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morgana-ren · 4 years ago

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Come Down to the Black Sea III

Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Siren!Shigaraki, graphic depictions of violence, heavy sexual innuendo, implied noncon, foul language, sexual tension you can cut with a knife, and just general sexual grossness. Joking daddy kink also, if you count that.

PART I, PART II

Here you go! The third installment. Your seafaring friend finds your hot button and decides to plant some lovely ideas in your brain. Listening to them probably is not the smartest idea in regards to keeping your heart beating, but it certainly gets your thighs clenching.

Taglist: @lemonzoey, @babayaga67

You know, it's really rough to explain to your superiors at work why you're so distracted when it happens to be because a mythical being is giving you the cold shoulder.

You’re not entirely certain why it bothers you so much that your last encounter with him ended rather sour. He had made it perfectly plain from the get-go that his intent with you was far from pure. Murderous, in fact. He had almost drowned you on your first meeting and insulted you incessantly during your second. Not exactly a friendly track record.

Regardless, he’s made a permanent home crawling beneath your human skin, like some itch you can’t scratch away. You can try to justify it however you’d like, but you can’t ignore the truth. In a word full of mundane existence, you’ve found an oddity and as much as you’d like to pretend you aren’t, you’re drawn to it. It’s part of why you returned to the beach despite the clear and present danger. You’d found a living, breathing mermaid. Even more impressive, you’d managed to piss him off.

Mermaid? Is that accurate? He’s so sensitive to being classified wrongly, but still never told you what he was. Considering the circumstances, maybe you should be a little bit more concerned about other things rather than offending him, but it still bothers you.

Your ignorance isn’t due to lack of trying. You’ve done extensive research in the spare moments you have during the day, but nothing quite matches his description no matter how deeply you delve into the weirder parts of the internet, even going so far as to browse around on conspiracy sites on the darknet. Mermaid? Merman? Siren? Fish-guy? Some distantly related offspring to that Ripley’s Believe it or Not monkey fish? Relentless searching proved fruitless. Plenty of old sun-crazed fishermen claim to have seen merfolk in the waters or sirens on the rocks, but more often than not, it was a walrus or stage 4 sea madness. No one had a legitimate account of meeting with a real, intelligent creature of the deep. Nothing that came remotely close to him, anyway.

Despite being unable to focus at your job, getting home only doubles the anxiety. Restlessly sitting and twitching on the sofa, repeatedly trying and failing to read or watch some vapid TV show. You’re unable to keep your mind from returning to the ocean, to him no matter how hard you try.

Over the course of time, you become acutely aware that staying home clearly isn't an option, but you're not really sure what to say to him if you see him again. Why do you even care? Aren't you supposed to be ignoring him? You can excuse your obsessive thoughts about him since most people would have the same reaction to seeing something supernatural not once, but twice in front of their very eyes, but a lot of people wouldn’t continuously return to see it especially if it was malevolent.

You love that preemptively planning what to say to a sentient supernatural sea dweller is a part of your day. That's awesome. Can't look that one up on google.

You’ll compromise with your compulsiveness instead. Go a little early and watch the sun set down over the horizon instead of watching the moon rise. Most parents won't allow their children near your rock because it’s slippery and dangerous, and frankly, you don't think he'll show up when others can see him. He’s deadly, but a mob of terrified parents and curious beach goers has few rivals.

Maybe you can get your fill before he appears. It's better to keep away from him anyway. He wants you dead.

He wants you dead, you remind yourself.

And so you do. Tread the sandy trail down to your favorite little hideyhole and plop down on the hard surface. You kick your feet absentmindedly on the rock beneath you, watching the small particles of sand splay and regather with every motion of your foot. The crash of the waves, still tumultuous and ornery, slap the side of your makeshift perch and splash you with speckles of water every few moments. You don't mind. You needed to shower anyway.

You can't help but feel a bit more lonely than normal, even surrounded by so many more people than you usually are. Flustered moms urge their children in from the shore to wipe them down with towels and flighty young twentysomethings hoot and holler, laughing loudly as they pile into their cars to find their next big spot for the night. The moon rises and the beach empties, leaving you alone again. The ocean settles, and even though it feels better, you feel alone.

You close your eyes, resting your head sideways on your knees with your arms buckled around your legs. You're close to the edge, precariously so. You just want to be close to the water. You should move back.

In. out. in. out. in. out. in. out.

The waves seem to move in line with the beating of your own heart, a tranquil feeling that dulls your restless thoughts and engulfs you in quiet solace. The hum of the ocean resonating deep within you with each breath you take of the briny air.

You're aware enough to recognize that the sound of the sea is luring you into a false sense of comfort. The darkness seeping over the horizon doesn't make it easier, and soon your slowly wandering mind is on the brink of unconsciousness. You're dangerously close to falling asleep, and given the circumstances, that probably isn't the best idea, especially since you're precariously close to the water.

You can't help it, it's been one hell of a week. You haven’t slept. Haven’t relaxed. Haven’t felt at home in so long...

Listen, there's no guide online to look at that can help you through what to do when a malevolent fish-man hybrid has decided he wants to drown you. You can imagine it would say something along the lines of 'Stop going near the water then, dumbass' but that's like asking a religious person to stay away from church. It's the one place where you feel any semblance of peace, and you'll be damned if you're going to let the moonlight water marauder take that from you.

Still, it makes things in your life exponentially more difficult when you can't explain to anyone what's on your mind.

'Yeah, I met a mer...thing, and he's decided that he hates me and he wants to drown me, and that makes me sad. The one supernatural creature I get to meet and he doesn't like me. Bummer.'

They'd probably have you committed. That’s a bit much even for your eccentric proclivities.

Your body occasionally jerks you awake, probably its way of saying 'You cannot sleep when there are enemies nearby', but it feels like it's been weeks since you've had a decent night's sleep. The endless procession of days marked by existential crisis with the tacked on bonus of being aware of the existence of a nefarious fairy tale creature makes everything feel awfully surreal. It feels as if you've been running on pure adrenaline and are about to crash. Hard.

If you were smart, you'd go home and try to bank on the feeling of sleepiness currently plaguing you, but you just can't bring yourself to move. Even barring the flaxen haired fish dude just chomping at the bit to drag you under, napping this close to the sea is a bad idea in general. Tides change rapidly and all it would take is a few minutes of you being unaware for the waves to snag you and haul you off to a watery grave. They'd probably never find you, just like the others who disappear here at night.

But that's probably his doing, isn't it?

What does he do with the bodies exactly?

You really wish he wasn't trying to kill you, cause you have an endless list of questions you'd like to ask. What does he eat? Where does he live? Does he sleep at all?

Musing on all the things you'd like to know about him and his life leads you into fantasizing about being a talk show host interviewing him, and one thing leads to another and before you know it, you're conked out cold. You've managed to find an extremely awkward position to slump into, but even the horrid crick in your neck isn't enough to shake you from the dreamless slumber. Your body doesn't even have the energy needed to produce a dream, so instead, you just float through an endless void.

It could have been minutes, or even hours, really. You're not sure. The only thing strong enough to jar you awake is a sudden and intense feeling of dread that blooms in your stomach and gives you a form and sentience again. Your eyes snap open instinctively, and you're greeted with a pair of spiteful red eyes far too close to you for comfort.

"Jumping jesus-!"

Surprised is a nice word for what you feel, an ugly screech emanating from your throat as you kick out your feet, knocking yourself over and almost falling in the water in the process. You hit your head nice and hard on a particularly jagged portion of the rocks, and by the time your vision undoubles, the danger is just barely settling in.

Except danger is too busy cackling to be a threat.

You try to grapple with the panic in your chest and get a grasp on reality again after your literal rude awakening, but it's a bit rough when the sadistic jackass who perpetuated it in the first place won't stop laughing. Apparently he's too amused to take the opportunity to seize you, so you take the moment to scoot much further back and out of his reach, resisting the urge to plant your foot right on his stupid face.

Eventually he quiets down, but the grin never leaves his face. Much like everything about him, it's hostile somehow, mocking and disingenuous.

"Humans really are so stupid."

"Joke is on you, tunabreath. You wasted the perfect opportunity to actually grab me."

He shakes his head, tutting you. "I couldn’t resist. We like to play with our food too, sometimes. Scared ones taste better."

Is he implying he eats people? Okay, you know what? You don't wanna know. You doubt he'd be honest about it anyway, and would probably say whatever unnerves you the most. He seems a prick like that.

"I thought the entire point was to drown me and get it over with. You’re borderline obsessed with it."

He scoffs, little head fins twitching as he waves you off. "If I’m going to waste my time, don't make it so easy. It's less fun."

Okay cool, this is all a game to him; your life is a game to him. Nice. Fun. Great.

Something on your face must have given away your ire, because he simpers at you and another raspy laugh bubbles in his chest.

"It's not my fault you're stupid. You're the idiot sleeping next to the ocean when you know what's waiting for you when you get too close. It’s like you want me to devour you."

"I thought after your little tantrum last night, you were gone for good. You really can throw a fantastic hissy fit."

That wipes the smile from his face.

“Little brat.” He taps a claw on the rock, narrowing his eyes at you. “Tough talk from someone afraid of getting a little wet.” He drags out the final word with a mocking tone, clicking his tongue against his fangs with the final syllable.

“For the last time, I’m not afraid of getting wet-” It takes it a second to sink in but wow this all sounds so wrong. Your face darkens and a familiar tingle worms itself in your gut. Are you really that lonely? “And don’t say it like that!”

His brows furrow and he studies you with a slightly quizzical expression. “Like what?”

How do you explain to a dude who presumably has no cock and no human sexual experience about the sexual insinuations of human expressions? Wow. This is not a talk you thought you’d be having. The entire situation is weird, but this really sets the bar.

“I know you’re probably not familiar with it, but that sounds... weird. It just sounds weird, okay?”

“I don’t understand.” His lips curl downward in annoyance, arching a pale brow in your direction.

“Look, when a human and another human... do stuff, things happen to their bodies and-“ a twisted sense of shame curdles your stomach and you go to scratch the back of your head, avoiding his eyes. Your words trail off somewhere mid sentence. If you were looking, you could practically see the gears turning in his head, but a few seconds later, his face pops in realization.

“I’m fully aware of your human mating habits.”

“Don’t say it like that either! Jesus, you’re so awkward.”

A slow smile spreads over his face and he leans closer to you, tail swishing in a steady rhythm beneath the water. “Why? You’re over the ‘age of consent’, as it’s put, right? A sexually mature human female? Does it make you uncomfortable when I say things like that? Or does it make you something else?”

He trails his claws in a walking motion towards your out of reach leg, and embarrassment isn’t a strong enough word for the emotion that colors your face as you recoil from his wandering fingers. “Knock it off!”

“Has it been a while since someone touched you, little human?”

“None of your business! You’re such a creep! And what do you know about it anyway? Don’t you fuckin’ lay eggs or something?”

He ignores your pointed jab, licking at his chapped lips as he runs his piercing eyes over you a bit too invasively for your liking. “You wanna know, huh? I can show you.” He reaches towards you again and you wiggle back a few more inches, caught between his words and the friction igniting feelings you’re desperately trying to ignore between your thighs.

“I’m getting mixed signals here. Are you trying to drown me or fuck me?”

“Who says I can’t do both?” He tilts his head, gaze lingering on your lips before drifting down to your chest without shame. His attention still feels utterly predatory, but for a different form of predator entirely. “Your death doesn’t have to be entirely painful, you know.”

“S-stop it.”

He’s giving you whiplash with his intense mood swings, but you can’t deny the less than appropriate places his words drag your mind to. Heat ignites inside you, warmth spreading through your navel as your cheeks burn deeper than they did before. You will it away, trying to shake loose the thoughts from your mind. No fucking way are you even considering this.

“Look, even if our bodies were compatible, which they aren’t, it’s not like you wanting to kill me is a turn on.”

He gives you another lilting grin, flicking his tongue and hissing in a foreign laugh. “Are you sure? I know that some of your kind are into that sort of thing. Hard. Rough. Dangerous. And judging by your face-“

Another bout of blood colors your cheeks so intensely that you can literally feel it. Oh God, make it stop.

“-You might be.”

“Shut it, shark bait!”

“And who’s to say we’re not compatible? I know plenty. Something about the beach is an aphrodisiac to you humans. Not to mention~” Another grin, but this one gives off the undeniable air of ‘I know something you don’t know.’ “You have no idea what I can do.”

You can’t help but look back at him as he says it and you can tell he means every word. The unnatural scarlet glow of his eyes seems far too welcoming, calling to you like some sort of beacon in the darkness. The soft gleam of his silvery hair in the moonlight far too inviting. You want to touch it, wonder what it would feel like entwined between your fingers, what it smells like and how those claws would feel like scratching against the sensitive skin of your ass as he holds you steady against his hips.

You bet those fangs aren’t just for show, and judging by his attitude, he’s probably not afraid to use them. You bet they’d feel all sorts of nice scraping and digging into your flesh, biting you and licking that thick tongue up and over your neck, maybe even a bit lower if you asked him nicely. He’s so lithe, so strong, he’d have no problem fucking you against the rock even with the water resistance. His slick skin rubbing against yours, webbed hands squeezing your waist, kneading your tits, pressing the rounds of your neck until you gave yourself over to him completely and the taste of him is the last thing you ever knew.

Okay, you admit it. You are really curious to see just what it is he can do. You’d probably be the first human in history to find out, the first girl to be fucked to literal death by a siren. Would it really be such a terrible way to die? Being dragged under metaphorically and physically and spending your last moments in pleasure wholly unknown to the moral realm?

He smiles softly, watching you toss it around in your mind as he cradles his head in his palm. He’s beautiful, and you loathe it. You hate that you’re even considering this, even toying with the thought as if it’s really an option. What the hell are you doing? This is complete madness!

“You aren’t serious, are you?”

He gestures you forward seductively, nibbling gently on his scarred bottom lip, keeping your eyes squarely trained on his mouth. “Come a little closer and find out. I promise I bite. Extra hard if you beg.”

Another clench between your legs. Shake it loose, shake it loose! “Look, even if I believed for a split second you wanted to seduce me, you really think I’m going to literally die for the chance?”

“What else are you going to die for?”

Oddly deep. Not a thought you wanted to ponder right now. Expertly deflect it with sarcasm and ignore the fact that he has a very good point.

“Of old age, in my bed, surrounded by loved ones and piles of money I didn’t get the chance to spend yet.”

He scoffs, blowing air through his nose. “Sure.”

“Just what is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, shucking aside your irritation. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

“Prick.”

He giggles, finding your crass human mouth oddly endearing. “Well, the offer stands. I told you I’m not going anywhere until you're under the water with me.” He pauses, considering you for a moment before grinning darkly. “I might just do it anyway, but it’s better if you’re willing. Not that I’ve ever been averse to a little struggle.”

“What?”

“It’s hard to say no when you can’t speak. I could easily bypass this little game of playing hard to get, but I want to see you squirm.” He eyes between your legs and you pray to the Gods that he thinks the dampness residing there is because of the watery environment. “I want to see you beg before the light goes out in those pretty eyes.”

“You’re a fucking perv!”

“I told you I’m going to watch you drown, you really put it past me to not take other forms of satisfaction from you while I’m at it?”

He presents a good point. You resent the fact that you don’t entirely feel repulsed by the thought. You should. You should be mortified and terrified and other words that end in ‘fied’. You should run and never come back. You know you should.

You lean forward.

“I’d like to see you try, fish boy.”

A strangely genuine smile spreads across his lips and his face seems to light up at your words. It's still menacing, but oddly cute; like a child getting ready and excited to play their favorite game.

"You really think you can win this, huh?" He muses, looking up at you through those pale lashes. "You sure are something, little girl."

"What do I have to lose? If you win, you kill me, and whatever else, but I won't care, because I'll be dead. If I win, I get to see that arrogant smarminess wiped off your face when you don't get what you want. You'll have wasted all this time for nothing, and I guess that's a small consolation prize alongside my life."

“Time means nothing to me, but if it makes you feel better about the situation.”

From the way he says it, you don't deny it. It dawns on you that you really know nothing about his people. Do they age like you? Do they age at all?

“How old are you?”

"Older than you by far, I promise. What a rude question. How old are you?"

“Old enough. But that doesn’t answer my question. Don’t deflect.”

"No manners, you humans." He ponders it for a minute. "You count the passing of time in revolutions around the sun, right? I'd bet I had been an adult for a very long time while you were still learning to walk on wobbly little legs."

It's your turn to laugh now, and he doesn't seem amused. "You're an old man! Ew! You're an interspecies cradle robber!"

"I'm not old! We live exponentially longer than you! I'll still be in my prime when you're an elder!" His pallid face is dusted slightly red in frustration, and it's almost funnier than his reaction.

"Whatever you say, grandpa! Do you have an undersea walker? Drink sea prune juice? Is that why your hair is silver? Cause you're old?"

Self consciously, he strokes the front of his long bangs between his fingers. "No! You're an immature little brat!"

"Back in my day~" You barely dodge a swipe from one of his claws as he jumps as far forward as he can and swings at you. "Careful gramps, you don't wanna hurt yourself. You’ll break a hip or whatever it is you have."

He sneers at you and you bask in the minor victory.

You sit in silence; him with a scowl tightly pulled across his thin lips, and you with a smug little grin. So it’s not impossible to get under his scales.

He’s a world class pouter, you’ll give him that. He doesn’t strike you as vain, but this is probably uncharted territory for him; actually talking to a human and subsequently being made fun of for his age. He’s probably not used to being mocked in any sense of the word, seeing as he’s a ‘non existent’ mythical creature. Maybe his kind are prideful, if a little childish. He claims to have existed for ages, but he still has the mannerisms you’d attribute to a male around your age. Maybe a tad immature and explosive himself. You guess some things don’t change with the species. Aggression, domination, and sex. And murder, in his case.

Some things are universal, it seems.

He’s making a show of ignoring you now, clicking his claws together in a subconscious attempt to threaten you. They are awfully sharp. You swear looking at them makes the gashes on your arm start to ache all over again. Occasionally the fins on the side of his head twitch in an almost catlike manner, turning toward whatever source of sound can be heard. It’s so strange to you, you can’t help but stare. He looks ethereal, even as impudent as he’s acting. With the backdrop of the ocean and the moon behind him, he looks like a painting that belongs in a gallery. You can’t stop yourself from leering at him.

You’re trying to ignore the fact that he definitely takes notice.

He's angry at you, displeasure still slightly evident in his face, but a small smile crooks his lips. You've clearly offended him but your leering goes a little way towards soothing the hairs you've rubbed the wrong way. For whatever reason, knowing you find him attractive puffs his feathers- er, scales- with pride. Body language relaxes between the two of you and a few minutes of quiet follows.

Yet, it's difficult to keep a pleasant silence when the company you keep is far from familiar. This isn't two friends relaxing on a beach; at least unless most friends are malevolent ocean dwelling creatures with an end goal of filling the other's lung with sea water.

The lack of noise makes you antsy, almost like you're anticipating something but you're unsure of what. It feels false somehow, like you're trying to turn this isn't something it isn't; comfortable. No matter how his casual demeanor tries to lull you into a false sense of security, you have to remain vigilant. One little slip and he'll drag you into a watery grave- among other things if he was serious.

“So… What do you eat?”

He slow blinks at you a few times before grinning, light glinting off his all-too-sharp fangs. “You mean besides you?”

There’s multiple implications to that, neither one of which you want to ponder for various reasons. Your panties are already uncomfortably damp.

“Yes. Besides us.”

Shrugging, he flicks at a small pebble on the rocks edge and plunks it into the water. "Same thing you would if you were one of us. There's plenty of fish down here, only difference is I can eat them raw."

Your nose crumples and you stick your tongue out slightly, imagining him taking a bite out of a still-twitching fish. "Ew."

He rolls his eyes, brushing your obvious disgust aside. "If I recall, don't you humans have multiple dishes you eat raw?"

"Well, I mean, yeah, but it's different. We actually prepare it."

"Sounds like a whole lot of fuss over nothing. Your weak stomach just can't handle it and mine can, and you seem to find that to be some sort of bragging point. Also, don't you humans have a tendency to put things in your mouth that don't belong there?"

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up about that?”

"I don't know, I'd say the occasional raw fish is a lot less dirty than a human male c-"

“Oh my god! I am so sorry I fucking asked!”

He cackles loudly and you realize that he's officially found your hot button. Even worse is he knows it. "I mean that's not to say we don't have our own filthy habits, but you guys are inspiring-"

"Dude! Make like a tunafish and can it! I don't want to hear any of this!"

"Oh? Is that so? Because around 10 minutes ago, you were half ready to rip your clothes off and jump in here and let me try you even if it meant your death."

"Momentary lapse in judgement. Don't get too excited, grandpa."

He frowns again but seems less offended now that the initial moment had passed. "If you insist upon calling me a nickname pertaining to my age, I'd prefer daddy."

All humor drops from your face. How the fuck does he even know about that?

As if he can read your mind, he responds. "A lot of you humans like to reproduce here. I've seen quite a bit and heard even more. Like I said, you’re absolutely filthy creatures.”

“Ah. Yeah. That makes sense.”

“My offer stands. Come a little closer and I’ll show you just what I learned.”

“Creep.”

“That makes two of us, now doesn’t it?”

"I'm not the one bringing up sex every 3 seconds."

Hey, do you know how awkward it is to be having this conversation? With him? Right now? Do you know how utterly surreal this is?

“No, but you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks burn and you know it doesn't matter what you say. Your face is a dead giveaway. He knows it too, crossing his arm and arching a cocky brow at you.

“And I’m the pervert, huh?”

You wrap your arms around your legs again in a subconscious show of defense. "Yes, you are. This is a natural response to embarrassing topics. Topics you keep coming back to."

He shrugs again, his head fins twitching a few times. "I don't deny my nature. If I feel lustful, I act on it. Another reason you humans are inferior. You deny what comes naturally in the name of some form of... shame, is it? I have no bonds holding me back, while yours are pointless and dictated by some invisible and shallow form of ‘morality’ and ‘purity."

He’s… technically right. Still.

"You realize you're saying this to the person you're trying to kill, right?"

"I'm aware. Consider it a parting gift. You can feel what it's like to be untethered before I end you."

You roll your eyes so deeply that you’re almost certain you’ve detached the retina. “Oh, how very kind of you. So thoughtful.”

"It’s not entirely altruistic, but it's better than I was originally planning. I was just going to rip you apart the second I pulled you in. Of course, that was before I got a good look at you. It'd be a shame to waste such a pretty thing without getting a taste first.”

It's a twisted compliment, but you appreciate it, at least as much as the circumstances allow.

“Thanks… I think?”

"It's a good thing, I promise. I won't just touch anyone, you know. Most of your kind repulses me. I'm not an easy please."

"Oh." Another awkward silence. "What makes me so special, anyways?"

His face blanks over, eyes hardening and mouth pursing in a tight line. He opens his lips a few times to speak, but seemingly stops himself. His expression flashes confusion, then rage, then apathy in quick succession. "I don't know. It won't matter for long anyways, soon you'll be dead and I can move on."

“Not if I win.”

"You won't. I don't lose. Besides, I've already almost gotten you twice. It's only a matter of time before you slip up again, and I'll be there to catch you when you do."

"Put it like that and it almost sounds sweet." A smile tugs at your lips despite yourself.

His face flushes and he looks away from you, expression contorting. “It’s not. Don’t twist my words.”

“Spoilsport. Go eat a mackerel or something. You’re not yourself when you’re hungry. Or maybe you are. Either way, you’re cranky.”

"It's hard not to be cranky when there's a meal right in front of me and I can't indulge."

"Quit threatening to eat me. I get the point, it's just weird.”

His thick tongue flicks out and runs across those glimmering teeth and he just smiles. "Who said anything about eating?"

“Give it a rest.”

He swipes a small amount of water at you with his thumb and forefinger. "Deny it all you'd like, you enjoy the attention."

"Definitely. I love being the first human to be hit on by the world's first mermaid fuckboy."

A hybrid mix of a groan and a growl rumbles from his chest. "I'm not a fucking mermaid!"

"Oh, sorry!" The sarcasm is palpable, and he scowls at you again. You love the fact he doesn't deny the secondary insult. "I meant merman."

"Don't insult me. As if your petty, unimaginative fairytales could even come close."

"You have a tail, you live underwater, and you're half human. Sounds pretty damn close to me."

The look on his face is as if you just forced him to swallow something extraordinarily disgusting. "You have no idea what I'm capable of. And I'm not half human. You're half us."

Now that takes you off guard.

“What did you say? What do you mean?”

"It doesn't matter." He pushes himself away from the rocks, his tail slightly flapping above the surface. "Besides, you were right. I am hungry. I should probably find something to eat for tonight, unless you’ve changed your mind." He doesn’t bother waiting for you to retort before skillfully diving down back beneath the waves.

You want to stop him, but he’s gone before you can think of a creative way to say ‘hell no’. The slight dash of silver hair makes out towards the horizon and before long, he's gone. As always, he leaves you feeling more frustrated than anything.

You want to stay, to enjoy the ocean like you used to before he barged his way into your life, but it all just feels too strange now. He won't return tonight, you know that much.

Heaving yourself off your asleep butt, you begin your bowlegged walk back to civilization, left with nothing but the ache of a cramp in your hips and a strangely heavy feeling in your gut.

#Shigaraki x Reader #Shigaraki Tomura #Come Down to the Black Sea #See warnings up top

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years ago

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A very little guy Christmas (DC)

It was the most wonderful time of the year, at least if you asked a certain orangeish red haired freckled faced 10 year old in a 19 year old's body.

wally west always loved Christmas but this year was better then any other as Christmas morning also happened to land on the 4 month anniversary of him and his wonderful boyfriend Dick having moved in together.

Their modest little one story house was well stocked thanks to stocks Dick had from his adopted father Bruce Wayne that were managed by Lucas fox meaning neither boy HAD to work out side of the occasional superhero stint.

Dick had actually been thinking about getting a bigger house till wally had pointed out they didn't have a butler and he wasn't gonna just clean the palace pointing out 'just because I move at super speed doesn't mean I'm not still putting in the same effort'

That being said, Wally had taken it upon himself to put up the Christmas decorations, Dick had just come home with the box with the speedster had removed it from his hands and it look like a Christmas explosion had happened in the house, both inside and out.

"..You know, Barry warned me but I didn't believe him." Dick had teased.

"Hey! I left the tree alone for us to do together." Wally had said, a mock pout on his face, and earning a kiss on his freckled cheek from dick that almost made him melt.

"That you did Wall man, that you did."

As the pair had set up the tree, Dick couldn't help but gush mentally about how much his lover and best friend seemed to have regressed just from such a simple act. he loved the freckled dork with all of his heart and it was that love that helped him get over the semi hurt he'd experience a month before after discovering the dork's secret, something he apparently thought was so shameful that not even Barry or Iris knew about. Considering the bond between the three that said lots.

Still while he had been temped to confront wally at the time, Dick had a better plan and was waiting for Christmas morning, when his adorable little speedster would get a very special Christmas present from Santa.

"Dick! you're not gonna believe this, but somebody, and I don't know who, ran in here and stole the last of those awesome sugar cookies you made while we were getting the tree decorated! I bet it was Zoom, he's always had a sweet tooth!" Wally said, shaking Dick out of his distracted thoughts.

Dick smirked. A speedster wasn't totally unnoticeable if you knew what you were looking for and while you wouldn't be able to do much to stop them in most cases, there was a tell tale vibration in the chest that you could feel if you trained yourself to notice it. even then Wally's claims that it could of been Zoom (who dick knew for a fact was locked up in Iron heights at the moment) Wally's claims fell flat due to the scatter of crumbs on his chin and a smudge of icing on his lip.

"Really? that DASTARDLY fiend!" Dick chuckled. "He even went the extra mile to plant evidence on you!"

Wally froze and blushed, then wiped his face getting icing and crumbs on his Christmas sweater and gave a sheepish laugh.

"oh uh..well, see.." wally started, rubbing the back of his head with the other arm.

"Relax, I'll make more after this, but your helping this time. note that means helping me make the dough and cook it, not stealing half of the cookie dough one tea spoon at a time." Dick chuckled.

"I can handle that, BUT!" and wally held up a finger. "Only if I get to lick the beaters."

"Deal dork."

With the presents under the tree, Wally had to keep fighting the urge Christmas eve not to just unwrap them and re wrap them at super speed to see what he got. For one, he knew it would spoil any surprises Dick had planned for him and well for anther.. he was Nightwing and had been trained by the freaking batman. there was no way Dick wouldn't of found out somehow.

Believe it or not, living with the world second (or was that third?) greatest detective could be a pain, no matter how great his butt looked.

'Though it IS a very, very sexy butt.' Wally thought, watching as Dick bent down to add a last second extra three presents.

"heh, really going all out and spoiling me this year even after I made you wear that ugly sweater huh?" Wally giggled, sitting on the couch and sipping at some eggnog.

It's a wonderful life was playing on TV though never of them were really paying attention to it, it was just a Christmas tradition that Dick had with Bruce and wally had been fine with carrying it on over to their house.

"Oh, these aren't from me. Superman was doing a favor for Santa and dropped these off early, he knows what a good boy you've been." Dick said and smirked.

Wally giggled, he of course knew there was no such thing as Santa (though given what kind of world he lived in, he'd maybe had spent A LOT of time in the north pole when he first got his powers looking for Santa's workshop) He loved how small dick was treating him and wised that he could of confessed his hidden side to Dick.

But with all the weirdo's that dick had dealt with in Gotham, the last thing he wanted was for Dick to find out that sometimes wally liked to act even younger then he had been since December 1st.

"heh, you think superman helps out at Santa's workshop?" Wally asked, winking, and keeping the little game going.

"well maybe once or twice, Likely doesn't do it too much or he'd put the elf's out of work you know." Dick fired back.

Wally snorted, he'd gone for anther drink of eggnog and now some flew out of his nose and onto the front of his own ugly sweater.

"Ha! Picture a picket line around the fortress! 'Workshop jobs for workshop elf's!' and all that!"

"heh, Or maybe he just doesn't care for the work uniform, having to wear the fake ears and all." dick said, coming over as wally was caught up in a fit of giggles mentally picturing it.

Dick smirked as the movie wasn't even halfway over and wally was already falling asleep, he'd caught him going out on a dozen pointless patrols though out the day but Barry had warned him wally tried to tire himself out on Christmas eve under the whole 'the sooner I go to bed, the sooner it's CHRISTMAS!' mindset.

Despite having no powers of his own Dick was pound for pound the stronger of the two (at least when wally wasn't using his speed to add force to his attacks) and Dick scooped the cutie up in his arms, wall's chest to his own and the sleeping redhead's face resting on his shoulder and getting it damp with drool.

arm under his silly little lover's butt and thigh's Dick carried him to their bedroom, gently setting wally on the king sized bed and then slowly getting him undressed, trying not to wake the little guy up.

Getting wally out of his sweater and pants and socks was the easy part, and Dick had originally planned and tucking wally into bed in just his Flash brief's.

The he got a look at the stained on them and rolled his eyes, the boy just didn't like to wipe right!

'Oh well, let's me get to see that cute freckled ass.' Dick mentally chuckled and slowly, carefully, a bit at a time got the undies off of the fastest dork alive.

picking out a pair of loose boxers (with a lighting bolt them going on) Dick tugged them up most of the way, getting Wally's cute little pee pee (though Dick knew it was a grower not a shower) covered up the rolled him gently over onto his side, and drooled little as he looked at dat ass.

the white almost pale skin (Since Wally didn't have the patience for tanning) made the brown freckles all over the boys bubble butt stick out and if it wasn't for the fact he'd of woken wally up, he'd of leaned down and blew a raspberry on one of those cheeks.

'Sigh, the things I do for the greater good.' Dick thought and tugged up the boxers instead and got the wall man tugged under the blankets.

Looking at the clock it was only 8 pm, and Dick wasn't used to going to sleep this early due to his years of patrolling the streets at night.

'..oh what the heck.' He thought, and after going and turning off all the lights in the house and making sure the doors were locked, made his way back to their bedroom and stripping down to his own undies, crawled under the blankets.

it wasn't even five seconds later before wally was snuggling into his chest and cooing 'daddy'

'...I could get used to this." Dick thought with a grin.

Wally yawned as he woke up, a grin coming over his face. He was alone in the bedroom though that wasn't anything new considering, same with Dick carrying him to bed when he conked out.

the only mild surprise was that he hadn't been woken up by a raspberry on his cheeks, he knew how much Dick loved his tushie.

Getting out of bed he slipped on a cream white sleeping robe, not bothering with a top or pants and his only detour as he made his way to the living room/kitchen because of it's open concept was to tap a kidney so to speak.

Dick had made coffee and was reading a new's parent, the tree lights on and a fire going in the fire place and he looked up to see Wally and smirked.

"About time sleepy head! I thought you were gonna sleep the whole day away." Dick teased lightly.

"he, It's only 6:30 in the morning Dick."

"Like I said.."

Blowing a raspberry at Dick wally eyed the presents under the tree and was about to make his move when Dick cleared his throat.

"I was thinking, I know normally Barry and iris let you open all your presents first..But I wanna open MINE all up first. trust me, it'll be worth the wait." Dick said, setting the paper down and coming over leaving his mug behind as well.

wally whined like a little boy and then bit his lip, He WAS semi used to ruling Christmas morning and it couldn't hurt to let Dick this, if he had to. he guessed.

"ooook. just don't take forever. I've seen you with wrapping paper, you try and save it!" wally said, unable to keep the BRAT out of his tone.

"I swear, I'll go fast..not as fast as you but.." Dick chuckled and took a seat.

In what took what seemed like hours to wally (though it was only 15 minutes at most) dick had unwrapped his presents, Having gotten marital arts gear, tech and books from members of the bat family (and some cook books from Alfred) It was his present from wally though that had Dick squealing with delight, as it was a old stuff toy robin Dick had tossed out when they first moved in together since it hadn't handled the move and had basically come apart.

Wally had found it, rescued it and after a few (ok a lot) hit and misses had managed to get it cleaned, stuffed and restitched back together.

"I know it's not as fancy as the other presents bu-" Wally was said, rubbing the back of his head but was cut off as Dick Hugging him hard and kissed both his cheeks over and over.

"Thank you! I love it!" Dick gushed. "This makes me SO glad I went all out for your gifts!"

"heh, ooooh? and speaking of~" wally said, grinning like a fool and blushing at just how much Dick treasured his cheap fixed up stuffed toy over the insane amount of cash that had been spent on his other gifts.

"Yes! Though hand on, I wanna give you your gifts in the right order!" Dick said and semi rushed and pushed wally onto a seated position on the floor.

"heh, jeez, remind me that plushies are the way to your heart." Wally giggled, but took a seat cross legged and holding out his arms, his hands all in 'gimme!' mode.

The first present was from Wally's parents, a set pot's and pans even though they already had some, they tended to try and be practical.

The second was from his ex Artemis, who he was still friends with since the break up had been on both of them and she was dating Red arrow these days. It was a book on the zen of archarcy, though wally wasn't much into shooting.

The third and forth were from Tim and Barbra, Robin and batgirl and were some lower tech versions of the gifts Dick had gotten and the firth was large book with lots of fairy tales in it with vivid drawing to go along with the text.

"heh, Guess Alfred doesn't know I'm not much of a reader." Wally said, blushing at that gift and how childish it was.

"oh you'd be surprised what Al knows." Dick said in a amused voice.

Wally went to ask what that meant but was shushed as the first present from Santa was handed to him, and Dick stood by, with a HUGE grin on his face as wally took the bulky thing and torn at the tape, only to freeze and blush red all over and look back up at Dick.

"Merry Christmas little guy." Dick said as wally looked back down at the pack of little waddlers, the diapers for big babies in his lap.

"I.. but ..you.. " wally whined, trying to find the words to ask just HOW Dick had known Wally was a closeted adult baby!

"Before you ask, Just remember, I'm a world class dective, I found out last month and you have NO idea how hard it's been to keep it to myself till now. well mostly to myself." Dick chuckled.

"...Mostly?" Wally asked, gulping and looking back under the tree.

there was still two more presents from Santa, a present or two from dick, -groan- a present from batman and..

"Tell me you didn't tell Barry and Iris!?" wally whined and pouted.

"I would but that would set a bad example for my baby boy. you shouldn't fib." Dick laughed.

Dick felt a little bit bad as wally whined and whimpered, clearly he hadn't of wanted Barry and Iris to know but they were coming over for dinner later (with Dick and wally going to Wayne manor for dinner on boxing day) and he wanted him free to be a little guy all day.

"can i at least get one of my diapies on before we open the rest?" Wally whined, hugging the pack close to his chest and making Dick smirk.

"Open up your present from Santa then we'll get my widdle man in his diapies." Dick said, Kissing the redhead's cheek and breaking the pout from his face, though damn if wally didn't try and keep pouting, it just kept turning into a grin.

'Santa's' other two presents it turned out were a six pack of wipes and baby powder for the babies bottom, making it clear to Wally that Dick was more then willing to change him.(and BOY did Dick watching that realization click and the the MASSIVE blush that brought!) and then a second pack of diapers.

"Don't worry, we'll get more as you need them, we can even clear out your underwear drawer if we have to." Dick said cheerfully and got a reply that was music to his ears.

"DADDY!"

"awww, it's ok. I know you'll wanna make me all sorts of presents. Now, ready to get your diapies on?" Dick asked, coming closer and gently pushing Wally onto his back.

"Y-yeah but right here?" wally asked, eyes darting to the window, even though the curtains were drawn shut.

"hey, you wanna be a big baby, you have to go with it..when does a BABY get to chose where he gets his huggies changed?" Dick asked teasingly.

"I hate you so much right now!" Wally huffed and laid back, crossing his arms.

"No you don't." Dick said.

"..No I don't." wally agreed.

it was surreal, having his loving boyfriend being so ok with this and slipping into a daddy role with such ease.. It also had wally mentally cursing himself for not having spoken up sooner since he could of been rocking out in diapers ALL this time!

he closed his eyes not in shame but in bliss and his arms uncrossed as a thumb found it's way into his mouth as Dick pulled his undies off then opened the package.

"How many diapers do you want on little man? you can keep sucking your thumb and show me with your finger unless it's gonna take more then five." Dick teased gently.

wally squirmed LOTS at that, he had toyed and experimented with layering of course, what big baby hadn't? but those were cheap store brand diapers and he wanted to make these last.

Thinking about it for a second, wally held up three fingers.

"ok, can do.. Hmm.. Should of gotten your robe off first." Dick said.

Wanting to speed this along and get his butt back in diapers wally took matters into his own hands, thumb out of mouth and eyes open as he quickly shed the robe and tossed it down the hall like it was on fire and then was back on the floor, shivering a little from the cold, and a whole lot from excitement.

"heh, well that takes care of THAT I suppose." Dick laughed and tickled Wally's tummy as the speedster went back to slobbering on his thumb, but kept his eyes open this time.

Dick made a show of it, Unfolding each of the bulky baby print diapers and teasing wally almost with them and making the little reach out with his free hand, all I want.

he was almost making Wally's little guy stick up to a full 6 inches.

"Well, if I had ANY doubt you didn't want this before." Dick chuckled then added "Butt up wall man."

Wally listened to daddy and lifted his hips, all three diaper had been layered on top of each other and it felt like he was resting his butt on a pillow as his tushie came back down, his stiffly twitching wildly and Wally blushed, he was gonna cream hands free any second now.

"Guess I better stop teasing and hurry up before you shoot and coat yourself and have to go for a bath." Dick chuckled, quickly sprinkling LOTS of baby powder on Wally's privates and BARLEY getting the inner most diaper taped up before wally started to jerk his hips up and down, crying out around his thumb as load after load of 'baby milk' shot out into the diaper, Dick watching the show and though his orgasmic haze Wally could see Dick was getting excited as well.

Dick had to admit, while he'd of never thought of being a daddy dom before, he was finding it super fun and hot as fuck. watching wally cream that hard just from his huggies had Dick wanting to replace that thumb with a certain put of himself in Wally's mouth, but this was all about the baby and there would be time for that later.

Waiting for the hip's to stop jerking Dick moved a hand down and even though the thickness of the diaper could feel how hard his boyfriend turned baby boy was spurting and leaned down, smooching the big babies cheek and setting off anther wave of orgasmic bliss for the little guy.

Once wally was done, Dick smiled and rubbed Wally's tummy.

"have fun?" Dick asked and wally nodded. "Do you still wanna go on with the rest of the diapers or do you need a bit of big boy time after you cream?"

He wasn't being mean, he'd be happy to keep babying little wally but also didn't wanna force this on him anymore then he already had with the telling Barry and iris and Bruce.

wally pulled his thumb out, and there was a line of drool with it that Dick somehow found just even cuter and he gushed in a babyish voice.

"me wanna wear diapies ALL day dada." Wally coo'ed.

Dick's cock almost shot then and there and he was positive it was only his training in self control under Bruce and other martial art master that kept him from shooting though his undies and coating wally.

'maybe I'm gonna need a diaper too at this rate.' dick mused to himself then out loud. "Ok little guy!"

triple diapered and feeling all so small in the most wonderful way, Wally had turned into a little cuddle bug and kept nuzzling into Dick whenever he wasn't opening a present or waiting for Dick to get him one.

His present from Barry and iris was a large teddy bear, with a kid flash outfit on and by larger it was almost as big as his upper body and he gave it LOTS of hugs and named it Teddy flash right then and there.

His present from Bruce was confusing, as it was a book about how to stop bed wetting and he held it up for Dick to see with a eyebrow raised.

"Yeahhh..Bruce didn't really get what I was trying to tell him and just settled on thinking you were a bed wetter so I ran with it." Dick explained sheepishly.

"heh, Ok. Guess that means no wearing to grandpa's house huh?" Wally giggled.

"Ha! yeah, don't think that'll work out..though Alfred semi knows hence the fairy tales and well, Tim's got a lot of quirks like you so think he'd just get jealous." Dick chuckled.

Wally giggled LOTS at that and then it was time for his gifts from Dick, which included two type of paci's (one with a naughty nipple and one with a normal) A set of Lego blocks but the big ones meant for babies, a rattle, a few more stuffies (A anther bear, a owl, a rabbit) and a diaper shirt that was main yellow with the flash logo on the front and on the back went 'Faster pooper alive!' in red lightning text.

He also got a teddy bear themed shirt and shorts outfit, a couple of toddler show DVDS and of course his FAVORITE onesie, the one he insisted on right away, was a red one with green trim and a picture of mistletoe on the small of the back, just above the butt and text about it saying "Kiss under the mistletoe"

Getting the onesie on the little guy wasn't easy, Dick would have to see if Iris could let it out some or something or just cut back on the diapers when Wally wanted to read it.

But as the protege of the god damn batman wasn't one to give up quick and with a lot of effort and grunting he got the crotch snaps done up, though he had to make use of some spirit gun like he used to keep his mask on to do it.

unsurprisingly Wally wasted little time as soon as it was on, rolling over and getting on his hands and knees and offering his massive padded rear up and looking over his shoulder.

"Welllll Daddy? Aren't you gonna kiss me 'under the mistletoe'?" he asked, breaking into a fit of giggled.

"I suppose I better do it now before you go uh-oh." Dick countered and too lots of hoots and giggles, Leaned in and planted a big old smooch on Wally's diapered butt.

"Hehehehehe I might be a BIG baby..But your a BUTT kisser!" Wally giggled like mad.

Seeing how excited wally was Dick made a mental note NOT to let him have sugar while he was in little mode.

"Soooo what do we do noooooow?" Wally asked, plopping back on his butt, leg's spread.

"well I'm gonna go make use breakfast while YOU have a very, very important mission." Dick said, grabbing the first DVD he came across and noting the title then opening it.

"Ohhh?" Wally asked, tilting his head and getting the normal paci clipped to his onesie.

"Yup! You need to start watched Paw patrol so you can explain it all to daddy when he goes to watch it with you later. think you can handle that?" Dick asked.

Wally smirked and then put on a fake look of concern.

"it'll be tough.. but I MIGHT be able to handle it if I have my super science blocks to put together while I study the Intel sir!" Wally giggled.

"heh.. well of course!" Dick said, going and getting the dvd in the machine and turning on the tv, and hearing a weird scuffing noise turned around and grinned ear you ear.

Wall had the container of blocks in one arm, and was rocking his hips and using the other arm to guide him as he scooted across the floor on his butt!

'Just how did it take me finding diapers not to see what a little guy he is, and just how the hell does he manage to adult at all?' Dick wondered.

With the blocks dumped out (after Dick got them opened since there was plastic to cut and Wally was too little to have a knife of course) Wally set to work while sucking on his paci to make a semi mock computer, while Dick cued up the menu and had episode 1 ready to go, he was just waiting on 'agent baby' to give the thumbs up he was ready.

give the thumbs up wally could feel a familiar pressure building up rapidly in his bowels and thought about letting Dick know he had to go poopie, and ask to use the potty, he'd never actually crapped himself before.

'nggggh.. nah. he said I hafa think like a baby and babies dun get to pick when and what they use their diapers for.' Wally thought and leaned forward as Dick passed him by, deciding to give his boyfriend a slight warning of what was coming by giving out a poot.

Instead, the 3 days of backed up poopie in his tummy (his eating habit's sometimes could back him up for days as food struggled to get though) took the opening and a soft 'eek!' escaped from his lips and a massive amount of poopie forced it's way out into his diapers, bulking them out even more but because of the spirit gum the onesie couldn't just pop open which meant once the back of the diaper was full, it only had one place to go.. the front.

Hands on the floor and on his knee's wally suckled hard on his paci as his poopies coated the front of his diapies, making him make tinkles and milk again and as the massive load came to a stop three or four minutes later, he opened his eyes and saw Dick smiling, having watched the whole thing.

"So glad you made room for din din. I'll change you after we eat." he said and then gently and firmly pushed wally onto his squishy and smelly seat and made the big baby make anther load of baby milk.

Unsurprisingly, he wasn't able to tell daddy much about paw patrol.

The end

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years ago

Text

that original lifeline

chapter 4 / 5 - “you deserve what you are given” - 2.2k

in which Eddie has a chance at some closure—but not in the way you might think.

note the update to the chapter count—it didn't feel right wrapping up everything in one last chapter. the beautiful, wonderful @buckleydiazs inspired a totally new ending with one of her recent works and honestly you should all be reading everything she’s ever written.

that all said and done, I won't keep you waiting too long. the last chapter will be up tomorrow, and I love all of you forever and ever.

read on AO3

For all intents and purposes, Eddie Diaz felt like a dead man walking.

He had been swallowed up by the Earth and spit back out, in once piece, but that didn’t mean that he was whole.

For the first month, he seemed to fluctuate wildly between the first three stages of grief, but honestly, he attributed a good portion of that to the mandatory leave of absence he had been given from the 118. He had already lost an eternal being, so sure, absolutely, losing the one routine he had going for him was great!

As ashamed as he was to admit it, his denial spiked the highest whenever he was around Christopher. His son was so good, so fucking kind, and sweet, and it just didn’t feel fair for Eddie to do anything other than smile with him and support him in any way that he could. He had to admit, that was the only shred of silver lining he could see in his mandatory leave—he got to wake up with Chris every morning, he got to take him to school and pick him up after, and he got to give Carla a very, very well deserved vacation.

If he spent the hours that Chris was out of the house begging to a God that he figured hated him, well, that was his own business.

When he did get angry, Eddie made damn sure to do it on his own time, in his own house, in his own state of being—he would sooner jump back under an exploding fire truck than allow any of his anger leak through to Chris, and besides, the only person that he was really angry with was himself. He still didn’t know why he had volunteered to go down in the first place—Chim would have been the much more logical choice, he was smaller, he was lighter, and he could move faster, all of that proven when Chim had successfully pulled the kid out of the muddy hole in record time. Unfortunately, there was one thing he didn’t have—the heaps of fucked up brainpower that Eddie seemed to tap into whenever he was out on a call that involved a kid.

Somewhere around the six week mark, Eddie’s brain had finally given up on bouncing back and forth between denial, bargaining, and anger, and instead slipped right into stage four—a deep, comfortable, whole body depression—one that felt impossible to shake, one that felt like a thick, weighted blanket, wrapped around his body, layering guilt, sadness, shame….

…well. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone that he wasn’t in a great place. But what the hell else was he supposed to do, go to therapy?

“Hi, I’m Eddie, I’m sad because my guardian angel died. I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks without nightmares about being buried alive. Why yes, I am still on active duty as a firefighter.”

Yeah, that was going to go over so well.

One of the many fucked up surprises this newer, nihilistic state of being brought him were the rare moments when he managed to break out of the shell he used to call a personality. He would snort with a sudden spike of laughter at something a comic on television said, or feel a pulse of genuine sadness when he was reading Chris his bedtime story. The moments were few and far between, and they were never more than a few seconds long.

So, the surge of resignation he felt when he saw red and blue lights erupt in his rearview mirror came as something of a surprise, in and of itself… and then he realized he was going ten over the limit, and resigned this entire day to another page in the Eddie Diaz book.

It was one of his rare days off—rare, because he had been picking up every extra shift he could to help keep his mind busy—and Chris had been overjoyed at the idea of spending a day with Abuela, a rare treat for both of them once Carla entered their lives. Eddie had swung by after work, had an early dinner with his family, kissed Abuela and Pepa goodbye while dodging all of their questions about what was wrong, and why he looked so sad, and if you would just talk to us, Eddito. He had ignored it all, skillfully loaded Chris into the back of his truck, pretended not to feel a little envious when his son passed out within minutes, and—

—and now he was getting pulled over for speeding.

Eddie allowed himself all of five seconds to rest his head against the steering wheel, the urge to scream only lessened by the knowledge that Chris was asleep in the back of his truck, before he pulled out his wallet and fished his license and registration out. He rolled his window down as the officer started to walk toward the truck, unable to even entertain the idea that he was going to drive away with less than a ticket for whatever it was he had done wrong.

“You can go ahead and put those away.”

Eddie blinked in confusion as the officer approached his window, his hand hesitating awkwardly before he slowly pulled his arm back inside his truck, the cards tossed absentmindedly onto the passengers seat of the truck.

“I don’t need your license to know who you are, Edmundo. It’s good to finally meet you. I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I had to ensure we wouldn’t be interrupted.”

Typically, an announcement like that usually would have set off every siren in Eddie’s head, but he hadn’t had the energy for something like that for weeks now. Instead, he shifted in his seat, not quite leaning out the window but definitely getting a better look at the officer standing just outside his truck, the lights from her squad car still blinking in his side view mirror.

“How do you know who I am?”

She smiled, expression sharp and calculating, and Eddie didn’t need her to take off her sunglasses to know that she was looking him over, staring right through him. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt desperate that she would approve of whatever it was that she saw.

“My name is Athena.”

Suddenly, things clicked in his brain, and it wasn’t just in the sharp smile of the officer—or, not officer—standing in front of him. He was knocked back, almost violently, sitting outside of a shitty shake shack with Buck, ankles knocked together under the table, laughing about whatever.

He almost choked as a surge of emotion shot through him, rattling the very shell of his empty being, a sadness and a guilt so strong, so overwhelming, that it threatened to spill out of him in a moments notice. He gripped the steering wheel so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised if he bent it, face going through a flurry of emotions, not trusting himself to speak when he couldn’t even breathe.

Fuck, here Eddie was supposed to be strong, for his kid, for his teammates, and four words had him blinking back tears in the drivers seat of his truck. “Athena, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what he was going to do, I wouldn’t have let him, I promise, this is all my—“

“Hey, hey, stop that.” She took a small step forward as Eddie felt his jaw click shut, tucking her sunglasses into her uniform pocket. “I don’t blame you for anything, and you shouldn’t be blaming yourself. Buck told you about our relationship with free will, right? Well, he had it, too. Everything he did was by choice. His energy was his own to give, and you can’t beat yourself up for him choosing to use it on you. He wouldn’t want that.”

Her smile had softened into something more genuine, something more understanding, and as much as Eddie wanted to let it calm him down, wanted to trust it, he… couldn’t.

Eddie felt another wave of emotion surge forward, dangerously close to the edge—anger this time, hot and sticky in the back of his throat. Here this perfect stranger was telling him what to think, what to believe, what Buck would want, and the worst part of it all was that Eddie had no reason to doubt her. All in all, he really, really didn’t know Buck—not as well as he thought he did, certainly. But maybe not even at all.

No sooner did that thought enter his mind did his anger die down, leaving him feeling nauseous, guilty, and as gross as it was to admit it—a little pleased. He hadn’t felt genuine emotion in so long, he had been beginning to think he couldn’t anymore.

Eddie let out a rattling breath as he leaned forward to rest his head on the steering wheel once again, only now, Athena looked mostly sympathetic, arms loosely at her sides, thumbs tucked into her utility belt as she waited for Eddie to get his bearings again.

“I miss him.”

Athena let out a little laugh as she nodded her head, her smile wide again, looking at Eddie with something between fondness and exasperation. It was a look he had grown very used to, spending more time with Abuela.

“I know, Eddie. I do too.”

They shared another moment of silence while Eddie counted his breaths, interrupted only when Athena cleared her throat and looked down, kicking at the ground near Eddie’s front tire.

“I’m not going to stand here and try to placate you with promises, or niceties, because this world is already unstable enough, and I am not going to waste either of our time. I’m here to offer you a choice, Eddie. I’m here to offer you a chance of… closure, of sorts.”

Eddie felt his pulse start to quicken as she spoke, not because of the words she said, but because Eddie could already feel it—the same warmth, the energy that used to dance around Buck, was already beginning to swirl around Athena’s narrow frame, making Eddie homesick for a place he didn’t think he would ever be able to return to.

“What, um…” He had to swallow, taking a moment to look at Chris in the rear view mirror, still conked out against his doorframe. “What exactly are you offering me?”

Athena’s jaw was squared again, slowly lifting her hand up from her belt, fingers splayed before her. If it was a little darker out—if Eddie closed his eyes—he could almost swear they were luminous.

“Buck was under my care, he was my responsibility, and that means you were too, even if it was in an indirect way. Eddie, I didn’t know what was going to happen, before or after you went down that hole, but I hope you believe me when I tell you how sorry I am that you had to go through that. No human should ever have to deal with… with a loss of that magnitude.”

And there it was, the unbreakable truth that Athena had been dancing around since she pulled him over. Loss. It was a loss, Buck really was gone. Not an angel, not a guardian, not anymore. Eddie had to swallow again.

“I can’t lessen that pain. Only time can do that, and to what extent, even I don’t know. But what I can do is take it away from you, make you forget. Your life will still be your own, but the moments where Buck shone through will be altered, so you’ll have seen the situations just like any other human would have.”

Eddie took in a deep breath, letting it out between loose lips, taking in a few more before he could speak. “So it’ll be like I never saw him in the first place. Like I never knew what was protecting me.”

Athena nodded her head, moving her fingers slowly, focusing on them as much as she was on him. “It’s important to me that you understand I won’t force you to do anything here—this is all your choice. And I’m sorry to say it’s a choice you have to make relatively quickly, I’m already breaking enough protocols being here right now.”

Eddie laughed—he couldn’t help himself, the sound pulled from his throat without him expecting it. “So I guess you’re where Buck got his strict adherence to the rules, huh?”

Athena clicked her tongue and leaned in to smack his arm with her free hand, but the smile on her face was genuine, the touch feather light compared to what Eddie knew she could do.

“His presence has been a bright spot in your life, and I’m glad for that, but I know it can get awful dark without that light. So, it’s up to you. Do you want to keep living, having had this experience, but knowing that no one can relate to it, can help you past it now that it’s over? Or do you want to forget you ever saw his light, to be able to move forward without this darkness weighing on your heart?”

For the first time in months, Eddie was able to sleep through the night.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 #guardianangel!buck #guardian angel #AU #closure #hurt/comfort #this chapter and my entire heart dedicated to cailee who single handedly unintentionally changed the whole direction of the ending

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bgn846 · 4 years ago

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Satum Novum Chapter 5: Revelations of the Heart FFXV Gladnis

<Previous Chapter 4

The blond seemed to be demanding an answer, not that Gladio was going to give one, but Prompto had begged an interesting question.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Gladio defended.

“Ah come on, you let him sleep in your cabin when we picked him up. You stayed with him the whole time while he was resting. Not to mention whatever the heck was going on earlier today, when his head was resting in your lap!” Prompto enthused. “I’d say that means you like him.”

“I wanted to make sure he was alright. There’s nothing wrong with that!”

“Gladio, admit it.” Prompto sighed. “I mean it’s obvious he likes you too.”

“Wait, you think so?” He asked quickly.

“Oh emm geee you’re terrible. Go check on them again, it’s been a few hours since we left the island. Maybe Ignis woke up and needs something, like another hug.” The blond added with a smirk.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me blondie, I thought we were friends.” Gladio huffed.

“We are! I’m your wing man and I can’t stand here and watch you mess this up. Go be the nice guy I know you are and sweep him off his feet.”

“Dork, I’ve already done that, twice.”

Rolling his eyes Prompto turned back to stare out the window. He didn’t say anything else but Gladio could tell he had a smile on his freckled face. The kid was enjoying his teasing, but he did make a good point. He should go check on their guests.

Rolling over, Noct tried to figure out why his bed had shrunk when everything came flooding back. He’d been kidnapped and rescued. Popping his eyes open revealed a small but clean cabin with two bunks. Ignis was in the other one and in a deep sleep.

The prince had never seen his advisor in such a state. The man did look comfy though, the t-shirt he was wearing was three sizes too big and sliding off one of his shoulders. Even his mouth was parted slightly, he was clearly exhausted.

Noct was in a funny place mentally, he was tired but not enough to go back to sleep. Maybe he needed to eat more. He remembered Gladio had fed them so there must be food somewhere. He got up slowly and thankfully Noct had enough energy left to walk properly, albeit slowly. A thought occurred to him that he should tell Ignis what he was up to. The advisor would probably wake up and freak out if he wasn’t there.

However, he would need to wake him up to do that and he felt bad even considering it. Noct’s memory flashed back to when Ignis had literally passed out earlier that day. His advisors face had gone slack and he looked so lost. The prince didn’t want to interrupt his sleep but he figured he could at least try.

He shuffled over to Ignis’ bunk and gingerly sat on the edge. “Iggy?” He called out softly. If Ignis was lightly sleeping, though Noct doubted it, he would hear his name being spoken. The advisor didn’t move a muscle. He tried again but a little louder. This time Ignis moved an eyebrow ever so slightly. “Can you hear me? I’m gonna go get some more food so don’t worry okay.”

Noct waited to see if this would garner another response. He was about to give up when Ignis narrowly cracked open his eyes, revealing two tired green eyes.

“Hnnggnn.” Was all he managed to produce in regards to speech.

“Don’t wake up the rest of the way, I’m safe and I’m getting more food okay?” He tried again.

“Mmmhmmm.” Was the response.

“Rest, I’ll be back.” Noct finished as he made a point to tuck the blanket around Ignis’ shoulders better. This seemed to do the trick and he closed his eyes. Noct waited a minute to make sure his breathing would even out, signaling he’d fallen back asleep. It took ten seconds at most and Ignis was conked out and lightly snoring.

Now he had to figure where to find more food. Pulling the door open slowly he stepped out into the hallway and looked around. Unsure of what direction to go, he turned right and hobbled along using the wall for support. He’d opted to leave his boots behind as his socks were thick enough to cushion his feet.

When he saw a pair of stairs leading up to a brighter area he got excited. Fresh air sounded really good right about now. However, the second he stepped on the bottom step a shadow appeared at the top.

“Hey are you alright?” A deep voice asked.

Noct was waiting for his eyes to adjust but the voice sounded similar. The accent was off but it sure sounded like Clarus. Oh, right Gladio had been there when he’d been rescued. “I’m good, um – I’m hungry again.”

“Oh that’s an easy one, can you follow me?” Gladio asked.

Noct nodded and slowly walked upstairs. He hated having to go so slow, but his body was protesting every movement. Clarus’ son lead the way down another hallway and finally into a larger room. He saw a kitchen and he immediately got excited.

“I can cook you something or you can pick what you want.” Gladio offered.

“Are you a good cook?” Noct asked curiously.

“Prompto doesn’t complain.”

“Um – I don’t mind if you cook, so long as you don’t add vegetables.”

Gladio laughed and shook his head. “No sweat off my back highness, have a seat and I’ll see what I can do.”

Thirty minutes later and Noct was chowing down on a yummy steak with fries. This was just what he needed. “Do you think I could sit upstairs for a little bit?”

“Sure I don’t mind, do you want to be on the bridge with Prompto or by yourself?”

Noct thought back to other man that had been with Ignis when he was rescued. A shock of blond hair and friendly demeanor were coming to mind, as Noct reminisced. “Will he mind me crashing if I wanna sit on the bridge?”

“Nah, so long as you don’t mind the nonstop talking.” Gladio added as he cleared the dirty plates away.

Smiling Noct shook his head and stood up. “Lead the way.” The prince was a little nervous about trying to make a new friend, but he figured it was worth a shot. Five minutes after Gladio introduced them, Prompto was chattering away like he’d known Noct for years.

It was refreshing to have someone ignore his title and treat him normally.

Gladio watched as Noct started to open up to his friend. Prompto was an easy guy to talk with so that helped. It only took five minutes before he felt comfortable enough to leave them alone. “I’m gonna go check on Ignis, page me if you need me.”

“Sure thing big guy.” Prompto replied.

Gladio continued on his way towards Ignis’ cabin. He wasn’t sure what good it would do to check in on the man. He was supposed to be sleeping not taking visitors. By the time Gladio was standing in front of the cabin door, he decided to knock once and then peer in to make sure all was well.

Of course after his knock nothing happened, Ignis was sleeping! So Gladio slowly and quietly opened the door. The advisor was out cold, resting comfortably under the blankets. Well that was easy, his job was done. However, Gladio kept standing in the doorway staring at Ignis, willing him to wake up.

Finally after a few minutes he gave up and turned to leave. He had almost closed the door when he heard a small noise. It had come from inside the cabin and Gladio pushed open the door once more. Ignis appeared to still be asleep but his face seemed different, it wasn’t calm and relaxed anymore.

Gladio wracked his brain trying to figure out what was wrong. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks, Ignis was having a bad dream. His only experience with nightmares was Prompto. The kid would yell and cry it was intense. Thankfully they’d lessened considerably since the blond first arrived.

Now as he watched Ignis quietly battle with his inner daemons, Gladio had to figure out how to wake him up. Taking a seat along the edge of the bunk Gladio tried calling his name. The first time didn’t elicit a response but the second time Ignis sucked in a breath and turned his head. The advisor’s eyes were still closed but it seemed as though he was struggling to wake up.

He groaned and rolled over towards Gladio. “I don’t want to die.” He whispered.

“Ignis, hey wake up. You’re safe, you’re not gonna die.”

The advisor opened his eyes at Gladio’s statement and looked at him. “What happened?”

“You’re safe and so is Noct, we are headed back to Altissia to catch the bad guys. Remember?”

He paused and blinked a few times. “Oh, yes that’s right.”

“Did you have a bad dream?”

“I was out at sea again, except you didn’t rescue me so I was drowning.”

“Shit that’s scary, but you’re safe and not out at sea.” Gladio offered trying to help. Ignis seemed so stressed by the dream and Gladio wasn’t sure how to help. Thinking back on how he’d had to learn to deal with Prompto’s nightmares, he asked another question. “Um – do you need a hug?”

This caught Ignis’ attention right away. “You don’t mind?” He asked with wide eyes. “I think that would be very helpful.”

Without answering Gladio extended his arms and pulled Ignis upright and into a hug. His body was hot and Gladio could feel Ignis’ heart pounding as they embraced. Taking a deep breath Gladio decided to try something a little more and began rubbing the advisor’s back.

“Mmm –.” Ignis mumbled from where his head was buried in Gladio’s shoulder.

“Do you have bad dreams very often?”

“No thankfully, I fear the stress of my current situation has affected me negatively.” Ignis answered softly as he swung his arms around Glaido’s neck and squeezed.

“Someone trying to kill you and your best friend would do that.” Gladio surmised with a small nod.

“You feel good.” Ignis added after a moment.

“So do you.” He answered without thinking. Shit, what did he just say? He wasn’t the one that needed comforting, Ignis was. The advisor didn’t react and didn’t move away, maybe he hadn’t heard him.

“Thank you for being so kind. I really can’t express how much it means to me.”

“No thanks needed I’m happy I could help.” Gladio replied honestly as he held Ignis close. The feeling of muscles and limbs shifting slightly caused Gladio to panic, was Ignis pulling away already? Instead the advisor tipped his head back to look at Gladio directly. He didn’t say anything but held Gladio’s gaze with light green eyes. They betrayed his true condition, exhaustion, despite their beauty.

Gladio was sure if he was questioned later, he wouldn’t have an answer for what happened next. Maybe he was caught up in the moment. Before he could stop his brain, he’d squeezed Ignis even tighter and leaned down to kiss him. The man in his arms melted the instant their lips connected.

The first few kisses were chaste but it didn’t take long and Gladio could feel Ignis’ tongue seeking entrance. He parted his lips with a moan as they intensified the kiss. Ignis’ slender but strong fingers were pulling at his hair. A lightheaded feeling had taken root in Gladio’s head as they kissed, it was euphoric. He never wanted this moment in time to end, it felt so good.

A broken sigh caught Gladio’s attention next as Ignis pulled away. “I – I feel – dizzy.” He finally conceded in between breaths.

“Me too, but I think yours might be amplified by losing blood yesterday.” Gladio quipped.

Ignis laughed softly and leaned in again to rest his head on Gladio’s shoulder. “Don’t let go.” He pleaded. “I can’t – I can’t – I need you with me.” He tried.

Gladio thought he might understand the surge of emotions Ignis was going through, as he was experiencing something on a similar level. “I’m not going anywhere, I won’t let you go.”

“Please.” Ignis begged again. “I need you.”

As they sat there Gladio tried to pour of all his emotions into the hug. He wanted Ignis to know he was safe. A small nagging thought in the back of Gladio’s head finally surged forward. Ignis needed to rest, and this current activity was hindering that. “Hey Ignis.” He tried gently. “You need to get more sleep.”

Ignis instantly squeezed harder and whined. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t want to leave you; I want to hold you while you rest.” Gladio tried to explain as they sat tangled together. It took a minute before Ignis answered with a small nod of his head. It was a slight struggle to get situated in the bunk. The advisor didn’t really want to relinquish his hold, and neither did he if he admitted it.

Finally though, after he’d managed to shed his shoes, he got them both comfortable. Ignis was safely situated between the wall and Gladio’s bulk. “Is this good?” He asked as Ignis glommed onto his body like a starfish.

“You don’t have to stay after I’ve fallen asleep – I understand if you have work to do.” Ignis admitted sheepishly.

“Shhh I’m stayin, you feel so good right now and I think we could both do with a break.”

Ignis released a deep breath; the advisor had been worried about his answer. That pained Gladio a little, he wasn’t going anywhere. Leaning down he kissed the top of Ignis’ head as he snuggled further into the covers and against Gladio’s body.

This had been an unexpected development. He knew they’d be discovered like this, Prompto would have a field day asking questions and trying to get the down low. It was worth the good hearted ribbing; Gladio couldn’t help but feel something special when he was around Ignis. Now, at least, he knew the advisor felt the same way.

>Next Chapter 6

#ffxv #fanfic #gladnis #gladio #ignis

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let-it-raines · 6 years ago

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Second in Command (Epilogue - Part Ten)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: It’s just fluff. Seriously. That’s all. Thank you guys for continuing to be the best! :D

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Tag list: @in-spirational @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @kristi555 @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91@branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera @emmas-storybook @superchocovian

She walks out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, her robe loosely tied around her waist, to find Killian stretched out in bed with Andy curled up on Killian’s bare chest. He must have gotten fussy while she was taking a shower for Killian to have gotten him out of his bassinet, but now he’s conked out…and so is Killian. She laughs a bit to herself before grabbing her phone off of her bedside table and snapping a few pictures. She wants to show Killian later, but she also wants to keep this for her.

Her boys, she thinks. They’re awfully cute together, and she has far more pictures of them on her phone than any sane person should. But she gave birth three weeks ago, so she’s pretty much got a free pass for being insane and dramatic all of the time. That’s what she has to remind herself several times a day. She still can’t get over how she fell apart more than once after they came home from the hospital, but it’s normal. She remembers being pregnant and thinking about how much she liked knowing Andy was safe and sound inside her. She remembers wanting to meet him but having just this…fear. Yeah, it was definitely a fear of not wanting him to leave her. And that fear manifested itself when she realized he was a week old.

She’d sobbed, absolutely had a breakdown, and her crying had made Andy lose it too. She remembers seeing Killian in between her tears looking absolutely terrified, gently bouncing Andy around while he spoke in a gentle tone to her, trying to encourage and remind her that it was okay. Everything was okay.

It had taken awhile for her to calm down, but she eventually did, trying to push down her slight embarrassment and get her breathing back to normal. So she knows that she has a free pass on being emotional, but that doesn’t mean she’s not going to feel odd about it.

Hormones are weird.

She definitely has to keep reminding herself not to beat herself up over things.

It’s more difficult than it sounds.

Being a mom is more difficult than it sounds, which is weird because it sounds incredibly hard. You read the books, you go to classes, and you talk to all of the moms you know, but nothing prepares you for it. Absolutely nothing. It’s like you think you know what you’re going to do, and then your doctor hands you an actual human being while you’re still bleeding and basically says good luck, you’ll figure it out.

She’s really hoping that she’s going to figure it out.

Her son is still breathing, he eats, she thinks all of his insides are working well, and he keeps getting bigger, which she wants to stop. Logically she knows that it’s healthy for him to grow, but he needs to stay small forever.

Okay, so maybe leaving her alone with her thoughts is not the best idea.

For a moment she thinks about crawling into bed and joining them in their nap, but she’s starving and just wants to get something to eat by herself. Maybe she’ll watch some TV too. Actually, that’s about all she does every day, but she’s pretty sure Killian has some leftover brownies in the fridge and eating those while watching TV sounds like the dream right now. So she grabs the baby monitor and heads downstairs, finding the brownies and settling down on the couch.

It’s glorious.

And it does not surprise her at all when she falls asleep, the brownies forgotten on the coffee table and Netflix not even playing a show. She never got around to picking anything out. But she’s woken by the sound of Andy’s cries through the monitor, and she practically jumps off the couch, nearly falling to the ground. She doesn’t even remember that he’s with Killian until she’s back in the bedroom and finds Killian walking around with him.

“He’s hungry,” she tells him, already loosening her robe. “He was supposed to eat, like, an hour ago, but you guys were sleeping.”

“Aye, I know. I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”

She smiles, shaking her head back and forth as she walks toward the bed and settles down, getting all of her pillows ready. “Babe, it’s fine. You’re tired. I’m tired. We’re all tired. Hand me the little munchkin before he breaks our ear drums.”

“A good idea.” Killian hands her Andy, and after a bit of situating, he latches onto her, his wails quieting. She never thought she would be so glad that someone other than Killian knows how to easily latch onto her nipple (which is really weird if she thinks about it too much), but this is one of the things she’s most thankful for. She read far too many articles about what to do if breastfeeding isn’t smooth sailing, and she’s thankful that it has been…so far. It could change any minute.

She really needs to start talking out loud more so her thoughts don’t run away with themselves.

“Did you get any sleep, love?” Killian asks her, settling down on the bed next to her and pushing her hair back behind her ears for her. It’s a hopeless cause. Her hair is insane when she lets it dry naturally.

“I fell asleep on the couch. I was going to eat brownies and watch all of the shows I haven’t caught up on yet, but I fell asleep.”

“You needed it.”

“I think I’m more tired than before,” she sighs, leaning her head back against the cushion of the headboard while she runs her finger across the top of Andy’s head, pushing back the small bit of hair like Killian just did to her. “You’re exhausting, little man. Mommy is tired.”

“What time even is it?”

She moves her hand away from Andy’s forehead to check her phone, the screen somehow brighter than it was earlier. “Six seventeen.”

“In the evening, right?”

She lets out a low whistle, trying to keep her stomach from moving while she laughs. “Wow. You were only asleep for an hour, babe. It’s the evening. Not the morning, which is good because you have work in the morning. How are you so out of it?”

He shrugs. “I wake up when you wake up.”

“And then you go back to sleep.” She can’t help but roll her eyes. “But yeah, you have to be up and leave before eight tomorrow. So you can sleep. It’s not like you can feed him yet anyways.”

“This is true.”

“But the moment we start using the bottle sometimes, you, my man, are going to become a feeding machine.”

“I figured as much.”

“Good.” She reaches her hand over to him, laying it down on his inner thigh and squeezing for just a moment. “Are you nervous about going to work tomorrow?”

“Why would I be nervous?”

“Because you haven’t left our side this entire time. It’s like you think that we’re going to disappear. Plus, I know you’ve been keeping from me how pissed people are that I didn’t do the whole step thing with Andy, and I figured you might be nervous over how people treat you. Or us, really.”

“First of all, and I can say this because we’re in private, fuck every single one of those people. That is the absolute last thing you should be worrying about right now. And secondly, I don’t want to miss something.” Killian looks over and smiles at her, his eyes crinkling with the movement, and she feels her heart flutter. Maybe. She’s not really sure. She’s never quite been able to pinpoint how exactly he makes her feel when he smiles at her like that. It’s…something. And she tries to silently tell him just how much she appreciates him supporting her every step of the way, even when he’s a pain in the ass. “I know. I’m just leaving for a couple of hours, and it’ll be nice to talk to adults besides you and our parents for a change. No offense, love.”

“None taken. I think Ruby is going to come over tomorrow anyways, so we’ll both get to talk to adults that aren’t each other or our families.” “Yeah,” Killian admits before leaning over and running his fingers along Andy’s arm, “but you get to stay with our buddy.” “True,” she sighs, leaning her head back again, “but it’s going to be fine, babe. We can’t stay cooped up inside the house forever.” “Says the woman who hasn’t traveled further than Abigail and Liam’s house.”

She scrunches up her face, knowing his point is true but not wanting to admit it. She kind of hates when he makes good points. “Anyways,” she continues, shifting her leg the slightest bit and ignoring the slight pain that comes with feeding Andy, “you’re going to go and help out, learn about the shelter, and you’re going to have a good time. And then you can come home and change all of the diapers you want.”

“You really know how to charm a man.” “I try.” She looks back down at Andy who’s happily eating away, and she trails her finger across his forehead, pushing some of his hair back again. How did it somehow manage to move?

She’s pretty much memorized his face at this point. She knows the shape of his eyes and the curve of his nose. She knows the slant of his lips and the dip in his chin. And she also knows when it changes, which is pretty often even if it’d be difficult for anyone else to notice. Every parent says their kid is beautiful, but hers really is. He has Killian’s eyes, and as much as she’d be okay with him having her eyes or eyes that resemble neither of them, she’s infinitely thankful that he has Killian’s eyes.

They’re stunningly blue, and while she knows that they could change, could morph into something else, she’s hoping that they stay the same. But what really sells her on the fact that he has Killian’s eyes is the lashes. God, he’s got better lashes than her. They’re long and thick, and she has this weird obsession with looking at them when they’re brushing against his cheeks.

Giving birth doesn’t just give you crazy hormones and a body that feels like it’s been run over by a truck. It also gives you an unnatural obsession with the hair on another human being’s eyes.

And the hair on the top of their heads. Andy has some good hair on his head, dark and black that sits flat, and she hopes that stays too. As much as she’d like him to resemble her a bit, she knows her chances for his hair to turn blonde like hers are slim. She had, like, peach fuzz as a baby if the pictures are any indication. Andy has more dark hair than most men.

It’s weird.

“You’re such a good baby,” she coos, running her finger over his arm and his hand, looking at where she and Killian clipped his nails the other day. That’s another thing you can’t prepare for. Clipping a baby’s nails is absolutely terrifying. “And you are definitely going to miss daddy tomorrow, but he needs to know that he can go to work. Yeah, he can go to work.”

“Darling, you could simply tell me this. It’s not like Andrew is going to repeat the words back to me.” “Yeah, but you might listen more this way.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Killian leans over and plants a smacking kiss on her cheek, louder than it has any right to be, before placing a gentler one on the crown of Andy’s head. “I love you both, and I’m going to go fix us some dinner, okay? Something much better than stale brownies.”

“Um, stale brownies are only some of the best food in the entire world.”

“You keep thinking that, darling.”

-/-

She’s washing her face the next morning when there’s a knock on the bathroom door, something that makes her practically jump out of her skin. Seriously. She jumps. It might not be out of her skin, but she definitely jumps.

“Holy shit,” she gasps, placing her hands over her racing heart as she looks at Ruby who is absolutely smirking. Like, she is the definition of the Cheshire Cat. It’s almost creepy. “Rubes, you can’t do that. I am not stable enough to be scared out of my mind like that.”

“I texted you several different times, and I rang the doorbell before letting myself in. I gave you every warning I could besides sending you a letter by knight and waiting for your monogrammed stamp of approval.”

She groans, protesting the slightest bit. None of that helps the fact that Emma feels as if she could take off running a marathon on the adrenaline alone. That would be one way to lose the baby weight.

She’s not even allowed to exercise yet, which is killing her. Well, not really. She still feels like she’s fought in a war or something and likes sitting in a haze of tiredness, but the lifelong athlete in her makes the fact that she can’t exercise drive her crazy. It’s probably just the fact that she’s been told she can’t do it. That makes her want to do it more.

It’s funny because that is not at all what’s happening with the fact that she’s been told she can’t have sex. She’s nowhere near ready for that.

“My phone is in the bedroom,” she tells Ruby, her heartbeat finally calming enough for her to step back to the sink and finish washing her face, actually feeling a bit refreshed. She pulls her hair up into a bun, something that is pretty much completely necessary right now, and finally turns back to Ruby. “So how is the outside world, Rubes?”

“Well,” Ruby begins, stepping into the room and propping herself up against the counter, “I’d say it’s a hell of a lot…shinier.” “What is that supposed to mean?”

Ruby holds her hand up into Emma’s eyeline, a ring suddenly in sight…a very familiar ring on her left hand. Holy shit. The world really is shinier.

“You’re engaged,” she shrieks, taking Ruby’s hand in hers and admiring the ring. “Oh my goodness, congratulations.” She wraps Ruby up in a hug, holding her as tightly as she can while rubbing her hand up and down her back. “I am so, so freaking happy for you. You have to tell me everything, okay? I want to hear it all.”

“Thank you, Ems,” Ruby sighs, pulling back and placing her hands on Emma’s shoulders. “I will tell you absolutely everything, but only if you let me hold the chunk monster while I do.”

“You have some interesting names for my family.”

“It’s a gift.”

“And it’s a deal.”

So Ruby tells her all about the engagement, sitting in she and Killian’s bed while holding Andy, who is sleeping away even as Ruby talks. He doesn’t sleep through the night, but he sleeps through the loudest person she knows telling the story of how Graham took her to Ireland last weekend and proposed. It figures. Ruby’s always found ways to just make everything work for her, even if there’s been a few disasters along the way. Honestly, though, the quiet baby thing is definitely the biggest miracle of all of Ruby’s works.

“I mean, I swore I’d never do this after I got engaged and was bombarded with questions when I was still kind of in a haze, but have you thought about the wedding?”

“Small,” she answers immediately, twisting her body toward Emma. “I want small. Or we want small. I mean, you know I don’t have a lot of family and just my small group of friends, and Graham’s family is all high society with all of those people who he knows but doesn’t really know. But he doesn’t want something fancy either. I’m kind of thinking we go somewhere cool, bring our families and favorite friends.” She nudges Emma’s foot with hers. “And then we just have a party. And obviously I wear a fantastic dress.” “Obviously,” Emma laughs, leaning over to the side and picking up the remote for the television, turning it on and flipping through the channels, “but that sounds perfect for you guys, and I absolutely cannot wait for this.” “Well, you’re going to have to because I have no idea when it’s going to be. I’m not in any rush either. I’m excited, you know, but we’re still just us. Getting married only changes a little.”

“True. It’s really because you can’t decide where in the world you want to get married though, right?”

“You know me far too well, Ems,” Ruby sighs. “Oooh, let’s watch The Bodyguard. I’ve heard it’s good.”

“That’s season two that’s on.”

“We’ll figure things out.” “That is so not how these things work. You have to watch from the beginning.” “I don’t think you do.” “You definitely do.” “Debatable.” “It’s really not. You miss so much stuff. You have to watch from the beginning. Oh my God, Rubes. Have you not been watching shows from the beginning this entire time?”

Ruby giggles beside her, covering her mouth with her hand while her eyebrows move across her forehead. “Why are you acting like I’ve just insulted your kid?”

“Because this is insane, and I’m seriously rethinking our friendship.” “Guess you don’t get to come to the wedding then, so I’ll make it somewhere you really like.”

“You’re evil.” “You’re crazy.” “Yeah, whatever.”

Because she absolutely refuses to watch a show starting on season two, she finds season one, and they start to watch it while Ruby’s over. Indy jumps up into bed with them, sniffing at Ruby before moving onto to Andy. She was a bit nervous over having a newborn and a dog in the same place, but it’s gone well, the two of them seeming to like each other. Though, she’s not really sure how Andy feels about a big furry creature. He’s probably extremely confused. She would be too if she had no idea what a dog is.

But it’s nice to have Ruby over where it’s just them. Her house has basically been a revolving door of multiple people bombarding them at once and all talking about the baby, and as much as they’re all trying to help, it’s overwhelming. This is much better. It’s relaxing, it’s entertaining, and she’s really appreciative of being able to talk about something other than how much her son is going to the bathroom.

Though she does just want to talk about him all of the time. It’s a weird sensation, but she’s watching herself to make sure she doesn’t overwhelm anyone. She and Killian can just be the weird ones who talk to each other about how cute their kid is.

Killian knows a woman who had a baby and told everyone that their kid farted all of the time, but that they were cute farts. If she ever gets to that point, she kind of hopes that she is committed to whatever crazy institution there is for parents who are weirdly obsessed with their kids.

Ruby can’t stay forever, having to go help Granny out at the restaurant before the late lunch rush, and after she leaves, it’s just Emma and Andy who has decided that since Ruby isn’t around, he’s just not going to sleep. He’s simply going to stare up at Emma for the rest of the day…or his life. She’s not sure.

So maybe she’s not the only one who’s weird.

At least he’s calm. And not crying. She really appreciates the not crying thing, but she knows it can start any minute. It’s kind of like not knowing when a land mine is going to go off.

Did she really just compare her child to a land mine? It’s the being left alone to her thoughts thing, isn’t it?

She puts Andy down in his bassinet before stretching out her limbs, giving them some relief from basically always being folded in one way. It feels good, relaxing, and even though she knows she’s not supposed to exercise, she can pace around the room and stretch the smallest bit while she watches the news. It’s not something she usually does, not wanting to see anything about herself on there, especially with how irrationally pissed people were over her not presenting Andy to the world, but sometimes she likes to watch when Killian is out doing an engagement so she can see a bit about his day when he’s not available to talk.

It’s kind of like some kind of creepy stalkerish way to check up on her husband, but honestly, it’s not the weirdest thing in the world. Plus, it’s kind of fun to see him in action.

And she’s ridiculously proud of him, so there’s that.

She’s also ridiculously attracted to his face…and the rest of him, so there’s that too.

Sure enough, after watching it for a few minutes, they show a clip of Killian at the homeless shelter. He’s got an apron on and is chopping up something while animatedly talking to the man next to him. She’s not really sure who he is or how Killian got roped into cooking today. He probably offered.

No, he definitely offered. She just knows.

“Look, baby,” she sighs to Andy as she moves back over to him and picks him up, bringing him over to the television, “there’s daddy. Yeah, there he is.” She knows that he’s not really recognizing anything or understanding that his dad is on TV, but she likes to think it helps him, that it soothes him.

It soothes her.

When Killian’s segment is over, she realizes that she should probably leave the bedroom at some point today other than to just let Indy outside, so she takes her new sidekick downstairs, fixing herself something to eat before settling down in the living room. So it’s not really that different than staying up in the bedroom, but it’s a change of pace, a change of room. Plus, the comfortable recliner is down here, and it’s always been one of her favorite places to sit.

Instead of watching TV like she’s been doing all day, she watches her son. She watches the way his lips open and close and the way he resembles Killian in even that way. It’s ridiculous. He’s even got dimples. If he starts moving his brows all of the time, she really isn’t going to know what to do.

She’s so in love with him that it’s ridiculous.

Oh, and she likes the way he smells. Every thought she has makes her feel like she should be in that institution, but she really doesn’t care. The baby farts thing is not cute, but the way her baby smells is. It’s weird, and she never understood people who said things like that, but she loves the smell of him and the softness of his skin. Seriously, it’s ridiculously soft, and she could run her fingers over it forever. She could mess with the smallness of his toes and fingers forever.

“You are my favorite person,” she tells him as he makes the smallest little noises, likely trying to communicate something with her. “Yeah, baby. You are my favorite person, and I love you so very much. Don’t tell daddy though. I think he might not like that you’re my favorite person, which is just ridiculous because I know for a fact that you’re also daddy’s favorite person. He loved me for eight years, and then he met you and all of the sudden, I’m upstaged. But it’s okay. I’ll be upstaged by you any day.”

His eyes open and close over and over again, revealing the blue that she could stare at all day long. She does stare at it all day long. His eyes are beautiful, and she loves them. She can’t stop thinking about how much she loves his eyes.

Sometimes she thinks about her parents, how this was once them with her, and she has a difficult time understanding. Or, well, comprehending. She has a difficult time comprehending. Her parents love her. She doesn’t doubt that at all, but she can’t really imagine them loving her quite this much.

“Should we go for a walk now, bud?” she asks Andy, tickling his stomach the slightest bit. “Or do we want to do tummy time? You didn’t like that yesterday, but we’ve got to do it. You could always sleep, and we could make daddy do it with you. Yeah? We can just leave him to all of the not fun stuff. He’s weird, and he likes it.”

Andy obviously doesn’t respond to her, but she does get up out of the chair and walk with him up to his nursery so she can change his diaper and his clothes, putting him in a onesie that makes it look like he has on jeans and a plaid shirt. It’s so dumb, but she likes it. And she thinks she’s going to take him out on a walk, let him fall asleep in the stroller while she gets some fresh air with the dog.

Maybe she’ll stop by and see if Abigail’s home too. She had the taste of adult interaction, and she kind of wants more of it. So after getting him situated and whistling for Indy to come with them, she wanders outside of the apartment and into the crisp October air.

When the hell did it get to be October? How did that happen? Just last week was Killian’s birthday, wasn’t it? It had to have been. There’s no way it was an entire month ago. But it apparently was, and the heat of summer has faded away into the comfortableness of October, the temperatures evening out and the leaves beginning to change and morph into brighter, warmer colors.

Oh shit. It’s her birthday on Saturday. She’d been so preoccupied thinking about how that’s when Andy’s four weeks old that she completely forgot her own birthday. She’s never liked the day that much, but she should probably know when it is. Or maybe not. She’s turning twenty nine and that’s far too close to thirty for her liking. She likes being twenty eight.

It’s a good age.

Yeah, the next kid needs to be born in February or something. She won’t be heavily pregnant during the summer, and it won’t be in between all of the big family events. They’ve got to plan better.

Her vagina still hurts too much for her to be thinking about the next kid. That needs to stop.

After walking in the gardens for long enough, Indy having gotten to spend enough time outside that her bursts of energy have calmed down, she makes her way over to Abigail’s and knocks on the front door before ringing the bell. It only takes a moment before the door is opened by Liam who has two children hanging onto his ankles.

So fun times then.

“Hello, darling,” Liam greets, grunting the slightest bit as Lizzie and Alex scream out her name in greeting, “to what do I owe the pleasure of getting to see you and your brood of monsters?” She raises a brow, not sure what exactly he means by her brood of monsters until he points down to his kids. “We’re monsters today because Mummy is off at work. Your monsters seem much calmer.” “One of my monsters is asleep,” she says quietly, continuing to move the stroller back and forth, “but I was wondering if we could come sit with you all even if Abigail is gone.” “Ah, I’ve always known you only liked me because of Abigail.” “Correction. I only liked you because I love your brother. And now your wife is my best friend, but you do okay.” “Well, it’s all I ask,” Liam asks, backing up from the door with slow steps. “You’re all welcome to come in, and join the madhouse.”

So she does, wandering in after Liam and his little monsters. She has no idea how he’s walking with them attached to him like that, but she has to stifle her laugh every time he picks up his pace and Alex relaxes his body to make himself be dead weight, stopping Liam in his tracks. It’s hysterical, especially when Indy tries to nip after their toes and they try to climb further up Liam’s legs.

She’s led into their living room, toys scattered absolutely everywhere, and she gets a weird glimpse into their future. Their house will be an absolute disaster, and Killian will be in the corner of a room somewhere having a meltdown over everything not being clean.

Yeah, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

“So, Emma, how are you? Are you feeling better yet also feeling like you’re going a little crazy?”

“Exactly,” she sighs, sitting down on the corner of the couch and putting Andy next to her. “I can’t describe it, but you did pretty much.” “Alex, Lizzie,” Liam sighs, “go play with the dog for a minute, but be gentle.” Amazingly, they both release Liam’s legs and move to play with Indy. She’s happy to let them pet her, probably loving all of the attention, and she’s somehow managed to provide entertainment for both her dog and her nieces and nephews. “Wow, I did not expect that to work. Maybe we should get a dog.”

“I mean, I don’t think getting a puppy to distract you from your kids is your best idea. It’s basically like having an extra baby. But they are so dang cute. And fluffy.”

“This is a good point. We’ll just let your dog also be our dog.”

“I think she’d like that.” Her foot keeps moving the stroller back and forth, knowing that it’ll keep Andy asleep. “So where’s Abi today?”

“Visiting a few schools. I think she should be back soon, probably about the same time that these two have to take their naps. I’m pretty sure she timed it that way.” “Well, you know Abigail. She’s very conniving.”

“Exactly. I always have to be on my toes.”

She and Liam talk for a little while longer while Lizzie and Alex entertain themselves with their toys and Indy. Every now and then they get distracted and climb all over her lap, telling her all about Alex’s fifth birthday last week that she missed. She hates that she missed it, felt terrible about it, but she really wasn’t feeling up to leaving the house then. So she definitely doesn’t mind listening to them both talk about the dinosaur cake Alex had and just how yummy it was.

She kind of wonders if there’s still some of the dinosaur cake left.

“What kind of cake should I have for my birthday, guys?” she asks them, readjusting Lizzie on her knee. “I like the dinosaur, but I feel like I need my own cake.” “Peppa Pig,” Lizzie suggests. “It can be strawberry because she’s pink.”

Her words are broken, strawberry not coming out fully, but Emma gets the gist. She can pretty much interpret toddler speak like a pro now.

“Yeah? I do like Peppa.”

“I like dogs,” Alex tells her while he continues to scratch behind Indy’s ears. “You should get a cake in the shape of a dog.”

“Yeah, but then how will Indy feel about that?”

“Probably good if you let her eat some? Do dogs like cake?”

“No, they don’t,” Liam adds in from his spot, still cradling his nephew in his arms.

“They should like cake. It tastes good, and it gives you lots of energy.” Alex lays out on the ground, stretching out his limbs. “I like cake. It’s what we should have for dinner, Daddy.”

“Why don’t you ask Mummy about that, bud?”

“Because she’ll say no, and I want cake.”

“You can have cake at my birthday on Saturday,” she tells Alex, trying to stop the meltdown before it happens. She doesn’t even know if they’re doing anything, if she’s going to feel like doing anything, but now she knows she’s going to have to have cake. Maybe it’ll be in the shape of Peppa Pig or a dog…or maybe it’ll just be a regular cake. She could really go for one right now. “It tastes better if you wait for it, you know?”

Lizzie sighs next to her. “I like cake, Emmy.”

“Yeah, baby, me too.”

She leaves when Andy begins to get fussy, figuring she doesn’t want to weigh Liam down with any other screaming kids, so she says her goodbyes, grabs her kid, and whistles for her dog to come so that they can make their way home.

-/-

“I am so, so sorry for running late,” Killian tells her when he rushes in the door several hours after she got home. She’s already had dinner, put Andy down to sleep for what she hopes is a few hours, and she was wondering what exactly was taking Killian so long when she already saw him near the end of his engagement when she checked the news again when she got home. “I got caught up talking to some of the volunteers there and then somehow was roped into helping for a bit longer.” He leans down and presses a quick kiss against her forehead. “I’m guessing you already ate.”

“I did,” she tells him, patting the seat on the couch next to her until he sits down, immediately unbuttoning a few more buttons on his shirt and shredding his jacket. “There’s some leftover pasta if you want it.”

“I might later,” he tells her, twisting toward her and placing his hand on her cheek until she turns to him so that he can brush his lips over hers. “How was your day? Is Andy already asleep? Did he have a good day? Did you?”

“Breathe,” she laughs, leaning back against the couch and propping her feet up on the ottoman. “Yes, he’s asleep. You can spend time with him when he inevitably wakes up, and he and I both had a good day. I missed you, though. Replaced you with your brother for a little while.” “Yeah, I’m going to need a little more context to that particular sentence.”

“I mean, obviously I meant that I left you for your brother for a few hours. You know, I have always thought that his graying hair is so much sexier than yours.” Killian chuckles next to her before grabbing her knee and squeezing, his fingers tapping over her leggings. “You’re a regular comedian.” “I don’t know how many times we have to go over this without you constantly bringing it up. I obviously am one.”

“Obviously,” he agrees. “I’m glad you had a good day. Mine was good too. I wasn’t harassed by the media that was there since I know you’re going to ask, and everyone working with me at the shelter was top notch. They had me cooking.” “That’s risky by them.” “I am an excellent cook, and you know it.”

“Sure, Jan.” “You’ve had too much time on the internet lately.”

“Please, that joke has been around for years. And you understood it, so obviously you have too.”

“I’m just a big Brady Bunch fan.” “Liar.”

Killian sits with her for a little longer, catching her up on the rest of his day while she does the same. She knew that they’d spent an inordinate amount of time together lately, but she didn’t really realize it until Killian went out and did something without her so that they can actually talk about their days…without having experienced them with each other. It seems far too codependent for her taste, and it’s just one of those things where she has to remind herself that things are different right now. They won’t always be.

She won’t always be a new mom, and Killian won’t always be far too nervous about…everything. The man would likely take down an entire military force to protect she and Andy without question, but he also worries and overthinks things.

A lot.

It’s getting better though, Killian gaining confidence as a dad every day, and while she’s sure that he did want to come home to them today, she knows that when he said he was excited about getting to talk to other adults, he meant it. Even though she stayed home and just walked to Liam’s, she got to do the same.

And it was glorious.

While Killian eats some of the leftover pasta she mentioned, they watch some TV, trying to soak up all of the time that they can with Andy asleep, but as she knows, that doesn’t last long. Killian doesn’t even finish half of his bowl before he’s heading upstairs, telling her to relax, and coming back down twenty minutes later with Andy in his arms.

“Is he hungry?”

“I don’t think so, love,” Killian tells her, settling down on the sofa again. “I just changed him, and he seems to be fine. I’m sure he’ll let us know though.”

“That is the truest statement you’ve ever said.” She gets up from the couch, her feet sliding a bit in her socks. “I’m going to go feed Indy before I forget and she tackles one of us.”

She lets Killian do pretty much everything besides feeding Andy, letting him spend time with him since she knows that’s what he’s itching to do. It’s nice after being the only one taking care of him all day, and she takes the time to call her parents, catching up with them on one of their breaks from work. The pub has apparently been extraordinarily busy lately, and while they really have visited nearly every other day, she can tell just how stressed out her parents are from everything. Even Will said that her mom nearly snapped at a patron the other day, and it made him almost drop his tray of drinks. But they seem to be okay today. Busy, but okay.

Getting Andy ready to go to bed takes longer than she thought it would. They attempt a bath in the plastic tub for the first time, and he absolutely hates it. Like a lot. He hates it a lot. So instead of forcing the issue today, they go back to a sponge bath, change his clothes, feed him, change his diaper again, and continuously try to stop the crying.

It’s a lot of crying.

She might cry.

But eventually Killian manages to get him to sleep, whispering soft words and telling him all about his day like he did to Emma earlier. It’s just in a much more soothing way, one that thankfully makes Andy fall asleep at about the same time that Emma is letting herself crawl into bed, the day finally taking its toll on her. Killian joins her a few minutes later after he’s changed out of his suit and gone through his nighttime routine, the one she did for herself while letting him deal with all of the hysteria.

Marriage is an equal partnership or whatever. Isn’t that how the saying goes? She’s not really sure. She’s exhausted, but she likes to think that she and Killian are pretty equal in things. She kind of feels like she’s been the one putting in the hard yards lately, but it’s not like Killian can give birth or breastfeed.

But what if he could?

Nope. She’s not going there. She obviously just needs to go to sleep.

She turns on her side and wraps her arms around her pillow. She’s kicking around, trying to find the pillow she likes to keep between her thighs, when she feels Killian move next to her and gently nudge his leg in between hers while his arm rests on her waist, the weight comfortable. She’s finally content, even when he nudges her head over for his arm, and she’s convinced that laying like this has never felt this comfortable.

Her pillow is kind of missed though. She’ll get it later when Killian inevitably moves back to his side of the bed in the middle of the night.

She feels his lips and his scruff against her shoulder before he moves back and lays his head against his own pillow. They’re silent, just the sounds of their breathing and the ceiling fan above the bed filing the room, and she’s nearly asleep, the lids of her eyes heavy, when all of the sudden Killian is moving off of the bed. He moves in such a quick motion that he nearly knees her, and she has no idea what’s going on until he’s standing over Andy’s bassinet and staring down at him.

“What in the world are you doing?” “It was too quiet,” he whispers, nearly reaching down and touching Andy until he pulls back, seemingly stopping himself before he gets rid of the quiet moment. “I don’t know why. I just…I had to check. I know we want him to be quiet after the past two hours, but it was far too quiet.” “You’re crazy,” she says flatly, truly meaning it. “We were literally just about to go to bed, and you almost stopped the quiet we worked so hard for.” “I had to make sure.” He looks at Andy once more before slowly making his way back to bed and settling down under the covers on his side of the bed. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

She huffs, flipping over onto her back and reaching down to put her pillow between her legs herself. He’s crazy. He really is, but she’s not sure she can say anything. She might be just as crazy.

She just doesn’t wake Killian up for those crazy reasons.

Most of the time.

Okay, so she definitely wakes him up far too often just because she has a crazy thought. Even before Andy.

“I really am glad they kept me so busy today because I missed you two like something mad when I was left idle. I felt absolutely ridiculous, but I did. I really did.” “That’s because you’re a good dad and a good husband. Maybe a little crazy, but good overall.” “Thanks,” he laughs, twisting his head. “I agree with all of that.” “Both conceited and humble all at once.” “I’m a man of many talents.” “That you are,” she sighs, leaning over and quickly kissing him, forever appreciating the way that his lips feel against hers. “I love you, but I’m going to sleep, okay? I am exhausted.” “I love you too. I’ll see you in about three hours when he wakes up.” “Yep. See you in about three hours.”

#second in command #cs fic #cs ff

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ofcacthuxandkylosaur · 6 years ago

Note

Are there any trans Kylo fics out there? I feel as if it's all only trans hux this or feminized hux that...

I think there is indeed more trans Hux than trans Kylo out there, but I still managed to find some. Beware that I haven’t read most of the fics and therefore cannot say anything about their content. I also recommend of course you read the autor’s warnings;)

Trans Kylo Art

https://croatomunchi.tumblr.com/post/142969291522/would-u-ever-draw-like-hux-and-trans-kylo - croatomunchi

http://artllama.tumblr.com/post/146236116396/i-did-a-transition-log-because-i-cant-not-spend - artllama

http://toiek.tumblr.com/post/141289851114/i-love-trans-kylo - toiek

http://rip-space-birdie.tumblr.com/post/141067487245/kylo-ren-is-trans-pass-it-on - rip-space-birdie

http://opens-up-4-nobody.tumblr.com/post/153044170134/stutter-iplier - opens-up-4-nobody

http://opens-up-4-nobody.tumblr.com/post/147354462721/nice - opens-up-4-nobody

http://angerydj.tumblr.com/post/169121106275 - angerydj

http://corvosfursona.tumblr.com/post/137737245113/they-fixed-him-up-but-hes-conked-and-phasma - corvosfursona

http://kiiiloren.tumblr.com/post/137138625403/coming-to-u-live-tiny-trans-padawan-ben-solo - kiiiloren

+ There is also a blog whose name is Trans!Kylo

Trans Kylo headcanons/ideas

http://bygoneboy.tumblr.com/post/148311042452/hi-u-should-talk-abt-ur-trans-kylo-headcanons - bygoneboy

http://nbnightwing.tumblr.com/post/136272896831/anyway-ive-been-thinking-a-lot-about-trans-guy - nbnightwing

http://kremaclassii.tumblr.com/post/137459014170/whispers-more-trans-kylo-head-canons - kremaclassii

http://kiiiloren.tumblr.com/post/138435517778/ive-been-thinking-about-trans-hux-and-kylo + http://kiiiloren.tumblr.com/post/137141605853/since-leia-is-force-sensitive-imagine-her-being - kiiiloren

http://lilstarkiller.tumblr.com/post/141230802426/alright-alright-i-keep-thinking-weve-got-trans - lilstarkiller

http://generallyhorribleatlife.tumblr.com/tagged/trans%21kylo - generallyhorribleatlife

Trans Kylo Fics

“Almond” - angry_android || Kylo likes to hang out at his local Starbucks and brood. Hux works there part-time while going to community college. Because of someone else’s sloppy handwriting, Hux accidentally calls out Kylo’s name as “Kylie,” and there is fallout. The fallout might include dating.

“pocketknife” - angry_android || There’s a reason Kylo wears a crop top. Hux understands.

“Casanova, Fuck Me Over” - Anonymous || With another kiss, Hux glances up. “You promise try and keep your limbs to yourself?” Ren snorts. “I will try my best,” he says, placing his hands on the sheets, “If you promise to stick your face between my thighs sometime soon.”

“Tarine Tea and Lambro Shark” - armitageren || The First Order celebrates a recent victory on a luxurious planet and it’s the perfect setting for Kylo Ren and Armitage Hux’s first date. Hux struggles to survive the date with his anxiety putting him on edge because Ren doesn’t know he’s trans and he isn’t sure what that means for their future.

“all the noises (from your hateful little mouth)” - bloomthefox || In which Kylo whines and puts off his feelings, Phasma calls it like she sees it, and Hux is a stone cold mystery. Or, the defense attorney AU that literally nobody asked for.

“care and control” - cracktheglasses (cormallen) || It’s a wide strip of dark brown leather, soft, already a bit worn at the edges, snapped shut over Ben’s wrist. It means Ben wants him. Ben needs him. He may not always be able to say it, but he means it every time he puts the cuff on, every time he puts himself into Hux’s care – I’m yours.

“juxtaposition” - cracktheglasses (cormallen) || He hopes Hux makes it hurt. Hopes Hux is as mean and arrogant and smart here as he is everywhere else, the way Kylo tries to be.

“Changed” - Davechicken || Kylo was sure from a young age that he wasn’t female. It’s not until he leaves home that he finds people who agree.

“Pushed” - Davechicken || Hux has to push his boy a little, to get him through the discomfort. Kylo always appreciates it after.

“Control” - DoctorNinjaSpy || Patience is Armitage’s most valued virtue. Sometimes, however, he falters.

“special delivery” - gonnapop || Hux had not intended to be present for this messy process. Rather, he’d imagined returning after his shift and being handed a clean, swaddled baby. But there was nothing for it now.He rolled up his sleeves.

“Heel, Beg, Speak” - JulieCox || Emperor Hux has a new pet, and enjoys pushing him around. Kylo has secrets, and enjoys keeping them to his own damn self. But they won’t stay secrets for long.

“the Panty fic” - kyloskummies || Kylo and Hux are roommates. Kylo is trans and wears panties. It’s a hot day and the AC is broken. Y'all know where it goes from there.

“Bad Poet and Good Artist” - lovewashisname || Hux has moved schools before. He’s sure this time won’t be any different. He’ll keep to himself, make a few acquaintances, and put up with his father the best he can. But not even an hour into his first day and he’s shattered his phone, walked into a gorgeous boy, and had a very, very awkward conversation with said gorgeous boy. In other words, Hux meets the incredibly sad Ben Solo, and maybe he doesn’t want to leave this school so soon.

“Bad Poetry on Starlit Rooftops” - lovewashisname || Everywhere Kylo looks, high school is portrayed as either the best place you’ll ever be, or a shithole that will ruin four years of your life. For Kylo, it’s neither. High school has been a place to hide from his own body, and to get into fights every once in a while. So in one year, none of that will change, he thinks. How wrong could he be? told from Kylo’s point of view

“A Real Boy” - MosImagination || Ben solo is a transmale junior, he has a crush on a senior named Hux. Ben is too afraid to show off his real self, but Hux quickly accepts him. And loves him.

“Birth of a dream” - MosImagination || Ben solo is a transmale, hux has always wanted a child, Ben gives his body to have their child.

“Expectations” - MosImagination || Ben solo didn’t know what to expect coming home on Valentines Day.

“Shark in the Water” - SeraphicVictory || Kylo Ren was absolutely the best sailor there ever was. Or that’s what he liked people to believe anyway. In truth, he was no better than any other man at the mercy of the sea. With one fatal mistake, he and his ship were destroyed in a terrible storm, and Kylo was certain he would fall to the watery grave that most sailors met at the end. But then he wakes up to a handsome, red-headed man. His savior: The Mershark called ‘Hux’.

“Someone to come home to” - ShinigamiKnox || Hux is the supportive boyfriend and helps Kylo deal with his dysphoria. It was supposed to be a more serious piece of work, but I could not stop laughing at the infamous Ren quote. I’m so sorry.

“A morning at the gym” - SidMjkGc || Just another kind of workout.

“This Asshole” - twinkyatta || Hux goes to a coffee shop every day, but there’s a new barista, and holy fuck does he hate him.

+ Trans Female Kylo fic

“Fate” - MosImagination || It was fate that they met. A beautiful transfemale Kylo ren. A handsome transmale Hux.

Trans Kylo series (of fics)

“The Monsters We Keep” - AriMarris || Description: “The Monsters We Keep” is the story of Hux and Kylo, who fall in love and marry young and make many mistakes. Basically, the films rewritten through Kylo’s eyes with drastic changes. With extra one-shots thrown in the mix for fun.

“Bastards and Broken Things” - Bipolar_Armitage_Hux, kohoutek || No Description –> Resume of first work: A story of Armitage Hux’s childhood from the Bastards and Broken Things AU / Series.

“Caged by Monsters” (one work for now) - Bipolar_Armitage_Hux, kohoutek || No Description –> Resume of first work: An introduction to the psychiatric ward AU - this is written by an actually neurodivergent person and thus there is a strong attempt to make it not remotely ableist. The “bad guys” in this are the abusive doctors and an ableist system. Hux meets Kylo Ren for the first time, or rather the other sees him in a therapy session with Dr. Brendol Hux and becomes fascinated by him.

“The Tired Raptor” - Kylux_TRASH || Description: “Hollywood, 1939. Amidst the glitz and the glitter of a bustling young movie talent at the height of its golden age, the Hollywood Tower Hotel was a star in its own right. A beacon for the show business elite. Now, something is about to happen that will change all that”Something did happen to change that. It happened, on October 31st, 1939, Hollywood California. Kayla-Rose and her male escort, Mr. Hux were riding in the elevator when they entered into a world unknown. They entered The Twilight Zone.

“when the lights are low” - transkylo (captainandor) || No Description –> Resume of first work: “Do your colleagues know how fucking possessive you are?” Kylo asks, canting his hips back, pressing into Hux’s touch as far as he can.Hux grins. “Does your mother know that you sleep with her political rivals?” Kylo’s laugh is breathy and uneven. “I don’t make a habit of it.”

+ Trans Female Kylo series (of fic)

“She’s Just a Girl and She’s on Fire” - Kylo Hux (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson) || No Description –> Resume of first work: Hux and Phasma have been sent to a fundraiser for The First Order. Their uniforms have been changed for a smart military uniform and a glamorous ball gown. Everyone that should be here is – except for one person.Kylo Ren is absent, still on another planet, having surgery. She was supposed to be here, supposed to be on security detail for the night; Hux lost hope of seeing his girlfriend for the first time in months when he saw two Knights of Ren circling the room.

“from bby Finn to teenage heartthrob + Hux (one work for now) - orphan_account || No Description –> Resume of first work: Mostly, Phasma loves her job. But sometimes, just sometimes, she really hates it. Meanwhile, Hux has a slight problem, and her name is Kylo Ren.

#here you go #hope it helps #this is of course a non exaustive list #tbh i usually do not do fic rec/lists but i had time and i didn't have it in my aus too...#if you spot any mistake don't hesitate to tell me:)#kyux #au #trans kylo au

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fallen029 · 7 years ago

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Remember Me: Twists and Turns.4

Previous Chapter

Over at her aunt's house, Kai and Marin set to work on getting the living room of the small apartment ready for their night spent in it. That involved pillows and blankets and stuffed animals as well as shoving the table and couch out of the way to make even more room. Usually they would make a fort as well, but Kai was too busy to work out the logistics, he claimed, because he had to get to work on the cube.

"Ravan could arrive at any minute," he explained to Lisanna over their dinner of rice and weenies. "I have to finish it as soon as possible!"

"Is being a...bow boy," Lisanna said with a bit of a frown at the last part, "really that bad?"

"You have no idea," he insisted. "It's terrible. I'd rather listen to Erza go on and on about the importance of magic or reading and writing or even herself. Anything, but that."

Marin giggled into her palm as they sat around the tiny kitchen table. "Erza does talk a lot."

"More than me," Kai added.

"I," Lisanna sighed as she mostly made sure Ajax ate more food than he played with, "wouldn't go that far."

Ajax went to bed not soon after dinner and Lisanna informed the two of them that, like always, they could stay up as late as they wanted, but to not be too loud, okay? So that they didn't wake the toddler.

This really only meant they'd stay up for about an hour or so longer though as both Kai and Marin were strong believers in the power of sleep. So by eight, they were both snuggled down into their respective sides of the huge pallet they'd made, Kai with a flashlight as he flipped through the notes Lucy had left him after, once more, he'd ruined the progress he was making on his cube.

Then, with a sheepish grin, he tumbled over the pillows, stuffed animals, and blankets to land beside his best friend and hand the sheet of paper over to her to read aloud to him. It was only once he was snuggly in his spot once more than she began to read it to him though, going over how to set his cube properly before the white cross portion.

Marin fell asleep not soon after that though, leaving Kai to try and figure things out on his own. He felt it in his stomach. This unshakable sensation of just being right and victorious and it was going to happen. He was going to solve the cube. And Ravan was going to lose. Bow boy? No way. Not Kai. Never Kai again! Then he was going to go on his first job with Ravan and he was going to bring home lots of jewels and treat Marin, Erza, and Mrs. Master to dinner for being so great to him while he was still a boy. 'cause after his job he was going to be a man.

He was sure Elfman would agree.

This puzzle cube was his gateway to manhood and he could feel in his chest that it was getting solved that night!

Err, his stomach.

Err, it wasn't feeling so great after all.

Uh, actually, the feeling had nothing to do with the cube. He just had to go to the bathroom.

It was only after he was done in there though and heading back to the living room that he heard a noise from the front door. For some reason this triggered Kai's flight or fight response and, as it was turning out, he was flight all the way. Rushing then, he dove into his part of the pallet and pulled the blankets tight up around his head, holding his breath.

There wasn't anything to be afraid of though. It was only Bickslow, keying into the house hardly even late at all, really. Still, Kai stayed hidden, feigning sleep. It wasn't like he was afraid of Bickslow or anything though.

"Damn it!"

Or maybe only a little.

The seith hadn't been expecting the layout to be so altered in the living room and stumbled over the new position of the coffee table. When he realized what had happened, he only grumbled as his babies that floated around snickered and flickered their green light in the darkness.

This was enough to summon Lisanna, apparently, from the bedroom where she came out of just to tell him that he was being too loud which got her griped back at and wow, Kai sure was glad he was staying super quiet.

If Ravan and Haven's fights had taught him anything (admittedly, not much), it was that being an innocent bystander was never a good thing.

Oddly enough, neither was taking sides…

"You're telling me to be quiet and to not wake them up when you telling me that is gonna be what wakes them up," Bickslow complained to his wife as, with more care then, he stepped through the maze of bedding strewn across his living room floor. "Why are they here anyways?"

"Why are they ever here? And I could have told you that they were if I could ever find you-"

"I was out training."

"You were not."

"What do you mean? Huh? I wasn't? How do you know?"

"You were out drinking again."

"Prove it."

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"You fucking reek, Bickslow. Plus, Ever told me that you and Elf-"

"I was with your brother then, so see? What's the big deal?"

"I'm not saying it is a big deal," she defended. "I just said you were, then you lied and said you were training-"

"That was not the order of events."

"Either way, you lied. So what difference does it make?"

He was beat.

So he quit playing.

"Lissy, I can't do this right now. I'm going to bed."

"Not smelling like that you're not."

"Whatever." And he had to step over the kids again as he headed over to where they'd shoved the couch. Plopping down on it still in his full getup, all his dolls slowly fell to his chest. "I'll go to couch then."

And she made a face at him in the darkness, which he returned in the soft green glow of his dolls, before she went off, away from him, back to the bedroom. Alone.

Kai wasn't sure what all else went on though, as he hid beneath the covers, 'cause he kind of sorta conked out after a minute or so and it was probably for the best, honestly. Not only did he not care to hear the argument, he also was pretty likely to giggle at some point and reveal himself.

He just couldn't help it.

Mr. Bickslow was super funny to him.

And pretty creepy at times too. When he awoke in the middle of the night to the man snoring on the couch, with his mask off, the moonlight allowed Kai to see the man's face tattoo and the fact his tongue was dangling out of his mouth also let him see his guild marking and, fine, Kai was no looker, but dang the man looked downright bizarre.

The next morning when Marin shook Kai awake, it was to find that the couch was no longer occupied and the house was abuzz. There was music playing and the sound of Ajax's laughter as well as the sound of Bickslow's wooden babies nonsensically singing along. They weren't alone in this though as, frequently, Bickslow would loudly belt out a stanza or two and it was the way it always was again, the night before forgotten.

Kai did notice one thing though.

"Where'd Lisanna go?" he asked as, in the kitchen, he found Bickslow making everyone breakfast.

"Eh?" Snickering at the question, the seith simply said, "Away from here. For a bit. And then she'll be back. For a bit. Then away again. Yeah? Like us all."

This made Marin frown some, but Kai nodded because it was true. You went away and came back. Then you go away again. Ebb and flow.

Like waves.

And he really liked waves.

After breakfast, Bickslow showered and got Ajax ready while Marin and Kai cleaned up the mess they'd made of the living room. Err, well, Marin took to trying her hardest (folding blankets was harder than it looked) while Kai sat around and toyed with his cube some more, but she knew that if the roles were reversed and there was a chance she was gonna have to play arrow boy for Ravan, he'd do anything he could to stop that from happening to her.

"What you got there, kid?"

"What you got?" five voices repeated. "What you got?"

Kai glanced up at Bickslow as he came over before saying simply, "A puzzle cube. But I can't be bothered by you right now! I have to focus."

"Focus, huh?"

"Yeah," he repeated as his eyes went back to his cube. "Focus."

He felt the man's heavy gaze for a long few moments before, with a bit of a sigh, Bickslow turned away from him and that was that.

Kai went with Marin back home to her house, following along the silly acting Bickslow who was entertaining his equally as silly son. Marin just followed along, not seeming too giddy or too focused on anything, honestly.

The walk, at least, was quick.

"Marin," Haven greeted, sort of, when they came into the living room to find her having just arrived back from her training with Laxus it seemed. "Kai. ...Bickslow. You guys should see the new spell I learned."

"I really don't want to," Kai told her as Marin, just from the thought, fled to the kitchen. It was in there that she found her father glancing over the paper at the table and her mother making him his late breakfast. Surprisingly though, Lisanna was there as well, at the table.

"Daddy!" Marin rushed right over, practically forcing the man to let her sit in his lap. As he frowned at this, she only said, "Haven said she'd hurt me."

"Haven," came the complaint of both Strauss sisters in union then to which the oldest Dreyar daughter retorted.

"I did not!"

"Did too," Marin sniffled as Laxus patted her gently on the back.

Bickslow came into the room then, Ajax in his arms. Mirajane, at the sight, immediately abandoned getting Laxus' food ready and rushed to take him.

"My pancake needs to be flipped, demon," Laxus complained when it was clear she was too enthralled with her nephew to care. "Mira. Mirajane-"

"Oi, Lissy, here you are," the woman's husband said as he stood before where she sat at the table. He could feel Laxus glaring at him, just for existing, but then, Laxus never was one for so many guests all at once. "I got the kids all ready, today, by myself. Made 'em breakfast, made them clean up after themselves."

"Uh-huh," the woman said slowly as she watched him with a frown.

"My," Laxus intervened once more, "pancake, Mirajane."

"Oh, you're just so cute, Ajax," the demon deemed as she snuggled his wiggly nephew to her closer. "I love you so much. You just wanna come live with your aunt, don't you? Huh? And-"

"Mira."

"Ajax. I love you so much."

"My pan-"

"Well," Bickslow continued on to his wife as Laxus, finally frustrated with his own, set Marin down so he could get up and finish his own damn breakfast. Damn. "Lissy. I kinda feel like, you know, you went off to Mira's to...do whatever it was that you wanted to do. Vent? Whatever. So I went ahead and did all the morning stuff with the kids and now-"

"Bickslow, don't."

Somehow, while Laxus wasn't able to get Mirajane's attention, Bickslow's words, not even directed towards hers, had been.

"Don't what?" he asked as he glanced over at her. Their kitchen was a nice size and they were all a bit spread out from one another, but the entire tone of the room had shifted quite easily in a way only Mira could accomplish with just her voice.

"Don't," she said as, after flipping his pancake, Laxus turned to go grab his wife, who was moving across the room to glare into Bickslow's eyes, "come over here and do this."

"Mira-" Lisanna tried, but it was a bit useless.

It had all been a long time coming.

In the past few months, Lisanna had been bitching to her sister about Bickslow who would bitch to Laxus who would then mostly do nothing with the information because he didn't care about it. Bickslow and Lisanna had always been a bit off, honestly. When they were still dating, it went along to the effects of them either being on a huge high or some variant of a low.

Then they had a baby.

Which meant, at least to some extent, that they were tied together and they might as well go ahead and get married because why not?

No one was really too sure why not, but why also alluded most everyone.

Laxus had been married a lot longer than them. Or at least it felt that way. And he knew all about ups and downs. He knew about arguments and sleeping on the couch. He knew about taking long jobs to avoid one another.

But Laxus also knew when to accept his fate.

He was married to Mirajane who, to some, could come off as a ditz and easily gullible person. She was far from this with Laxus, however. He saw her for what she was.

What Bickslow was about to encounter.

Because Lisanna came off as more well put together and mature in normal light, but deep down, she was far easily to manipulate than Mira ever was. Bickslow played her in a lot of ways. It wasn't like he was cheating on her or anything (Laxus finally would intervene, probably, then), but he had a habit of, well, making bad habits and then, when Lisanna called him out on them, he usually made her feel like shit over calling him out to begin with. Imagine trying to come after someone like him, someone that sacrificed so much to being with to take care of her and Ajax.

Just because she was feeling like he wasn't around much or blowing money that they didn't have didn't necessarily mean that either of those were true.

And look on the bright side.

He forgave her.

It was just the way that their relationship worked. Only recently, Lisanna seemed to be becoming more and more frustrated with it. Which is where the complaining came in. Mirajane, who usually reveled in these sorts of things, seemed to be feeding off her sister more this time around though. Laxus wasn't sure why this was, that she was getting so upset with Bickslow, but he was kind of just glad his wife wasn't mad at him.

He and Mira had found a relative peace recently and if part of that meant Bickslow becoming the enemy, so be it.

However, Laxus really didn't want the showdown to happen right that moment in his kitchen.

Which is why he grabbed Mira's arm before she got to Bickslow.

"No," the she-devil said, not fighting her husband (she still had Ajax in her arms), but glaring over at Bickslow all the same. "He's been being a jerk since-"

"Mira, the kids are here," Laxus reminded as he glanced over at where Marin was still standing, by his chair at the table, and then to the doorway, where Haven and Kai both were watching too. Well, Haven was watching, silent for once, but Kai was still just standing there, toying with his puzzle cube.

When he was in the zone, nothing would drag him out of it.

"I don't care," Mira insisted as Bickslow made a face back at her. "He's been a real jerk to Lisanna for, like, a year-"

"Not a year," Laxus grumbled.

"Yeah, not a year," Lisanna agreed.

"I'm never a jerk, so there," Bickslow decided.

Mira wasn't having it with any of them though.

"You are a jerk. You're always a jerk. And you stick Lisanna with Ajax constantly, even when you say you're not going to, and then disappear off on jobs or go drinking-"

"I was with Elfman," he insisted. "If anything, you should thank me for hanging out with him."

If anything.

"And I don't have to answer to you, Mirajane," the seith went on. "This is between me and Lisanna."

"You're not going to sit there and trick her into forgiving you in front of me," Mira retorted. "Not this time. And then what do you do? Every single time? You don't even care, do you?"

"Mira-"

"No, Lisanna. He's always this way and-"

"Maybe you're the one twisting up Lisanna's mind," Bickslow accused then. "Mira. I don't hear her telling me these things. Then she comes over here with you and, well, maybe you're causing us problems. On purpose even."

"Why would I ever-"

"Because you're stuck in your own shitty situation with the boss here and-"

"Come again?" Laxus grumbled as he shot the other man a look. "Bickslow?"

"W-Well… What does Lissy have to say? Lissy?" He looked ot his wife then and, stuck in a rather hard place, she only looked to the table.

Then, softly, Lisanna said, "You aren't around much, anymore, Bickslow. If you don't want to be home, just say that. Don't-"

"Hey, I do wanna be home."

"You clearly don't."

"Yes, I do. I just-"

"Then why don't you ever prove it?" she asked, finding her own voice then, a bit. "I'm not asking you to not go out on jobs. I go on them too. And I work up at the hall. But when I'm not doing one of those things, I'm here. I'm with Ajax. I'm not like you, spending, at most, an hour or two at home, taking care of him, and then disappearing for the day. Even Elfman and Freed spend more time with your own son than you do. If that's what you want then..."

Lisanna didn't finish, but she'd said more than enough. Somehow, for once, it seemed like Bickslow heard it too as he only glared at her before at Mirajane. Then, he was turning to head out of the house, babies following.

"Wait!" Kai, suddenly, seemed to key back in on all that was going on. Rushing into the kitchen, he gave Marin a quick hug before following after Bickslow out the backdoor.

He was his ticket back to the guildhall.

Because...Kai honestly had no idea how to get back on his own.

"Are you going to the guildhall?" he called to the man as he ran him down in the street, rushing to the seith's side. His babies had an eerie feeling about them then as they floated around, clearly picking up on the vibe that their father was giving off. "Mr. Bickslow?"

"Eh?" He frowned down at his side, seeing the kid there. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"I'll go back with you," he told the older man with a bright grin which the older didn't in any form, return. It was when Kai's eyes dropped though, down to the cube in his hands, that he realized looking away had been his downfall and, he couldn't quite remember what exactly he was doing. What step was he on? Where were his notes? Who was going to read him his notes?

Growling, Kai threw the cube to the ground. This was enough to shock Bickslow into stopping, staring back at the little boy who was coming to realize he was never going to figure that damned cube out and he was going to end up as Ravan's bow boy, wasn't he?

Wasn't he?

The thought made hot tears well up in his eyes and he hadn't slept too well the previous night and he never really fell too good when Ravan was gone anyways, but now he couldn't want his brother back because hwne his brother got back, he was only going to shoot arrows at him and Erza would let him because she thought that it would help with his personal growth and Kai didn't want to grow anymore.

Or be a man.

He didn't want to go on jobs or try at anything ever again because his failure with the cube was teaching him that, when you tried, you only hurt.

And Kai didn't like hurting.

"Hey," the seith complained, walking back over to the little boy then. "A toy ain't nothing to cry over, is it?"

"I can't figure it out. And I've tried a thousand times! Probably more. I dunno. I can't count that high."

"Well, that's a good reason not to be sure."

Nodding, Kai sniffled a bit as he said, "I don't wanna be Ravan's bow boy. I just didn't like him saying I couldn't do something. But I can't do it. So now I'mma have to be. What am I going to do?"

Considering that Bickslow had no idea what he'd just conveyed to him, there was little for the man to do other than reach down and pick up the cube in his hands. Staring down at it for a moment, he righted himself before speaking.

"When I was a little kid, I didn't have a lot of toys, yeah? I was kinda like you, before you got here. Did you know that?" When Kai shook his head, Bickslow shrugged a bit. "Wasn't no fisherman or whatever. We were part of a circus troupe. It was hard work, a hard life on the road, but some of the best memories I have. One day, you'll feel the same way about all that hard work you put into fishing. Or with your brother now, when he's tryin' to hit you with arrows and shit. I never got an older brother, so I don't know about it, but one day, you'll wanna get back to this. Bet."

But Kai was done taking bets. And that was one, honestly, he wanted no part of.

"There's a lot of terrible things in this life, you know, kid," Bickslow went on. "You've seen some of them already, but you stay around this guild much longer, you'll only see more. You can't fold up and cry every time the going gets tough. It's the real shitty stuff that makes you wanna cry that, in the end, you really needed to, you know, make it to the end. Nothing wrong with crying, but you gotta pick your moments. And this wasn't a good one."

"I just… I just thought that I could do this, but I can't." Kicking hard at the ground then, Kai said, "Ravan's going to make fun of me and Haven too, probably. And now I won't get to go out on a job."

"How come?"

"I bet Ravan that if I did it, he'd have to take me out on one."

"What are ya waiting for him for?"

Sniffling some, he said, "I'm no good at my magic yet, to go on one alone."

For a moment, Bickslow stared into Kai's eyes before looking at the cube once more. Tinkering with it then, he said simply, "It's not so hard, you know. You just gotta play with it awhile. Know what you're doing. You get a lot of that time, traveling in the back of wagons to a town that don't wanna run ya outta it or sitting around while the big guys set up the tent."

"You know how to solve it?"

That got a shrug before, still twisting and turning the cube, the man went on.

"It's a trick, you know?" he asked. "The cube? The whole thing is one big trick. Plays with your mind. 'cause you, you know, go into it thinking that you gotta just solve one side and that will magically solve all the others. But it ain't like that, is it? You get that one side all set and then, once you get ready to do the others, you realize that to fix the whole thing, you'll have to mess the side that you just put together all up again. And you don't want that, do you? Maybe. You're not sure. But it seems like a waste then. So how are you supposed to do this thing, anyways?"

Kai shrugged because even though Lucy had gone over the whole thing with him in full detail and even gone to the lengths of writing it out for him, he honestly had no idea.

"You're not solving for a solid color or side," the seith explained. "You're doing it like you do everything else. In pieces. Every little tiny square has a certain spot to be, you know, in the end, but has to stop off in a bunch of other places along the way. So you gotta do it layer by layer, yeah? Piece by piece. And then, eventually, when you least expect it, you'll see the goal line and it can finally all be complete."

When he handed the finished cube back to Kai, the little boy only frowned deeper, but stayed silent. It was only when the seith, with a long sigh, turned to walk back towards the Dreyar house that the boy spoke up.

"Bickslow," he complained. "I thought that you were going to take me back to the guildhall?"

"Later, kid," he said while waving him off. He had something else he had to do. "Later."

Though Bickslow went back inside, Kai found that Marin and Haven had been kicked out of it and were in the front yard when he arrived back. Haven was very busy meditating, she claimed, in the other half of the yard and would cut them in half, literally, if they bothered her.

So Marin was more than a bit happy when he came back.

She gasped too as he came to join her on the front porch steps.

"You solved it?" she asked in disbelief.

He couldda said yes.

Marin would back him up, to Erza, if he tricked her into thinking this and it wasn't like Bickslow would give enough of a crap to ruin it. Then he wouldn't have to be the bow boy and would get to go out on a job with his big brother.

But…

"What are you doing?" Marin asked then with a frown as he started to mix up the cube again, to start over fresh.

"Your uncle solved it," he told her simply.

"Bickslow?"

Nodding, he said, "So I still gotta do it. All on my own. I'll figure it out. Eventually."

Marin wasn't so sure, but still nodded some at the other child.

"Yeah," she agreed, eyes falling over to where her sister was very serious about her meditation, some of her electricity even jumping off her body in some ways. She looked like she was charging up, but maybe she was just testing her stamina? Marin hoped for the latter. "Eventually."

Next Chapter

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#Bixanna #Miraxus #Fairy Tail #Fanfiction #4 of 5

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actingdeep · 4 years ago

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Jean & Cat

Give me your hand. Only give 'yes' or 'no' answers for now. We will go back later at the end. Close your eyes. I'm going to start by saying the Lord's Prayer. "Okay." That was all Lorraine could say these days. She would eat oatmeal when we set a bowl for her and she would smile. We put a red cigarette in her fingers and told her to inhale. She would cough twice in an elderly way, with sunken eyes staring straight forward, and she would smile. We shifted our intimate yet quaint and twisted car songs and dialogues to the back porch around 6 a.m., after tiptoeing past conked couple Jean and Ryan crashing on their living room floorbed, making coffee, using the restroom and watering the silly-looking dog. There is a very alien type of relaxation that comes with being the last ones alive from a late night civil war on your own good health, with everyone else defenseless and asleep like regrettable casualties. The horizon stretched and yawned. Past our feet, in the dew-covered grass, layed the sheepdoglike Lily, with her green bone flinging around her teeth. Cat had abilities within her revealing dormant truths and hidden pasts in others. I had amphetamines within me releasing all boring skepticism and reason. By the end of the night, she had given me a personal palm reading. The accuracy was daunting at first (and still is). It was a superstitious and almost laughable act, yes; but it was pinnacle altruism--and at that moment, after all these years, it was finally clear to me that she was my friend. I was feeling a little effete as a hidden star burnished the scale of an overripe and infirm world. Cat and I had inadvertently stayed up all night. We were either still drunk, or low-key tweaking, or probably both. Our eager spirits were about to be given another boost out of their usual pockets of time and space. We lounged with sleepless energy in squat gray outdoor chairs on the small back porch, with blowing trees and birds singing in the early summer morning. Jean had already long fallen asleep on her living room floorbed, and now that I finally had Cat out of the car, I could let my blood cool between easy nature and cheap science. The dome of the pipe we were smoking Annie from caught some outside debris from the wind that was blowing and made a slight brownish blemish on the inside, which made the taste of the rolling smoke a little less clean than the previous hits. Many a time when Jean and I were gulping down cherry-flavored vodka around this time six or seven years ago, in the bedroom right behind Cat's, when they still had their old house, I had never fathomed a table could turn so drastically: the table being my relationship with these two women--mother and daughter--over time frames scattered and separated by intermittent spaces of buildup and decay. The days when talking to Cat filled me with dread seemed like false memories when I looked at her now. I almost liked her more than Jean these days--a funny thought, indeed. "Are you still hungry?" "Okay." At 4 a.m. we were back from the bar, and pulled in the driveway of Jean's grandparent's house. She struggled to shut her car door and sauntered inside. I followed, but before I made it in the house, I heard my name called back from behind me from the driveway. I turned to see Cat gesturing for me under the dim car light. She was looking around in the car for something I don't remember what. I got back in to help her search for something likely of the highest unimportance. As we began to talk more, we ended up being in the car for at least an hour. When Cat begins to chatter with you, an angel should come down from Headache Heaven to give you a Valium and a bucket of popcorn. We hadn't talked very much all night, only because once she dropped off Jean and I at the bar, she didn't come in to join us finally until around the last half hour we were there, where I would eventually start a scene that would close the entire bar for the night. We laughed about that, and caught up with one another in general about the changes and differences in our respective current lives. Her overall pleasantness caught me off-guard, somewhat. As conversations in parked vehicles usually go, especially with our current bodily chemical states, we eventually graduated from serious discussion, to banter, to no words--just full duet performances to bands like The Violent Femmes and Fleetwood Mac, stridulate and true. This is nothing like using Tarot cards. Those things are complete bull shit. I am going to try to knock something loose here. They're screaming again: this time, passively-aggressively around the edges of the room, little hash symbols and asterisks and ampersands tunneling in the air and in and out of Lorraine's smiling ears. At first, the day was calm: quiet snores, with the T.V. playing The Price is Right, as some were still laid out on the floor asleep, some in chairs with coffee and paper, awake. The small house seemed much more open than it should have been. I watched the game show and sat on the couch next to Brenda, Cat's girlfriend, as she was scrolling her finger on a phone screen and grimacing a little. Jean's disheveled head was zzzing right next to my left foot. I put back large gulps of the coffee Brenda made me to put off my ineludible crash, and had cigarettes on the bright, thin clean carpet. Brenda started it; it was around 11:30 a.m. Grunting, she staggered over to Cat's floorbed to lean down, and WHUP!, smack her on her overturned body, making her yelp in a terrible way, like a little, running dog that pivoted wrong and twisted it's paw. Some moments you don't want to ever remember--that is--until you really can't. She had only been asleep for about twenty minutes, and immediately: "Fuck! What is...what is wrong with you?" cried Cat, still stridulate. "Who's all these motherfuckers in yer phone messagin' ya? Always fuckin' around on me, ain't ya? Don't give a rat's ass about me." "I don't talk to anyone, Brenda. I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" "Ah, bull shit," waved Brenda, turning away like a troll. "Fuck you!" "Fuck you right back, bitch." "I haven't gotten any sleep all night, Brenda. I was up talking to Derek all night, and I just fucking fell asleep." "Well, good morning bitch!" And so on. This match lasted hours; piercing echoes branching off into littler sub-arguments (but just as loud) over other things they thought would be good also brought up, neither showing mercy, except to make a jeer and cackle at the other's expense. Dan had already taken Ryan to his morning college class and hadn't gotten back yet, so between sleeping Jean, contented Lorraine, and highly tired I, no one was attempting to dampen the vicious quarrel in any way. I was sitting quietly, looking down at my feet and Jean's stirring hair ball, not from lack of sleep, but from the plain child greenness of these two women. I knew Cat as a married woman to a husband, once. But no surprise came to me when I met her current girlfriend (womanfriend). I knew this was more of an emotionally-hinged relationship and sexually less so; only the emotions in use were nothing but petulant combativeness, desperation, and cold resentment; they were fools together. After a while, crash impending, I would simply walk outside, away from it all, until the screams muffled themselves in the distance. "Okay." Dan was the man of the house, and also Cat's dad. He was a few years shy of sixty years. Although I had never met him before, having stayed the night at his house, he was quite jolly and approachable. He smoked cigarettes with the front door open. His wife Lorraine sat by him in a low-back rocking chair, onlooking. The rooms of the house were typical in the grandparently sense: white-gold ceiling fan, porcelain figurines behind glass cases, mini fish tank, placemats on multiple kitchen tables, a smiling woman sitting in a smiling rocking chair, big television. The only thing out of place was the smoking; it was a subtle invasion of a seemingly innocent atmosphere, akin to squeezing your girlfriend's ass at church service. I couldn't believe I was smoking a square on a davenport. Did you know the dead see the future? Back in school, when Jean and I dated as teenagers, her mother Cat was in a seriously disobliging state--dependent on drugs like Xanax and methadone. She would stay in her room twenty-four seven and roar at us to turn the music down. She only left the house when absolutely necessary, and had a round, evil scorn forever in her floating eyes. She was ponderous, choleric and painstakingly contrary, instigating daily screaming matches with her husband, or daughter, or both. She was always in carping pain, and loved to spite her old pasts to herself in drugged, futile insanity. When she would bring her mom her dinner trays, Jean usually took accusation and insult as gratuity. On the occasions she was in good spirits (which usually implied she was unusually zapped), she would talk to you for what seemed like long hours about things like ghosts or glory days if you weren't careful to sneak past her bedroom door, which was permanently ajar, with a low, rambling sound leaking out of it always. I loved being in Jean's room more than anywhere in those days. I remember a pink sheet covering an overhead window making every movement and shadow a cotton candy daydream, sitting on a stack of two single mattresses, with us both leaning against a wall with blanketed legs and her kitten, soft and white between us, with secret, window eyes. And there would be Jean: beautiful and youthful in blonde and black and pink and brown eyes. She was in the school's color guard and I would watch her practice double and triple rifle spins in her backyard for hours, smoking dirt weed to her music playlists. We were underage drinkers; but she always had a guy to buy alcohol for us (to them, just her), and once he would drop it off, she would cutely thank him and send him away, bringing it into her room where I waited, and we would drink from the bottle, giggling; or, we would just stay in her room for hours to avoid Cat by playing music, taking pictures, or just making each other laugh hysterically in various ways. I hope I never forget that laugh. "Okay, honey." We carried our drinks over to a rounded booth in the corner and talked for a while, saying hello to the barkeep Stephen as we walked in, and to all the other puffy, smiling faces we recognized, but didn't know. It was just Jean and I right now, talking like we always could, no matter where or when we ever were. Apparently, Cat was sticking around the parking lot for a while to connect to the internet on her phone for something rather (or was she?), and selling soupcons of various pills here and there to her bar regular buddies, amiably, with wrinkled eye corners. Something is coming through. A man with a flattop military haircut. I also see an older man sitting in an easy chair. How well do you remember your childhood? Does the name Tom mean anything to you? Jean and I sat near the DJ booth, which wasn't really a booth inasmuch as it was a large man sitting in a folding chair with a laptop. We laughed, but were loving what he was playing. Her and I have always been able to listen to music together comfortably for long periods of time, often with naps and cool silences. In the moment, I felt that we were actually a good couple when we were seventeen, even though it only lasted a couple weeks, tops; but being friends was barely different, and easy to do. She had many boyfriends, one at a time, in constant replicating sequences--one, and another, and another. I never minded that--it is a task for most people to be alone. Ryan was her current boyfriend, but she didn't bring him to the bar--and not just because he was underage. She used men like a body pillow or an aspirin; leave them at the house and use them for comfort as needed (and they were always young). She was dull now. I had to entertain her because she was dull, and I loved her; but of course, in loving her, I was dull, also. After some rounds, we would smile more easily. I asked when her mom was going to join us, because, to this point, I really had no clue as to what Cat was even doing, us having sat there drinking, unjoined for an hour or two now. "She's in the car, smoking speed. That's her drug of choice now." After I gave off a questioning look, she continued: "I really don't mind it. I mean, at least she can function." Hmmm. I rounded my eyes, and curled my wet lips. I excused myself, and bolted outside towards the car. I knew Cat would share; greed a moral hit-man. The dim car light was on across the street. After twenty minutes or so, I sat back down in the booth and readjusted my eyes, feeling fresh. Jean was standing by the DJ booth. "Do you take requests?" "I take donations." An older woman with a strained gait and a proud, pauper air waddled up to our booth and gave a friendly hello-how-are-you to Jean, but not to me. Jean had a subtle knack for being pleasurable and forebearing to humdrum dishwater persons, the subjective soul inside me under a spell of well whiskey, and also Cat's treat, slowly making my thoughts increasingly insubordinate here. "Aye! A Jeanie in a bottle!" "Hi, it's good to see you." (No it isn't. She's foul!) "Been missin' ya round this place. Where ya been, girly?" "Just working, and taking care of grandma." "Oh, bless your heart! How is she? (She's okay.) "Y'know--good days and bad days." (Too bad this Jeanie can't grant wishes; she'd make it no days.) At one point, I reached over and took a sip out of Jean's beer bottle. The woman slowly straightened her mouth and furrowed her brow, glaring at me. "You're disrespectful." "I bought this. I've bought all her drinks." A cheap maneuver. She turned to Jean: "You should find better friends." I saw Jean's mouth twitch a little, then turn up again. "This is my oldest friend," she defended me cooly, with an undertone of hate only I could detect. I smiled at the woman as if to say, "How about that?" She had a countenance that was one part protectiveness for Jean, another part antipathy for me, and a third part, something I couldn't place, but that was definitely for herself. "It's okay, honey, he's really okay," said Jean sedatively. Jean looked more allayed than I was once the woman had eventually returned to her table. The front door was slowly staving off tottering bodies as the night bloomed into day. As she passed by them, coming back in from a cigarette, Jean looked up and noticed an old school friend of hers, who was talking to a man that happened to be sitting right next to me, at the far end of the bar. This made her face light right up, I noticed, which contented me quite well, as Jean in general wasn't particularly boisterous. She skipped up to the old friend and gave a kind and delighted hello. But this girl was obviously completely disinterested in her, and gave her a lowbred, patronizing sneer. "Okay." Freshly cold-shouldered, Jean rubbed her arms, and became specially downcast, then: this was not okay. Seeing her so depreciated so abruptly sparked a most tender agony within me that would prod my heart, even under the many obtunding whiskeys I had imbibed over the night. I called the insipid girl's attention, and seconds later, she looked up at me, and when she looked up at me, I vengefully, and without restriction, said: "What kind of rude, phony, fucking bitch are you?" Her body didn't move, but her fingers and face started to contort as she glared at me. She dropped her jaw a little, and then clenched it, and widened her thick, black eyes as a fire rose in them. Jean stood back a little, and the girl began to defend herself in belligerent fury, while I held my own ground in the meantime. Every sentence she spoke bumbled over the next; she was clearly plastered, and in rage. I continued to fuel that rage as I rebounded spurring insults like "Fuck you!" and "What do you know?" with gibes like "I can't! I'm outta cash!" and "Fish swim, birds fly, and you're a cunt!" This soon started a mini-uproar on that end of the bar, and very quickly had all the remaining bar-goers perking up from their glasses. Some people began to hover nearby us gingerly, in case of the possibility that things could get physical, as her and I continued to altercate, teams now forming behind us. After about three more minutes of her drunkenly calling me names and I relentlessly making fun of her for being fake and angry, the bartender Stephen kicked her out. He was good friends with Jean (a regular there), and had saw us together all night, and must have been partial. He told the friends of the girl I accosted, now a tornado of nails and hair and fury, body still unmoved, to take her outside, and so they did. He locked the doors, then turned to give me a face of exhausted vitriol. I still sat there at the long bar next to my friend Cat, the medium, and her deservedly defended daughter, one of my most nascent and esteemed loves from years and years ago. Because of our mutual friend Jean, he would only give me a little hell for causing such a row, and I gave him a most disingenuous apology. We reset and regrouped, and were soon out the door. What a perfect pleasure it is to mislay all complacency and trepidation, and to actuate defiance in the face of all of our false, permeable cordialities, and to see just how easily it can all fall away. To feel what I did to be an imperative as to glorify a strayed memory of a forgotten devotion only moreover authenticates my conviction that the ways we go, and the happenings in our lives, occur for no reason at all but for our own attempts at nullifying an unavoidable and steadfast state of lifelong suffering. Jean thanked me for standing up for her, and gifted me an old look and smile that, so many years ago, I would have never believed I had forgotten. "Okay."

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fordarkisthesuede · 7 years ago

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JOURNAL 3 BLACKLIGHT EDITION REVEALED! (Part 3)

Oh boy. This is it. The final stretch.

A New Concern: “What if he wins? It is a thought to horrible to imagine, but imagine it I must. If Bill succeeds in opening the gateway between worlds, it will result in an… Odd-pocalypse? Weird-mergency? Unsual-tastrophe? No matter. If the big day arrives, coming up with a catchy nickname for it will be the least of my worries. To prepare for this worst-case scenario, I have begun stocking my old research bunker with supplies, rations, and weapons. I also tried to choose which theoretical physics books would be most fun to spend 50 years rereading, but they’re all so great I couldn’t decide!” [Picture of the Unseen Eye with the caption “Saw this symbol again recently!”]

Hiding Spot? page: “In case of catastrophe.” [The tree leading down the bunker is shown, with a staircase winding around it to the roots, with “danger!” pointing down, ending in a rectangle with “prepare for the end” inside.] “LAST RESORT – hopefully cryonics have sustained. Watch out for Shifty.”

Page left of Security Room: “I need to stop spending time down in this bunker. I was reprogramming my security code when I could have sworn I heard someone speaking to me. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I suppose I was voted “most paranoid” in junior high, bt I thought I had gotten over that phase. Then again, maybe that’s what people wanted me to think: that I wasn’t paranoid anymore so they could start plotting against me, plotting to take my precious thoughts, my MIND-thoughts! Okay, I’ve been inhaling bunker coolant for too long. Going up for some air now.”

Security Room page: [it now says “Security Code” and has the four buttons to open the bunker highlighted and numbered.] “If I forget this, I’ll be taking a trip to the FIRST dimension!” [There’s a picture of an exit door with “don’t forget!” pointing at it.]

Bill’s Teacup page: This one’s unusual. “One of Bill’s friends… Where have I seen him?” The face is so normal that I can’t really say who it could be. Seems masculine? I mean, my best guess is Alex, but who knows for certain…?

[Edit, 4/26/18: I kept forgetting to fix this bit, but this is a reference to the “Have You Ever Dreamed of This Man?” hoax! Thanks to everybody that pointed it out! (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘) ]

The machine pages: “The machine was meant to create knowledge but it is TOO POWERFUL! The device if fully operational could”

My Muse Was A Monster page: All the eyes drawn here glow in the dark. It looks just as creepy as you’d imagine – especially the big one. It also says “Laseep” “ELPH EM” “sit lal vero” and “rutts on eno”. This is just normal English with rearranged letters, so it says “Asleep”* “Please” “HELP ME” “its all over” and “trust no one”.

*in my defense, I was sleepy when I first unscrambled the words, and I peeked at that “Can’t Sleep!” page...guess I knew what was on my mind that night :/

Bill Cipher pages: Spanning both pages: “If he gains physical form then all is lost!” Left page - “If he entered our dimension, what form would he take? Flesh and blood? Metal? Vinyl? Spandex? Would he be a suave, well-dressed, possibly British man in coattails? Absolutely unequivocally not. Bill is a screeching, senseless lunatic. By best guess at his physical form is something like this.” [arrow points to Ford’s idea of Bill, which is like a triangle-shaped meatball with his eye and a strange large mouth]

I love you, Alex. I really do. Getting that nod at the fandom’s general depiction of human!Bill is the greatest feelings that I didn’t know I could have - yes, we had it before, but not so directly and in a published book. It still brings that certain level of satisfaction. I’m continually amused at the jabs at it, and I still to this day love quite a few depictions of him, but more than anything I’m flattered and amazed that fan-artists can get recognition at this level in this day and age. It is truly a time to be alive. I love this book.

Right page: [the figure of the human head’s brain separated into categories reads “ego, deceit, lies, pride”.] “Counterattack strategy: ?????? A triangle is supposed to be the most stable shape in geometry, but there is nothing more unstable than this angular psychopath. The damage he’s done to my thoughts is impossible to calculate….what havoc might he have wrought?” Underneath, Bill writes: “Wanna know what I did last time I was in your mind, Sixer? I deleted the world “burden” from your vocabulary and replaced it with “sea otter”! Good luck next time you try to sound ominous, smart guy!”

You know, I’m surprised that Bill writes properly. You know, proper grammar, capitalization, punctuation… You’d think he’d be the one to write in all-caps, like he talks! I didn’t think about that before now. Weird, isn’t it?

Blank page next to Invisible Ink page: “I have decided to use invisible ink to keep away prying eyes. ANYONE could be watching me!”

Invisible ink page: [the lightbulb has rays of light coming from it as well as a normal eye in the bulb. The ink pot has invisible written on it, with splatters where ink might drip from the pot. There are a series of odd symbols drawn around it as well as a few on top of the page.] “I may provide previous pages with new secrets I have learned since originally writing them, and perhaps reviewing old passages will stabilize my rapidly dwindling sanity…”

No picture, but the page where Ford goes into town has all the townsfolk’s eyes glowing. Even Paul Bunyun’s.

Hiding Places: [doodle of journal 1] Journal 1 – Describes my first 3 years in gravity falls. Focuses on mythical beasts, geographic anomalies, and my 30-hour arm-wrestling match with a very annoying unicorn.” [doodle of journal 2] Journal 2 – The most dangerous journal! Curses, incantations & dark power became an obsession in this volume. Describes the hiding place of the mystic amulet. I buried the amulet once I learned that it corrupts your soul (and whitens your hair)!” Journal 3 – The volume I hold in my hands. Describes my embarrassing defeat at the hands of Bill and the loss of my very sanity. Also contains a pretty good drawing of a plaidypus. Will soon be bestowed upon S and hidden at the ends of the Earth (I hope).”

Hiding places page 2: Underneath the scribbled out drawing is the picture of the momentum conserver Ford made back in the seventies. Underneath it is written “what might have been…”

Trust No One page: “Can’t sleep!” Is written nine times, and trust no one is highlighted and circled.

On the page next to it, it looks exactly like the show, with several spots on the odd wheel scribbled out, the sad face over the center, and “IS THIS RIGHT? I just don’t know anymore!” written beneath it.

The next two blank pages are Bill’s: “GUESS WHO! That’s right, pal, ol’ Six Fingers just conked out, & that means Captain Bill is steering the ship! And by “STEERING THE SHIP,” I mean making Sixer slap himself over and over! HA-HA-HA! That’s right, I just wrote down the sounds of my own laughter!” [next to the next paragraph, there is a drawing of Bill pouring gasoline on a flaming planet Earth, with the strange expression of someone watering flowers and encouraging their growth.] “Now where was he? Ah, yes! Mr. Serious was saying that anyone who was smart enough to decode these messages is smart enough to get on the right side of history! And that meant joining ME, your new best friend and style consultant, Bill Cipher! All it takes is a little handshake! Ever wanted to see inside the dreams of your crush? Or crush the dreams of your enemies? Or jet someone else control your body and take the old bone-mobile for a spin? ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SUMMON ME!”

Page 2: “And it’ s so easy! Just say the words “BILL CIPHER” three times out loud, alone in the dark. Ready? I’ll say it with you! BILL CIPHER! BILL CIPHER! BILL CIPHER! See? That wasn’t so hard! Now there’s a pathway between your mind and mine. I can see everything you can see! Sixer’s about to wake up, but the business between you and me has just begun. Let’s just say I’ll see you down the road. And if you ever get a phone call from a number that says “UNKNOWN,” pick up. Your Guy on the Inside (of Your Mind), BILL”

June 1 page (aka Dipper’s starting page]: “I discovered the Author’s black light secret! I invented some invisible ink and I’m going to try to write a few sneaky – Ugh! I spilled it! Now it’s everywhere! Oh, gross! It’s all over my pants! Ugh, this is embarrassing. I’m going to go wash it off. No black light for me. Yuck! –Dipper” [True to his word, dipper spilled the ink all over the next page, and indeed the page he was writing on. It’s like 2 giant splatter marks.

Mabel’s Smile Dip page has the “Do you like me” letter!!! I’m so tempted to check Absolutely!!! BUT I CANNOT TARNISH SUCH A TREASURE!

Bipper page: Underneath the note Bipper left is the best gift this book has given me – a caticature of Bipper. It even says “Bipper as a cat!” underneath it. All is right in the world at this moment. I couldn’t be happier. If you can, look upon that drawing and feel the joy enter your soul.

Category 11/Dipper’s page on Pacifica: (underneath the photo of Archibald Corduroy) “Roses are red, Pacifica’s blood is blue, I read what you crossed out! I’m on to you! Start combing your hair, Brother! –Mabel” Dipifica fans are now 10x happier they purchased this book – or got to read that poem!

I’m Back page: “I have found my old bottle of invisible ink! It was right where I left it 30 years ago – hidden inside the science fair trophy in my electron carpet room. Unfortunately, most of the ink is gone, and there’s a note on the bottle which reads: “Hey, dude! I tried to drink some of this and it made my tummy glow. Like Shimmery Twinkleheart! Ha ha! I think I’m gonna go lie down forever now. –Soos”

I’m Back adjacent page: “What a waste! Although, I am amazed that “soos” survivied what should have been a lethal dose of ink. He must be one of the most fit and healthy men on Earth! It’s just as well – this ink did little to keep my secrets from Bill Cipher. And I may have permanent retina damage from constantly flipping the lights on and off while trying to read my own messages. NOTE TO SELF: Invent bionic eyes. I’ll use what little ink I have left for some….private thoughts. NEW DIMENSION CHECKLIST:

Read the past 30 years of newspapers. I wonder if whales have finally made it onto land and become the dominatnt species. Also, looking forward to seeing how advanced the lasted fax machines must be!

Catch my breath – literally! I haven’t breathed the proper combination of nitrogen, oxygen, and trace vapors in years. Air is great. Really can’t overemphasize how great air is.

Order red turtleneck sweaters in bulk.

Check out The Eurythmics’ latest chart-topper!

Invent something as a sign of goodwill towards my niece and nephew. What do kids like these days? Bionic arm-lasers? Maybe a pet Cthulhu?

ILJXUH RXW ZKDW D “VLOYHU IRA” LV DQG ZKV HYHUBRQH NHHSV. FDOOLQJ PH RQH.” [Translated with Caesar -3: “Figure out what a “Silver Fox” is and why everyone keeps calling me one.”]

OMG

EVEN MORE PROOF THAT I LOVE THIS DAMN BOOK. THE LAST PAGE WHERE FORD WRITES:

“AN INITIATION: to fully complete your initiation as an honorary Pines, there is one final task - to place your hand on this page, hold it while you charge up the black light and then remove your hand. See what happens? Welcome to the family! Zh’yh ehhq zdlqlqj iru brx – Stanford”

If that didn’t rip your heart out, translated with Caeser -3, the last line reads “We’ve been waiting for you.”

I’m literally tearing up. Thank you to everybody who made this book possible. I’ve never been so happy to pay over a hundred dollars for a book. It was worth every penny. And the weird nightmares I got after receiving it.

[Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3]

#gravity falls #journal 3 #journal 3 blacklight #J3 Blacklight Reveal #spoilers #I LOVE THIS BOOK SO MUCH #SO SO MUCH #stanford pines #bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #pines family #618 #long post #like long long post #i love that Do You Like Me note #but i can't remove it from it's sacred place of honor #I'll have to just open the book every day i want to see it #i like how Bill drew himself setting the world on fire #but he still wants us to summon him #i did have some seriously disturbing dreams the night i got it in the mail #like no kidding #the most violent gory dreams i've ever had #there were 2 goat heads in the oven #but they weren't cooking #they just turned grey and their horns charcoal?#it was strange #i also got a knife thrown at me in that same dream #like it almost hit me #i really felt like i felt it scrape my neck!

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yogaadvise · 7 years ago

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The New Sleep Schedule for a Better Night’s Rest

' Very early to bed, early to increase makes a man healthy and balanced, well-off and sensible.' While the phrase created by Benjamin Franklin dates back to his book series, Poor Richard's Almanack, in 1735, it still sums up the number of people assume regarding rest today. The typical recommendation from doctors is that grownups obtain about eight hrs each evening and comply with a regular rest schedule, laying down and also getting up at consistent times each day.

Renowned rest instructor Nick Littlehales, who has been operating in the area of rest for greater than Three Decade with top sporting activities teams, including the soccer stars of Manchester United and Genuine Madrid, recognizes those inflexible suggestions leave a great deal of individuals out, particularly folks in sleep-deprived occupations, like pilots and nurses. Which is why Littlehales has actually created a different approach to bedtime. Instead of track hours, he as well as his professional athletes focus on cycles. This cutting-edge take on rest, which is based upon what takes place within your body when you're conked out, might simply aid you really feel a lot more well-rested, too.

The Sleep Cycle, Explained

First, a quick biology lesson: When you're asleep, you progress via 5 unique stages, where your body and brain act in a different way in each.

Stage 1 is called light rest. This is when your eye movement and also muscle task reduce. If you've ever felt an arm or a leg suddenly jerk or shiver while you were wandering off, that's called hypnic mylclonia, which likewise can happen during this phase. Individuals in this stage can wake up conveniently, and also if they do, will certainly often bear in mind visual images. There's not a whole great deal of research on what those dream-like images may be, nonetheless, they can be intense. The publication Study Guide for Psychology describes the experiences as 'hallucination-like.'

Stage 2 is when your eyes quit relocating and also mind waves slow.

Stage 3 is when you've gone into deep rest. If you were attached to an electroencephalogram (EEG) equipment, it would expose big, sluggish, undulating waves referred to as delta waves in your mind's task. Delta sleep is the farthest from being awake as our mind waves get. If somebody were to have a go at and wake you during delta sleep, they 'd have a difficult time doing so. If they did well, you would certainly really feel disoriented as well as groggy.

Stage 4 is extremely much like Stage 3, other than by this point in the cycle, most of your mind waves would be delta waves.

Stage 5 is possibly one of the most popular: Rapid Eye Movement. The name comes from the fast eye activity that happens. The rest of the muscle mass in your body, at the same time, will certainly be nearly disabled. This is the stage when your desires take place. (Enjoy the video listed below for a comprehensive explanation of Rapid Eye Movement by the scientist who found this state of deep sleep.)

youtube

The complete time needed to travel through all five of these phases has to do with 90 mins. Littlehales keeps in mind that they might not constantly take place in consecutive order. He claims, 'In some cases humans will certainly go right into a deep rest or REM state, pop out into the lighter stages, then hang back in for a little bit more Rapid Eye Movement. Yet within a 90-minute period-not HALF AN HOUR, not 45 minutes-on standard, that's what's needed.'

Littlehales makes use of that number to direct the whole evening, with each 90-minute block equal to one cycle. Two cycles is three hours of rest, three cycles amounts to four and also a half hours of sleep, and so on.

Use Rest Cycles to Your Advantage

Here are three methods to plan your finest night's remainder with this sleep cycle approach.

1. Do the mathematics prior to you go to sleep.

This will aid you prevent that can't- get-out-of-bed sensation you occasionally get when your alarm goes off. Remember, it's challenging ahead out of Stage 3 or Stage 4 sleep. Attempting to get up when your body remains in the midst of these stages-say, if you were 45 mins or an hour into a cycle-is a recipe for snooze switch showdown. You could steer clear of this fight by simply aiming getting in as many finished cycles (no halfsies!) in an evening as possible.

2. Track your cycles each week, not evening.

Keeping tabs on your total number of completed cycles per week provides you a lot more adaptability to adjust your timetable when unexpected things come up. If you understand that something is going to keep you late and also limit you to 4 or even three cycles (six hours of sleep or much less) on a Tuesday, you can include on a cycle or two later on in the week. This can be a full 90-minute cycle included in a night when your timetable is less demanding.

Aim to get 35 cycles (or 5 cycles per evening, on standard) in an offered week, and attempt not to attain any kind of less compared to 30, Littlehales recommends. If the number seems noticeably close to the 8 hours most medical professionals advise, it's intentional-most of us do require about that much sleep per night. 'early to bed, very early to increase' isn't the only means to get there.

3. Creep in a nap throughout the day, if needed.

Littlehales identifies two suitable times for napping-between 1 and also 3 p.m. (the 'siesta' period), or in between 5 as well as 7 p.m. If you can get a complete 90-minute cycle throughout one of those durations, excellent, however Littlehales says that just 20 minutes throughout those time periods could be beneficial.

You can find out more regarding Nick Littlehales's work, including his coaching solutions, at sportsleepcoach.com.

#iyengar yoga #yoga

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klbwriting · 7 years ago

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Melting Point

Pancakes, Fried Chicken, and Fruit Salad

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow

Pairing: Mick x female!Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Y/N’s first week on the WaveRider is just one big stress mess until they decide to cook a midnight snack, getting an unexpected eating companion.

Note: 2 chapters in one day because I am committed to this story in a way I haven’t been before

Tag: @myregardstothereader @downsideright @may-we-fangirl-again

Y/N had relented the photo of her father to Ray for him to start trying to track him through time before Sara and Amaya started training her. If she was going to be getting attacked she should know how to control her powers and her body to defend herself and the team if need be. However, that was not going well. She had no natural talent with fighting and her powers were so new she couldn't seem to get them under control, melting things instead of summoning, or overshooting when calling an object and almost taking out someone's head. It was frustrating and after a week she wished she had more to show for all the work she was putting in.

Y/N groaned, her limbs sore from the last 4 hours of training exercises she had done with Sara and Amaya, them further cementing how terrifying they were to her. They could snap her in half with minimal effort and at this rate she would never be able to defend herself. All she wanted to do at this moment was collapse in her bed and conk out for several hours. After two however she realized that she wasn't going to be able to sleep, her mind wouldn't stop thinking and her stomach was rumbling. She stood up and headed towards the kitchen, thinking that cooking her stress away might help her get some rest. She thought after a week she would be stressing less but she still had so many questions running through her mind. She got to the kitchen, asking Gideon for ingredients and if there were any appliances. Gideon gladly showed her the hidden appliances that were rarely used and provided what she needed for pancakes, something easy to allow her mind to wander.

Why did her father suddenly come back to attack her? Obviously it had something to do with these newly minted powers but why? He had an army of robots, so what did he need her for? Also, why had her mother never told her his name? Or anything about him other than he was a time traveler? Why hadn't Y/N asked more questions of her mother before she died? She felt so guilty, and useless, she couldn't control her powers, had no fighting skills yet, and had no answers for this team.

Speaking of the team, they had been an adjustment for her also. She liked Ray and Nate, already feeling like they were her older brothers that she could hang with whenever she needed cheered up, and Martin had taken her under his wing a bit, acting like she was a daughter, and Jax had been teaching her about the ins and outs of the WaveRider in case he needed help with it. That was one thing so far that her powers were useful for. Sara terrified her, not because she was mean but because she could kill Y/N if she ever got the inclination, and so could Amaya, making Y/N weary of her also. The only person on the ship she was ever truly at odds with was Mick Rory.

How could one person be so annoying? His constant picking and smartass remarks were making her crazy. She could hear him even now, making fun of her inability to throw a decent punch or mocking her lack of control over her powers. She wanted to give them to him and see how well he did, he wouldn't be so smug then. Then again, he always seemed smug so it probably wouldn't bother him. If kept up his attitude however, she was going to fry him with his own gun. She knew that would really piss him off and sometimes she was tempted to do it just to see his eyes get big and his face turn purple with anger.

She was chuckling at the image in her mind, so wrapped up in her thoughts she didn't realize how much she cooked until she heard a throat clear behind her. She jumped and turned, seeing Mick there in sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt. She also noticed that she had made pancakes, fried chicken, and was finishing up a fruit salad.

"What do you want Gigantor?" she asked, making sure he heard the snark in her voice. He muttered something and her eyes narrowed. "What was that?"

"I said, I thought I smelled something good," he said. Y/N smiled at this and grabbed a plate.

"Go ahead, I stressed cooked enough for the entire team," she said. He nodded, taking the plate from her and starting to fill it. She noticed the burn scars on his arms but didn't say anything, looking back up at him to see him watching her. He stood silent for a moment, waiting for her to ask, but she never did and he appreciated that. He didn't feel like going through a tragic backstory with her yet.

"Stress huh? Stressing about what I'm going to do if you touch my gun again?" he said, taking everything but fruit salad. Before he could sit down she put some fruit on his plate. He glared but sat down.

"I was stressing about several things, like being useless to this team, knowing nothing about my father, a man who either wants to kill me or kidnap me. And not being able to control my powers is getting pretty damn annoying," she ranted, holding up a hand to try and summon a fork but it went flying past her hand and just barely missed Mick's head.

"Well Red, maybe you just ain't cut out for this life," he said. Y/N looked at him and glared.

"Thanks Gigantor, I really needed that vote of confidence," she shot back. "Eat the fruit, you look like you need some vitamins." Mick grunted.

"You ain't my mother Red," he grumbled. She rolled her eyes and started to clean up the dishes, not seeing him take a bite of fruit.

Mick watched her quietly as she cleaned up and sat down to eat. She sat at the same table with him, looking almost at peace, not really focusing on anything at the moment. He almost wanted to say something nice but all he could think of was, "you think too much." She looked up at him and stared again.

"I was thinking too much before you got here, but you actually calmed me down," she said. Mick once again looked surprised. He was going to ask her to elaborate when a loud alarm went off.

"What the hell?" Mick said, getting up and storming to the bridge, Y/N right on his heels. The rest of the Legends were already gathered around the tech table. "What the hell is going?" he demanded.

"I asked Gideon to alert us if she was able to find anything out about anyone who looked like Y/N's father and had her DNA. Gideon apparently found something," Ray said with a smile.

"Did you have to make it so loud?" Amaya asked. Sara hit a button and the alarm stopped and she looked at Ray.

"Or maybe it could have waited until morning?" she said, sounding annoyed. Y/N found herself moving to hide behind Mick worried Sara might throw something.

"You wanted to know about him right away," Ray said. "Looks like his name is James Branfor and he appeared in the 1980's for a month, started a tech company and then just vanished." Y/N frowned. Clearly she had been conceived in that month. She didn't like the idea that her father had abandoned her mother before she had even known she was pregnant, it just wasn't right.

"Can you see anything he did while he was there?" Sara asked. "Anything useful?" Y/N bit her lip, not realizing she had been getting closer to Mick until she bumped into his back. She stepped back quickly and he glanced back at her, having a soft look in his eyes, before turning back to Sara.

"Well he did get it on with someone at least," he said. Y/N rolled her eyes, vowing to forget the soft look he gave her, it was clearly a mistake.

"Well then, was having Y/N intentional or not?" Sara asked as Ray read more information.

"I don't know, it doesn't say what he did, only that he came, started a minor tech company that dealt in early robotics, and then vanished" Ray said.

"We should go check it out," Sara said. "Gideon chart a course for Central City." Nate looked up.

"We should consider that he will know we're coming and this bread crumb trail was a trap," he said. Everyone nodded as they got strapped into their seats. Sara smirked.

"We'll be ready."

#legends of tomorrow #Mick Rory #mick rory x reader #mickrory #mickroryxreader #mick rory one shot #mick rory series #mickroryoneshot #mickroryseries #melting point #meltingpoint #melting point series #meltingpointseries

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onewfantaesy · 8 years ago

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so in age gap au, there are a few instances where jonghyun has been the one to pick taemin up from school

and the first time it happens, taemin is 4 and still in preschool, and jonghyun walks into the little school and just

“i’m here to pick up taemin,” he says to the lady at the front desk.

“and who are you?” she asks. she’s worked here for ten years and she gets to know every single child and their family by the end of their first week with the preschool, and this man has never been to here to pick up taemin before.

“i’m a friend of his brother’s,” jonghyun says carefully. “kibum couldn’t get off work in time and both of taemin’s parents had to stay over, so i’m here to get him.”

it takes two phone calls and a lot of convincing, but soon enough, jonghyun gets taken to the 4-year-old classroom and sees taemin putting together a puzzle on one of the tables. jonghyun grins and walks playfully over to taemin, and he kneels down and gets close enough to the oblivious little boy so he can ask, “what do you have there, taeminnie?”

taemin jumps a little bit, but when he turns to see jonghyun sitting next to him, his face breaks out into a wide grin.

“key’s boyfriend!” taemin shouts, hugging jonghyun around the neck before pulling back and pointing at his puzzle. “look! it’s the power rangers!”

jonghyun tells him how amazing it is, and he helps him put the last few pieces together before taemin looks at him with a scrunched up face.

“why are you at my school?” taemin asks. jonghyun laughs and pokes his nose.

“i’m picking you up because kibummie got held up at work. so we’re gonna go to my house until your brother can come get you,” jonghyun tells him.

when taemin’s teacher comes up to the two of them, she asks who jonghyun is.

“i’m a friend of his brother’s,” jonghyun says quickly.

but taemin is quick to specify, “he’s key’s boyfriend!”

jonghyun laughs nervously, but the woman just smiles and says that taemin talks about him a lot, and it’s nice to finally meet him.

jonghyun helps taemin get his backpack and his lunchbox, and he wonders what a 4-year-old keeps in such a big power rangers backpack, and then the two of them head out to jonghyun’s car hand-in-hand.

“do you have a carseat in your car?” taemin asks, an excited look on his face.

“yes i do, i stopped by your brother’s work and got the one from his car,” jonghyun informs him. taemin pouts, but he doesn’t fight it when jonghyun helps him into the carseat.

“i don’t need one,” taemin tries to tell him. “i’m a big boy now. i’m not little anymore.”

“you’re not little anymore?” jonghyun asks him as he buckles taemin in.

“nope. i’m all big now,” taemin says, nodding his head.

“well then i guess a big boy wouldn’t want to go get a happy meal,” jonghyun says with a shrug. taemin’s eyes go wide.

“big boys can have happy meals!” taemin argues. “’specially if it’s chick’nuggets.”

“you want chicken nuggets?” jonghyun asks.

“yeah, chick’nuggets,” taemin says, “with choc’late milk.”

“okay,” jonghyun says in an exaggerated voice, “i guess i could get you chicken nuggets and a chocolate milk. but only on one condition.”

“what”

“you have to share your toy with me,” jonghyun tells him.

“okay!” taemin agrees, and once jonghyun goes and gets into the car as well, taemin tells him all about what he did at preschool today.

when they get to mcdonald’s, taemin is hugging jonghyun’s legs the whole time they’re in line, and he hides behind them when they get up to the register.

they sit down to eat, and taemin is fine until he accidentally knocks over his chocolate milk and it spills all over the front of his shirt. jonghyun is quick to put the jug back on the table, but taemin’s lip is already wobbling, and the tears are already welling up in his eyes.

“hey, hey, it’s okay,” jonghyun tells him. “it was just an accident. we’ll clean it all up, it’s fine.”

but taemin starts crying anyway. jonghyun cleans up taemin’s clothes as best he can with the napkins, and then he wipes up where it spilled on the table and the bench before cramming the rest of their food in taemin’s happy meal box and just picking taemin up to take him back to the car.

“there’s no use crying over spilled milk,” jonghyun jokes to him, but taemin just keeps crying anyway. jonghyun figures he’s probably too young to even understand the joke. “hey, it’s really alright. please don’t cry.”

“i spilled it everywhere!” taemin cries, his little hands balling up into fists so he can rub at his eyes. “i made a mess!”

“it’s okay, it all got cleaned up,” jonghyun tells him. “we’ll go home and get your clothes all cleaned up, and then we’ll finish eating, okay?”

taemin just keeps crying.

he’s calmed down a bit by the time they get to jonghyun’s house, but jonghyun still carries him inside anyway. he finds a t-shirt that taemin can wear in the meantime, and it falls over his little knees while jonghyun puts his chocolate milk soaked clothes in the wash.

taemin is still pouty and upset, though, even after they finish the rest of their food and play with the toy taemin got in his happy meal.

jonghyun has him watching some cartoon on the couch when he goes to put the clothes into the dryer, and that’s when kibum rings the door bell.

“don’t tell key!” taemin pleads with jonghyun. “don’t tell him i made a mess!”

“taeminnie, buddy, it was just an accident,” jonghyun tells him, smoothing back his hair. “you’re not in any trouble.”

jonghyun goes to answer the door, and when kibum goes into the living room to see taemin sitting in one of jonghyun’s shirts, he sends a questioning look to jonghyun.

“that cannot be what my mother sent him to school in this morning,” kibum says.

taemin bursts into tears at that, and kibum rushes to him and sends the most distrusting look to jonghyun.

“what happened, baby, where are your clothes?” kibum whispers to him, and he holds taemin close to him.

“i spilled chocolate milk on them!” taemin cries, his voice shaking and his eyes closed tightly. kibum lets out a sigh of relief, and he pulls back from taemin to send him a slightly annoyed look.

“why are you crying over that?” kibum asks him. “is that all that happened?”

“mommy said to be more careful,” taemin says, gasping between each word, “and i spilled it!”

“baby, it was an accident,” kibum tells him. “it’s okay, i won’t tell mommy.”

taemin just keeps crying, and kibum holds him close to his chest and pats his back.

“taeminnie, did you nap during nap time today?”

“no!”

kibum sends a smirk to jonghyun when he realizes that’s what’s got taemin so upset, and he pats taemin’s back a little bit more before sitting on the couch and putting taemin on his lap.

“i just put his clothes in the dryer,” jonghyun tells him.

“so we’re here for another hour?” kibum asks.

“just about”

“taeminnie,” kibum starts in a quiet voice, pulling taemin’s face out from his chest so that the little boy will look at him, “do you wanna hear a story?”

“mmhmm,” taemin hums and nods his head.

“well, once upon a time,” kibum starts, and he tells one of the fairy tales taemin likes to hear before bed.

he’s conked out in no time, and kibum nearly snorts at the sleeping little boy in his arms.

“he becomes a drama queen when he doesn’t get his nap,” kibum whispers to jonghyun.

“good to know,” jonghyun whispers back.

they put taemin in one of jonghyun’s spare bedrooms, and when the two of them sit on the couch, jonghyun turns to kibum and grins.

“did you know he still calls me ‘key’s boyfriend’?”

kibum lets out an embarrassingly loud snort and chokes back a laugh. after a moment, kibum composes himself and loooks at jonghyun.

“he’s quite the character.”

“so i’ve gathered.”

they both grin at each other, laughing at how silly kibum’s little brother is, and then they turn on the tv and wait for taemin’s clothes to be dry and for the little boy to wake up from his nap.

#taemin #jonghyun #key #shinee #jongkey #age gap au

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abovethesmokestacks · 8 years ago

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Oh, How We’ve Grown (3/4)

Title: Oh, How We’ve Grown Pairing: Bucky x Reader Rating: General Audiences Word count: 1.4k Warnings: swearing, feels? Spoilers: None

Apparently ten hours of sleep and waking up to freaking 400 notes does a lot to restore you from severe fatigue. You guys are being so kind, and I appreciate all the kind words you throw my way. So much so that and I may or may not have screenshotted some of your feedback to look at on a bad day. Only one chapter left after this one, I’m sort of nervous. As always, if you want in on the tag list, send me an ask. Do not ask in reblogs and replies because they tend to disappear in the notes, and I’d feel bad if I missed someone.

III

We found weekend jobs, when we got paid We’d buy cheap spirits and drink them straight Me and my friends have not thrown up in so long

”Domino’s, may I take your order?”

So it’s not the most glamorous job in the world. It’s the worst. It’s slaving for minimum wage in Satan’s sweaty armpit while hoards of rude customers chip away at your faith in humanity. You keep repeating that it’s only for another couple of months more, that you need the money, that it’s a good experience. You roll your eyes when the line crackles as the customer hushes violently into the receiver.

”Shh! Shut up, Steve, I'mma order!”

No. No fucking way.

”Sam?”

”Huh? Sorry, did I misdial?” He sounds drunk, and you’re more than a little jealous. Working the evening shift on a Saturday night sucks extra hard.

”Not unless you want pizza. But it’s Sam, right? Sam Wilson?”

”Yeah…”

”We grew up together, you know my brother Clint, ” you explain. It’s been a while. A year or so, maybe two, possibly three, since you last saw him.

”Wait, is this… Baby Barton?”

The nickname stuck after that night when you got drunk for the first time, and you’ve bristled enough over it that even Clint’s over the novelty.

”I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

”Hell, no! Holy fuck, haven’t seen you in ages!”

”Technically, you’re not seeing me now either,” you point out into your headset.

”Still with the claws, Bab-” He almost says it but corrects himself with a swallow that might also be a suppressed burp. ”Barton.”

”What can I getcha?”

As much as you’d love to chat with Sam, you’re on the clock. Brass don’t like it when you stretch out calls for too long, and you’re already pushing it.

”Yo, Steve! Whaddaya havin’?”

You can’t hear the answer, and part of you is wondering if the Steve in the background is your Steve, Clint’s Steve, and if so… Shaking your head, you force the thought away. Out of all your brother’s friends, Bucky’s the one that’s seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. You saw him at Christmas after the beer-incident, and the summer after, but then he never really came home. It pained you to not know where he went, however you didn’t feel like you could ask Clint. He was too invested in his studies, didn’t go to the same college, and at the time it felt too awkward to ask your brother why the friend you maybe-sorta had a crush on didn’t come home during breaks anymore. You only met up at the castle a couple more time, each time with fewer and fewer friends, until you realized it would only be you and Clint there, and no way in hell were you getting drunk with your brother.

”Barton? Barton!”

”Hmm?” Sam’s voice interrupts your little walk down memory lane.

”Did ya get that?”

”Sorry, bad line,” you lie, perking up to listen for real this time. “Could you say that again?”

”Three large pizzas, one New York, one Meat Feast and one Pepperoni Feast, two orders of cheesy bread and one order of chicken wings.”

”Got it.”

You repeat back the order, give Sam the total and take his address and credit card number, giving him an estimate of when his order will arrive.

”Hey, Barton, you should come hang out with us. ’S been a while, and… you know.”

”Sam, unless it’s slipped your attention, I’m working.”

”All night?”

Okay, so he has a point. You get off your shift in three hours. So what if you are dead on your feet now? You could just pop by, it isn’t too far from your own apartment as it turns out. No biggie. Right?

”Come on, Barton. You already have my address,” Sam teases, and you just knows he smiling that crooked smile, all white teeth and chivalrous charm that had all the neighbourhood ladies swooning over Mrs Wilson’s perfect little gentleman back in the day.

”Which I shouldn’t use for my personal gain!” you hiss at him.

”Come on…”

You sigh, looking over your shoulder. Your co-workers seem busy as ever, zipping back and forth. You shouldn’t. But what if… No. Yes. No. But-

”I get off in three hours,” you huffed. ”If I’m not dead, I might swing by.”

”You better! See you round, Baby Barton!”

You allow him that one, in part because Sam hangs up before you can chew him out. Three hours to decide. Pedaling home to conk out on the couch or pedaling off to a semi-reunion. It’s a choice that puts a pep in your step, and you breeze through the rude, drunk and semi-incoherent orders until it’s time to clock out. By the time you’re on your bike, you know you couldn’t resist temptation even if you tried.

Sam is a lot more buff than last time you saw him, but has apparently not learned how to hold his liquor. He’s a happy drunk, greeting you with a shot glass in each hand and exclaiming ”BABY BARTON!” so loudly it makes you wince quietly. It’s a bit embarrassing to have him herd you into the apartment, still in your work pants with a ratty band t-shirt and a sweater to keep you warm, declaring you to be his best friend’s baby sister to anyone still sober enough to listen and care.

”Hey, I thought I was your best friend!”

Steve is really your Steve, a mass of muscles and a backwards baseball cap that you hope is only ironic. When he envelopes you in a hug it’s something akin to hugging a mountain, but he’s as easygoing and polite as ever, running interference when Sam gets a bit too excited. You hover around them, gravitating towards Steve when Sam disappears for refills or a disastrous round of beer pong.

Of course you catch up. It’s standard, an exchange of data. Clint’s fine, he’s out trying to make good on his degree. It’s tough, market is what it is, blah blah. Really, Tony got hitched? Natasha’s a mystery as always, last Steve heard she was in Russia heading up a division for the company she worked for.

”So, what about Bucky?” you ask hesitantly.

Steve cocks his head, his eyes searching your face for something before answering.

”Military,” he then answers, taking a sip of his beer.

”What?”

”Yeah. Didn’t finish college. Dropped out and enlisted before our junior year.”

”Oh. Okay. Is he..?”

You’re not sure why you’re really asking. There was never anything there, nothing more than a silly high school crush that would never become anything. It was a kiss on the cheek, platonic in hindsight. So why is your heart thundering in your chest at the news of Bucky’s career?

”He’s fine. I think,” Steve blurts out, immediately backpedaling when he sees your shocked expression. ”No, no, he’s okay! He calls sometimes when he’s back at base, wherever the hell that ends up being. Shit, I have to tell him I met you next time he calls, he’ll be so stoked to hear about you!”

”W-why?”

It flashes across his face, so rapidly that anyone else might miss it, but time is different, you know that, and you see it clearly before it’s erased and replaced by an easy grin.

”People from the old block, you know. Where everyone ended up. So… where did you end up?”

He’s trying to avoid the subject, and you’re too tired, too overwhelmed to contest him. You offer up your own story, simple and boring as it might be while Steve nods in all the right places. Conversation dies between you after that, and you end up ducking out just as Sam pukes out the window.

You ponder the night as you bike home through deserted streets. Nothing’s like it used to be. When you finally stumble in through the door, you make a beeline for the sorry excuse of a box that constitutes your liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle off off-brand, cheap-as-they-come vodka and taking a swig. Nostalgia and the wear of a long day thud dully behind your temples and you’re not sure if you want to remember or if this will go down as another “seemed like a good idea at the time”-deal. Try as you might, your thoughts wander, travelling unfathomable miles to a man with blue eyes and cropped hair, tucked away in some hellish corner of the world, and you weep for him when you fall into bed.

@loup-malin, @ursulaismymiddlename, @bakexprayxlove, @callamint, @mrshopkirk, @tatortot2701, @ceebeetumbles, @avengerofyourheart, @booksandshowsandmovies-ohmy, @themcuhasruinedme, @creideamhgradochas, @feepsmoothie, @nuvoleincielo, @wellfuckbuck, @mellifluous-melodramas, @bovaria, @sebbytrash, @ouatalways, @awaitingjudgementx, @thelastjedl, @4theluvofall, @just-another-fangirl777, @avengingnights, @softwhispers, @therealgingermermaid, @c-maximoffs, @ipaintmelodies, @reniescarlett, @mizzzpink, @winter-in-wakanda, @seargantbcky, @dishonourablethief, @the-overly-attached-fangirl, @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme, @lostinspace33, @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel, @mirkwoods—princess, @lenavonschweetz, @ourpeachskies, @v271828, @caitsymichelle13, @noticulous, @abigrumple, @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli, @skeletoresinthebasement, @captainmqmeep, @vvintersouldier, @ayeputita, @netflixa, @theloveablesociopath, @themistsofmyavalon, @bailieinabottle, @thatisstilltheterm, @thedevilreadsbooks, @lenia1d, @prplprincez, @whenhumanityislost,

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #au #songfic #my fics #fic: oh how we've grown

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randrvstheworld · 7 years ago

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36 hours in Puno, the longest day & life aboard the emotional rollercoaster

Since my last post, I have spent a glorious day & a half in Puno, home of the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca; survived 24 straight hours of travelling to Brazil, encompassing the world’s most long & boring layover in Lima airport, & now find myself, suffering acute loneliness & sadness in Rio, of all places.

Let’s start with Puno. The town itself is a bit of a shithole, riddled as it is with trash & mangy stray dogs & half finished buildings & piles of rubble in the street. It is, however, lively, truly a town that never sleeps. We arrived after a long bus journey, late afternoon 3 (? 4? I don’t know anymore) days ago, shattered, & managed a plate of noodles before promptly conking out. The next day was one of my favourites so far. We took an outrigger canoe - a kind of frankenboat hybrid of a catamaran, viking long boat & gondola - out across Lake Titicaca to the floating islands of Uros. It was a beautiful day, & the fantastic views & sunlight glittering off the water more than made up for the somewhat stagnant smell of the lake at the point of embarkation (it improved the further into the lake we rowed). The lake is surrounded on all sides by undulating mountains, & is smattered with thickets of reeds & other small islands, populated by llamas. The sky was a perfect blue & peppered with fluffy looking clouds. The lake itself is home to many different types of birds, including some blue-beaked breed of duck that constantly dives underwater for fish - if only I had David Attenborough on constant hand to help me identify all these exotic kinds of wildlife. They were not mallards. And that is officially as far as my knowledge of different types of duck extends.

So we rowed, across the vast lake, as I half hoped, half dreaded seeing a human hand bobbing about below the surface. A fascination with mafia movies has left me with the assumption that all lakes are secretly riddled with dead bodies rolled up in Persian rugs. But alas - or perhaps, gratefully - my day was free of macabre underwater discoveries. We rowed for about 45 minutes out into the lake to the floating community of Islas de los Uros - a collection of man-made islands that host many indigenous people, who have lived in communities such as these, completely self-sufficiently, for hundreds of years. We visited one small island where we met a delightful native woman named Melina who explained, with the help of a translator as on the islands the people still speak indigenous languages & not Spanish, how the islands are made. Basically they harvest the big blocks of roots from the water reeds, poke sticks through the middle of each one & then lash them together. Then begins the constant process of laying dry reeds over the top & tamping them down. People are invited for sports days when new islands are built as the constant running around of people playing football - what else - helps flatten & compress the reeds. All the houses on the islands are built of reeds also. If you argue with your neighbours you simply saw their bit of the island off & watch them float away. We thought she was joking til she whopped out her island-cutting saw, a ginormous serrated sword specifically for the purpose of separating unsavoury characters from your island. LOL. That’ll teach you to steal my tupperware, Barbara! If only such tactics could be employed back home. I’ve definitely lived with a few people who could do with having their rooms sawn away from the rest of the flat.

People get around from island to island on these amazing boats, shaped like giant bananas, also made out of reeds. Reeds are top currency in Uros basically. The whole island network is run on solar power as obviously you can’t start fires when your house & garden is made of dry grass. They rely solely on tourism for income & make fabulous textiles by hand, from which I bought a cute piece of home decor as Melina was very hospitable, inviting us into her home & letting us try on her traditional clothes, & I felt it my duty as a traveller to give something back to her community by purchasing some handicrafts. Trying on her clothes was one of my favourite bits - I got a beautifully embroidered felt jacket with puffy sleeves, an incredibly heavy layered felt skirt, a straw hat, & a string of pom-poms that were strewn around my neck but would traditionally worn at the end of long braids. I got decked out in extremely bright colours because I am single - when a woman gets married she is relegated to dark, sombre shades of brown & black & grey which I found quite sad but also interesting as it clearly a reflection of the natural world where animals display colourful patterns etc in order to attract a mate.

In the evening, happily, we were able to reunite with Nick & Merc again who were also in Lake Titicaca as part of their ongoing quest to seemingly stalk me around South America - not that I’m complaining. I know I have waxed lyrical about this before but I enjoy their company so much; every time we meet we have a fantastic time, sharing stories & playing cards & laughing our asses off & I always leave in a great mood, nattering on to Roxy and/or Lucy about how cool they are & how happy I am that we have met. We traded some movies off our respective hard-drives & made plans for film nights back in London when we are all eventually back there. I honestly can’t wait to see them again.

The next day it was up at the frankly gruesome hour of 4am for the first of our two flights of the day, from Juliaca (the closest airport to Puno) to Lima, whereby we suffered through a soul-destroying 12 hour layover before boarding our night flight to Rio. At first it was quite fun because I like airports & enjoy the challenge of seeing how long I can eke out the consumption of a single overpriced muffin at an airport cafe in order to exploit their free wifi. I have also never been in an airport so close to Christmas & it was utterly teeming with people, going to & from their homes for the holidays. The novelty of the airport having worn off quite quickly I decided to kill some time watching a movie, & to make the most of a new film obtained from Nick & Merc, & in an attempt to imbue myself with some festive spirit I decided to watch Love Actually, & that’s when my mood took a sudden & unexpected nosedive & I fell head-first into a deep well of sadness that I am struggling to extricate myself from. It was all the footage of people greeting their loved ones at the airport, followed by live-action viewing of actual real life people greeting their loved ones at the actual real life airport with balloons & banners & bouquets that set me off. I felt so lonely I cried for about half an hour. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that all of my family are having a lovely time in Devon, with a beautifully decorated tree & an excitable dog & I suddenly needed a mum-hug so badly that I couldn’t stand it. We boarded our flight that thanks to time-difference saw us land at what was the equivalent of 3am & I was jet-lagged & sweaty & depressed. We eventually arrived at our hostel this morning & I have spent the day intermittently napping, fretting about money, crying & feeling generally miserable.

Here’s the thing about travelling - everyone you talk to constantly bangs on about how awesome it is that if you feel sad whilst travelling it is almost like you can’t admit t to anyone. It has been my dream for so long to see the world & I planned & I saved & I quit my job but the truth of the matter is it is exhausting, physically & emotionally, & lonely as fuck. The upsides are epic & the things I have seen & experienced fantastic but, it is also the most depressed I have felt in many years; my mental well-being does not do well with a lack of stability & although not especially exciting, my life in London was pretty fulfilling - my job wasn’t the best but I have a wonderful, supportive network of friends there & had finally achieved a balance of finding plenty of time in-between work for all the things that make me happy, like dancing & art. This trip has really made me question myself & things that I thought I knew & perhaps it was naive of me to think that travelling would automatically make me a happy person. It’s crushing to realise that even when I am seeing & experiencing wonderful things that it’s a constant effort to keep the negative thoughts at bay. And I feel guilty for even thinking these things because I don’t want to waste the opportunity that so many people would kill for, or that I have dreamed of for so long, & I certainly don’t want to look back on it & think, ‘oh yeah that was that mountain I went up when I felt fucking miserable’. But no one talks about it, which along with the separation from your friends & family, only contributes to your feelings of intense loneliness. Lucy has been a source of great comfort during these periods of sadness; I have been talking to her a lot as I really feel she truly understands what I’m going through, she said she experienced similar feelings when she was in Asia. I don’t regret coming & would still describe it as the time of my life but the truth is that travelling is an emotional rollercoaster & I am really not finding it easy. I feel like maybe to travel for this long on my first trip was perhaps a slightly overly-ambitious plan. I may have found it easier starting off with a small chunk of say, 3 months & working up from there. For this reason, I am not sad about the prospect of coming home sooner than anticipated. I can always plan & go on more trips but I want these feelings to go away, I need a break from them more than I need to continue travelling for as long as possible in this moment. I have achieved so much of what I set out to do & this makes me happy, but I truly feel like I need a break in which to restore myself. I need love & nurturing & familiarity, at least for a while before I can set off again.

As always during trying times, my mum is truly there for me & I am more grateful for her constant support than I will ever be able to truly express. Hannah also arrives tomorrow & I know it will be so great for my soul to see my best friend. Ultimately, this too shall pass & I do know that; but whenever things aren’t great it always makes being away from home so much harder. It is a real test of my mettle to get through these periods & I know in the long run it will make me a stronger & more capable person so that’s what I’m trying to focus on.

#travelling #travel diary #peru #brazil

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