere “Would you look at that, I have a leg. You were really pretty tonight, all dashing and charming like a prince. I’m so proud of you” Keith wanted to scream, maybe even start yelling at his husband” to stop being so adorable and to tell him what the quiznak had happened”. Lance didn’t remember being attacked, nor did he question being in the pod, nor did care as his husband turned slightly in his hold so he could hide his face against Keith neck. The lack of memory felt like the calm before the storm. He wasn’t trying to be cruel, yet he needed to know what had happened in the room when Lance dropped out of view. Mumbling a series of unintelligible huffing sounds, before drifting back to sleep. He was lucky Keith had the strength to cart his bony arse around... and he was lucky that Lance had enough trust in him to be so unguarded... Just why the quiznak did this have to happen?

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iris-writes-things · 6 years ago

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Two Guys and a Baby: Day 1 part 2

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut, or read up to 2 chapters ahead as a $1 Patreon patron!

“Yes, but do you actually like your job?” “Ezra, this isn’t the time for me to start questioning my life choices. It isn’t even five in the afternoon and I’m dead sober.”

Or, Ezra raises questions Crowley hasn’t dared ask himself in nearly a decade.

Chapter 2 of 20 Ongoing 1722 words Romance/Humor

Crowley didn’t need his instructions to know that Lucy would probably be opposed to ‘leaving Adam unattended in a locked bookshop’, but it was that or no instructions at all.

He all but groaned in frustration as he and Ezra used sticks and branches to fish the pages out of the duck pond from the side. There was no way Crowley would ruin his snakeskin boots for pages of which he knew the contents were unsalvageable. But Ezra insisted they not pollute the park more than it already was. He had a point, but that did nothing to brighten Crowley’s mood.

“That’ss the lasssst one,” he mumbled. His tongue was thick and uncomfortable in his mouth after he nearly bit off the tip, courtesy of a well-placed football to the cranium that put him back to square one with his speech impediment. “Can we pleasse go back to Adam now, before something happensss we both regret?”

“Yes,” Ezra said as he plucked the final page from the stick in Crowley’s hands. “I’ll put these in the recycling.” He gave the grocery bag they had collected the pages in a good pat. “By the way, how’s your head?” He asked as they walked the short distance back to the shop.

“I haven’t had any complaintss.”

“I mean it, dear,” the shorter man said, less than amused.

Crowley shook his head. ‘Dear’? Did Ezra just call him ‘dear’?

“I’m ssure I’ll be fine,” he mumbled as he glanced through the window of the bookshop. Adam, who was still strapped into his stroller, had decided this would have been a good moment to take a quick nap.

Ezra peered through now opened front door of the shop. “Oh, would you look at that. Isn’t he precious?” he said as he held the door open for Crowley.

He really is, the man thought, but Ezra didn’t allow him the opportunity to actually voice his reply.

“Let’s see if I have any books to replace those instructions of yours,” he said as he ran off into the shop, to the self-help and parenting section.

The bookshop was old. All creaky hardwood floorboards and sturdy oak bookshelves, contrasting creamy white walls that were lined with antique, dusty light fixtures. There were at least five flights of stairs behind the till that each led to a different section of books, as well as a modest apartment. Crowley knew self-help and parenting was on the second floor, so he unclasped the sleeping Adam from his seat, carefully cradled the boy against his chest, and went up the stairs.

“Find anything?” he asked.

Ezra turned around, holding a stack of books. Crowley stopped counting at five, but there were at least thrice as many of varying page counts.

“Well, yes. Each of these books has some truths and genuinely good advice in it, but there’s no way one person can read all of this for two weeks of babysitting. Even marking the right pages with memos would take me days.”

“Maybe it’ss time for the great ‘Aziraphale’ to write a book on child care then, isn’t it? Compiling the good bits?”

Ezra pouted. “You know historical novels are more of my thing, Crowley. Besides, if I used that pen name, no one would take the book seriously.”

“I was kidding,” Crowley said. “But you do have experience with this kind of stuff, which is why I meant to call you in the first place. I was hoping you could jusst… help me out. You know?”

“Help you out?” Ezra repeated.

“I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, if you don’t mind seeing a lot more of me these next two weeks, I don’t mind helping you out. But I really can’t leave the shop alone for that long.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure Adam would love being here,” Crowley said as he carefully ran his fingers through the boy’s hair.

Ezra smiled at him. There was something about it that was unlike any other time Ezra had smiled at him before. There was a fondness in his smile. Crowley was in no way equipped to deal with this.

“You know, I never thought I’d see you doting on another human being like that,” Ezra said, his soft gaze now cast at Adam, who made a face in his sleep.

“You should have seen me with my niece. Anathema was at least as cute as Adam when she was that age, and twice as demanding.”

Ezra frowned, deep in thought.

“Now that you mention it, I do remember you coming in with a little girl every once in a while. I figured out she must have been a niece later. I could have sworn she was your daughter at first.”

“Ez, I’m thirty-two. Isn’t that a little young to have a seventeen year old daughter?”

Ezra raised his hands in self-defense. “Not judging.”

“Okay, enough about how good I would look as a dad. I’m just glad you’re willing to…” Crowley sniffed at the air. “What’s that smell?” he asked only just before Adam woke and started wailing in his ear. “Jesus Christ!” he shrieked as he barely managed not to drop the boy.

“Oh, come here. He just needs a clean diaper,” Ezra said as he took the crying baby from the man’s arms and rocked the boy gently as he took him into the apartment.

Crowley, on the other hand, ran down to the diaper bag downstairs and carried the whole thing up. He was in no way equipped to deal with that, either.

It was around four in the afternoon by the time Ezra was feeding Adam. The boy was happily sat in Crowley’s lap, who held an arm around him while he read through the manuscript of Aziraphale’s next novel in his other hand as Ezra fed the child.

‘The Nice And Accurate Vengeance Of Agnes Nutter, Witch’. Agnes Nutter. The name rung a vague bell with Crowley, but for the life of him, he couldn’t put his finger on why.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Ezra cooed as he wiped some mashed vegetable from Adam’s cheek.

“Ez, I know you know you’re a good writer, but would you not patronize me like that?” Crowley mumbled without looking up.

“I wasn’t talking to you, dear. I was talking to Adam,” he said as he offered Adam another spoonful. “But thank you. It’s only the first draft though. It's nowhere near the quality it needs to be.”

"You always were the better storyteller between us. I mean, I don't know how you do it. The dialogue, the visual descriptions… I can see it all in front of me. I can't believe people kept records of all this. Was there really a witch that wiped a complete village off the map?"

Ezra chuckled, he seemed amused by Crowley’s curiosity. "Well, yes and no. Records of the Witchfinder Army showed that a woman accused of witchcraft was to be burned at the stake at 2 PM that day in 1655, while other records showed there was an explosion around that time in approximately that area that was heard as far away as Halifax. The following day, the WA goes back to the village to investigate only to find that rubble was all that remained, which was also recorded. The rest is more of an… 'educated guess'," he air quoted.

Crowley mocked a gasp. "Aziraphale? Using educated guesses to write his absolutely not fictional novel rather than researching even more dusty old records? Are you hearing this scandalous scoop, Mr. Adam?" He leaned down to look the boy in the eye. Adam giggled. When he looked back up at Ezra, the man didn't seem as amused.

"You know I’m not comfortable calling my books non-fiction. Also, might I remind you that all eyewitnesses to this event have been blown to smithereens?"

"I'm sorry. I was just kidding," Crowley said. This time, he really was. Sorry, at least. "I'll make it up to you, I promise,” he thought for a minute before speaking up. “Anything you want done, I'll do for you," he spoke confidently. Oh no. Should have thought a little longer on that.

Ezra seemed to put a lot of thought into his answer; his brows knitted together tightly, a pout pulled at the man’s features as he bit on his lip, but eventually the other man spoke up.

"Well, if you can really envision the story like that, it would only be a small effort to make a mock up for the cover, right? You always were the better artist between us, and I'm sure I can get my agent to get my publisher to pay you for your time."

Crowley was quiet for a second.

"Pardon?" He asked eventually. The greatest extent of art nowadays were quick sketches and storyboards to communicate Lucy's ideas for the shareholders and the marketing teams. To make the cover of a book was a whole other ballpark. Besides, he was offering a favour, and now Ezra was offering to get him paid in return? What even was this conversation at this point?

On the other hand, now that he was out of the office for two weeks to look after Adam, he had the time to figure it out. "Are you sure? I mean, where did you even get the idea?"

Ezra shrugged. “I found a picture of us at your graduation expo while I was doing my spring cleaning. You were good. Are good, I’m sure. Why you ever chose to become an assistant in a marketing department is beyond me.”

“Cold, hard cash, Ez. A man’s gotta live,” Crowley stated simply. “Besides, I like working with Lucy,” he said as he carded another hand through Adam’s soft hair.

“Yes, but do you actually like your work?”

“Ezra, this isn’t the time for me to start questioning my life choices. It isn’t even five in the afternoon and I’m dead sober,” he snapped, and frowned at the realization of what he’d just said. “But I’d love to make you a sketch or two for your book,” Crowley said in an attempt to make it up to his friend.

"I'm glad you do," Ezra smiled. "Would you like to stay for dinner? I was planning on getting takeout."

"Yes. Absolutely."

#fanfic #good omens #ineffable husbands #it's my birthday so here's a treat to go around #human AU

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herlittlelibrary · 6 years ago

Text

February 14th, 2019

Ran out of antidepressant.

Felt. Wrong. Deeply, utterly wrong.

Kept going. Made the choice not to skip class.

Circled the parking lot, hoping to find an empty spot and avoid shelling out $20 to park on campus. Felt a pang of disappointment as I wheeled around the last aisle, and sadly started to turn to drive up the hill. Saw a spot immediately - nice and spacious, at the foot of the incline.

Caught the bus. Arrived to the class where attendance doesn’t count and the professor regularly swears only about 15 minutes late. Sat and talked about the influence of group on one’s behavior. Spoke in groups about group polarization, about group think and horrific echochambers. She called on our group first.

My partner began to speak. “We spoke about how things like this happen online, like with excessive moderation on Reddit. And we talked about 4chan...”

The teacher grimaced through her smile. “That’s - whew. Yeah, that’s a really good example.”

A few classmates began to murmur, a gentle stirring. A confused voice rose from the front row: “What’s 4chan?”

The grimace deepened. “4chan is -” She could not have looked more pained nor awkward if she wanted to. “4chan is -” She rolled her fingertips in her temples, leaning slightly on the table. Let out a sigh. “This is so out of my grade.”

She told us that she liked playing Love Nikki on her phone. Left class wondering, vaguely, if my teacher was a weeb.

Went to the next class to relearn the bones of the body. Asked the teacher afterwards about calcium levels in the blood, bone, chemotherapy, and cancer.

Walked in the sunlight, slightly amazed that I had made it to both classes.

But still felt weird.

---

Found a cozy place near the fireplace of the student building. Had that weekly meeting with that friend and mentor.

“How are you?” she asked, smiling with a shadow of concern.

The empty thing in me felt profound. On a ‘regular’ day, at that point I would have been already giggly - just seeing that friend walk into view was usually enough to feel my spirits pick up, to make me want to crack a barrage of awful jokes and make her laugh. But I felt nothing. I felt heavy.

So I told her. “I feel - I feel bad. I feel like I’m slipping.”

I told her about the good days and bad days - how extreme they seemed to be, yet how they came one after another, in rapid, perplexing succession. About how out of place I felt. How destructive I felt. How out of touch I felt. How it felt like there was some gap in me.

Her blue-grey eyes shone with emotion. “Well. I love you. And God loves you. I love you even on your bad days.”

I love you. It wasn’t the first time she’d said those words. In fact, I regularly said them back - sometimes, before her. But for some reason, in that moment, the words struck something deep, a place I hadn’t felt touched in in a long time. She said it so firmly. So confidently. So genuinely. It assured me that even if she didn’t always know how to help me, she cared. Even on my bad days.

My eyes felt like they were on the verge of being wet, so I cooed an “Awww...” and shrunk slightly in my chair.

She told prayed with me, and told me that I didn’t have to save face - that I didn’t have to put on a smile or any sort of mask. That it was alright if I wasn’t feeling like a ray of sunshine in the moment. It was relieving, not being expected to laugh as hard or often, nor smile as wildly as usual.

Read through Matthew, about how Jesus was tempted by Satan in the wilderness. Talked about how He had encountered those challenges right after experiencing a good thing. How He was being made to question His identity - to be insecure in what He’d been told. How He only recited Truth back. About how being tempted wasn’t the sin.

At some point in time, I began to pull out a bag of candy. A housekeepking staff noticed it. She was an older lady, one who spoke with a mild speech impediment: “Is that for Valentine’s?”

She showed us the candy and letter that students had given her, smiling brightly. It seemed that she had a mild disorder, but this did not cloud her heart of gold. Before I left, I emptied the candies out of my bag and handed them to her. “I don’t really like sweets!”

“I’ll eat this tonight.” She looked up. “Can I have a hug?”

Surprised. “Sure.” Gave her a squeeze.

“I love you,” she said, in a way that can only be described as childlike and innocent. And yet it was honest, and kind.

I didn’t want the words to be a lie if they left my lips. Waited a beat, and said the words back.

Said goodbye. Wondered and hoped that she was shown love regularly, no matter the disability. Hoped that the last student she’d asked a hug from didn’t pass it up.

Felt much less weird.

---

Picked up my car, and circled inside Target in search for the analog of my antidepressant. Didn’t find it, even with the help of the extremely polite assistant who couldn’t find it on any list.

Drove back. Met with friends. Carpooled in three fleets to a pizza place.

Spread out across two tables, we spun theories about Marvel lore and twisted rings out of the plastic wrap holders that held together our candy bags. Demolished six large pizzas. In the company of friends, everyone returned to their childhood: making small balls of the straw paper and tossing them at each other. Blowing paper at each other, which evolved into an exchange of spitless spit-balls. Collectively grimaced at the MMA game that was being played on the TV. Laughed at the friend who, whenever the men were on top of one another and wrestling especially passionately, would swivel her head in the opposite direction, blushing with wide eyes. It was the same friend who told me that she loved me.

Drove back in fleets. Waited on the last car to arrive, but in the meanwhile, exchanged jokes and loud, infectious laughs in the car. A friend climbed out of his car and played Heads Up from the outside. We mimed dances, shouted names, vainly attempted to explain obscure accents. Howled, snickered, and giggled the night away.

Parted ways.

Accidentally had a friend - another mentor - drive me to my usual parking space, not realizing I parked on campus. As I apologized and rested my head in my hands, she laughed and told me that she had done similar things - about how I was human, too.

She waited on me as I unlocked my car. “It’s a mom thing”, she said, smiling sweetly.

Waved goodbye, full of love.

Reflected on how Truth is truth regardless of how I feel at the moment. That I am loved. That I am seen. About how grateful I was to be blessed with those kinds of friends.

Was reminded that even if I felt awful - even if I was dealing with depression - that that was not all of what reality entailed. That what my anxiety told me wasn’t reality. That I wouldn’t necessarily be in that place forever.

Felt wonderful.

#Personal post #Writing #Valentine's

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anonymous-hopeful · 7 years ago

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The Soul Society (Chapter Two: And We Shall Ride Forevermore)

First chapter is here:https://anonymous-hopeful.tumblr.com/post/168367064353/the-soul-society-chapter-one-snow-melts-with

Elder Kettle sat alone in his room, his cane tapping the floor. Once the members of the society had left for the brief recess, he had checked on the young sippy cups laying asleep in their cribs. Both Cuphead and Mugman hadn't awoken during Chill E.'s storytelling, thank goodness, and after a quick kiss and a fixing of the covers, he left the young to their rest. The kettle smiled fondly; he remembered that it wasn't too long ago when the stork had left the babies at his doorstep. In fact, it was a few months after the casino was built. There was no doubt in the elder's mind that during that time when everything felt dark and despaired, the two innocent babies wrapped in swaddling cloths had just brought him all of the joy in the world. As he reminesed on that fateful day, a knocking on the door had interrupted his thoughts.

Sighing, Elder Kettle eased up from his rocking chair and made his way to the door, finding himself surprised when he saw the Blind Spectre on the other side.

"Spectre? Don't ya have somethin' ta do with the Phantom Express?", Elder Kettle asked, displaying a look of concern.

"Yes...well, um...I should but...I just...wanted to look...at the babies.". Spectre explained, a nervousness in his voice.

Elder Kettle thought for a moment. Spectre, as he now is, was an optimistic, charming young lad, especially when he was human, despite his total blindness and speech impediment. Ever since what...happened...however, he was gifted with vision in his afterlife, and from then he had spent his free time seeing everything he had missed in Inkwell Isle. Giving a gentle smile, Elder Kettle had let Spectre in, and allowed him to see the sippy cups.

Grinning wide, Spectre opened up his eyes, or rather, his hands, to see the little ones.

"Oh...they're adorable...I wish they...were awake...so then I could...hold them.", Spectre said, a genuine happiness in his voice.

Elder Kettle nodded, agreeing with the spirit. "You still haven't told me why you had to look at the boys so urgently.".

"Um...well...I can...see...into the future!", he proclaimed, before adding, "I see those two saving us all...no more debts...".

This had piqued Elder Kettle's interest. "Really, now? Well, what exactly didja see?".

The Blind Spectre tapped his chin. "I can't...describe it well...I think they destroyed them...but I'm not sure why...or how they...got them in...the first place.".

Before Elder Kettle could respond, the grandfather clock in the living room had rung, signalling the end of the recess...

Even though they were often called by nicknames (T-Bone, the blind lad, and simply the twins), they did indeed have real names. Yes, not many would know, but the men who worked the Inkwell Express were originally from somewhere else on the globe, a place that didn't have the astounding magics of Inkwell Isle, but where the people spoke eloquently with a rich and fluttering accent that made the poorest of pesants sound regal. The one called T-Bone, the oldest member of the Express crew, had the name Thomas Hardwick. He himself had spent majority of his life in the fancy magic-void place, making a living as an engineer.

The twins, slightly older than the blind lad, but only by a few years, were Billy and Bobby Blayzon. They certainly were an interesting duo; styled their hair the same, always finished each other's sentences, never separated from one another. Thomas had found them trying to sleep in one of the train's freight cars one night in a blustering winter, the only thing keepng them warm being their ragged overalls and a single piece of cloth barely large enough to cover one brother. When confronted, they had told their story; their mother would terrorize them, beating their bodies since they could breathe. Without a father to protect them, the boys suffered until one day, when they had stowed away enough supplies, they had escaped, and hadn't looked back since then. The young teens begged the older man to let them stay, and Thomas, feeling pity, would teach them how the locomotive worked, having them do a job in exchange for a home, and at the slight expense of Thomas, cash.

The blind lad would not come into the picture until many years later. While the lad was a teenager, the twins were in their twenties, and Thomas was almost fifty-eight. A group of people were loading into the train to travel to far destinations; for some, it was work, for othera, it was school or home. One fateful day, the lad had boarded the bus. Even though he hadn't a stick or a dog, Thomas could tell he was blind. His eyes were a haunting shade of blue, and they'd loll about carelessly, never focusing on one thing. Somehow, the lad had managed to make his way on, find an empty seat, and crack open a book without any assistance. Feeling the need to talk to the boy, Thomas made his way over to him and sat down.

"Are ya new here?"

"Hm?", the lad answered, his head turning to the sound of the older man's voice.

"Are ya new? I ain't seen the likes of ya here before."

"What a thick accent...are you from...the countryside?"

Thomas looked at him, confused.

"Uh-"

"Sorry...Random question... I'm new here, yes...It was rather easy ...navigating my way, however.... I told mother... I'd be fine by... myself, after all, I did graduate ...Nottingham's School for the Impaired... with top honors, and... even my assistant says... that I'm more ...than able to get around.... without trouble. I just use... my hands as eyes,... they work just as ...well, if not better... that actual eyes.".

The blind lad chuckled before continuing.

"My name is... Emery Spectre, my apologies... for not mentioning sooner. I've been told ...I have a high level of... brain power. One day, I hope... to be the first blind person... to operate a locomotive...ambitious, huh?".

Thomas grinned, though he knew Emery couldn't see him.

"Well, if yer interested, I happen ta be the conductor of this here train.".

Emery was quiet for a moment, before replying, "I will most... definitely consider.".

The years had passed, and every day Emery could be spotted on the train.

"Do you think boss will-", Bobby began.

"Let Emery work train?" Billy finished, looking at Thomas with bright eyes.

This would eventually work, and Thomas was going to implore that Emery work with them, when one day, the blind lad had came to the train exclaiming that he was invited to work a train on a remote island, and that Thomas, Billy, and Bobby should come as well. Against better judgement, the three agreed, and all were on the next ferry to Inkwell Isle.

Now, Thomas, Bobby and Billy, and Emery were known as some of the few humanfolk on the Isle, and conductors of the magical Inkwell Express, who was a sentient being itself.

"Look's like we're nearin' the second part of the Isle, Head.", Thomas warned.

Nodding in response, the Head of the Train prepared to brake, coming to a slow and squeaky stop.

"Uh oh. That doesn't sound good.", the Head stated, taking a look at its brakes.

"Seems like we'll have ta cut this run short...Emery, could ya ask someone on the Isle ta warn everyone about the Devil?", Thomas inquired.

"Sure, of course...I'll be back soon!", Emery replied, getting off the train to travel around the carnival around them.

Who would be the best to spread the word around this part of the Isle? Grim and Wally could fly, but Grim had a stuttering problem, sort of like he did, and Wally refused to leave his nest for anything. That left Djimmi, Beppi, and the Baroness. Emery stopped to think a bit. Who was the most mature and efficient? Actually, that didn't take much thought. Now, Emery was making his way to the Baroness' castle.

The huge thing growled at him with a mean grimace as he stood in front of it.

"Pardon me, but...I have news for ...the Baroness, and I ...mean no harm.", Emery stated calmly, soon after hearing the clicking of high heels down stairs.

"Aha! I thought that was your sweet voice, lad! Please excuse my castle; he isn't used to the sight of you yet, as you barely come by! Tell me, what news do you have?", the Baroness inquired, quite merrily.

"I regret to ...inform you that ...the Devil's Casino ...is up and running. We on the ...Inkwell Express had ...come to warn everyone ...on this part of the Isle ...and the next, however... the Express isn't ...at it's peak performance. I implore you ...to tell everyone ...on this part ...of the Isle.", Emery answered.

"Oh my! I shall! I shall, and right away, too! Sir Waffington! Gather the other members of the court! We have a mission to fulfill!", Baroness von Bon Bon cried out as she went back into the castle. A moment later, she came back out to say,

"Tell Rumor that I said hello, and come back soon, sweetheart!".

Emery gave a nod and a smile as he went back to the Express.

"I told the Baroness... and she promised to ...spread the word. Will we be ...able to make a ...stop at the... first part of ...the Isle?", Emery asked, a twist of excitement in his voice.

"Ye know the train ain't working right. Why do you-!"

Thomas yelped as the train came to another squeaking halt. Immediately, he looked to the twins, who's hands were grasping the brake.

"He wants to see flower...", Bobby whistled.

"Ya know...Cagney.", Billy finished with a snicker.

Thomas rolled his eyes. Emery was an exemplary man, but there was absolutely no way Thomas could make sense of the whole...flower thing...maybe he was still getting used to the Isle, or all the weird magic, which he was also getting used to, but at the moment, he never thought about falling in love with any odd being, more or less falling in love with a flower, and a male flower at that, yet here he was, and there went Emery, into the forest to find the carnation he was so fond of.

"Cagney? Cagney...? This forest was...always difficult to...navigate...", Emery sighed, before a familiar voice (and an unfamiliar voice) caught his attention.

"Ya wouldn't believe it, Cags! That's the fifth time today one of us has been plucked from the ground! The punk lady didn't even ask or check if he was alright! She just turned around and gave him to her friend, like a gift! I'm tellin' ya, Cags, the vegetation of Inkwell Isle barely get any pod-pickin' respect! More so the flowers! Plucked from the dirt and made into bouquets and decor! One day I oughta-".

"Calm down, Dave, you don't want to loose your petals again! Though I agree with you completely! We must establish our dominance, not just in the forest, but in the rest of the isle! Extreme pollination, total domination!".

"Haha, yes! This is why yer the flower's flower, Cags! Extreme pollination, total domination, that's what you say! If only! One day, at least...humph.".

Nervous, Emery turned toward the voices. He had taken a step, than another, before managing to step on a rather loud...something.

"Wha?! Who is it this time?!", the small, angry flower grumbled.

"Emery? Oh my, how much of that conversation did you hear...?", Cagney chuckled nervously.

"All the same...you and your plan...I'm terribly sorry ...for your friend.", Emery replied.

"Ah, save it. Yer lucky ya only stepped on a branch. Dang humans, ruinin' the welfare...", the flower muttered, stomping away.

"You'll have to pardon my friend, David Daysie, he isn't as open-minded about humans as others.", Cagney apologised.

"Oh, no, it's not...an issue, I just...wanted to talk with...you before we...on the Inkwell Express...head back.", the other proclaimed.

" Oh, you're too kind! Nice to have someone, a human, who understands the pain that flowers are subjected to. If only there were more like you.", Cagney sighed.

Emery had inched forward, his hands in front of him, until he felt Cagney's soft petals. Remembering again the structure of Cagney's face, Emery cupped his lower petals and kissed the flower on his forehead.

"There are more, you'll see...". Emery sighed.

"Heh...humans understanding us? Never...Inkwell Express, huh?"

A while later, Emery had returned to the train.

"Thank goodness. We gotta be headin' back now, the trains getting more wonky.", Thomas warned.

"Uh oh...let's hurry back...", Emery concurred.

"I can handle this last ride back!", the head of the train claimed, as he began to work his way down the track.

The first moments for the ride back were fine, and the head was having no problem. After rounding a turn however, the head, as well as the crew, noticed that something was wrong.

"Hey, shouldn't we be slowing down?", Thomas asked as the train accelerated more.

"Well, yes, but...I'm not slowing down for some reason. Last time we checked, I thought it was the engine that wasn't workin!," Head exclaimed.

"Billy? Bobby?", Thomas inquired.

"Don't look at us!", Bobby cried.

"We didn't break anything!", Billy added.

Thomas nodded. "Well, then, if the brakes aren't working, I guess...hey, where's that lever?".

The crew looked at the control panel, nearly jumping in horror at the reveal of no manual brake lever.

"Yikes! We've been sabotoged!", Thomas cried out in fear.

"What? What are we...to do?", Emery asked, shaken.

"I...um, well, we can't jump, so...", Thomas replied, looking over at the others.

"Huh? No, you aren't...", Billy gasped.

"...saying what we think?", Bobby whimpered.

"We're in a runaway train, going who knows how fast...I don't know what to do!", Thomas panicked.

"Wait! I'll keep us going until we can come to a safe stop. We aren't giving up yet!", the head yelled.

"Head, I applaud ya, but this train is going to crash! Yeah, we'll keep going, but what about those mountains, or the amusement park? We have to accept that we're not making it out of here. There's no way.", Thomas sighed.

"But I could save you all at least! I don't want ya dead! Not on my watch! Couldn't I try?", the head pleaded.

"Head...listen when I say this...crash the train.". Thomas ordered.

"But...but...", Emery stuttered.

"Wait! Couldn't we-", Bobby chimed, before being cut off with Thomas yelling, with tears bursting out of his eyes,

"JUST CRASH THE DAMN TRAIN!!"

and the head silently agreeing...

The thunderous crash was heard throughout the Isle. Nearly, no, everybody knew what had happened. The wreckage was an atrocity, for when the train had collided with the side of the mountain in the third part of the Isle, there was a slight outbreak of fire fueled by the train's tinder. The head was busted and dented, just barely hanging by a shoestring. The others...practically crushed, even charred.

"A train wreck? How awful...King Dice?"

"Why, yes, boss?"

"Let's see if we can't get some free souls.".

King Dice, dressed dapper and stylish as always, walked out to the wreckage. In the side of the mountain, near the casino, lay the busted train. Scowling, the die surveyed the area, seeing if there was anyone on the train to deal with. He had peeked inside one of the passenger cars of the locomotive, cringing when he saw the bloodied and broken bodies inside. Shaking his head, he looked around a bit more, spying the Head of the train crying weakly though busted beams.

"Rough day, eh pal?", King Dice inquired, his best expression of sorrow on his face.

Gradually, the Head looked over at the die, not able to muster a word.

"I don't blame you. It's not everyday something like this happens. I never rode the Express myself, but I've heard good news about it. I mean, twins, a blind lad, and a conductor from a foriegn land running a train? Amazing, in itself. If only there was a way to, I don't know, bring it all back? To continue riding on?.", Dice hinted, a smirk making its way to his face.

The Head didn't speak, more...coughed, but King Dice continued on nonetheless.

"I can't bring them back from the dead, per se, however, I could them, and the train an afterlife! Train for the dead! How about that? Instead of the Inkwell Express, it could be the uh...Phantom Express! Yes, the Phantom Express. How does that sound?', King Dice asked the Head.

"...y.....ye...yes....", the Head uttered.

"Well, it won't take much. All you'd have to do is sign a soul contract. It's a fair deal; I make your friends undead train conductors, you sign the souls over to me and my boss, and hand them over when it's time. We got a deal?", Dice implored with a sleazy look about him.

With the wave of his hand, a contract appeared, a blank line waiting to be signed.

"All ya gotta do is say yes."...

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mushmeyers · 7 years ago

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mush meyers headcanons

im crying i was working on these and then the loml @spotsies gave me this url so now they’re celebratory headcanons!

he’s dyslexic and autistic

he has a speech impediment

he’s diabetic (thank u @timetogoslumming for this hc)

hes a huge animal person- but he ESPECIALLY adores dogs. like, absolutely adores. he wants to own so many dogs. i cant put into words how much mush meyers loves dogs

he’s gay. he’s gone on dates with girls before, b/c girls like him because hes sweet and funny, but they always felt like he was just chatting with a friend or awkward to him, and he hated the expectation that he had to kiss them at the end. turns out, he enjoys going on dates with boys much more

modern era mush? he’s terrible with technology. he’s just really bad at figuring it out and it takes him a while to get the hang of it. he adjusted the volume on his phone in settings for months

he loves sweet food and pastries a lot

his favourite movies are dog movies. especially talking dog movies. hotel for dogs is one of his absolute faves. he also loves lady and the tramp, beethoven, air buddies, beverly hills chihuahua. as long as its happy he loves it (he hasnt watched marley and me and he refuses to)

he also likes old disney films, the ones with the really cute animation styles like aristocats, bambi, robin hood, peter pan... lady and the tramp crosses over into that category

he loves puns. dumb jokes (like jacks “on my back”) always get to him. he laughs about blink listening to blink 182 for weeks

he doesnt fight often at all, but if he does? he’s really good at it. mush is super strong and knows how to defend himself. he’s had to prove it- and he felt really guilty afterwards, because he genuinely doesn’t like hurting people. but if he has to stand up for himself, the people he loves, or something he truly believes in? watch the fuck out

modern au mush would wrestle and play baseball. he’s so strong

he believes in ghosts, and if the newsies in the lodging house tried to use a ouija board (probably race) he would be very very opposed and scared. the next month would be mush telling race that he’s going to die

he asks lots of questions. he wonders about the world a lot and though at a young age he realised no one really cared about his questions, blink always asks him what he’s thinking and he always answers honestly- questions like “do you think ants have feelings?” and “do you think animals have different noises like we have different words?” and “why do i know paint isnt tasty if ive never eaten it?”

he goes on a run every morning. he loves the way the morning feels- crisp air and the morning dew on the grass and the freshness of the day all just appeal to him. even the slight cold that always manages to get a shiver out of him even in his warmest coat is something he loves, and it wakes him up so that by the time he has to go out selling he can smile at the world

when he gets a dog, the dog accompanies him on these morning runs and he LOVES it so much. he loves being able to run alongside a dog and play fetch and stuff.

he also would bring his dog selling, and he’d bring his dog to dog parks in the afternoon. he and his dog would be BEST FRIENDS and inseparable

he and blink co-own the dog and theyre the best dog dads you could ask for

he’s known for being dependable. mush keeps promises and doesnt break deals. people have probably taken advantage of this before, because hes also kind :(

he’s also known for being resilient. it’s not easy to genuinely insult mush- a lot bounces off him and he laughs it off or just carries on his day. though there are certain topics that are sensitive to him, but it’s difficult to see unless you know him well- he prefers to lie in bed and think about these late at night than react on the spot

he scrunches his nose a lot. when someones jokingly teasing him, when he’s upset, when he laughs, and a few of his smiles

mush meyers is an amazing guy

#newsies #mush meyers #hcs

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theimaginesyouneveraskedfor · 8 years ago

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In The Light

This is part of Red’s Love your “Flaws” Writing Challenge by @little-red-83.

Flaws: scars (two on side, one on forehead, one below left eye), short (5’0), body type (thicker build but not overweight), quiet/reserved (around strangers), speech impediment (has faded with therapy but reoccurs in stressful situations), stretch marks, history nerd.

Song-spiration: In The Light by The Lumineers

Character/Fandom: Fili/The Hobbit (Modern AU)

Staring down your own chest, trying to glimpse your midriff without bending to prevent that extra bit of paunch, you sighed with exasperation. Why on earth would there not be mirror inside the fitting room? All you had wanted to do was try something new and see how it looked. You were trying to change your life by taking risks, even if a crop top wasn’t much of one. You ran your fingers along the textured lines along your left side and bit your lip, craning your neck down awkwardly as you tried to examine them.

Garnering all your courage and inhaling deeply, you unlatched the door and swept out into the small area which separated the cubicles from the racks. As you did, you began to call for your friend who had gathered a pile of her own garments, “Theresa, tell me the truth, can you really notice the scars?” You barely finished your question as you found yourself coming face-to-face with someone other than Theresa.

“Um, sorry, I didn’t see you…” You trailed off quietly and looked around the blonde man as your friend emerged from her fitting room, looking much more refined in her outfit than you, “Pardon me.”

You stepped past the stranger before he could reply and scurried over to Theresa, hissing at her in an embarrassed whisper, “Tell me I look alright, please.”

“Y/N, you look fine,” She chuckled and glanced over your shoulder at the person you had almost bowled over, you hoped he was heading in the completely opposite direction, “I told you, you would. You’re much too tough on yourself.”

“You sure my scars aren’t too obvious? And my stomach?” You turned to glance in the mirror on the exterior of a stall door, “I don’t think this skirt is high enough.”

“What are you talking about? You look better than I’ve ever seen, not that you’re not always a beauty,” Theresa assured in her caring way, “The only one who notices your stomach is you…and those scars, barely visible. You’re buying it. And if you don’t, I’m buying it for you.”

“Theresa…” You let your voice dissolve in the air as you huffed at her sparkling eyes, “Fine, I’ll get it. Doesn’t mean I have to wear it.”

“Oh, yes it does,” She turned you and began to usher you back to your cubicle, “Tonight. We’re going out!”

“You know I don’t go out,” You protested and she merely kept smiling, “Theresa, please.”

“This isn’t a dialogue, Y/N,” She waved away your arguments and you cringed as you looked away accidentally catching the curious eyes of the blonde stranger who stood silently by the rack of displaced clothing, “Now go get changed and we’ll get lunch.”

Theresa almost shoved you into the fitting room before she padded away in her stockinged feet and you hurriedly closed the door behind you. You could feel the same man watching you still and you wished he would cut it out. You were none of his business. What was his problem? Did he come to the mall to stare at the weirdos and judge? You could only imagine what he thought of the scars, not that the ones on your face were any better. And the stretch marks? You checked in a panic to make sure none of those pesky lines rose high enough to peak out from the waist of the skirt.

Time, give me my yesterdays, Save it for all you had in your eyes, I have gone away.

You slowly undressed, hoping that the stranger would have disappeared before you emerged, and folded the clothing nicely on the bench as you pull your regular wear back on. You slung your purse across your shoulder and picked up your new outfit, slowly unlatching the door and creeping back out into the store. The blond man remained and you met his gaze once more without intention, a smile coming to his lips before you quickly turned away and whisked down the row of cubicles to wait by Theresa’s.

Another figure appeared to your other side as you listened to Theresa changing, wishing she would go just a little quicker. You looked over to a woman with blonde hair as she emerged from another stall and she brushed past you with a pile of dresses hung over her arm. You listened to the purr of her voice as she greeted the blond stranger and he chuckled at her before leading her away towards the counter. You don’t know why the scene made you suddenly uncomfortable and the bitterness of resent gather in your throat. Of course, he had a girlfriend.

Ugh, why did you care? You didn’t want a boyfriend and you surely didn’t want one who stared at your so endlessly. You shook your head and tried to break free of the idea of fancying the man or any other. People were too complicated…and you were too much of a freak to be of genuine interest to them. Besides, you had Theresa. She loved you in her way and what was better than a true friend?

“So, Y/N,” Theresa emerged from her changing room and brought you from your thoughts, “Lunch.”

“Sure,” You smiled and followed her to the line, waiting just behind the blond man who looked over his shoulder and grinned at you.

Theresa elbowed you as he turned away and you nudged her back sharply. She raised her brow in a silent question and you shook your head with a frown, pointing to the woman beside him. She rolled her eyes and looked straight ahead, her mind no doubt racing with ideas. You gave her another jab to keep her from acting on any of them and shrugged in surrender.

Fate dealt you a tricky hand, Now you’re just left alone in your mind And I have gone away

You looked in the mirror with chagrin, the outfit always setting within you buyer’s remorse. Why did you always listen to Theresa? For such a gentle soul, she was rather manipulative. You squinted under your heavy mascara and the eyeliner was at least flattering as it brought out your irises. Your lips were perfectly glossed though you had never been keen on their shape and the blush highlighted your cheekbones enough that you didn’t look so much like a chipmunk. Theresa sure knew how to use make up to her advantage.

You tried a smile but it still made you cringe and you adjusted your breasts as your top began to sag. If you weren’t already worrying about your midriff, you would have to be mindful of your chest. Your one redeeming quality did look rather nice however and you turned to admire your behind. You had been teased about it in school but you had never minded the extra padding.

“Oh, Y/N, I told you you’d look wonderful,” She preened and looked you up and down, “We’ll be fending of the guys with sticks…or at least, our purses.”

“Sure,” You replied dully and took your borrowed jacket from the vanity chair; you didn’t have anything stylish to keep you warm and so Theresa had kindly offered the leather jacket, “Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

Memory’s old but I just can’t let it go, The idea’s gone but I just can’t let it go.

Ready to go at last after waiting for Theresa to find her keys, you were in a taxi and your anxiety was growing by the second. Stepping out, you were surprised to find that you were allowed into the venue without ado and inside you were bombarded by cacophonous music and flashing lights. You followed Theresa to the coat check and left your jacket before finding your way to the bar, the line a crowd.

“Looks like we’ll be waiting a while,” Theresa crossed her arms, her elbow almost at your eyeline despite your heels.

“Whatever, I don’t even drink,” You check your hair to make sure it had not slipped from its bobby pins and felt a shoulder press against yours, “What the--”

You looked over at the figured crushed up against you in the hoard and found the blond man from earlier. What were the odds? Recognition dawned on his face and he smiled, bending to talk into your ear over the load music.

“Hey, I know you,” He said in a rather striking voice, “From that boutique.”

“Yes, I wemember,” Your speech quavered and you cringed at the return of your old impediment, “I mean, I remember. Uh…I see you didn’t buy anything.” You quipped as he had been an odd sight in woman’s store.

“I was there with my brother’s girlfriend, he was at the food court…as usual,” He grumbled and the tip of his nose brushed up against your ear, “Would it be rude to ask for a name?”

“Y/N,” You answered looking over at Theresa as she grinned back at you; you rolled your eyes and turned back, “And yours?”

“Fili,” He answered, “It’s nice to meet you. Again.”

“Yeah, you, too,” You offered; you weren’t very good at conversation and you weren’t keen on the idea of a hook up, “What a coincidence, eh?”

“That it is,” He agreed and despite your awkwardness, he seemed interested, “I’ll buy you a drink. What are you having?”

“Oh, no thank you. It’s nice of you to offer, but really,” You waved your hand in the air, “I don’t really drink.”

“Then a ginger ale?” He asked, refusing to let you deny him, “And your friend? What does she drink?”

“Please--”

“I insist,” He stepped forward as a spot cleared at the bar, “All I ask in return is a dance.”

“I, uh…” You felt bad for being rude so your turned back to Theresa and asked her what she wanted, “Vodka cran.” You called back to Fili and he nodded before yelling his order over the bar.

“Y/N, you’ve lucked out,” Theresa commented as she stood beside you, “Seeing the same cute guy twice in one day…and now he’s buying you a drink.”

“Because you painted me to look normal,” You scowled and she shook her head.

“No, because you’re beautiful, Y/N,” She corrected you and looked up as Fili neared with drinks in hand, “Thank you so much…”

“Fili,” He supplied and she returned her name before he glanced to you once more, “So, a dance? After our drink, of course.”

“Okay,” You answered nervously and sipped your ginger ale; you had never been much for dancing, especially the club-type of dancing.

“Oh,” Theresa perked up as she looked over your head, “Excuse me a moment, Y/N, I think I see someone I know.”

“Please, Theresa, don’t--” You protested but she brushed past you and left you in awkward silence with Fili.

“Look,” He leaned forward to talk in your ear again, “If you don’t want to dance, that’s fine, but just know, I dance like a gentleman. I don’t do whatever it is these other guys do…I’d prefer talking just as much.”

“Um, well, I don’t have much rhythm,” You admitted meekly, “And it’s kind of hard to talk in here.”

“The patio,” He pointed over his shoulder, “We can sit and have our drinks. No dancing, I promise.”

“Alright,” You accepted and he motioned you ahead of as he followed and you read the signs as you navigated your way to the patio.

You found a table for two in a corner of the patio and Fili sat across from you with another smile; it was infectious as you found yourself doing the same. You bit your lip as you traced your finger through the condensation on your glass and shied away from looking at your new acquaintance. He cleared his throat and you glanced up at him, embarrassed at your loss for words.

“I was going to tell you how nice you looked earlier but you look even better now,” He commented and you couldn’t help a blush, “You don’t have to return the compliment.”

“Uh, you look good, too,” You stuttered out, “I’m sorry. I’m no good at these things, to be honest, I don’t really do…clubs.”

“Me neither, I was just trying something new,” He leaned forward with his elbow on the table, “Earlier, you said something about scars? I didn’t even notice.”

“Yes, I did,” You confessed and rubbed your neck, “I don’t usually broadcast my deformities.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He assured you gently, “I just was wondering, if it’s not too personal a question, what they’re from?”

“Surgery, I know, boring,” You answered greyly, “It’s not personal, just not something I’m keen on.”

“I’ve got scars, too,” He offered and set down his drink, unbuttoning his shirt as if it was completely normal, “When I was in high school, my brother got really into archery…well, it wasn’t exactly safe.”

He pulled back his shirt and showed a thick scar along the top of his right pec and you raised your brows curiously. You could not help but admire the muscle of his chest and looked away shamefully, realizing your perviness.

“Not too bad and I don’t get show it off to often,” He buttoned his shirt as he spoke, “Especially not to pretty girls.”

“Ha,” You scoffed at his words and his brow crinkled.

“You shouldn’t be so tough on yourself,” He chided, “Maybe it’s hard to see it because you look in the mirror every day, but I’d kill to see a face like that every morning.”

You were struck by his words and the genuine tone behind them. Without a response at your disposal you kept quiet and stared at him mutely.

“Sorry, I’ve always been told I’m a bit forward,” He laughed and for the first time, seemed nervous, “I do come on a bit strong.”

“No, I’m flattered,” You assured him and let yourself smile, “Really. I’m just not use to it, is all.”

“Well, could you get use to it?” He asked with a grin, “At least for another night? Tomorrow? I’ll take you on a proper date.”

“Um, sure,” You accepted, never having been prepared to say yes to such an offer, “It sounds great.”

“I hope,” He lifted his drink to his lips and you saw him release the breath he had been holding in, “I can’t wait.”

“Me, either,” You agreed and took up your own drink, resisting the urge to become lost in flowery daydreams.

In the light, right here in the light, Right here in the—hold me and don’t you ever let this die.

#fili #writing challenge #the hobbit #modern au #flaws #little-red-83

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hockeyfun · 8 years ago

Text

Andre Burakovsky #1

Requested by Anon: Hey! I was wondering if you could do a cute Andre Burakovsky one?? where you meet him by chance but don't know who he is but he thinks you're super cute and tries to woo you?? :)

Warnings: alcohol(?)

Word Count: 2283

Author’s Note: Holy crap this one got away from me. I’m so sorry. This imagine really did not want me to write it. I tried to be really creative and not do a typical “at the bar scene” (it kinda turns into that but you’ll see if you read it) I got the inspiration from Andre’s post on instagram. I hope you enjoy it and I’m sorry it is so long. And just in general I wish it was better! Please request again if it isn’t what you wanted! I’d love to right more of Andre because his smile is adorable.

You finished your makeup and went to help her locate the other heel. Why? Because she invited you to go to the Washington Wizard’s game. You loved sports, all sports and even more you loved D.C. sports. You weren’t the type of fan as in you knew every player on every team but you went to games when you could, especially when you got free court side tickets.

With some help from the Verizon Center staff you found your seat, right on the court. Your friend squealed in excitement. “I can’t believe these are our seats,” you raved. Your boss smiled out you, “honey you better believe it.” As you and your boss sat there talking about work, two very attractive guys took the two empty seats next to you. The one closest to you had brown wavy hair and deep brown eyes. While the man sitting next to him had black long hair and a rounder face with blue eyes. They both had athletic builds and simple senses of styles. “Hi,” the one closes to you said with a glowing smile and dimples to match. “Hi,” you responded with your own glowing smile. The guy next to him looked over at the two of you and also gave a soft smile. “Hello, I’m Tom,” he reached out to shake your hand. You grabbed it firmly, and introduced yourself back and your boss. Then turned to the guy next to you. “And you are?” you questioned. “I’m Andre,” he replied. You smiled at Andre, it’s nice to meet you Andre.” You turned yourself back towards your boss where she was giving you that “look”. “What” you jokingly retorted. “Oh nothing, I just enjoy seeing you flirt. Especially after seeing you reject Roger at the office so many times,” she laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh back. “When will he get the memo?” you agreed. “Oh darling boys are like rocks they never understand women even if we were to spell it out for them, especially Roger,” she continued. You two laughed again at how Roger comes to your desk for any excuse possible. “What’s so funny” Andre asked while giving you a goofy smile. You let out a small laugh and tried to compose yourself. “Nothing just some funny things that happened around the office,” you responded. He smiled back, “well you have a pretty laugh,” he noted. You bashfully smiled, “Thank you, Andre,” you responded. He flashed you a smirk that quickly turned into a smile.

The game started with an opening video to get everyone hyped, and you would say it definitely worked on you. You were practically jumping up and down in your seat when the actual players walked out. “You really like basketball?” Andre commented. You gave him a playful glare, “no, I just really enjoy the atmosphere of any sports game, it doesn’t have to just be basketball.” Andre obviously enjoyed your response because his smile was one of amusement. “come on you can’t be sitting in these seats and not enjoy the atmosphere?” you asked. “No, you’re right, it is fun,” he agreed. “Have you ever been to Washington Capitals game here? Those are fun. Especially during the playoffs,” you responded thinking back to the time you and your friends went to a playoff game last year. Andre was analyzing you to see if you were being series. and your face showed no sign of lying. He let out a loud cackle. You laughed not because you knew what he was laughing at but because his laugh was contagious, “what? did I say something wrong?” You nervously questioned. He looked at your innocent face and settled down. His features softened, “no you didn’t at all. I have been to a Caps game before. Actually I’ve been to many,” he lightly responded. Now it was your turn to analyze him. He was pretty young. He had to be some super successful business man to be able to afford all these tickets. You played it safe. “Oh, wow, well that must be fun. I wish I could go to more games but if it’s not through my job then most likely I won’t be there,” you responded truthfully. He gave you a soft smile in return. “I could get you tickets, if you wanted?” He asked. You gave him a quizzical look. “Are you like a ticket broker or something?” you asked trying to figure him out. “More like or something,” he answered. You just rolled your eyes, “fair enough, but I just might take you up on that offer with the tickets,” you added.

The game started and you were cheering and enjoying yourself. You were happy you were with your boss because she was hilarious and the two of you worked really well together. Andre and Tom joined most of your conversations and it felt like you guys all had known each other for a while and came together. The more Andre talked the more you detected a slight accent. Maybe it was a speech impediment but you couldn’t be for sure. You made a mental note to ask him where he is from. During half time, Tom and Andre both got up, “wanna go to the lounge and get something to drink or eat?” he asked. “Ummm, I don’t think our tickets include that,” you confessed. He laughed, “don’t worry you’re with me it will be fine,” he held his hand out to you. You looked over at your boss for help. She gave you that little nod that said ‘go ahead, he seems safe’. “Okay,” you agreed. and grabbed Andre’s hand to help get yourself up. He didn’t let go and you were okay with that because the closer you got to the entrance of the Lounge the more nervous you got about not getting in. You latched to Andre when you finally got up to the security. He looked at Tom and Andre, and you. You thought for sure he was going to ask all of you to show your tickets just like he did for everyone else. “Good evening Mr. Burakovsky and Mr. Wilson. Ma’am,” he acknowledged you all. Tom and Andre both smiled back, “Mr. Davis, how are you today?” Tom asked. “I’m good, thank you. Y’all ready for the game in two days?” He asked. They both laughed, “of course we are!” Andre answered. You tried to rack your brain for what games are being played tomorrow but you couldn’t remember any. “Good, well, go on ahead and good luck tomorrow,” Mr. Davis concluded. Tom and Andre both said their goodbyes and thank you. Once you were out of ear shot and sight you released Andre from your nervous hold. “Mr. Burakovsky, who are you? and should I be worried? “You jokingly questioned. He just shook his head at you. “No, you do not” he answered, “I’m going to go get a drink you want anything?” You nodded your head and gave him your order. The conversation between the guard and Tom and Andre ran through your mind. You watched as Andre conversed with people while he was waited for the food and drinks. He was personable and you could tell by the way he talked to each person. He came back to the table you found and took the seat next to you. He set down the nachos and two drinks. “I want to take you out, tonight actually,” he proclaimed. You were taken aback by the seriousness and honesty in his statement. You smiled at him, “Andre, I don’t even know you,” You responded trying to add logic to this. He smirked at you realizing you didn’t really reject him. “Okay, ask any question. I’ll answer it.” “Fine,” you responded, “where are you from?” you started off easy. “Sweden,” he answered. You don’t know where you thought he was from but you were not expecting Sweden. He laughed at your shocked expression. “You obviously didn’t expect me to be from Sweden, did you?” He asked. You shook your head, “No, I didn’t. What are you here for?” He enjoyed your genuine curiosity about his life. It was refreshing and amusing. Most people he met knew the answers to your questions but because you had no idea who he was he thought it was cute. “I’m here for work,” he gave you a cryptic answer which caused you to roll your eyes. “And… what is work for you?” You asked. Right before he got to answer Tom interrupted you, “the second half is about to start.”

The game ended up being a nail bitter. The Wizards won on a buzzer beater and the whole arena was electric. You were happy and excited so you agreed to go out with Andre and Tom tonight, but not without conditions. He had to text you where you were going and you would meet him there, and you were going to bring a friend with you, just in case.

When you got home to your apartment, you quickly threw on some black jeans and a silvery tank top with black heels. Your friend walked into the apartment when you were just putting the finishing touches on your makeup. “Aye, girl you look good!” She commented. You rolled your eyes at her but smiled, “will you get over here and help me find the other heel,” You asked. She smiled and went into your closest to look for the matching pair. “it’s a mess in here,” She commented. “I know,” you yelled back. You finished your makeup and went to help her locate the other heel. She was the one to finally find it. “Bless your soul,” you raved. You slipped on both heels and you two were on your way.

You arrived at one of the most exclusive clubs in DC. The line was wrapped around the block. “There is no way we are getting in,” your friend commented. You shot her a glare, “you’re sending bad vibes and I really do not need that right now,” you retorted. She made the motion like she was zipping her lips, indicating she was going to shut up. You once again rolled your eyes at your goofy friend. You shot Andre a text saying there was no way that you could get in with this crowd. No longer than 30 seconds you saw Andre walk out from the club. He saw you and smiled brightly. He pulled you into a hug. “you look wonderful,” he commented. You smiled and gave a soft thank you. You introduced your friend. “So how are we getting in,” your friend speculated. Andre gave her a smirk, “easy through the front door,” he answered sarcastically, but he wasn’t lying. You all went through the front door. The bouncer didn’t even say anything he just nodded his head and let you all through. “See I have my ways,” He teased. Your friends face was exactly how you felt, confused and amazed. Andre must have held a lot more power than you originally thought. The club was packed and luckily (which you were starting not to be surprised by it) you were in the VIP section. You friend quickly took advantage of the free drinks the VIP section had to offer and left you alone with Andre to go to the bar. You could tell Andre was a little tipsy because he was very touchy. He grabbed you by the waist and nuzzled into the side of your throat. “Are you impressed?” he gently asked. “Impressed and concerned,” you commented. You felt him stop, and turn you towards him. “Concerned?” He questioned. “I feel like you’re hiding something from me, and that is concerning,” you whispered. He gave you his signature soft smile. He was going to respond when you saw the Alex Ovechkin. “Is that Ovechkin?” You asked. Andre gave a quick turn, “yeah, how do you know that?” you gave him a glare, “I might not be the biggest hockey fan but Ovechkin is the pride and joy of D.C.’s hockey world. You can’t not know who he is,” you told him. “Would you like to meet him?” He asked you. Your mouth fell open in amazement, “You know Alex Ovechkin?” you said with shock. He let out a loud laugh, “yeah, I know him,” he responded. He grabbed your hand and pulled you over to where Ovi was. While you two waited for Alex to finish the conversation he was having, you looked around. “is that Backstrom talking to T.J. Oshie?” you wondered out loud. You looked over at Andre. “So you recognize the top line but you don’t know any of the other players, typical,” he joked. Then everything clicked. “Oh my gosh, you play for the friggin Capitals,” you exclaimed. You jokingly slapped his shoulder, “you should have told me!” He grabbed your hand to stop from hitting him. He was smiling profusely, “I tried to tell you multiple times but something always got in the way. Also most people just know who I am. It was refreshing not having you know.You look adorable surprised,” he answered. You rolled your eyes at him, “I can’t believe this,” you said more to yourself than to him. Andre’s face filled with concern. He gently grabbed your face in one of his hands in forced you to look him in the eyes. He tried to read your emotions. “Are you mad?” He asked. You flashed him a smile, “No, just surprised.” He returned the smile, “see you look adorable surprised.” He dropped his hand from your face and moved it down to hold your hand as he introduced you to his teammates.

#nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl oneshots #nhl #hockey fanfiction #hockey one shots #hockey drabbles #hockey #andre burakovsky #washington capitals #hockeyfun

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