#god its kind of deeply embarrassing for me that a single (well two) mentions of that through the media thing has me by the throat so much

[chasedeys]

aaaaaaaa exactlyyyyyyyyy 😭 god this is so,,, reading the context it's genuinely kind of insane

just the entirely new thing of joe saying that he sometimes learns what jamarr wants through the media while ja'marr is completely unaware of this ('sometimes through you guys (media)' -> 'i didn't know i did it through media??') is sooo ?????

like ja'marr talks so many crazy shit about joe and how he feels about joe as his friend and quarterback while joe keeps it short and neat but just as real and raw and ja'marr sweet darling unsure ja'marr can maybe feel like joe doesn't really feel the same mostly because joe doesn't talk as crazy about him (see his actions babe what kind of person wears your game worn unwashed jersey to a game. that's just as crazy.) or anything really at him (ah the ripe fields of miscommunication trope because they think 'nonverbal looks' are enough) and the whirlwind of the media always running with whatever he says (he's said this before right? like a little call out saying the media always takes things out of proportion) and joe maybe never actually talking about the shit ja'marr says with him and ja'marr sure as hell won't be the one to bring up the convo with joe so it all piles up as this unsure-of-his-place thing that he lashes out defensively saying he doesn't hang out with joe at all outside of football.

joe, who cares for him deeply but doesn't really speak about it because he's not a big talker he just shows it in his own ways, finding this out through ja'marr's interviews and being soooo confused but he's the kind of person to grip friendship tight so he immediately rights the entire thing. slowly connecting the dots that ja'marr blabs a lot to the media, easily navigating through the lies (😭), and realizes that his interviews are definitely something he should start paying closer attention to because ja'marr doesn't really always say the full truth to him or just keeps it at 'looks' that joe should get apparently and making this extra bit of effort is absolutely not a problem for him gauhaghguhghh somebody stop me

(like ja'marr doesn't know!!! that joe pays attention to what he says through the media!!!!!!! what he never actually says straight at joe!!!!!!!!! like does he start noticing past events where joe suddenly does something for him that he never actually verbalized before? does he realize that the someee of the 'unspoken communication' he and joe have actually stems from joe paying closer attention to him in ways he never realized before?????? what does that mean for the future. idk man i should just shut up and protect my peace)

the thing is like. joe is stoic and reserved and private, but he's actually very Uncomplicated in his love for ja'marr. the amount of times he's come straight out and said ja'marr is one of his best friends over the years... meanwhile ja'marr will say ten thousand conflicting things about if they talk, if they hang out, etc. but joe's just out here like, yeah that's my best friend 😌

[littlefreya]

Henry's reaction to finding out GF's house is haunted.

Summary: Henry’s friend invites him over to watch a horror film on Halloween, problem is he is madly in love with her.

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (3rd person, no description)

Warnings: RPF, fluff, romantic goo, friends to lovers or rather idiots to lovers, brief mentions of alcohol and Henry’s green hoodie p0rn.  

Words: 1.6K

A/N: So I had to take it to the “friends to lovers” lane, also I will need all the fluff after what I am about to post tomorrow :|! Divider by @firefly-graphics. Beta’d by my beautiful @agniavateira​ . Also FYI my house is totally haunted.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. 

Haunted Houses

All Hallow's Eve was Henry’s favourite time of the year. The spicy autumn air was thickly shrouded by magic. Spooky tales and plastic spiders inhabited drapes of thin cotton tendrils and fat pumpkins carved with scary faces would sit on his doorstep to welcome him home or bid him farewell on his way out. 

Per tradition, he would rally close friends at midnight for a horror flick and pineapple-anchovy pizza; often a bottle of rum would be added to the party. However, this Halloween fell on a bittersweet period, as his friends grew too old for said spooky gatherings. Starting new families of their own, they had no time to indulge him.

All save for her, who just like him was still somehow single. 

How bad would it be to spend the evening just the two of them... alone? Ignoring the fact that it was enough to see her name flicker on the screen of his phone for pure warmth to enkindle in his chest. He thought about her often before he fell asleep and when he woke up; and by often, he meant every single day since he met her.

Though she didn’t think much of him as anything other than a friend she loved to banter with - he presumed. And of course she loved Kal, possibly more than she cared for him. Yet, Henry did what he did best: bury his emotions into a little pit he dug in the graveyard of his mind. 

"Heh!” Henry croaked as the door opened. His sapphires ensnared the veils of black that cloaked her, preserving the sight of silk laces tied tightly at her torso in what seemed like a gothic medieval gown. 

“I see you took off your costume for the evening." 

She narrowed her eyes but only to observe his attire carefully: that same green hoodie and a pair of worn jeans that complimented his… asset. 

She wanted to etch her fingers around the thick fabric and have a whiff of this hoodie, or perhaps just steal it and wear it forever and a day.

"First of all, it is called The Witching Hour so I must dress properly. Secondly - where is your costume, Cavill?" she crossed her arms together, looking rather displeased. 

“I’m dressed as a homicidal maniac, we look like everybody else does.” 

Snorting, she tilted her head, unimpressed. “You totally just stole this joke from Wednesday Addams.” 

Henry shrugged and pressed his lips to a thin line. One of his foolish expressive gestures. It made her feel less nervous to which she was thankful. When she suggested they’d hang out despite them being the only two, she didn’t think much of the consequences of being all alone with the man who inhabited her mind and never paid rent. Everything about Henry made her feverish, but it was always easy when others accompanied them. The awkward anxiety of having to entertain him wasn’t her job, not up till now… 

Oh, god! What if they had nothing to talk about? What if their playful chemistry was always influenced by the presence of other people?

Beads of sweat began to form below her breasts when Henry shoved a bottle of rum into her hand and then leaned in to steal a casual kiss from her cheek. She smiled with a friendly huff in return, stifling the shiver that coursed through her muscles while he welcomed himself into her home. 

Striding forward, he peered at the Halloween decorations she hung across the walls and inhaled deeply - the scent of maple and buttery chestnuts filled the cosy little house, a scent that he could easily get intoxicated with. 

It was what she smelled like and here he was, drowning in its excess.

After a quick observation, he turned to look at her, holding his hands clasped behind his back. She smiled awkwardly in return and then averted her gaze, becoming fascinated by the bottle he brought.

‘There it is,’ Henry mused, ‘that embarrassing silence, there is so much to tell her, but she probably… no! She definitely finds me boring.’

This Halloween celebration would probably be the last and it was all sorts of disastrous. 

Trying to overcome the silence, he cleared his throat and reached a hand to scratch his curly mane. “So what movie are we watching?”

“Movie?” she asked confused and then quickly corrected, “Oh yes, umm... The Exorcist.” 

“Good, love me some green vomit.” his eyes followed carefully as she waltzed into the small open kitchen, placing the rum on the counter and then returning with a large bowl that made his nostrils flare.

“Green vomit goes extremely well with caramelised popcorn,” she suggested and popped a golden flake of popcorn into her mouth. 

“Sweet-salty popcorn? I love you!” Henry groaned and snatched the bowl right away. It was only when his mouth was stuffed that he realised what words he just used. 

But she didn’t seem to react, thankfully. Instead, she brushed a hand over her many skirts and pointed toward the living room.

Hugging the bowl, Henry strode behind her, entering the dimly lit living room. The traditional pizza was already laid on the wooden coffee table, along with a few bottles of Guinness. 

Her couch was small, only fit for a couple. And Henry, being a hulking man, took most of the space. Their thighs immediately ground into one another’s, yet they both pretended as if they hadn't noticed the hot tingle running beneath the layers of clothing. 

“I have to warn you about something,” she uttered, hoping that the tremor she suddenly felt in her body was not visible to him. 

Henry crooked his eyebrow, looking at the ominous glare she offered.

“My house is totally haunted.”  

Not waiting for his answer, she grabbed the remote and pressed play. Henry chuckled at her silly joke, waiting for her to break character but she only peered at the screen.

“Nice try, I am not scared of that stuff.” He shifted in his seat slightly, lifting his lengthy arm and spreading it on the headrest right behind her. Immediately, he regretted this semi-possessive masculine gesture, but it was too late to pull it away. 

Her instincts screamed to snuggle into him yet she held back. “Don’t believe me, but I am not making this up,” she insisted, “Every night around 3 am, I hear scratching from within the walls and these thuds from the ceiling, and then one night… I woke up the door creaking.”

Henry glanced at her quietly for a long moment, watching the reflection from the screen gyrating over her glossy irises and then snorted. He leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed two beers, uncorking them with the help of his pinky ring and then offering her one of the bottles. 

“I think you have rats.”

“Rats who make heavy thuds and open bedroom doors?”

“Yup, a big fat randy rat.” he teased. “We’ll take a look at your bedroom later, but I promise you, there are no such things as ghosts.”

‘We’ll take a look in your bedroom? Great…’ He berated himself. At this point, he just wanted to sigh and shake his head. 

She peered at him oddly, her throat clenching a tad before she turned her head back to the movie with a mumble, “It’s not a ghost, it’s a demon.” 

Within a few minutes they grew quiet, deciding to focus on the movie with the occasional dry jokes and bad puns from Henry as an attempt to overcome his anxiety. Outside the window, thunder rumbled in the distance and shy raindrops lightly kissed the glass, tinted with the many vague shades of lights coming from the street. 

Now and then, Henry shifted in his seat, his meaty thigh further grinding into her leg which stirred her blood to the point of electric spasms. She lightly pushed against him, pretending it’s by accident when truthfully, she wanted to exploit every second of being in his proximity. Had she any guts, she would turn to kiss him, but the thought alone made her heart clench in fear.

She threw him a glance, and their eyes met. Henry offered a kind grin, avoiding staring at her lips. She smiled back coyly, her heartbeat accelerating with anticipation when the possessed girl in the movie made a horrifying groan that ruined the moment. 

And then the room suddenly was swallowed in darkness, followed by a strong clap of thunder that tore open the sky.  

In the scant moment of chaos, he heard a scream and then the light came back as if nothing happened, aside from the fact that she was now in his arms, with her legs straddling his waist, and her fingers clutching the collar of his hoodie. 

Henry was unsure how and when his hand found itself latched to the small of her back, only that he didn’t want to let go. They exchanged bemused glances and swallowed the dryness parching their throats.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, “I got scared…”

Embarrassed to the point of tears, she attempted to climb off, wanting nothing more than to run to the bathroom and cry in hiding, when Henry sent a hand to stroke her temple and gently brushed his fingers behind her ear.

“Stay,” he insisted, squeezing into her lower back as if to prevent her from escaping. 

Her lips parted slowly, the same golden hue that suffused the living room split into her eyes, beaming even brighter as he continued to caress her face before bringing her closer to graze her lips with his.

Halloween was, without a doubt, his favourite. 

Tagging: @the-soot-sprite​ @henrythickcavill​ because they asked to be tagged in these. <3 

[sitp-recs]

(Perfect artwork for Modern Love, by @cambiodipolvere)

Today is the day of one of my favorite people! And I totally resent @tackytigerfic and Starry for almost sharing the same birthday, god the STRESS 😂 Tacky is my first and closest fandom friend. We clicked together so fast and easy that sometimes it feels like I’ve known her all my life, like we’re two dog moms living in the same neighborhood who happen to read fic in their free time. Despite our conflicting time zones and crazy schedules we manage to chat every other day, tagging and sending each other all kinds of stuff, coming together to cry scream about a brilliant fic we’ve just read or shaking our heads in embarrassment at every other unnecessary bullshit post. Tacky’s bright and wise energy uplifts my spirit even on my moody days, and makes me grateful for her friendship and for this fandom life. Okay so this got long and I had to put the rest under the cut:

It’s such a lovely and precious thing, to have someone with whom you can share every single thought that crosses your mind, your scariest, most embarrassing, petty or disturbing idea, without fear of being shamed or judged by it. I trust Tacky with all my heart to hear me out, share a joke or a piece of advice, even on the (rare) occasions when we don’t get the same perspective - that doesn’t happen often when it comes to Drarry, as we are taste twins!

Tacky my darling, you’re such a good person, and such an incredible friend. Thank you for introducing me to this lovely community, for being my safe haven and your unique self, with so many qualities I admire and feel inspired by: kind, witty, earnest, wise, and so very human. I love your humour and empathy, and your chill yet no-nonsense personality; I love your talent and how articulated you are; I love your passion for Drarry, and how you let this emotion inform the way you navigate the fandom and create for it. And god, but you’ve been creating some of the most beautiful content I’ve seen in these recent years! I’m permanently in awe of your ability to write Drarry in any shape, format or length, transforming even the most ordinary moment into an extraordinary and meaningful piece of character or relationship development. You know how you mentioned yesterday that some authors change the way you feel about a ship in a deep, definitive way? Well, you are that author for me. Your works made me fall in love with M-rated contemplative romance, and also allowed me to fall in love with Harry in a way I never thought it was possible before.

Some people - myself included - got to know you through the fun and intriguing A Lick and a Promise, others through the atmospheric and sensitive Modern Love, others through your contemplative and heartbreaking short form. Each story has its merits and purpose, and all of them share a Tacky trademark: the heartkick factor! Your talent has no limits and goes across different genres and tropes, that you explore with a bold twist full of personality and heart. And even more impressive is your consistency at always raising the bar - every new fic of yours becomes an instant fave and makes me think “wow I thought Tacky couldn’t get better yet here we are”. Seeing how your writing evolves as you find your narrative voice is a beautiful and humbling experience, I feel so lucky!

I’m really grateful for being active in the fandom at this moment in time, because that allows me to read and engage with your brilliant work, and to have you as a dear friend. I can’t wait to see what comes out of your beautiful brain next. It was an impossible job choosing a single fic to rec today, so I decided to do a belated Tacky reclist! Naturally these are my personal and biased must-reads, and I urge everyone to go check these beauties right now. Feel free to include your own favorites too, and don’t forget to leave them some appreciation.

Happy happy birthday my darling Tacky! This fandom life wouldn’t be the same without you. I hope you have the amazing day you deserve!

Between the Power Lines (2020, M, 3.2k)

The road trip fic you didn’t know you needed. I got utterly immersed in the heartbreaking quietness of this, feeling like a witness to an ordinary yet poignant love story. Such tender intimacy, such character development, such lovely American aesthetics with barely any dialogue. This is, IMO, the fic that reveals Tacky’s triumph in storytelling.

Even the Night (2020, M, 3.4k)

This fic has a surreal atmosphere, those Midsummer vibes unbelievably sexy and intoxicating linked to the sensorial experience of fumbling together in the night. Masterclass in tension building, a silky and languid dream-like affair.

Aim for my Heart (2021, M, 3.4k) - Harry/Draco/Ron

One of the most sensitive and stunning portraits I’ve ever seen of a poly/triad relationship, this fic packs so much character and longing! It’s a privilege to watch Ron and Draco’s tentative dynamics through the smitten eyes of the one person that loves them like no one else: Harry.

The Long Fall (2021, M, 3.6k)

I can’t even write about this tender domesticity without getting a lump in my throat. Best opening scene I’ve read in years, and a refreshing way to approach both mpreg and parenthood, painfully honest and lovely. This became an immediate comfort read for me, and it’s probably one of the fics I revisit the most.

Mortal Frame (2021, M, 6.6k)

This thrilling, fast-paced spy story left me breathless since the first paragraph, gods what an immersive ride! I’m so here for Drarry on the run, sharp and urgent with danger but mellowed by the silent trust and tender intimacy only Tacky can master. Major bonus points for the brilliant take on the Horcrux hunt plot line!

Last Offices (2020, M, 6.7k)

Oh, this fic 💔 I tend to avoid MCD but there’s something so deeply fascinating about body washing rituals that I caught myself mesmerized by this. I just couldn’t put it down, so emotionally compromised I felt. There’s a sort of strange comfort in the heartbreak of doing one last act of service out of devotion to someone. This fic inspired so many difficult but lovely feelings in me, and one of them was hope. Only Tacky could possibly achieve that!

Our Little Life (2020, M, 7.2k)

Inventive and singular, this story hit me straight on the solar plexus and left me speechless as I saw the (clever, magical and bittersweet) plot unravel. Such a fabulous take on alternate universes and all the angst potential behind it. Come and bask in the yearning melancholia of a short yet intricate and perfectly executed plot.

And One to Play (2019, E, 21k)

What a fun and delightful fic, I can’t have enough of pining Harry losing all sense of propriety when faced with a hot, competent and pragmatic Draco. This has fab dynamics, unhinged protectiveness, even more unhinged attraction between two idiots who can’t keep their hands off each other. A must-read for any Auror partners fan!

A Lick and a Promise (2019, E, 55k)

Hot, BAMF Professors carefully balancing a fuck buddies situation while solving a Hogwarts mystery, do we need anything else? I certainly do not. This fic is so fun and intriguing and immersive, with amazing supportive cast and a delicious get together feat secret shagging and oblivious pining. Love it!

Modern Love (2020, E, 61k)

My favorite read of 2020, this fic is a love letter to Drarry and will always hold a piece of my soul. Sensitive, wistful, tenderly aching and so very romantic, this is a Muggle Draco triumph with a superb Harry, exquisite slow burn and a side of suds comfort. I promise it will be impossible to listen to Bowie again without thinking of this love story.

Bonus: five stunning drabbles!

Something in the Way (2021, T, 119 words)

“Up,” he said, and Draco, sick with love, raised his arms above his head and allowed Potter to slide the jumper on him, big hands stroking it flat over Draco’s stomach until they both shivered.

Stir-Up Sunday (2020, M, 300 words)

“I want you always,” he said, tugging again on the fine curling length of it. “Is it okay to say that?”

Whalebone Arch (2021, M, 722 words)

“Are you still not talking to me?” Draco steered Harry towards the crisps. “Do I have to suck you off in the loo to cheer you up?”

Semiplume (2021, T, 923 words)

“Did you know,” Harry murmured, and he put his arms around Draco, fearless. “I’d be your mate. If you needed a mate, I mean.”

Relic Radiation (2021, M, 927 words)

“You’ll kill me,” Harry said, and Draco turned his face towards the darkened sky, lunar pale, his profile some stupid unearthly thing—a flaring blazar, a supernova—in the light from the kitchen window.

[danniburgh]

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 21

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +4.9k

Chapter warnings: uhm, this chapter is Javier’s perspective ehehe, so, beware fo feelings

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode ten. // again, i am really fucking sorry, but we are ALMOST DONE OMG, also i wanna say thanks to my official cheerleaders @queenofthefaceless and @maharani-radha-writes​ that helped me a lot and @alliterative-albatross​ that made me feel sure of some of the ideas i had for this chapter, i love you lots, guys. While proof reading this chapter for the first time i understood why it was the hardest to write, it was because i had just to strip myself naked and understand more of Javier Peña as i had built him... i just... im not quite pleased with the second half of this, but i know its needed.

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

←previous // next→

gif: @javier-pena (thank you so much for making this when i needed it the most, ily)

The air weighed on his chest; he felt his lungs struggling to find air; as he drove home, he felt his heart pounding hard and fast, as if it wanted to rip out of his chest and run and hide and die.

As if his heart wanted the same he did.

Javier couldn’t sleep that night. He didn’t even try to close his eyes after climbing into bed.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you.

Jesus Christ.

His mind was reeling, he couldn’t stop replaying every single thing you told him in his mind.

“My name is not Florencia Martín”

“A precarious situation”

“Another Los Pepes scenario”

“You do care, you care a lot”

He wanted to crawl into a deep hole and bury himself to stop his body from feeling.

Javier cringed deeply when he remembered he had told you he had fallen in love with you without even thinking about it.

That certainly wasn’t the way you were supposed to find out.

He guessed, while tossing around on his bed, on the same sheets that still smelled like you, that he had it coming. He probably deserved it. But that didn’t make him feel any better, it stung.

It burned.

Javier had stripped himself naked for you, more than just his body, he had let you see him; he had let you touch him; he had let you read him; he had let you know him.

He had let himself feel and… he had let himself think he deserved something good.

He felt like such an idiot, stupid and embarrassed because there you had been… Standing in front of him, in a place he thought it would become something close to his fortress, breaking him. And he let you.

God. He had known you for less than six months, and yet he let you have power over him. All that power to make him whatever you wanted. He had handed you a sledgehammer and his heart and soul on a porcelain platter for you to shatter.

And he just took it.

Javier huffed at his own thoughts while his eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He was an idiot, wasn’t he? Having let himself feel all those things he had been so beware of for a woman he never really knew.

What else was fake about you?

He felt that sting, known and oh so foreign clench in his throat and he fought it. He fought it hard. Why was he feeling like that?

“A precarious situation”

“You do care, you care a lot”

He sat up and brought his knees to his chest, clenching his jaw so tight his face started trembling.

He had to unclench it so he could open his mouth and gasp for air because his lungs were tightening in his chest and he knew he just had to let go. He shook his head to nothing and fought it again. He would not break. He couldn’t.

But then he remembered he was all alone. Just him and his mind and... he stopped fighting for the first time in years and allowed his feelings to pour down from his eyes.

Javier clenched his jaw again as he felt the thick, years old tears pouring and pouring, clouding his sight, flooding his face.

“Fuck,” he muttered to nothing, resting his face on his hand and his arm on his knee, his chest struggling with the silent sobs he was drowning in.

Javier cried for around an hour.

He allowed himself to cry, to cry for you, because if he had allowed himself to fall in love with you and he had allowed you to wield power over him, he deserved a chance to fall apart as well.

He had earned it.

His tears of grief and pain became tears of anger and pain.

He was so angry; at himself, because, thinking again about everything you had told him, you had said something right; he had dragged you into having whatever the hell you two had. He had kissed you and practically turned your wrist into starting something with him only, and just only because he felt lonely. Because he felt like maybe, for the first time in decades, he could have something good. Because he felt like maybe it was time for him to love and be loved again when, in reality, he didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone.

He had let himself believe you could be something else, less complicated. But how wrong he was… Him? Loved? As if. Him? In Colombia? Laughable.

That country… It became more than clear how much he had lost by going down there.

He huffed again in between tears at how it took a massive hit to the heart for him to realize how much he had lost in the years he had been there.

He was so angry; at the system. The fucking system that forced you and him into taking assignments you didn’t deserve to take. There wasn’t another moment he hated more right then, than the moment he had said yes to returning to Colombia. His dad was right, he didn’t like what he found. And it truly changed him before he could change it. How he wanted to have listened to him, how he wanted to not be the stubborn ass he was and just… said no.

And you? You had taken an assignment that promised unreachable things, one that forced you into turning into a liar, one that didn’t let you be yourself.

Fuck, was he really trying to find justifications for what you did even though you had broken him in pieces?

He was so angry; at you. For lying to him and from dropping the facade, for taking off the mask that he had rushed to love, for thinking he deserved the truth instead of you leaving once everything was over. He thought it would have hurt less if you had just… disappeared.

He wouldn’t be crying at three in the morning on his bed if you had just vanished into thin air.

Javier remembered seeing the hope in your eyes when you were telling him the truth, who you really were, he saw it and he wanted to tell you he forgave you. But neither of you deserved something that good.

He was sure it all was some kind of karma. A penance for all his sins, a way too high price he had to pay for all the shit he had done.

He realized then, while sitting on his bed in the middle of the night, the same one he had shared with you for nights that felt burned into his memory, that you and him weren’t so different.

That you two had more in common than he had first thought. That you, as he had said to you before, when you were still wrapped around his arms on that same bed, were a person who was willing to do anything for a greater cause. That you as well were capable of doing anything if you thought it did good, that you also were capable of sacrifice, of losing everything as long as you were doing what you thought was the right thing.

And you had told him, as you cried your eyes out in front of him, facing him and facing and taking all the repercussions of your actions, that you really thought it was the right thing to do.

The realization was truly bittersweet. He didn’t like that even when you had broken his heart and stepped on the pieces as you walked out, he still understood why you did it.

After that despaired, miserable night, he decided he was done bringing you to the front of his mind, so he shoved all the memories of you and tried to repress them in the back of his head along with countless others he didn’t rather to address.

The next day he stepped into the office with less than half an hour of sleep he had seemed to catch while condemning himself in the solitude of his room and avoided looking at your still cluttered desk. Full of you.

He ignored Stoddard when he asked him where you were as he stepped out of the office to head to Cali an hour later and while the elevator brought him down to the lobby he tried to drown the way the mention of your fake name made him feel.

That morning you walked directly to the CIA office, every step you gave into the embassy hurt in your body, mind and soul as if each one had a dagger embedded deeply and an invisible hand was twisting each dagger deeper. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. You entered, unannounced, into Stechner’s office, not even trying to hide the enormous amount of pain you were going through. You were tired of hiding things.

“Ah, my favorite DEA agent,” Stechner said when he saw you walk in “well, not anymore, I guess.” he smirked and you felt his gaze linger on your body, shamelessly.

“Let’s just get this over with.” you muttered, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Oh, this is more than over, alright?” the man leaned back on his chair and reached a manila folder that rested on top of others on his desk and raised it so you could see it “resignation, what a word,” he said, putting the folder back on the desk, opening the folder and taking the sole sheet of paper on his hand “really? after you failed almost epically?” Stechner smiled humorlessly and took your resignation letter in both hands and… ripped it in half.

You drowned a gasp.

“You have a flight to Washington today at noon.” he let out softly, feigning a comprehensive tone.

“Of course I do.” you mumbled, dropping your arms to the sides, feeling your eyes flood with tears as you saw him tossing the parts of your resignation letter in the trash can.

You blinked the tears away and quietly took a deep breath, halfway achieving a fake sense of stability you had fed yourself since the night before.

What were you thinking, after everything you did they would have let you get off easy? Of course not you silly girl.

“Oh, honey, you need a hug?” Stechner asked with a teasing gaze and a fake tone of worry “I bet breaking up with Peña really did something on you, you look like a mess”

You tightened your jaw and rolled your hands into fists, Stechner noticed, and his mocking face dropped.

“Anything else?” you asked him, voice hardened, with your eyes staring right into his, admonishing him, warning him. He knew what you were capable of, you knew he did.

He shook his head twice, and you lifted your chin up.

“I really wish you the best, sweetie.” he mumbled, dropping his gaze to his desk and trying to ignore the way your face turned into a scowl at the endearment.

“No, you don’t, you fucker,” you all but growled wanting nothing more than to erase that seemingly permanent smirk off his face that grew after he raised his head to look at you “you’re happy that I’m getting out of here like this,” you chuckled bitterly “you wanted this to happen, I hope you’re satisfied.” you let out all the venom you had been keeping inside you for that man in the last sentence you spat to him.

“You’re right, but I won’t say it,” he tutted and shook his head slowly “you really cost us a lot, sweetheart,” he mumbled and you were sure you were about to spit foam from the rage inside you “I hope you know that.”

You sighed and smiled bitterly at the man. Ever so fucking disgusting. For the first time in your life, you wanted something bad to happen to someone. And you didn’t regret it.

“I won’t ever forget it.” you spat at him in a soft voice that made him glare at you with a serious face.

You turned around and walked out of his office, leaving the door open, feeling his stare on your back.

Feeling, then more than ever, the insides of your mind finishing crashing down. Finally broken. Fully broken.

You walked towards the elevator and pushed the lobby button, hoping to dissolve in the way, hoping the elevator floor would just break and the void swallowed you and your body crashed against the concrete floor of the second basement.

But instead, the doors opened on the DEA floor and Stoddard stepped inside, shooting you a concerned smile as the doors closed.

“Hi, Florencia,” he looked at you and you tried to give him a smile, knowing you failed “you okay?” he asked, you blinked a few times before looking at him. He pushed his glasses up.

“Yeah!” you let out in a squeal “just peachy.” you drifted your eyes away and sighed again.

“I… thought you were in Cali.” Stoddard let out after a few seconds, you turned to see him with your brow furrowed.

“Cali?”

“Well… yeah,” he shrugged “the boss and the guys went back to Cali this morning.”

You let out a sigh, of both relief and worry.

“Oh,” you said under your breath “no, I…” you shook your head and tried to smile at him again and failed, this time he noticed “I needed to take care of something else.”

“I see,” he mumbled, the elevator doors opened and you stepped out “you sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking at you, you nodded several times.

“Yeah, Stod,” you assured him, trying to make him believe it, not quite sure if you believed yourself “I’m fine.”

Stoddard nodded at you as the elevator doors closed and you waved him once goodbye. Knowing it would be the last time. You walked out of the embassy in complete and utter shame, and some part inside you screamed that you deserved it.

Javier rescued another witness that day, because he still wanted to do something right even though he didn’t feel right himself.

But then, after sending Guillermo Pallomari to Miami, he had to return to his office. That place he had thought was his fortress, and then it was turned into… a dungeon.

He didn’t ignore your cluttered desk this time; he was alone in the office, there was no one that could say anything of him if he just… looked around.

A steel cup filled with different colored pens and only red markers, a pile of unsigned DEA reports, in one of the drawers a block of sticky notes running low, the same ones you made notes on and stuck on files when you reviewed them and that Javier hated to see because they were just so fucking bright, your red coffee cup you used when you didn’t have time to grab some at his house because he just kept kissing you until you both were late, which didn't happen at your place because Javier always woke up before you and started the coffee machine, a gun holster you hated to use because it just never clutched the way you wanted to your jeans and a small, brown journal he had never seen before and that he took because there wasn’t anyone that could say anything of him if he just… looked around.

He hesitated for a moment to open the journal, unsure of himself or of what he would find. The first page had your initials, your real initials written on the far left corner and just a list of names he didn’t recognize, next a few scribbles and a phone number. Javier skimmed through the pages and around the middle he found his name. Written in your pretty handwriting, with a few numbers underneath that looked dangerously close to file codes.

He snapped the journal closed and left it where he found it. He shouldn’t have looked.

In his office he found all the documents you had risked so much to gather and all the intel you just handed to him, pretty much as he had handed you his heart.

Javier let out a sigh and grabbed the folders, sitting behind the desk and opening the first one.

He re-read every single piece of information until his eyes stung from the exhaustion, or the cigarette smoke, or maybe more unshed tears he was once again fighting so hard to keep inside him.

Tears of sadness, it was a given. But also anger, and frustration and pain, and, as a bucket of freezing cold water, years of regrets fell on him.

Javier had tried, had tried hard to bury all that shit in some far, deep corner of his mind, as he had tried to bury you and all his memories of the last four? five? months. He really did. But at that moment, sheltered inside an office that didn’t feel like his anymore, past midnight, alone and so damn vulnerable, it all rose to the surface and he found himself drowning inside a sea of his own mistakes and past sins.

It was unbearable to stay there. So he grabbed the files that felt like burning in his hands and took off.

And so, Javier went back to an empty apartment that even though had been his for a long time, felt emptier than it had ever felt without you and reminded him only of you.

Why had he allowed his house to become a fucking shrine to the time you had spent there?

Everytime he looked at everything, from the fucking lamp at the corner of the end table to the damn waterbottle you left the last morning you were there on his kitchen counter, an image of you invaded his mind. Like a suffocating wildfire, spreading with the simplest blow of the wind. Covering him, trapping him, burning him and turning him into ashes.

That night he drank almost all the alcohol he had left in his house and even then, with his body full of booze, his intoxicated mind all the time returned to you. To your face, to your eyes and that color that was so common yet somehow looked so unique, to your voice and how you called his name either on a whisper or on a scold, to your smile and how apparently you had one only for him, to your hands and how you used them one night to touch him and the next morning to grip a gun, to how you drove him crazy from the very beginning. Fuck, he loved you. And he hated you all the same.

You gave him your resignation letter, you had left a job you claimed you loved so much that you had taken on something that did you so much wrong. You quit because of what they made you do, and probably, just probably, he had to do the same. Because of what they did to him.

Was it worth it? Everything he did… Was it worth something? Anything?

He thought again of everything he had done in the past decade and felt sick at what his brain was showing him. It really wasn’t.

The idea of doing something good, doing something that could give him a little peace invaded his mind and he spent half the night thinking of something he could do to finally, finally feel like he was helping.

The next morning he found himself sitting in the conference room with Crosby hovering around him. He huffed at himself, sitting there as if there was nothing wrong going around, with the ambassador looking at him with his ever so present judgemental smirk, as if he wasn't just pieces of a man that put himself together with the weakest glue when he got dressed that morning with less than two hours of sleep after being trapped inside his house that smelled like you with nothing but alcohol and time to think. His pop was right, they did something to him in that country. He just didn’t know what.

“Y’know how many times I’ve gotten a call from the Department of Justice and State the same morning?” Crosby rhetored, Javier looked at him, already tired of the lecture he was about to get “count ‘em on one finger, guess we have you to thank for that.”

Javier dropped his eyes to the oak table in front of him and absentmindedly tried to draw a pattern with the tip of his finger while half listening to Crosby telling him about his meeting with the Colombian president to demand that the gentlemen of Cali stayed in jail. He looked back at his boss and after half a second of pondering he told him he had a draft indictment of the president’s ties with the cartel, omitting the part of the story where he had drafted it half drunk the night before. And of course Crosby laughed at it.

Javier huffed again at himself when Crosby suggested he kept the draft to himself and he felt his blood starting to boil. He sighed and fought the urge to stand up and leave. What was he thinking? That a man like Crosby would back up a man like him? Just like that? What a naïve thought.

“The DOJ’s not gonna topple a government, Agent Peña,” the ambassador told him, obviating the statement, Javier felt his chest turn “you can’t tell me you’re surprised by that.”

“Some part of me was holding out hope, I guess.” he muttered to Crosby, who walked around the table and stood next to him, Javier didn’t even bother to hide his face from him, god how tired he was of hiding.

“Well, you should tell that part to grow the fuck up,” Crosby spat and Javier drowned a bitter chuckle “no, I mean it, Agent Peña, you should be happy,” the ambassador said and Javier frowned at the man “you played the system like a goddamn fiddle, you won.”

Javier opened his mouth to rebut the statement but Crosby just walked behind his chair and left the room, leaving him with the word in his mouth.

He felt his stomach toss in disgust, at his boss, at his job, at himself. Fuck that.

“Yes, sir.” he mumbled under his breath.

Did he really win something? The job that helped him escape from everything, the one at some point of his life felt like a dream, had become a nightmare. The woman he grew to love, after years and years of not feeling that, barely got out of there alive and the name he had whispered in extasis wasn’t even hers. Everything he had once believed in was melting away like wax on a candle and being washed away by a sea of regret, desolation and anger.

Did he really win something when he had lost everything? He had even lost himself in the process of what he and everyone around him had called a once in a lifetime opportunity to end a War that was so familiar to him it almost sat at the table on Thanksgiving with him and his dad.

And when he got out of the conference room, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, the idea of following your steps and quit became a lot more attractive to him.

So he went back to his empty home filled with your memories, resigned that he wouldn’t sleep much that night either, and stood in the middle of the living room, not knowing why he felt like a visitor in his own house, chain smoking, thinking about everything just because he wanted to stop thinking about you.

Javier walked to his window and dwindled himself to watch the cars down the street pass, the city was so unaware of everything. The country was so unaware of how it was being torn apart by the same people that were elected to take care of it. And he was so fucking angry, at everything and everyone, at himself. And so tired. Exhausted.

The phone rang behind him and he didn’t even flinch at the sound, even when practically no one called his house phone. He just let the machine get it.

“Hi, Javi, uhm…” he stiffened in place when he heard your voice and turned his head to eye the cradle “I know you probably don’t wanna listen to me right now but…” you sounded small, your voice sounded thin, Javier turned around and walked towards the phone “uhm, I wanted to apologize again and…” he felt like he couldn’t think, his mind was filled with your voice as if it were a fog that clouded his vision, he wanted to pick the phone up, he wanted to ask you where you were and tell you to come home to him, but his brain wasn’t letting him “I–I’m in Washington and I tho–thought…” his eyes closed on themselves when he heard you sigh and choke down a sob “forget it, uhm, I just… fuck…”

Javier looked at the phone, the sound of static still there, he pondered if he should just swallow his anger and his newfound pride and just pick up.

“I think someone will contact you about this and I just wanted to let you know I–I didn’t tell them anything about... us…” he heard you chuckle softly and he just stood there, rolling his hands into fists, waiting for you to say something else, “I’m sorry, Javi, uhm… I really think I did the right thing by telling you, I’m just sorry it had to be like this…” you sniffed on the phone and Javier sighed, “I guess I also wanted, uhm, to hear your voice… shit.” he closed his eyes and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” he said and gripped the receiver when the sound of the cut line replied to him.

Javier threw the receiver on the floor and sat on the couch, cursing at himself for his weakness and his hesitation altogether.

He rested his head on his hands while thinking on the few things you had said, if you were in Washington talking to the directives that meant they didn’t let you resign, that meant they were firing you. And you called him to let him know his involvement was minimal, because still after everything you were trying to divert the backlash from him.

God how he was tired.

That’s when he decided, he was going to do it. Not only for what you had made him feel, but because he just needed to leave back all the baggage he had been carrying with him for almost a decade. He needed to let go. He knew it, he needed to free himself of something that turned him entirely into a different person that wasn't even close to what he had been before, because no one else would do it for him.

And he had nothing else to lose. Absolutely nothing.

Once that thought occupied his mind, he finally could lay down on the couch and sleep.

The next morning Javier just re-dressed and called his journalist contact, he had decided, in his pre-sleep haze, that he was just gonna tell the truth. To everyone.

Just as you did with him, he was going to use all the information you had given to him to redeem yourself of your own baggage to get rid of some of his.

Even when he didn’t want to think of you, you were still helping him.

And the truth went out as he told it, and he let himself out of the whole situation by following your steps.

Until the ambassador called him into his office later that day and that time… Javier felt like he could tell the man absolutely anything.

He had nothing else to lose.

When he walked into the office Crosby was watching the news about his little interview. Javier walked and sat in across from him, feeling something that looked like freedom. But his mind was still reeling with guilt and loss.

“You didn’t really call the country that we’re guests in a narco democracy.” Crosby asked without asking, Javier looked at the man and shook his head once.

“Are you sayin’ that it isn’t?” he replied, looking at the ambassador tightening his jaw.

“The state department’s livid.”

Javier nodded a few times.

“Good, they’re responsible,” he let out and shrugged slightly “we all are.”

“Samper is not going anywhere.” Crosby let him know, quite exasperated. Javier dropped his eyes to the man’s desk.

“Well, at least people know the truth.” he said, including himself in the sentence. No more lies.

Javier saw Crosby shake his head and study the four walls that surrounded them, and he caught himself wanting to read him like you would be able to.

“I want you gone, Peña,” the ambassador told him, Javier guessed so “so do the colombians.”

“I understand, sir.” Javier replied and Crosby said nothing else. He looked at the ambassador for a few seconds and saw also a shell of a man. He guesses that it wasn’t so much the job that took a person’s humanity, but the context in which they do it.

He stood up and walked towards the door.

“You know…” Crosby called, Javier turned around “any aspirations you had for your career just got dragged behind the barn and shot.”

Javier licked his lower lip and allowed himself to look intently at the ambassador, the man looked at him with something he thought was pity.

“I resigned from the DEA this morning.”

Crosby stood up straighter when he heard it, Javier said it almost solemnly, and saying it out loud not only made it more real, but it really made him feel light as a feather for the first time since he was a teenager when he walked out of the ambassador’s office for the last time in his life.

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[xenteaart]

Apocalypse Chronicles

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Getting stuck in the apocalypse certainly has its ups and downs, and this is somewhat of a dairy with little glimpses into the life you two had.

Warnings: mentions of vomit

Note: This is sort of a part 2 to this fic. Also you can check out my other fics on this Commission AU right here!

Hopefully, this is a rollercoaster.

Day 548.

You and Five were currently on your way… somewhere. You rarely had any particular destination in mind, if you were being honest. Mainly, you were just moving from one place to another, seeking shelter and looking for food and other essentials such as clothes, medical supplies and many other things, most of which were really hard to come by.

It’s been a very long day, and a fairly hard one as well because the weather seemed to get harsher with each passing mile and moving one foot in front of the other was beginning to feel like an impossible task. So, since all of your focus and concentration went into walking, naturally, you’d stopped listening to what Five was saying about thirty minutes ago. Funnily enough, it took him that long to notice you completely zoning out and ignoring his passionate ranting.

“Hey! Have you been listening?” he asked bitterly, mostly just annoyed by the fact he’d been wasting his breath.

You quickly snapped out of your daze and blinked a few times.

“Charming.” Five added as he rolled his eyes. It was this very moment when you realized something and couldn’t help but smile widely, and he raised one eyebrow in confusion as to what could be making you so happy right now.

“Your voice is starting to crack,” you pointed out. He clearly didn’t expect you to say that, and it caught him completely off guard, making him forget he was mad at you mere seconds ago.

“My boy is turning into a man!” you exclaimed; tenderness, pride and just a tiny bit of sarcasm radiating from your voice. Five shook his head and scoffed at your observation as he was trying to conceal his embarrassment; rather unsuccessfully, you must say.

Getting stuck with a slightly older girl and going through puberty was, in his opinion, beyond humiliating.

You wrapped your arm around his shoulder and squeezed it lightly, pulling him closer as the sound of your joyful giggling was filling the air.

“Can’t wait till you start getting facial hair too,” you teased him and immediately felt his elbow kick your ribcage, the impact too mild to leave a bruise but certainly sudden enough to make you go “ouch!”

Day 1325.

“Five Hargreeves, you may wanna propose to me right now,” you screamed from a distance as you were still rummaging through the ruins of what used to be a grocery store. Oh, you knew he was going to love this.

After spending almost 4 years by Five’s side, you’ve come to know an impressive amount of facts about him, most of which were mundane and in the grand scheme of things, he would say, insignificant. But you didn’t see them as such and kept them all in mind, waiting for the right moment, and today was your lucky day.

“What?” he yelled back, a little confused by your assumption that seemingly came out of nowhere. Not that he didn’t like your company but marriage wasn’t on his to-do list quite yet.

As you awkwardly climbed over the debris, obviously carrying something in your hands but trying to hide it underneath your ill-fitted parka, you said, “Close your eyes.”

Five seemed hesitant, so you insisted.

“Come on, I know you don’t like surprises but it’s the nice kind, I promise.”

He finally complied and exhaled loudly as a means of communicating his growing impatience. You promptly pulled out a coffee pack from under your clothes, swept the dust off its surface in one quick motion and handed it over to Five.

“Look.”

“No way,” he opened his mouth, sincerely shocked you had managed to find something whole and completely untouched. And it happened to be coffee.

“I think I deserve at least a kiss on the cheek, wouldn't you say?” you grinned at how fast Five’s expression turned from grumpy and tired to excited and grateful.

In no time his tight grip found your waist, and he effortlessly spun you around, making you squeak in surprise as you clawed into his shoulders for support instinctively. His movements were smooth and confident as if you were light as a feather or rather weighed nothing at all, and you caught yourself really enjoying the warmth of his hands on your skin.

“You deserve a lot more than that,” Five replied with a sigh as he put you down carefully, his tone suddenly losing its playfulness and blossoming with something a titch more unexpected, and if you had to put a name on it, “affection” would be the most fitting.

Fortunately, the smudges of dirt on your skin were doing a very good job at hiding just how red your cheeks turned at the comment.

Day 1557.

“God, do you ever shut up?” Five snarled irritably, interrupting you mid-sentence, and your jaw dropped in shock. You could have sworn it felt exactly what getting stabbed in the stomach would feel like.

You were a very short-tempered individual and in any other context you would have snapped back, making some scathing comment and walking away with your chin up. This time - not a single word left your mouth as you were paralyzed by Five’s unfiltered hostility. You felt your eyes burn and immediately turned away to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek, too proud to let him see how much it hurt.

In your defence, you weren’t much of a talker before the apocalypse but it didn’t take you long to find out that being locked up in your own head in a deathly quiet world was not a good way to spend your days. So you kept talking, for both Five’s and your own sanity. It made things feel less real, however paradoxical it may sound. But, more importantly, it was a gesture of care.

You spent the rest of the day without saying a word, and, to your disappointment, Five wasn’t willing to break the silence either. Not talking, however, didn’t mean not looking after each other, and you, of course, made him dinner while he organized a safe place for you both to spend the night.

Since there was never a roof over your heads, you tended to sleep very close to each other, exchanging body heat to keep each other warm. At first, it was only a safety precaution but the habit slowly transformed into something more meaningful, somewhat of a necessity to know and feel that the other was still alive and breathing, still there, safe and sound.

As the two of you were lying in your improvised bed, which was essentially just a few layers of blankets on the hard and unfriendly concrete, you felt Five’s hot breath against the back of your neck as he cuddled you from behind. The big spoon.

“I deeply regret saying that,” Five whispered and sighed in frustration at his own self. He knew he royally fucked up.

“Please, don’t ever stop talking. I need it and I need you, okay?” he uttered so quietly that it was almost inaudible but you caught every word.

You clenched your teeth.

“Okay.”

Day 1866.

Birthdays were never a happy event in the apocalypse and you only kept track of them in order to know your own age.

Every birthday was nothing but another reminder of how much time you’ve spent trapped in this nightmare, and there was truly nothing either of you wished to celebrate.

However, this time you decided to make an exception. Five was turning eighteen and, despite the fact that your circumstances were far from perfect, it was a big day nevertheless.

To say you had limited resources would be saying nothing at all. No cake, no candles, no decorations, no anything to create an environment for having fun, and the only thing at your disposal was your contagious enthusiasm. It wasn’t much but it was surely something.

“Wakey-wakey, sleeping beauty,” you whispered into Five’s ear as you tapped on his shoulder, gently breaking him out of his sleep. He murmured something incoherent and placed his hand over his eyes, trying to escape the bright and intrusive daylight.

“Come on, I’ve made you a birthday breakfast,” which wasn’t at all different from any other breakfast but you believed a sprinkle of love that you so thoughtfully added was definitely going to make it taste a bit less like wet cardboard.

“We have plans for today,” you stated proudly as you were waiting for Five to get up. He glanced at you suspiciously, and you were quick to reassure him.

“You can do your clever math things till evening but after that we’re celebrating. There are two bottles of wine that you didn’t know about, and we’re going to drink them and dance. But not ball dance, properly drunk dance. No sadness allowed. Instructions clear?”

Five nodded, feeling a weary yet content and cheerful smile touch the corners of his lips.

Maybe, it wasn’t going to be a shit day, after all.

Day 2587.

“Come on, don’t you dare die on me, you idiot,” Five hissed after pressing his lips against your forehead and coming to a disturbing conclusion that your fever was only getting worse.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you laughed weakly as you looked up at him, and in less than a second a violent wave of nausea washed over your body and swallowed you whole, leaving you with very little chances to escape the overwhelming feeling. You’d been throwing up non-stop the entire day, and the severe dehydration you were suffering was becoming a genuine concern.

The two of you didn’t have the luxury of medicine, and most days you were doing just fine. This time, however, sleeping it off didn’t seem to be doing it for you, and Five was beginning to panic.

“Don’t say that,” Five said coldly, and you winced at the sudden change of mood, almost offended that he wasn’t trying to distract you from your mysterious illness with humor.

“I’m just worried about you,” he clarified as he noticed a gleam of sadness in your eyes.

It was absolutely killing him to see you like that - in pain, sick and exhausted, and he simply couldn’t afford to have “sad” on the list as well.

If there was one thing that Five despised more than anything else in this world, it would be helplessness, and now, as he was facing the invisible enemy that was threatening to take you away, he was feeling exactly that. Helpless. Useless.

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe through another urge to vomit, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth loudly, but the agonizing sensation didn’t seem to have any compassion or mercy for you.

“Okay, I can’t hold it back any longer,” you warned, and Five nodded in silent understanding.

He’d been sitting by your side and holding your hair all day, thoughtfully keeping it away from your face while you were restlessly puking your guts out, and, as you were doing so, not a single muscle on his face cringed in disgust. The only thing that was truly bothering him about this marathon of vomiting was how soon you were going to recover from it.

Thankfully, your immune system was strong enough to get you back on your feet without any external assistance, and you began to get better eventually. But even during your weeks of sickness there wasn’t a single day when you didn’t feel loved and cared for, and the precious moments of Five holding your hand during your feverish nightmares were going to be imprinted on your mind forever.

[iwriteforthetincanman]

Undetected

TRIGGER WARNING: THERE IS MENTION OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE (no direct or detailed description), MENTION OF DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, SELF HATRED.

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Requested by: @robin-the-enby​

Abe admired you for many different reasons. One of them being that you were a talented witch. Another being that you didn’t fall into any particular category of witch, you could do all kinds of magic and more if you wanted. 

But lately...you seemed a bit off. You’d lost that spark in your eye, you took less care of yourself, you threw yourself into your work effectively cutting yourself off from the rest of the team and...more sadly, you barely paid any attention to your boyfriend anymore.

Being the only significant other Abe had ever had, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Sure, he was well read in the romantic era of writing but that didn’t mean they had all the answers. He couldn’t just ask around, especially since the only ‘healthy’ relationship he could think of was HB and Liz. 

No, asking Red for advice about relationships, especially in this context, might be a bit too embarrassing for the poor fish man. He had tried talking to you directly, that’s what Liz had told him to do. But you were always busy, dashing about with ingredients or some sort of sacrifice to the spirits on your lips.

Gods above...when was the last time Abe even got to kiss you? 

Maybe work was getting to you...maybe he wasn’t the one at fault here. Perhaps...you were thinking about ending things? All the signs pointed to a breakup...oh no, Abe couldn’t handle that. Not only did you live in the same place but it would be awkward and just...heartbreaking. 

Ever since you started going out with him, you’d both gotten into a rhythm of what a real relationship was like. You’d both never been in one before so of course HB warned his blue friend that he had to be careful, calling it ‘puppy love’. Abraham felt like it was more than that. If the relationship could be properly nurturing and taken care of then maybe...just maybe he could see spending the rest of his life with you. 

Or at least the rest of your life…

That got him thinking. He had been busy overthinking all the signs and fretting over your relationship he hadn’t realised they were also a sign for something else...a cry for help. Standing up suddenly, Abe raced out of the library. He needed to see you immediately. He needed to take care of you, whether you liked it or not. 

He forgot the most important part of your relationship.

You look out for each other no matter what’s going on. 

Ever since he met you, he had felt a connection, some sort of force driving him to impress you and become his friend. A few years went by...and that relationship blossomed into something more. Something infinitely more beautiful than Abe could ever describe. 

Austen, Brontë, Hawthorne…

Shakespeare. 

All these romantic tragedies came crashing down in Abe’s imagination of your future together as he slammed his finned fists into your door. 

No response. 

“Y/N! Please love, I really need to talk to you, it's urgent!” 

Still no response. 

He contemplated knocking the damn thing down...but what if he was overthinking and you were okay? That would give you a reason to break up with him, coming up with an outrageous excuse for infringing your privacy…

But was he going to risk it all just because he’s worried about you? Because he, someone who has walked the earth longer than the average man, someone who has been considered to be the missing link, someone who had fallen deeply in…

“Y/N...please open the door, I’m worried about you and I was losing my mind over it. If I’m reading too much into this then I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving here until I at least get to see your beautiful face, your smile that puts the stars to shame...I’m only worried because I care for you and I-I’ve fallen deeply and passionately in love with you Y/N Y/L/N.” 

Quiet filled the air...embarrassment began to prickle underneath Abe’s scales as he realised he’d just confessed how he truly felt to a door of all things... 

Then the door started to creak. 

Your room was in total darkness, Abe could see that much, but what really scared him was how red your eyes were, how sullen and frail you had become...you had lost some weight he noted. He hadn’t held you in so long he couldn’t begin to tell when you started to wear more baggy clothing and refused physical contact so subtly. 

These were all warning signs and Abe had completely bypassed them.

The thing that scared him the most was the small blade you held in your hand. Sure, the BPRD allowed weapons to its agents. But this one hadn’t been issued by the BPRD…

“Y/N? My love...please put the knife down.” If Abe had tear ducts...he knew he would be crying by now. The love of his life had just been about to...gods, he couldn’t begin to imagine what would’ve happened if he had been just a moment too late. 

“Oh...Blue.” Everyone called him blue all the time. But the way you said it just then...no happiness or joy in your tone. It broke him. 

Throwing his arms around you, he didn’t care about the blade as it dropped carelessly to the floor, the further away you were from that thing the better. 

“My stardust, why didn’t you say anything? I...I would’ve helped you in any way that I could’ve...you know that right?” Abe’s soft tone came across as caring, helpful, loving. 

But the way the monsters in your head twisted and barbed the meanings of his words forced you to think that he was blaming you for what just occurred. 

“I...I didn’t think anyone wanted to help me...these voices in my head kept screaming all these horrible things. It hurt Abe. It hurt so bad. I didn’t even notice when I stopped feeling altogether.” You got the words out, but the way Abe heard them felt like pin pricks. How long had this been going on for? How long had you been suffering in silence while he just stood there? Focusing on missions and dates and what he was going to eat that night?

How dare he not realise you hadn’t been eating at all. 

“Y/N, listen to me, I’m only being strict with you now because I care and if you heard a single word I said before it’s because I love you. But you need help. If not from me then...a professional...don’t you want to feel better?” Abe attempted to bargain. 

“I...did for a while. Then it felt like things were getting worse no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many medications I started taking, or counselors and psychiatrists I saw. I felt like this dark place was just...growing inside of me. Trying to take everything I cared about away...away from me.” Your tone was watery, even though Abe was a literal fish out of water, he wanted to find some sort of way to stop you from sounding like that. 

He needed to see you smile again. No matter how long it took. 

“I wanted to end it all…”

These words broke him down even further. 

“Y/N...if you did that I don’t even know how I would recover. You, you’re so special and I love everything about you. Liz, Red...Professor Broom. They all love you...if Broom were here now, what do you think he would say?” Just the mention of the loving old professor caused a familiar, faded kind of pain to bloom in Abraham’s chest. 

“...He wouldn’t be happy with me that’s for sure.” The sulk on your face convinced Abe he wasn’t convincing you. 

“...Please Y/N. I know you’ve been trying for a long time now, but could you please just try one more time? If not for anything or anyone else then...for me?”

As you looked up into your loving, doting, blue, scaly, handsome boyfriend. All the memories of you two came rushing back. It was a very small dose of serotonin, but it pulled you towards the light all the same. Perhaps it was only a subtle grab of the hand, guiding you to a different kind of door. 

But you knew exactly who was guiding you back into the world.

“...For you? Of course Abe.”

[coureirsix]

supernatural season 16 episode 4 - “lifeline” |  ao3 link

it's roughly 11 PM on january 23rd when dean gets a call from eileen. he'd been out of the bunker with jack and cas for nearly three days; they'd taken jack to an amusement park. something about never seeing one before which reminded dean the last time he'd ever been to one, he was three years old and didn't remember a thing. which was fine, except that jack had wanted to go to six flags. he'd said something about finding old commercials with a dancing old man and the closest one was in kentucky. naturally, this wasn't an issue with dean. he'd driven farther for less, but on the way back he'd begun to realize that as he got older, the drives took more out of him. 

they'd gotten back earlier that afternoon and had spent most of the day lounging around until the exhaustion got the better of them at around nine. well, except jack. who could have just driven back to kentucky if he wanted to. cas made sure he didn't want to. so, it's saturday night, cas is breathing deeply beside him, completely asleep, jack is probably watching TV in the dean-cave, and dean has been drifting in and out of sleep for the past 20 minutes when his phone buzzes to the tune of the Call Me Maybe song. it's the tone he'd set up for eileen because, well, she never calls. so, when she does call, it's usually an emergency flare that's followed up with an explanatory text.

dean's eyes shoot awake and he watches the call miss as he waits a second for eileen's message to come in. 

dean, sam broke the tub. he can't get the hot water to stop running. SOS. please, my hair is disgustingly humid. his too. 

and dean laughs. it was an emergency, but the kind that didn't have him spiraling into a depression. that was... almost nice, he thinks. they have normal people problems now. he leans over to where cas is asleep beside him and cas' trained as well as dean is. he stirs awake with the movement and opens his eyes in a half-awake gesture.

“sam’s in trouble,” dean says with a smile. cas’ eyes shoot open, but dean’s demeanour doesn’t change, instead he follows up with, “he.. broke his bathtub somehow.”

cas squints. dean laughs some more and gets himself out of bed. he’s gotta find the little duffel bag that they’d dedicated to tools that didn’t include weapons of mass destruction. it shouldn’t be too hard to find. the last time they’d used it was when sam actually broke a door off its hinges. 

“i’m going back to sleep,” cas says, turning over as dean redresses. and dean laughs again. cas was grumpy when he was exhausted. it was endearing. 

it doesn’t take him too long to get ready to leave the bunker. he finds the duffel bag underneath the bathroom sink and before he knows it, he’s pulling out of the bunker’s vicinity in the impala and headed toward sam and eileen’s place. the issue with them is they live roughly 45 minutes away. he texts eileen back, letting her know he’s on his way. 

and dean thinks, as he drives over. that it’s his birthday tomorrow. well- he checks his phone, it’s basically his birthday. sunday january 24th, 2021. he didn’t think he’d live this long. he was the answer to the universe now, technically. 42. he looks down at his hands on the wheel. they’re worn. they’re the hands of a tired man who fought multiple apocalypses, multiple archangels, god himself. and won.

he takes a deep breath and thinks about sam. he loves his little brother more than he can ever explain. it’s unhealthy, probably, how much he’d done to save sam from everything. death, despair, sam himself that time he lost his soul. dean was there and willing to bleed for whatever sam needed. and he knew sam would always do the same. it was comforting. and even moreso now that they’d decided to take some time to really asses what was best for either of them. sam let himself want his apple pie life again. and it was the happiest day of dean’s life to see his little brother decorating the house he’d leased with eileen.

dean doesn’t hunt fulltime anymore. he’ll do an odd ghost job here and there, but mostly he mans the phones. he’s now FBI Supervisor Agent Harkness, police chief Richard Grayson, at cas’ request Texas Ranger Dean Swift, and at jack’s request Marlo Bridgers.it’s a living, he thinks. he still helps out other hunters and he passes off the bigger jobs to the younger people that’ve unfortunately ended up in the hunting life. 

mostly, though, he and cas have been making up for lost time. they go out on dates. dates, like embarrassing 15 year olds. he’s taken cas to the movies, they’ve gone for walks at the mall. dean held cas’ hand under a tree and it was the most incredible thing in the world. 

it’s embarrassing, it’s enough to make himself blush at the memory of it, but it’s also nice in that same breath. it brings him a sense of peace like he’s never fully properly known. because it’s about trust. and not trust in cas, not trust in himself, hell, the trust has nothing to do with either of them. it has to do with the fact that dean has finally let himself trust that things are going to be okay. that no matter what happens, he’s going to be okay.

and that’s what he thinks about when he’s sitting across from cas at the baskin robbins. that they’re safe. that things are okay. because they are, dean’s earned that much through his own tears and blood.

the sound of wind hitting the impala as he drives down the highway closer to sam and eileen is the melody to the memories of his life as it has been since they got rid of chuck and jack put god’s power back into the universe.

he pulls into the driveway of sam’s cookie cutter house. he’s in the middle of the driveway but dean doesn’t care and he knows neither sam nor eileen would care either. besides, the impala outshines the two normal cars they drive. he grabs the duffel bag and heads for the door, waiting for a second before the door clicks and he sees eileen in a crack in the door. he smiles at her.

“dean!” she says, visibly excited. dean keeps his smile on his face and waves, unsure why she’d be so excited that he’s here at practically midnight to fix her bathtub. she reaches out to grab his wrist and pull him into the house. she leads him through dark down the little hall that dean knows leads into the bathroom. dean notices there is no humidity in the house.

“eileen? is everything-” dean starts to ask when the lights flick on, blinding dean for a second before it clicks that it’s a party. it’s a party at midnight for him. 

he sees jody, donna, alex, claire and kaia. sam and bobby among several other hunters dean had come to know. it’s a full house, yet dean notices the lack of jack and cas. there’s a stack of presents in a corner behind the kitchen, a cake with a single candle on the table. claire is approaching him with a party hat in her hands and an evil look on her face. dean glances over at eileen, who’s beaming at him. she knows what she did. led zeppelin comes through a little speaker in the corner, not too loud, but loud enough that its ambiance music now. 

dean lets himself get wrapped in a hug from claire and then lets her put the hat on him before sam approaches him.

“this your idea?” dean asks. sam grins, but shakes his head.

“no, actually. i wanted to do it tomorrow morning. show up at the bunker with everyone, but, i know someone with worse intentions than me who said that tricking you into coming here at the moment of your birthday would be something you couldn’t see coming,” sam opens his arms and dean lets himself fall in. he hugs his little brother back and the emotions from earlier come back. he and sam were alive. dean’s greatest achievement in life was keeping sam alive and now here he was, reaping the benefits.

he goes through similar motions with everyone. jody gives him a hug and then leans up to kiss him on the temple. donna squeezes him so hard he swears his insides are flattened. 

after a few moments of getting caught up with everyone, sam sits him down at the table where the cake is. dean rubs his hands, ready to light the candle in it when sam makes this “uh-uh” sound. dean looks up at him in confusion when eileen brings over a pie with those large novelty number candles set into it. 42 sure was a year. 

dean sits there in the obligatory hot seat as everyone gathers around and sings him happy birthday. it’s awkward, it makes him blush and tears well up in his eyes, although nobody can really see it through the dimmed lights. and he looks around and his smile saddens a bit. he should have told cas to come with him. did sam not think to text jack?

he goes through the motions and cuts the first slice of the pie for himself and passes off the pastry to sam and eileen who take care of passing out the rest of it and the cake that’d been there. dean looks around, hoping cas and jack had been right behind him as sam brings him over a whiskey. it goes down ridiculously smooth. sam mentions he ran one last credit card scam for $3,000 whiskey for this. dean laughs and asks for another.

the night winds down fairly quickly, given it’s nearly three in the morning by the time everyone’s settled down into a less partying mood. dean ends up sitting outside with sam in some lawn chairs from walmart in sam’s cookie cutter back yard. eileen’s gone to bed and most everyone has gone home by then.

“you ever think we’d live this long?” sam asks.

“nope,” dean says without hesitation, “sammy, you died when you were twenty two. i died at twenty seven? twenty eight? god, i don’t even remember.”

“and those were just the first times,” sam says with an incredulous laugh.

“shit,” dean laughs with him, “yeah.”

“and we got out,” sam says. there’s a satisfaction in his voice that makes every single time dean died or did anything stupid for sam worth it. it’s a tone that dean knows means sam is happy. and that’s it, that was dean’s goal.

“we did,” dean agrees, taking another sip of the whiskey, “we beat hell, we beat heaven, we beat purgatory, we beat god.”

“kicked god’s ass,” sam affirms, “we get to choose what we want to do now. we write our own destiny now.”

dean reaches over and outstretches his glass. sam meets him halfway and they toast to that. dean watches sam pull his phone out and send off a quick text message. probably eileen telling him to go to bed.

they sit in silence for a while. and sam’s phone vibrates. dean watches him check it and not respond. trouble in paradise? he doubts it, but he doesn’t really know every single thing about sam anymore.

“i know you’re gonna tell me to shut up, but i do have to say, dean. thank you,” sam looks over at him.

“for?” dean asks.

“for everything, man,” sam has this look on his face like he’s going to cry, “you raised me. you were always there for me. im thirty eight, nearly sixteen years overdue if you hadn’t sold your soul to save me. i’m who i am because of you, and i like to think i’m in pretty good shape. and you, dean. i’m so proud of you. you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met. and i love you, and i’m happy that it was you that i got to have be my big brother.”

dean actually cries, but he turns around so that sam can’t see it. he composes himself in a second and turns back. he doesn’t have it in him to fight sam on the emotional distress this is causing him. instead he says, “thanks, sam. i’m glad i got to be your big brother, too.”

sam’s phone buzzes again. he checks it again and this time does respond. he sighs and looks over at dean again, “i gotta go. eileen says the bed is too cold.”

dean huffs a laugh and nods, “go fix that.”

sam nods and gets up. dean hears the door that leads back into the house slide open and then slide shut. and dean is left with himself at the end of it all. he sighs. he’s happy, he thinks.

and then he hears an unmistakable flutter. 

“dean!” he hears jack yell. it’s louder given it’s three in the morning and most people in this neighbourhood are asleep.

“i’m so sorry,” jack says, rushing up to dean’s side, “we were planning to be there for the cake but it wasn’t ready and we kept trying to fix things-”

“fix what?” dean asks, curiously. he’s not mad.

“the-” jack stops short, looking behind dean. and dean realizes the missing piece of his birthday puzzle has to be behind him.

and he is. the angel castiel is standing behind dean on the cement part of the patio a few feet back, wearing one of dean’s old band tshirts under his trench coat. and there’s a book in his hands. 

“happy birthday, dean,” cas says, a little smile on his face.

dean gets up. his foot nearly kicks the whiskey glass he set down with the speed he gets up at. and he doesn’t waste any time in grabbing the sides of cas’ face and pressing the most heartfelt, loving, tender kiss dean has ever given anyone in his life. there’s a warmth that always seems to be radiating from cas and dean wants to stick to it like a leech.

when he pulls back, cas keeps the little smile on his face and hands dean the book. it’s a photo album, he realizes, once he takes it and opens it. there’s- there’s baby pictures of him there. things that were surely lost in the fire in lawrence. as he flips through the album, he finds pictures of him and sam growing up. things nobody had ever photographed before, he’s pretty sure. at one point he finds a picture of him at age twelve, lying on roof of the impala.

“cas,” dean asks, in completely disbelief, “where did you get these?”

“i did!” jack says coming from behind dean in an awkward hug from behind, “i can still tap into the power of god if i want to. it wasn’t hard to pop into different points of your life and just take a picture.”

dean turns back and pulls jack forward to pull him into a better hug as he laughs. that’s somehow the craziest thing he’s ever heard. 

“happy birthday, dad,” jack says. and he tenses against dean.

“did you just call me dad?” dean asks.

“no,” jack lies. 

“right,” dean says, a grin on his face that he looks up and notices that cas shares.

“well, it’s kinda creepy that you existed for a second at different points in my life, but i love it, jack. a walk down memory lane, shit and all. i love it, thank you, son” and he leans down to press a kiss against the top of jack’s head.

“this what kept you?” dean asks cas as jack lets go and says he’s heading inside.

cas nods and he says with a little shrug, “it seemed like a kind gesture. i sort of gave him points to land on. that way he didn’t land in the middle of a hunt or something. i’m sorry, dean.”

dean shakes his head and goes to set the book down on the chair he’d been sitting in and he walks back over to cas. where cas is standing, there’s a cement step between the cement patio area and the grass that dean and sam had been sitting in. it makes it so cas is a few inches taller than dean. 

dean finds himself turning around so that cas can come around him, head coming to rest on dean’s shoulder and his arms coming around dean’s middle.

“thought you were supposed to be sleeping,” dean says with a mocking tone.

“and miss your forty-second birthday?” cas asks, turning to press a kiss to the side of dean’s face. they look up at the sky and dean wonders how exactly he got there. there’s a feeling in his chest that he doesn’t understand, but he knows what it is. it’s peace, it’s happiness. 

“i have a speech prepared for you,” cas says softly. his hands tap at dean’s stomach and dean brings up his own hands to cover them.

“right, right. something about how my eyes glitter like the moon?” dean asks, his tone is still jokey.

“something like that,” cas says, “and moreso how you’ve been the world’s lifeline and how i’m so happy you’re finally thinking of yourself.”

dean’s heart sinks a little as cas continues.

“you know sam loves you, you know your friends love you. you know that i love you with the wrath of heaven behind me. and somehow that doesn’t compare to the happiness i feel now that i know that you finally love you.”

dean’s face goes completely red. the warmth is different from the warmth of the next kiss that cas places against his cheek again. 

“thank you,” he chokes out, voice breaking because he’s started crying again, “i... i don’t have heaven. but i love you with the power of a guy who fought god.”

cas laughs, “and won,” he adds.

dean’s blush comes down a little and he leans back just a little, so he can turn and meet cas full on in another kiss before turning back to look out at the normal neighbourhood sam’s found himself in. 

“do you think we could do something like this? cookie cutter house. you me and the kid?” dean asks.

“if you think you’re prepared to let the bunker go, i don’t see why not,” cas responds. 

the thought of turning the bunker’s lights out for good makes dean feel a certain kind of way. still, though. now it’s a thought that’s popped into his head. who knows. 

for now, he’s content to stand there with his angel, looking out at the other backyards, at the stars while their respective kids sleep in the house. 

[outshinethestars]

The Single Greatest Act of Hypocrisy in European History (Hetalia fic)

So, the Berlin wall was down, everyone was reunited, everything was awesome.

Prussia himself was perfectly happy, far happier than he ever expected he could be (Prussia didn’t know why he wasn’t dead, and he didn’t know if he would die, and he didn’t know if his living was hurting Germany somehow, and he didn’t know if his being alive meant that something catastrophic was about to happen to Germany, and he had never been perfectly happy and at peace before and he didn’t know what to do with himself and-).

However, in this modern world of happy perfection there was one great, glaring imperfection .

Hungary and Austria’s love life.

Or rather, lack thereof.

When Prussia had asked Hungary about it (yes, really, he’d asked, okay maybe not directly, but she’d known what he meant) she’d said something about times changing and moving on, and how they were their own nations now and who knew what the future would hold, a relationship could complicate things.

And it had been quite a long time since they were married, and it honestly hadn’t been the happiest of marriages then.  It wasn’t like Hungary needed Austria, seriously, it was Austria who needs him, but Prussia could tell by the way she laughed about it that she still loved him, and sure she was perfectly fine without him, but she missed being with him.  She just wouldn’t admit it.

And of course, Austria, the idiot, had no idea.

The problem, in short, was communication.  Austria and Hungary needed to talk about their feelings (don’t laugh).

So, this wasn’t the first time that Prussia had done this.  It wasn’t even the first time that he had done it to Austria.  Prussia had, in fact written countless fake love letters to Austria over the centuries, posing as all sorts of people, much to other people’s anguish and Prussia’s own amusement.

Prussia had never, however, done this with good intentions before.

It somehow made the whole thing feel morally iffy.

But Hungary was pretending that everything was fine when it wasn’t, and Austria was pining.   He wasn’t even trying to pretend not to be pining, because Austria, the melodramatic sop, let his emotions dribble all over the place.  Not, like, loudly, because he was a gentleman, or whatever.  But his pining drooped everywhere, annoyingly obvious if you knew him at all, which Prussia unfortunately did.  He was pining so piningly that his whole country was covered in Essence of Pining, a miasma so thick that it threatened to leak over the border. Ew! Gross! No!  Something had to be done.

Enter the Awesome Prussia.

Prussia was very good at what he did.  The handwriting forgery was not the easy part , but it was the part that Prussia was so practiced at he could almost do it in his sleep.  He’d forged the handwriting of almost every nation in Europe, as well as nations outside of Europe, people who weren’t nations, etc.

The trickier part was the actual content of the letter.  Prussia had written these before, but never like this.  No, this time it needed to be sincere .  No clever insults that are only apparent on second or fourth reading, no subtle undertones that imply that the sender is an idiot, only deep, genuine heartfelt love, the love that both parties felt, but were too stubborn to come out and admit.  Idiots.  (really, don’t.)

The letter to Austria was by far the easier of the two, even though Austria was about as attractive as a damp rag.  Less attractive, actually, damp rags are useful.  Still, it wasn’t too hard to write a fake love letter to him, firstly because Prussia had done it before, and secondly because because as far as Prussia could tell Austria didn’t have the good qualities God gave damp rags, any good qualities he could think of to mention were ones Hungary had told him about, and finally because he knew Hungary pretty well, so impersonating her wasn’t too hard or, like soul-crushingly horrifying or anything.

Hungary, on the other hand, had innumerable good qualities, and Prussia had no idea which ones of them Austria actually appreciated.  And furthermore, writing to Hungary involved impersonating Austria.  It involved getting into the headspace of Austria, it involved getting into the headspace of Austria deeply, amorously in love with his best friend.  Ew!  Yuck!  Who would ever want that ??? Also, Prussia had only written Hungary a fake love letter exactly once.  It was supposedly from Poland, the fallout was fantastic, and Hungary had made him promise, on pain of terror, Never to do that again.

… This was for a good cause, though.  Hungary would forgive him.

… … Right?

He didn’t really need to send a letter to Hungary.  She could see Austria’s egregious pining as well as anyone else.  But still, there’s a difference between knowing and being told outright.  Just because someone knows you love them, doesn’t mean you don’t still have to tell them.  Austria was a wimp.  (...)

Anyway, Hungary wouldn’t be any less furious with him for writing a fake love letter from her, he’d never done that before.  Might as well go all in.

The letter came on a sunny spring morning.  The sky was blue, the birds were singing, everything was beautiful and as it should be.

Hungary’s heart stopped a little when she saw Austria’s familiar handwriting on the envelope.

It was a love letter, and it was so incredibly romantic and heartfelt, that she teared up a little in spite of herself.  She read it through, and then read it again.  

Some highlights include:

“I think of you often.  I think that I have never stopped thinking of you, you who have always held my heart in your keeping.  But now that there are no barriers between us, no physical ones at least, I cannot seem to think of anything else.  My thoughts are always turned towards you, and it breaks my heart to wonder if you ever think of me in return.”

And:

“Though it’s embarrassing, I’ll admit that I spend hours of every day staring out my window, the one that faces you.  I miss you so very dearly.  All my music is mournful, yearning music now, I try to play more cheerful things and my heart is not in it.”

It concluded:

“I don’t know if you have feelings for me still.  I know that we were not married long, and our marriage was not always a happy one. I only write this to tell you how I feel, and to ask: are you willing to try again?  

If you have moved on, if you have no romantic feelings for me, I will understand and accept it.  I cannot promise not to be hurt, but I know such feelings are selfish, and I will hope and endeavor to one day be a better friend to you than I was once a husband.

Yours eternally,

Roderich Edelstein.

Hungary thought of all the reasons she had to not to pursue a romantic relationship.  They all seemed so hollow and empty in the light of Austria’s letter.  She wanted to speak to him in person.  She called him.

Austria, meanwhile, had received his own letter.  He had suspected it was some cruel joke of Prussia’s at first, but upon reading it all doubts left his mind.  The letter sounded like Hungary, it felt like Hungary, and it was such a very kind letter.  He didn’t think that Prussia was capable of such kindness even as a joke.  He had read the letter five times and paced around his house with it held tightly to his chest, as if he could inscribe its words on his heart.  He hadn’t dared to hope.   He had no idea what to do with himself now.  His phone rang.

“Hello,” he said, not sure yet if he was relieved by the distraction or annoyed by it.

“Hello Austria?”  It was Hungary, her voice uncharacteristically shy, “I would like to speak to you.  Could I come over to your house this afternoon?”

“Yes, of course, yes!”  Austria said.  In his heart, he was agreeing to a proposal of marriage.

“I read your letter,” Hungary said, taking it from her pocket.

“My letter?” said Austria, “But you wrote…”

Both of them realized in the same moment.

Prussia will Pay , Hungary thought.

It was like a swooping empty feeling, the realization that all those things in her letter, all those things that had made her heart warm and her eyes tear up, had been empty, hadn’t been real at all.  And almost worse than that, it was a betrayal.  She would never have dreamed that Prussia would do this to her, not like this, not with something he knew she cared so much about.

“Give me yours,” she said to Austria.  Wordlessly, he handed it to her.

She began to read and… She couldn't be angry anymore.

Whereas the letter Prussia wrote impersonating Austria was sweepingly romantic, hers was much more frank.  It detailed her feelings, all of them, as if Prussia had looked inside her mind and scooped them out of her.

“But what do you see in him,”  Prussia had asked her once, it must have been close to a century ago now.  Here were all her answers. Sprinkled in lovingly between all her present hopes and fears.  All the things she’d told him in conversation, and all the things in between that she hadn’t said, but he had recognized all the same.  He had remembered all of it, understood all of it, and put it all into words for her.  She thought it might be, in it’s twisted, Prussia sort of way, the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.

It ended thusly:

“I’ve told myself so many times over the past few years that I don’t need you.  And in all honesty, it’s true that I don’t.  But I think that we, as nations, sometimes get too swept up in what we need.  We forget that it’s alright to want things, that what we want matters too.  I don’t need you, but I want to be with you.  I’ve decided that what I want, what we want, is important enough to overcome any difficulties that might come.  

With love,

Hedervary Erzsebet”

He’s right,   Hungary thought, he shouldn’t have chosen for me, but he’s right.

Austria cleared his throat cautiously, “You read this,” he said, holding the letter she’d received in his hands, “and then you came to see me?”

Hungary smiled at him.  What did it matter that it had taken Prussia’s meddling to get here, they were here now.

“I meant this,”  Hungary said of the letter she’d just finished, “every word.  I didn’t write it, but I should have.”

“I would have written this too,” Austria said, “if I’d gotten up the courage.”

“Please, as if you could come up with something as romantic as “ your smile is like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, it warms me to my very soul,”’  Hungary laughed. Now that she didn’t feel quite so lied to, the whole thing felt ridiculous,  “Do you really stare out your window in my direction for hours every day?”

Austria blushed, “That could have been an exaggeration.”

“It could have,” Hungary agreed , “but was it?”

“No,” Austria admitted.  Hungary grinned at him.

“You’re adorable,” she said.

“How did he know about this ,” Austria said, hints of outrage coming back to him, as the situation truly sank in.  He pointed to a part in the letter that read,

“ I wrote a piece for you.  I didn’t mean to, it began as something else, but as I wrote it, and as I played it in my house, in the loneliness, every note was for you.  So I scratched out the title and wrote For Hungary at the top of the page.”

“I imagine he broke in and went through your things,” Hungary said.

“He did break in and steal all my underwear once.  And,” Austria added thoughtfully, “Someone has been cleaning the house while I’m not looking.  I thought it might be you?”

“Austria, I love you,”  Hungary said, and oh how easily she said those simple words now that it felt as though her soul had been laid bare, “But I don’t love you nearly enough to be that deranged.  Apparently Prussia does, though.”

“Prussia,” Austria sniffed, “is simply deranged.  I think I’ll start making messes on purpose now.”

“No you won’t.  I’ll be coming here often, and I refuse to be in a pigsty.,” Hungary said.

Austria sighed.  “I suppose I won’t then,” he said,  “Really, though what was the point of all this?”

“The point,” Hungary said, “Was that we, or, well mostly me, were being ridiculous, and he put a stop to it.”

“What, and there’s no ulterior motive?”  Austria scoffed.

Hungary shrugged, “You can keep reading the letters until your eyes bleed, but I doubt you’ll find any.”

Austria shook his head,  “My love life was rescued by Prussia ,” he said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from the ignominy.”

Hungary laughed, “I won’t tell,” she said, “It is an irony, though.  Prussia would die before he’d admit he has emotional needs.  Now, come play me the music you wrote for me.  I’ve been wanting to hear it all day.”

[alchemist-shizun]

Do cats exist? Debate.

Or: The Welcome To Night Vale au nobody asked for

Word count: 1,823

Taglist: @bookwormscififan @suffering-is-my-comfort-zone @pistachio-lan @pushussmollworld @be-more-chaotic @quietlypondering

Warnings: None that I can think of, there are references to the 4/9/16 episodes.

Characters: Virgil, Deceit, Logan(Mentioned)

Relationship(s): Implied Loceit (we have Dee pining a lot)

Summary: The town has a new favorite mascotte! That's right everybody, give it up for Virgil the black cat, about to charm his way to the conquering of the entire solar system. But, for now, he's sleeping and eating all day and giving out occasional love advice.

A/n: Me? Still refusing to give Deceit a name and just rolling with that? More likely than you think. Just so you know, at some point I wrote "Carlos" instead of "Logan". Another funny thing: I sent the first paragraph to a friend (Hi Gaia if you're reading!) that knows nothing about ts nor wtnv and demanded I absolutely sent her the fic when finished so, peak weirdness everybody. I had a lot of fun writing this, I kinda got in the vibe and just went for it, I could even say I'm somehow proud of how it turned out! But enough of me, I hope you enjoy this little piece 💖

✾

What was a perfectly ordinary day for Night Vale, with its wondrous citizens conducting their quotidian tasks and duties, the sun setting down maybe a slight bit later than the other days and the occasional pet kidnapped by ancient forgotten underground tribes that none should know about and that don't actually exist, couldn't end in anything but a perfectly ordinary night.

Deceit closed the door behind himself with a satisfied sigh; another eventful working day for the radio station had just passed and he let himself wander around the building in search of the bathrooms. Because, you know, sometimes they liked to change places.

Of course, his mere intentions were freshening up a bit and going home once and for all for the night, only that a looming figure above him darkened the room by covering the single source of light on the ceiling and caught his attention immediately.

When he looked up, he was met with a sleeping cat seemingly suspended in the air right next to the sink, which was his destination. Now, don't get him wrong, he wasn't exactly a cat person, but he wasn't a monster either and, well, he was going to wake the poor tired creature if he were to make too much noise!

Walking softly, Deceit made his way to the sink, eyeing carefully the floating creature.

Thoughts of the latest ongoing events traveled through his mind every so often mixing up with other inexplicable ones and just as much frequently going back to that amazingly stunning scientist.

Wasn't it remarkable how washing your face pulled you into an ineffable stream of thoughts in a matter of miserable seconds? Truly one of the quirks of the existence of life.

Deceit started walking back to the door when he heard shuffling in the air and low growling. He turned back to see the black cat on his back, still hovering above the ground, then rolling to get a good view of who had dared to intrude in his new territory.

He had to admit, he didn't realize it at first, but he would've gone back to that moment in the future and he would've labeled it as the exact instant he got raptured by those fascinating different coloured eyes, two little sparkly and attentive irises in the middle of ashen fur. The left one looked like a glacier, not that he had ever seen one close enough to determine its existence, but he could sense a chilly breeze at the sole thought; the right one, though, he wasn't sure. At first glance, it seemed green, only for it to then change to a light brown and, eventually, the more Deceit forced his sight, the more he thought he was seeing them at the same time in a weird yellowish combination. He decided to stop staring, as it wasn't polite.

Nothing of the animal's aura felt threatening, or alarmed at all. It was simply there, bouncing in the nothingness of the room, waiting for Deceit to make any kind of move with no particular expectation.

So he paced forward and gently reached for the cat with one hand: it didn't move, except for the slow calculated heaving of its chest with every breath. Deceit's hand reached the top of its head and, as soon as they shared contact through little caresses, the cat began to purr in contempt and closed its eyes, rubbing its head against his fingers as it decided it could trust him. A half-smile appeared on his lips.

« Oh my! » one of Deceit's coworkers stormed into the bathroom as soon as they saw the scene. « This is the most adorable being I've ever seen! »

Soon enough, a small pack of people was huddled around the cat as he (one of them stated he was, in fact, male) solely licked his paws and was offered food and water.

Now that was good news for the radio; Deceit was aware of the little classification of information that had been going on for millennia, thanks to Erodotus. First priority was a witnessed action, second place was for the action that a person heard from a witness and third came the determining of which could be categorized as potentially true events and which were definitely made up.

Sometimes there was a thin line between the two.

So, yes, as a witness, as soon as he got the chance, he was definitely going to update the town on their new claimed pet.

In a matter of weeks, he had become everybody's best friend and the town's listeners were always more than eager to be informed of how the adorable chubby boy of the radio station's bathroom was doing! Deceit himself couldn't stop sneaking out at times to give him a couple of treats.

I mean, come on, who could even resist those cute demanding eyes? Khoshekh's glare was too much to bear, he kept on getting what he wanted every single time. Gee, what an intelligent and charming cat he was. Who were humans against him? He could have ruled the world if he wanted. Was he going to? You could perceive a certain sparkle in his eyes ...

Maybe.

One day.

But at that time, he only cared for his precious treats and he was fine that way.

Five weeks had passed from the last update on the wonderful feline, when Deceit shut the door of the bathroom behind himself in a movement that reminded him much about the first time he saw Khoshekh.

His face fell in his hands.

« You need to know this. » Deceit's half-muffled voiced traveled through his fingers and reached the cat's ears. Something shifted in the air, but he was too busy pacing around the room and looking at the pavement tiles to realize what had happened.

The light of the room just a bit darker, the shade of the cat just a bit bigger.

Deceit trailed off, gushing about how Logan had called him and how he had acted like a total dumbass, but hey, if that was the price he had to pay to talk to him, he was more than willing to embarrass himself even more.

« For real, though. Can you believe I just said "neat"? Who even says it anymore? » he pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard a humming noise, a little too human to be coming from a cat.

Then again, Deceit was too lost in auto-commiseration to notice.

« Why don't you just ask him out? »

Wait, what?

He had been sure to close the door earlier, he hadn't heard none coming in at all, was he that lost in thought that he-

When his eyes turned to the door, there was none standing in its place, or coming either in or out.

Oh gosh, oh no.

Deceit sighed deeply. Did someone really turn invisible again?

« Over here. » the voice came back from behind him, which caused him to turn to the actual source.

Or not.

In front of him there was a boy definitely younger than him, completely dressed in black clothing and purple patches on his too big but definitely comfortable hoodie, which matched his hair color.

Now, where did he come from?

« Where's the cat? »

« What cat? There's never been a cat. »

Deceit notices the boy was floating mid-air and he had heterochromia. A blue eye and a greenish-brown one.

« You're absolutely right, my mistake. »

The boy crossed his legs and shrinked in his baggy clothing, letting his body be comforted by the softness of the materials.

« So, why don't you do it? » he repeated, looking down on him with a seemingly sleeping expression. Where those his dark circles right under his eyes?

« Oh, I don't think I could ever muster up the courage. »

« And yet, you're able to talk to the entire town at once. »

As much as that was true, Deceit felt deep down that there was no way one could compare Logan's stupendous existence with the one of an ordinary Night Vale citizen. There was really no way.

« He said he didn't need to meet me. » he retorted, clearly just making up excuses at that point.

« He did call you, of all people, though. »

Deceit's eyes widened at the realization. « Oh my god you're right. »

His head fell back in his hands as he replayed the entire conversation in his head for the billionth time, a quiet snicker from the boy filled the silence that was left.

The boy watched him talk to himself about infinite possibilities of where that was probably going.

Then, as if on cue, as if some kind of deity was watching down on them and deciding that was the best moment to strike with a train of coincidences, with a smile on their face so wide it might have fallen from the sky at any time, Deceit's phone rang again.

« It's him! » he exclaimed, surprise in his eyes. Another call? Was it Easter? Christmas came early?

« Go, have you privacy, it's almost time to go back to your room anyway. » how the boy knew that he didn't know, but he complied and excused himself, only to find his working place right next to the bathroom door.

It seemed that day was starting to favor him.

The boy in the bathroom waited.

He floated around the room, mostly by the sink, occasionally changing position. No other worker came by, apart from that lover boy.

He remembered him as the one to give him the most food and care, which would have explained his willingness to change form in his presence.

He had just started to drift back off to sleep, his head barely brushing the wall, when Deceit stormed back in with a huge grin on his face. Was that even a normal facial expression?

« I may have a date. »

« See? What did I tell you? »

He had barely time to speak as Deceit started explaining with a painstakingly accuracy every detail of the phone call and how Logan's voice sounded, so much that the boy could have perfectly imagined it and believed to have already heard it once.

« I need to get ready. » the man started making his way toward the exit.

« Isn't it tomorrow? »

« Yes, but I don't think I'm going to handle it if I don't mentally prepare myself for this. »

« Touché. »

After exchanging their goodbyes (and some food), Deceit was halfway through the door when the boy called out.

« And please, for the love of the glow cloud, tell them my name is Virgil! »

And Virgil hoped he had heard him, despite being lost in his own thoughts and scenarios.

He truly did hope.

[itsakpopalypse]

Kim Sehyoon : Astrology ask- How he would be romantically

“hii 😊 can you do an astrology reaction like chan’s but with Sehyoon? thank you so much in advance!”- @naomik1999

Of course ! glad to do so !! Here you are ! I hope you like it !

A/N there will be 18+ included below the cut !!

Okay !! Starting with pure fluff and explanation of his overall chart

 this baby

oh my god he is so precious

okay so we know he is a Taurus sun

but did you know he has a LEO rising? 

lowkey means he has this strong confident presence that intimidates people yet draws them in

he is so lively and interesting to watch that you are like👀👀 

and he seems like he would be outgoing on first glance

but his sun and moon balance out that strong firey energy SO beautifully

with a Taurus sun he is somewhat more calm and will have a very steady aura

like you get near him and feel more grounded just for it

beautiful fixed earth energy in action let me tell you 

as you know fixed tends to mean unmovable and it is lucky for him he has a more mutable moon or that would eventually cause conflict

his instinct is still probably to dig his heels in but he will come around quickly

let’s talk what a Taurus sun means for his relationships

ever met one? they are . so . Cuddly by nature, 

Maybe not first meeting someone but when they he becomes comfortably used to a person  he will go at the hugs and physical affection with his whole chest 

expect

forehead kisses  (oh my god im sofft)

hand holding

picking you up for absolutely no reason except that he wants you c l o s e r

tend to be very physical, artistic and sexual by nature.

so expect lots of touch 

please take care of his heart he is not going to want to express it in words but Taurus’s are soooooo easily hurt. 

they are slow to anger so don’t expect any fights really

he will be logical and intelligent

but if you do fight he may take a while to cool down after

Pisces moon.

i have said it before I will say it again

SO MANY FEELINGS

okay so with Pisces especially in moon this means a few things

sensitive 

they give people SO many chances to break their hearts

you will have to be so supportive 

he will need to be held sometimes

you might be the lil spoon

its cute

but we know he thicc thicc

so you know it’ll probably translate to him laying his head on your thighs and staring up at you with stars in his eyes

because he is so s o f t for you

Pisces moon is so romantic 

he will be constantly trying to make you smile because it will be his whole world

god the PAINTINGS he will do of and for you

Sehyoon is so deeply artistic and he expresses himself through his art

so especially with the Taurus sun being a hindrance on putting his feelings into words he will find a way to do it through his art

expect lyrics and paintings

he might do your nails when they are chipped

try to learn how to do your make up and hair

he is so affectionate i am getting so soft

i don’t normally mention it but his Mercury is notable 

since his mercury is Taurus it means he will be practical, and very

very

dexterous

that will come back in the 18+ section i just needed to put it out there cause BIG OOF

his venus is Aries, venus controls how one reacts to love relationships of all kinds 

Aries is a dominant sign so yes, Sehyoon is a soft man full of emotions who is a bit shy, but expect that once he knows what he wants he will go for it

he will probably be cautious though, as a true Taurus always is, so he will probably try to figure it out through your friends before he directly asks you out

drops hints for a short while before just being like 

hi

then blush like mad and giggle and hide his larger frame behind Byeongkwan who totally is there for emotional support don’t @ me

He will peak out and say something complimentary or just random and then when you begin to answer he will decide to rip the bandaid off

“I like you a lot can I take you out please?”

Cause he is a gentleman okay

will then find so much time for you

naps

he will cuddle 

big spoon sometimes but I see him as more of a lay you down full bodied on top of him so he can feel your lips pressed to his neck and you can have soft whispery conversations like that

will kiss the top of your head between words

ask questions that seem strange’

but he just wants to know everything about you

because he wants to understand how to make you happy always and that’s the best way for him to do it

analyze analyze analyze

dates will be pretty quiet and chill

he will do whatever you want because he doesn’t need to be in charge of those things 

he would be the sweetest most boyfriendy boyfriend the world has ever seen and you will honestly constantly be amazed (hes not even my a.c.e bias im just in my feels from his chart it’s so beautiful and cohesive)

His N Node is Sagittarius and this is notable because it will mean he is pretty adventurous with his love

that’s coming up again later too jot that down

okay and im gonna ramble cause he is so so s w e e t please

will not stop talking about you to the members

guys did you know that my S/O is ….

the most WONDERFUL person in the world???

they are like yes you told us that 10 mins ago and will likely tell us again in 10 more minutes

S P I C Y time

istg it was so hard to pick a gif there are so many sexy gifs of this man LAWD

WOOOP let’s get to it 👀👀👀

I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW

everyone calls him a SERIOUS KINKY DOM

and I won’t say that ISN’T there…..

what I will say is it isn’t likely his GO TO 

okay I will explain

his Aries rising and venus means he will have some FIREY dom-y moments

but his Pisces and Taurus placements will tone it down a bit

now if you are INTO that he is happy to please

but just expect that on occasion he wants you to make him weak

have you seen any dance ever that he is in the man goes from powerhouse to trembling in the grasp of another

black and blue fancams do yourself a favor if you haven’t

okay star stuff again

this man

is so affectionate. his hands are EVERYWHERE always 

he will time things incredibly well

remember when i talked about the importance of his mercury being Taurus too??

yeahhhh

so this means he is amazing with his hands

expect thorough teasing from him

this is not a drill

he is going to make you cum at least 2 times before his cock comes near you 

i don’t make the rules

have you seen his tongue??? hands vs tongue  I am thinking he is going to do both but there might be times where he does one or the other

he loves loves loves

to hear moans

not so much a praise kink but damn it does stroke his ego

he wants you so incredibly blissed out that you don’t even think about what noises are coming out of your face 

h i p control

the dancer hips on this man honestly I cannot continue because im going to burst into flame lawd

we’ve all seen the package so while he is not lacking in size by my estimation, he is also SO precise

O V E R S T I M 

okay so just cause he isn’t a ‘dom’ always doesn’t mean he isn’t always kinky

he is kinky

i do think he is a BIT more into pain play than some of the other members would be but I don’t think he’d go for anything that is TOO rough

spanking with a leather paddle is a yes, anything too much harder is a no

he just wants you at peak pleasure the whole time and he LIVES to know he is the one doing it 

What can I say Aries are low key ego driven and he will use your pleasure to make him feel like a god or demon in the sheets

and that’s fair cause he likely is one

remember that Sagg north node? yeah that’s back

adventurous 

so expect some bondage both ways

he would love for you to put a blindfold on him and make him experience everything through touch

will let out the prettiest whines but also will be so in to it

loves to be teased but will never ask you to reciprocate oral unless you’re doing character play

if he HAPPENS to be domming well watch out cause he is damn good at it. 

biting

yeah that’s a thing 

honestly as a rapper i see him having a huge oral fixation

there will be times he will leave a box on the bed with lingerie and you will see a note telling you to put it on and come to the bedroom

and when you come out he is going to LAVISH you in attention

unwrap you like the best gift he has ever recieved

that thing his eyes do where they darken and he looks like he could get you on your knees with a single word

yea that too

but instead he just strips you and doesn’t miss a single inch as he explores you with his tongue and teeth

WHEW

not a lay down the rules type of dom

maybe one or two but mostly he just wants to control and move your body for your own pleasure

on the flip side when he wants you in control its like

he has had a hard busy week and he is stressed

so he will give you a hint he wants to be babied

will get your attention and make it clear but probably be too embarrassed to ask outright

but when you do lord he will be so pleased

ride his face or his cock he’s good with either he just wants you to touch him and body worship him the way he does you

that is when praising him will work in your favor

but not just by telling him how hot he is

he wants you to talk about how you love him

where you love him

what he does to your soul and bare it for him

those deep conversations which could be had over coffee but if you are kissing your way down his body he will not be able to stand it

he is so in love and it shows

hey bouncing out of that think of this

artist Sehyoon puts down a tarp one day and stips you naked. he begs you to let him paint you and he does, but not on a canvass

no he has body paint and his hands are the brush and he literally covers you in him so viscerally and emotionally

it starts beautiful 

a color here and there outlining things he thinks make you so unique

you’ve got stretchmarks? scars? moles?

he amplifies these and makes you see your “flaws” as as beautiful as he sees them

full length mirror in front of you once you are enhanced he grips the base of your neck gently in his hand from behind and meets your eyes in the mirror 

his hot wet whisper in your ear that this

this was the peak of his creativity

that he would never be able to replicate on any other format the beauty he sees in you

and somehow even though it’s this beautiful sweet moment his eyes do the thing and you know you are in for it

expect the flutters to turn to fire as he puts a bit of pressure into that hand, just enough to get your attention. you know what comes after

expect to be much messier by the end and hes throwing out whatever clothes he bought tbh

aftercare isn’t gonna be a thing much 

he works hard on you and he is tired

will cuddle forever after you will be gross and he will not care showers and cleanup are for after he has had his NAP 

*I hope you enjoyed it!! feel free to send more requests anytime! I love peaking at these charts and delving in !

[ladywinchester1967]

Close Your Eyes:

The Prequel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fiona Gerdes (OFC)

Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst.

A/N: This is the prequel to my one shot “Close Your Eyes” and I hope you guys enjoy it!! Unbeta’d all mistakes are mine, pics ARE NOT.

Wanna Catch up?

Close Your Eyes

It was as if the paperwork gods wanted to troll the ever loving hell out of me, as I was clearly not meant to hold on to a single document that day. Files and loose papers fell out of my hands as I tripped and fell to my knees in front of god and everyone else at the Avengers compound. I quietly swore up a storm as I adjusted my glasses on my face and started to pick up my things.

“Here, let me help you Miss.” a male voice said.

Having my back turned, I couldn’t see who was talking to me.

“No, I’ve got it,” I told the helpful stranger “I’m having A DAY today!”

The voice chuckled as I turned and saw a man wearing black and white Nike shoes, black pants, a black hoodie that was zipped up with a red t-shirt poking out of it and a black baseball cap covering his hair and most of his face.

“That so?” He asked and handed me the files he had gathered. Our fingers brushed for a second and a shudder went down my spine.

“Thank you,” I told him “really, you didn’t have to.”

“Can’t just leave a lady stranded.” he told me as he extended his hand and helped me stand back up.

“Well, if I see a lady, I’ll let know know.” I told him and tried to maintain some kind of sense of dignity. The guy smirked and I heard someone call my name.

“Fiona!” Tony Stark yelled as he crossed the lobby and I shuffled the papers in my hands.

“Mister Stark!” I exclaimed “I have those reports you asked for and I’ll drop them off with Pepper in a moment.”

“Thank you,” Tony said and his eyes met Bucky’s “I see you’ve met one of our newest crew members. Barnes, Fiona. Fiona, Bucky Barnes.”

After our quick introduction, Bucky and I shook hands and I excused myself, partly from embarrassment and the other half was because I had a deadline to meet.

After that day, I noticed Bucky around more often. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was aware of his presence now or maybe he was just at the compound more often, but I always seemed to be able to find him no matter what.

One night, I was working late when someone cleared their throat and I let out a scream of fright. When I realized it was Bucky I said

“Give a girl a warning next time!” as I clutched my chest.

“Sorry!” He exclaimed “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” I told him “just have a bell around your neck or something.”

He laughed at the comment and I noticed his hand was behind his back. “What cha got there? More files for me to drop?”

He laughed again, a sound I realized I couldn’t get enough of.

“No, not quite.” He said and handed me what looked like a to go, Styrofoam plate.

“What’s this?” I asked as I took it.

“Swiped it from the kitchen before Sam and Banner finished all of it.” He said with a smile.

I opened the lid of the plate and saw some chicken with vegetables, a little bit of fruit and mashed potatoes.

“What’s this for?” I asked with an amazed smile.

“I thought you might be hungry because Pepper mentioned you guys were working late tonight and-“ he stopped, taking a hand through his hair “I don’t know? Fuel for the midnight oil I guess?”

I watched his cheeks and ears go pink as I smiled.

“Thank you,” I told him “that’s so kind of you. I really, really appreciate it and the food smells delicious.”

“I thought so too,” he added “I had some before I brought you your plate.”

“I could use a break,” I told him “care to sit with me for a little while?”

His eyes shone and he said

“I’d like that, a lot.”

That was how it started; the more I got to know Bucky, the more I liked him. He didn’t talk about his past or his metal arm much, and truth be told, other than the occasional whirling or clicking sounds, I barely noticed it. Bucky was from a different time, I quickly realized, by the way he treated me. He actually came by when he said he would and called at the time he said he would. He always pushed my chair in and held doors open for me.

One day, I passed him in the hallway near the jet hanger and he was in full battle gear including combat boots with a gun at his hip and an assault rifle strapped to his back. How metal arm shone in the early afternoon sun, and he smirked as he saw me approaching.

“Off on a mission?” I asked as we met one another in the middle.

“Just some recon,” he stated “for now that is.”

I looked him up and down, he looked good in battle gear.

“Okay,” I said “be careful okay? We have a date on Monday.”

He chuckled and said

“You got it doll face.”

I groaned

“I HATE that nickname and you know it.” I told him.

“I think you like it,” he teased “you just don’t want to admit it.”

“Buck!” we heard a voice yell and we both turned to see Steve Rodgers eyeing us and smiling “C’mon, time to go.”

“I’m coming!” Bucky yelled back

“That’s what she said!” We heard Tony yell from inside the ship.

I laughed and Bucky shook his head.

“I’ll be careful.” He told me.

“Good,” I said “because I can’t have a date that’s limping because they acted foolish on a mission.”

“No foolishness doll face, I promise.” He said and winked at me before walking away.

Hours later, the team still hadn’t returned and I was getting anxious. I normally would’ve left the compound and gone home by now, but I had this nagging feeling that I needed to stay behind. I walked into Pepper’s office and she looked surprised to see me.

“You’re normally gone by now.” She pointed out.

“I know,” I told her “I guess I’m just jumpy is all.” She raised an eyebrow at me and I sighed “It’s just that-“ I paused and groaned “Bucky’s out there and-“

“You want to know if he makes it back okay?” Pepper asked and I nodded. She let out a small laugh and said “I know the feeling, I’m the same way until Tony gets back.”

“There’s a difference,” I pointed out “you and Tony are married, Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Friends?” Pepper asked “Are you sure about that?”

“Well yeah, I mean what else would we be?” I asked, avoiding the obvious. Pepper gave me a knowing look and I bit my lip “I just want to make sure he’s okay. That’s all.”

“If you say so.” Pepper told me and pulled up a screen with a smile on her face “the jet is back.”

I followed Pepper down to the hanger where Natasha and Clint were pulling the jet into its proper spot. The hatch opened and the Avengers slowly walked out with Bucky, Sam and Wanda on their heels. My eyes met Bucky’s and he smiled. He looked dirty, battle weary and he had a cut on his face, but other than that, he was unharmed. He made his way to me and I hugged him.

“You okay?” I asked as both of his arms wrapped around me.

“I’m fine.” He told me and pulled back from me as I looked up at him.

“Come on, let’s get that cut looked at.”

“It’s just a scratch doll face.” He chided me.

“Call me that one more time and I’ll punch you in the jaw,” I told him “please let the nurse look at that cut.”

“You heard the lady Buck,” Steve said with a smile “infirmary, now. Captain’s orders.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and we walked toward the infirmary together.

The nurse in the unit cleaned Bucky’s cut and sent him on his way. He and I walked in silence for a little while before he asked

“Aren’t you usually gone by now?”

I nodded and said

“Just checking to make sure you were okay.”

“You waited here?” He asked “For me?”

“Well yeah,” I told him with a shrug “I mean, that’s what we do right? Look out for each other?”

He stopped walking and so did I, he looked stunned.

“What?” I asked as I looked at him.

Moonlight streamed through the big glass windows of the compound, bathing both of us in a milky, limited light. Bucky’s eyes searched my face before he took two steps closer to me. We were inches apart and I realized how heat it was to breathe in such close proximity to him. I looked up at him as he bent his head down and he kissed my lips.

My body seemed to go into shock, I hadn’t expected him to kiss me, but it felt like everything around me faded away except for him and I. He cautiously wrapped me into his arms, not holding me tightly as I opened my mouth and kissed him again. I cupped his face in my hands, his beard scratching my palms as we kissed over and over again. When we finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead to mine.

“Are you okay?” He asked me quietly.

I nodded and looked up at him.

“I’ve been waiting for that.” I said with a grin.

He smiled and kissed me again, his arms wrapping tighter around me, pulling my body flush with his. Without warning, he pulled back and said

“We better take this some where else.”

“Why?” I asked

“I can hear Sam and Steve coming.” He said and made a motion down the hallway.

“Where?” I asked, panicking.

“My room.” He said and we scampered down the hallway and away from the approaching intruders.

Once inside Bucky’s room, he locked the door and flipped on the light, he has clothes and shoes strewn about, like he had taken them off and forgotten to put them away, but his bed was neatly made.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, raking a hand through his hair “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“It’s okay.” I told him “If it makes you feel better, my apartment kinda looks the same.”

“It does.” He said and took off his combat boots. Once they were placed to the side, he strode over to me. “I believe we were in the middle of something.”

“Yes, we were.” I said and took my heels off, loosing a few inches of height in the process. I wrapped my arms around his neck and said “I believe I was about right here.”

He nodded and then added

“And I think I was right about,” he placed his hands on my waist and dipped his head down “here.” He kissed me deeply and I ran my hands over his broad shoulders. The tips of his fingers dug into my hips as he opened his mouth, kissing me again. I sighed as we kissed, he was truly an amazing kisser, soft and strong all at the same time as he pulled my body flush with his. He kissed down my chin, to my neck and back up again as my fingers tangled in his long hair.

“Bucky,” I sighed as she kissed my cheek and then nibbles on my ear. I moaned and dug my fingers into his shoulders. I moved backward and toward his bed. When I hit the edge of the bed, I sat down, pulling away from him as both of our chests heaved. I started unbuttoning my blouse and he asked

“Are you sure?”

I nodded as the last button came undone and he crouched in front of me.

“I’m sure.” I told him.

He pushed the shoulders of my blouse down my arms as he kissed me. The garment was discarded to the floor, both of his hands winding around my waist and up my back. The warmth of his flesh hand was in deep contrast to the cold of of his metal hand, but it was a delicious combination. He quickly unhooked my bra and pushed the straps down, covering my shoulders and collar bone with kisses. I reached for his vest but couldn’t figure out how to take it off.

“Take this off for me.” I told him as his fingers trailed down my spine. He pulled back, still crouching in front of me as he seemed to take it off in a flash. Bare chested, I could see where metal met flesh and the deep scars that accompanied it. I let my bra fall and pushed it to the side as he climbed on top of me, pinning me between him and the bed.

“Still okay?” He asked, his chest rapidly rising and falling.

I bit my lip and nodded, I bunched my skirt up around my waist to accommodate him between my legs, my hands going up both of his arms and cupping his face again.

“I’m fine,” I assured him “I’m just fine.”

He gave me a half smile before kissing me again and pressing his bare chest against mine. I let my hands roll up and down his back as we intensely kissed, his tongue swiping across my lips. I opened up as his tongue slid over mine. I nipped the tip of his tongue and he groaned into my mouth, his hips snapping into mine. He unzipped my skirt and I slipped it off, casting it aside with my blouse. I was suddenly embarrassed being so naked in front of him, every scar, bump, trace of cellulite and stretch mark coming to my mind. None of that seemed to matter to him, he kissed down my neck, chest and belly right to the apex of my thighs. I watched as he kissed along the waistband of my panties and then tugged them down and off of me. He opened my legs up and kissed from the inside of my knee and up to where I wanted him most.

“Bucky,” I whined “please Bucky!”

I felt him grin against my skin as he draped both of my legs over his shoulders. He licked my slit and I arched my back, the sensation driving me crazy.

“You taste like fucking candy doll face.” He told me as his tongue laved over my clit.

“Oh fuck!” I moaned “Fuck, that feels so good!”

He sucked my clit into his mouth as I raked my hands though his hair, keeping him in place. My hips moved with his mouth as I moaned louder.

“Oh god, god!” I moaned as my hips rolled against his mouth “Like that, god, oh! Like that!”

The more I encouraged him, the more he gave me, he licked through my my soaking folds, his beard scratching my inner thighs as I arched my back, my mouth falling open and my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I couldn’t make noise any more, all I could do was twitch and roll under him as the orgasm came crashing down on top of me with my blood rushing in my ears. I let go with a cry, gushing into his mouth as I clamped a hand over my mouth to quiet my screaming as I fell over the edge. He kissed my belly and chest, up to my neck and said

“Fuck doll face, I’ve never heard a girl moan like that before.”

“You’re,” I paused, thinking of the right words “frighteningly and freakishly good at that.”

He picked his head up and smirked

“You haven’t seen the half of it.” He said with a wink. He sat up and unbuckled his pants, pushing them down and off along with his boxers. He erection stood long and proud against his belly as he covered me with his body.

“Still okay?” He asked, flicking the head of his cock through my silken folds.

“Yes,” I moaned “Yes, still good.”

He sheathed himself fully insides me, both of us moaning as he struck true, hitting my sweet spot.

“Oh fuck, Bucky!” I moaned as I raked my hands though his hair. He cried out and started to move, his thrusts hitting me where I needed him. He moaned and cried out just above me, his mouth close to my ear, enough to send chills down my spine. I looked up at him, touching my forehead to his. His eyes opened and he gave me a grin, then kissed me heatedly.

“Bucky!” I whined against his mouth “Oh fuck, fuck!”

“Like this?” He asked, thrusting harder.

“Yes!” I cried out as I hooked my arm around his neck “oh fuck, just like that!”

His metal fingers intertwined with mine and he pinned me to the bed, thrusting hard into me as I fiercely kissed him, my hand splayed across his shoulder. He groaned into my mouth and squeezed my hand with his metal one, the sound of his snapping of his hips against mine filling the room as we both moaned.

“Fi, oh god!” He moaned as his flesh hand snaked up my chest and then pinned my free hand by my head. He kissed me hard, his hips drilling into me as I cried out against his mouth. We both reached our climax, calling out each other’s names as the peak hit both of us and we went crashing over it together. He came inside me with a lust filled cry and I threw my head back, feeling the explosion in every cell of my body.

Afterword, Bucky pulled me under the sheets with him as he held me in his arms.

“I should get up and go home.” I told him as he kissed below my ear.

“Do you want to?” He asked innocently and I laughed.

“Not in the slightest.” I told him “especially if you keep doing that.”

“Good,” He said “because I want you to stay.”

I grinned and laid on my back, facing him. He brushed the knuckles of his flesh hand on my cheek and kissed my forehead.

“You’re gorgeous doll face.” He told me with a tender look in his eyes. I let a grin break out across my face as I tucked his hair behind his ears.

“Hey, you’re no slouch yourself there.” I told him with a smile.

He picked my hand up, kissing the back of it, and then grinned at me.

“Go to sleep pretty girl, I’ll be here when you wake up.” He told me

I yawned and nodded, snuggling into his chest. He held me gently, as if I were made of glass, and then kissed the crown of my head.

Two years later.......

“So Thanos has all of the Infinity Stones?” I asked.

“All but one,” Steve told me “we’re taking Vision to Wakanda to get the Mind Stone taken out of his head. It’s a delicate procedure but their technology is far more advanced than ours.”

I nodded and looked at Bucky, who was leaning against the jamb of our dining room. After a year of being in the Avengers, he’d decided he had enough of the hero life and had retired. We’d bought a house near where Clint and his family lived out in the country, somewhere nice and quiet where both Bucky and I could relax. Now, the relaxation had been cut by Steve Rodgers showing up at our door step. Bucky was needed out on the battle field, and I knew he’d never leave his best friend and former team hanging. I sighed, looking from the rendering that Tony had sent with Steve, to Bucky, and back again.

“What do you think?” I asked, looking at Bucky.

“That it’s suicide.” He told me and Steve as he stepped forward “but when have I ever left you on the battle field alone?”

Steve smiled and asked

“So you’re in?”

Bucky looked at me, seeing the anguish in my face, then back at Steve, then at me again.

“It’s just a mission doll face,” Bucky said as he cupped my face in his hands “I’ll be back before you know it.”

I pushed his hands away and walked out of the back door, tears streaming down my face. I knew this day would come. I knew he’d go back and help Steve when called, but I couldn’t help but feel like this was different. Something in my gut knew this was wrong.

Bucky gave me a few minutes to cool off before coming to find me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

“One more mission,” he told me “then I’m done. For good, I promise.”

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep James Buchanan Barnes.” I told him as I wiped tears from my face. He kissed my temple and turned me around to face him. His ice blue eyes blazed as he pressed his forehead to mine.

“I told him this is it,” Bucky said “one more and then I’m retired. No more leaving you, no more hero life. I’m done, my life is here, with you.”

I put my hands over his as I sobbed.

“You promise?” I asked

“I promise.” He told me and kissed me deeply. When the kiss ended, even though I had a feeling of dread in my stomach, I nodded.

“Okay,” I told him “but this is the last one.”

“I know.” He answered.

I watched as Bucky packed all of his battle gear and I helped him pack all of the guns and ammo he would need.

“One more time for me,” he said as he handed me a pistol “show me how it’s done.”

“Clip,” I said and held the clip up, jamming it into the handle of the gun “safety off,” I clicked the safety off “cock,” I said and cocked the gun “then shoot.”

“Very good.” He said and kissed me.

“You better hurry back,” I told him as I put the safety on the gun “especially because I have a surprise for you.”

“Do you?” He asked as he slung his bag over his shoulder “then I’ll be sure to get back as quick as possible.”

“You better.” I told him and grabbed him by the collar of his shorts kissing him hard “I love you James Buchanan Barnes.”

“I love you too Fiona Renee Gerdes.” He told me and kissed me again.

We walked hand in hand to the door, where Steve was waiting, already in full Captain America gear.

“Bring him back in one piece you hear?!” I shouted to Steve, who nodded.

“I hear!” He yelled and waved.

“What’s my surprise?” Bucky asked.

“You’ll find out when you get back.” I told him “No hints until then.”

“Yes ma’am.” He said and gave me a wink. We kissed again and he stepped off the porch toward the Audi that Steve was standing by. He gave me one last wave and then jumped into the car with Steve. I waved back and watched them go. I waited until the car was gone to look down at my belly and said

“There goes our hero little one.” As I let my hands roam over my stomach.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hope you guys enjoyed that and as always, your kind feedback is most appreciated. Please like and share with your friends and MAYBE hit that follow button?? If you feel so inclined??

See you guys for THE SQUEAL which will hopefully be posted sooner rather than later!!

Interested Parties:

 @loudherobanditgarden @hellrose45 @hyunjoonieeuniverse @booboo-icu@mogaruke @mogarukes @lets-love-little-me @clo-heda @marvelousbarnesss@marvelousbarnes @roonyxx @algud @your-average-wallflower@emoryhemsworth @gabcats5

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Love Actually. (Brendon Urie/Josh Dun x Reader)

For: @K-Winchester_02 on Wattpad

Request: (To start off, I’ve got nothing against Debby or Sarah, I actually really like them. So in this one we’ll just pretend they kinda don’t exist.) The reader lives alone and she’s been kind of down most of Christmas Eve, then she calls over her best friend Josh to hang out if he isn’t busy. He goes over, they talk, laugh and do best friend stuff like movies, popcorn, and cuddling. Brendon (the guy who has secretly liked her for a while) comes over because he didn’t want her to be alone on Christmas. She’s happy to see him (she’s secretly liked him too) but then he sees josh and gets the wrong idea, he gets kinda sad and she gets confused, a little but of drama happens, the best friend saves the day, and it can end all cute like cuddling in front of the fireplace or something……sorry if the request was super long lol

 REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

 *

Note: Nice to know that you guys still trust me with Brendon/Josh x Reader stories lmao

Having no family around meant that the Christmas season was not exactly something you looked forward to, because everyone can agree that being alone during Christmas was not an ideal scenario.

True, you wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Day, since your friends had decided to do a ‘Friendmas’ this year. But choosing to spend the 25th with friends meant that everyone had dedicated Christmas Eve to spending time with their families.

Everyone except you, of course.

So there you were, vegetating on your sofa under a mass of blankets while some or other generic Christmas movie played on the TV. Blowing a raspberry, you started fiddling with your hair as you reached for your phone.

The clock showed that it was only 4:45pm and you groaned at the thought of suffering through loneliness for the rest of the day. You remembered that your best friend Josh had told you that his flight back from Columbus would be arriving at 2:45pm; that was two hours ago and you were certain that he was all settled from his trip already – since he’d only been gone for two days – so you decided to take a chance and call him to see if he wanted to come over and keep you company.

Much to your delight, he answered your call on the second ring and readily agreed to join you, even citing that he’d bring a hoard of food along with him. Sure enough, when the doorbell rang a mere twenty minutes later, you opened the front door to see Josh with a mountain of snacks in his arms and a Christmas hat on his head.

“Ho, ho, ho,” he smirked.

You folded your arms and cocked an eyebrow. “That’s not a very nice thing to call a lady.”

He pretended to look around. “I don’t see any ladies anywhere.”

You dropped your jaw and slapped him on the shoulder; he laughed and pushed his way past you and into the living room area.

“So,” he dropped the snacks on the coffee table before falling into your spot from earlier, “what are we going for? Home Alone? Elf? The Grinch?”

“Anything, as long as it’s not Love Actually,” you rolled your eyes and plopped down next to Josh, nudging him to move up a little and pulling the blanket over you, “That movie makes me want to throw up.”

“Hey, it’s a great movie,” he defended with a frown.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, opening up a bag of candy and popping some into your mouth, “if you have someone to be with. To us single folk, it’s utterly depressing.”

Josh smirked cheekily at you. “So what you’re saying is that you just need someone to date, and then you’ll be perfectly fine with watching the greatest Christmas movie ever made?”

You tossed him a tired look. “Yeah, sure.”

“What about Brendon?” he suggested, reclining into the plush material of the furniture. “Don’t think I don’t notice the way you check him out. You’re totally into him.”

Despite feeling extremely embarrassed by your friend’s words, you knew that you couldn’t deny them, so you clicked your tongue and struck him against the arm again.

“Shut up. Yes, alright, he’s incredibly hot and I sometimes daydream about those puffy lips buuuuut,” you took a break from your ramble to breath deeply and arch your brows before dropping your shoulders and sighing sadly, “there’s no chance that he feels the same, so there’s no point in any of it.”

“You don’t know that,” Josh scoffed, looking you up and down, “He could be on his way down here to confess his love to you right now, for all we know.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah,” you snorted, shuffling on the sofa so that you could snuggle into Josh’s side, “And in which fanfiction is that, exactly?”

~

Brendon was on his way down to your house right now to confess his love to you.

Okay, not exactly.

The whole ‘confessing his love’ part wouldn’t be happening (not today, at least), but he was on his way to you, along with take-out from your favourite restaurant, a bottle of your alcohol of choice, and some dessert from the best bakery in the city.

A little while ago when your friend group had been discussing their plans for Christmas Eve, you mentioned that you would be spending it alone, and his heart broke a little.

He didn’t want you to be alone, especially not during the festive season, so he made the decision that after he spent some time with his family, he’d be showing up at your door to keep you company.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the fact that you would already have company.

Brendon parked his car next to the sidewalk and gathered all of the goods he’d brought before starting up the pathway to your door. He couldn’t stop the enormous smile on his face, or the uprising of butterflies in his stomach that accompanied the thought of seeing you; it happened every time.

He reached out, about to press the bell, when he happened to glance through the window and catch sight of something that made his smile disappear instantaneously and that killed every last one of the butterflies.

With a harsh swallow, he turned and started making his way back to his car.

~

With narrow eyes, Josh manoeuvred his head to try and better see through the window from the awful vantage point that was your sofa.

“(Y/N), hey, I think I saw Brendon outside,” he nudged you with his elbow, still looking through the glass.

“Ha ha,” you droned, “very funny.”

“I’m serious!”

With a slight frown, you looked at Josh – who was in fact serious – before sighing and getting up to check. You opened the front door and stepped outside just in time; Brendon had opened the door to his car and was about to climb in.

“Brendon, wait!” you called out to him, quickly stepping off the porch and onto the pathway.

At the sound of your voice, his head snapped up; the butterflies returned the moment he laid eyes on you. Slowly, he shut the door and shuffled forward to meet you halfway up the path.

“Hi,” you greeted breathlessly, smiling up at him.

“Hi,” he couldn’t help but smile back.

“What are you doing here? I mean, don’t get me wrong – I’m… always happy to see you but… shouldn’t you be with your family right now?” you quizzed, a bit confused with his presence.

“Yeah, I, uh,” he cleared his throat and creased his brow, “I left early ‘cause I knew you’d be alone and well… I didn’t want you to be.”

You felt your heart grow two sizes. “Oh, Bren, that’s so sweet,” you gushed, smiling again.

“But I see you’re already on a date, so I’ll leave,” he nodded marginally and took a few steps backwards; you reached out to grab him, shaking your head.

“A date? No. God, no. Josh and I are best friends, nothing more. I asked him over because I was bored. But if I knew you’d be here, I woulda kicked him to the curb a long time ago,” you chuckled, and Brendon sighed in relief.

“So, that means that you’re available?” he grinned, tilting his head down and looking at you through his lashes.

You grinned back. “One hundred percent.”

“Wonderful. I’ll get the food.” He jutted a thumb over his shoulder, at the car.

You nodded and waited for him to collect the eats. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and you reached for it, seeing that there was a text from Josh with a picture attached.

He had lit the candles that you only kept around for display purposes and had turned down the lights, ensuring that the living room was basking in a romantic glow. You noticed that the sofa had also been pulled out to its sleeper-couch form, and the blankets and pillows had been propped up in a way that made it perfect for cuddling. And as an added bonus, the little jackass had even set up Love Actually on the TV.

You shook your head in disbelief and smiled to yourself as you read the message.

Huh, would ya look at that? Who woulda guessed that I’m a psychic? ;)

Merry Christmas, (Y/N). Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. x

 _______________________________

Thank you for reading x

Taglist:

@darknessdancing

@raversam

@username-number-01834

@untilyouburnallofthewitches

@underscoredarcy

[reconditarmonia]

Dear Equivalent Exchange Author

Hi! Thank you for writing for me! I’ve just completed my first watch of FMA:B and am obsessed, and very excited for the first single-fandom exchange I’ve done.

I’m reconditarmonia here and on AO3 (and have been since LJ days, but my LJ is locked down and I only have a DW to see locked things). I have anon messaging off, but mods should be able to contact me if you have any questions.

Riza and Roy | Ishval | Briggs | Olivier/Izumi

General likes:

– Relationships that aren’t built on romance or attraction. They can be romantic or sexual as well, but my favorite ships are all ones where it would still be interesting or compelling if the romantic component never materialized.

– Loyalty kink! Trust, affectionate or loving use of titles, gestures of loyalty, replacing one’s situational or ethical judgment with someone else’s, risking oneself (physically or otherwise) for someone else, not doing so on their orders. Can be commander-subordinate or comrades-in-arms.

– Heists, or other stories where there’s a lot of planning and then we see how the plan goes.

– Femslash, complicated or intense relationships between women, and female-centric gen. Women doing “male” stuff (possibly while crossdressing).

– Stories whose emotional climax or resolution isn’t the sex scene, if there is one.

– Uniforms/costumes/clothing.

– Stories, history, and performance. What gets told and how, what doesn’t get told or written down, behavior in a society where everyone’s consuming media and aware of its tropes, how people create their personas and script their own lines.

– I have no idea how a Simoun AU/fusion would work for any of the (military-related, I guess) prompts, but if you know that anime, hell, go for it.

General DNW: rape/dubcon, torture, other creative gore; unrequested AUs, including “same setting, different rules” AUs such as soulmates/soulbonds; PWP; food sex; embarrassment; focus on pregnancy; Christmas/Christian themes; focus on unrequested canon or non-canon ships.

A note: I’m generally fine with “/” ships where the fic doesn’t contain a kiss, overt declaration of love, etc. I’ll trust that you wrote it with shippy intent and don’t expect you to force in something that wouldn’t fit the story.

—

Female Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye; Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang

I love the loyalty kink in this ship - the trust and competence and stoically hidden but very very intense feelings, the willingness to risk oneself or the other person, or to stake a lot on the other person’s competence (and willingness to hurt or sacrifice the other person because their shared cause says it’s right, too, all the times that comes up), the fighting together in tandem. I have an unbelievable need for f!Roy fic that plays up all the dynamics I love in canon: a dangerous mission (or intelligence-collecting situation) where their deep familiarity/trust/awareness of each other’s presence and fighting style and communication come into play (god, that bit in canon where Hawkeye shoots two guys right over Mustang’s shoulder), or where they worry about each other’s safety? I love the intimacy of their work relationship and personal history, on levels from casual to very intense, and would love it with sexual tension in how they notice and appreciate each other's physicality and presence and competence (hands??? muscles?)

Also potentially interesting: some kind of document or documents (newspaper, history book) or other outsider perspective on President Mustang and her decades-long professional relationship with Riza Hawkeye, so close they even live together/travel together/entertain guests together, neither of them ever married, that sort of thing.

I’d also be up for canon-gendered fic with absurd levels of platonic smarm: cuddling (for warmth or otherwise), bed-sharing for plot reasons, helping with clothes due to injury or for a fancy event, quasi-domestic working together, etc. as well as with the said loyalty kink.

When reading genderswapped characters, I have no strong preference for character names, with a slight preference for sticking with their canon names; it’s up to you whether you want to justify any resulting names that would be unusual for women or just gloss over it.

in conclusion: loyalty kink.

DNW: unrequested ships for these characters, including passing mentions thereof.

—

Scar & Original Ishvalan Character(s); Miles & Original Ishvalan Character(s); Scar & Miles

One of the things that really hits close to home about canon, for me as a Jewish fan whose relatives went through the Holocaust, is the Ishval plot; I like that it’s important and not just backstory or setup for other stuff, and that there are multiple characters who are Ishvalan or of Ishvalan descent, rather than a genocide plot being a convenient reason to have one or no Ishvalan perspectives in the story. I’d really be interested in reading anything about, well, what do you do during or in the wake of a genocide: Miles’s seemingly increasing identification with his Ishvalan background; one or both of them in the post-canon rebuilding; what is is to be Amestrian *and* Ishvalan; what Scar (or OCs) are able to keep from their culture and community and what was lost (and what evolves), whether that’s in “Amestrian” cities and towns during or after canon, or in post-canon Ishval; saving the testimonies or the culture. Doesn’t need to be angsty if that’s not what you’re into; indeed, surviving/building a new life/finding joy/celebrating one’s culture and heritage after that kind of thing are meaningful too.

DNW: Please don’t give Scar a name; I personally am fine eliding any narration issues with “how would he refer to himself in his own POV?” in my brain. I would also prefer that Ishvalan culture be worldbuilt rather than borrowed wholesale from a real-life culture.

—

Briggs Soldiers & Officers; Olivier Mira Armstrong & Miles

I love the entire Briggs dynamic and its mix of heartwarming and id-satisfying loyalty kink. (The watch! Buccaneer handing Olivier a clean pair of gloves after she kills Raven! Constant and deeply sincere saluting) Any combination of Briggs characters (Olivier? Miles? Buccaneer? Falman? The doctor? Engineer Bobby? OCs?), whether in ordinary or extraordinary circumstances - daily life in the fort, a battle with Drachma where they work together seamlessly, surviving a storm or the typical winter cold - would make me happy, but I especially love those shows of loyalty. Entire Briggs Is Gay would also non-ironically be neat, as would other ways of exploring the idea of Briggs being a united wall made up of people with a lot of secrets and/or racial and gender differences. I’ve also requested Olivier & Miles specifically and am basically interested in the same sort of thing (feel free to pull ideas from my other Miles requests as well). Olivier has no patience for anyone’s shit and I adore her.

—

Olivier Mira Armstrong/Izumi Curtis

So competent! So angry! They hit it off as soon as they meet! (Olivier’s previously aware of that woman who stole from Briggs for a month before she took command, but not by name/face.) It’d be hot!

DNW: infidelity angst or poly negotiation; I'd rather just tacitly assume Izumi and Sig have an open relationship.

[cashtonwoah-blog]

Better Man // Part 1

Hey guys! It's been a while since I wrote any stuff on here, so apologies! This is a new Ashton Irwin Series, enjoy!

Warnings : Swearing, light smut.

Side note--this is a very different series to what I normally write. It's a long one!

"Do you have Fanta Lemon or Orange?" I hear the old man say at the pool bar desk.

"Both! Which will it be?" I politely ask the customer. He agrees on one of each. I smile, walking over to the machine to pour a drink. I give the man his drinks, complete with ice and a lemon slice in the Fanta Lemon.

"Thanks" he says, adding a creepy wink at the end, shoving a crumpled €5 in to the tip jar on the work surface. I weakely smile, thanking him for his tip.

It's March, and it's currently 21 degrees in Santa Cruz de Tenerife, and I'm working for a 6th day in a row. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. It was only meant to be a summer job, working in a restaurant bar at a five star hotel for 3 months during my university holidays. I had it all figured out, work during the summer abroad to save money for my 2nd year at university, however life took a different path. I ended up failing my last essay, meaning that I would have to retake the whole year, so I decided to drop out of university all together. My Dad ended up marrying this blonde women I'd met appropriately 5 times in 6 months, so I decided to move out. In the end, staying in Santa Cruz de Tenerife was a better plan, no family, no university, just my friends out here and work, and that's all that mattered.

"Y/N, go have your break" I hear my boss, Andre shout from the store cupboard. I take my apron off, grab a glass of water and head to the break room. I open the door to find my best mates, Camila and Ed, already sat in there, probably gossiping about someone.

"Y/N! Come join us, we're bitching about Margot again" Ed laughed, pushing a chair towards me.

"Let me guess, she left the cups in the dryer again?!" I sighed.

Ed and Camila hated the new girl, Margot, who had just started working shifts on the bar. It would be unfair to say she was bad at her job, she is awful. From spilling drinks to over customers to making basically poisonous drinks, she couldn't get the hang of it.

"She left me to do all the washing up again today, it's pissing me off" Camila moaned.

I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe mention it to Andre, maybe she needs more training".

Camila laughed.

"Nope, she needs to leave. She isn't cut out for this job" she replies, high fiving Ed. I rolled my eyes again.

"Anyway, what's up with you? Any new guys on the scene?" Ed winked at me, resting his hands on his face, like he was waiting for some big story.

"Oh please, next question" I scoffed, taking a mouthful of drink to clear my dry throat. Since moving to Santa Cruz de Tenerife permanently, I'd become best friends with Ed and Camila through work. We were a smiliar age, but very different people. Camila had been seeing a guy, Pete, for 8 months when I first met her, and Ed was in an on-off thing with the lifeguard at the pool, Mateo. Where as me, I'd been single for a good 2 years. My last relationship was with a guy back in England, which didn't end so nicely. I decided that my move to Santa Cruz de Tenerife would maybe bring some new love into my life, and a year later after moving here, I was still single.

"Well what about Matias?" Camila sighed.

"Not my type, too chatty" I laughed.

"Ben?"

"Not funny enough"

"Mateo is nice" Ed laughed.

"Yeah, before I realised he only went out with me because he fancied you!" I laughed.

"Seriously though Y/N, where are you gonna find someone and stop being so fussy?" Camila asked.

"When the time is right Cami, just not now I guess!" I jokingly snapped at her. I loved my friends, but do wish that they'd get off my case about finding someone. I wasn't really in the mood for dating at the moment.

"Anyway... Moving on... What you got planned for this weekend?" I asked my friends.

"Well, there's fuck all to do here, so we could head into town, have a night out?" Ed suggested.

"Sounds good, and, maybe I could ask Pete to bring a mate..." Camila winked at me. I groaned.

"I better get back to work, see you later!" I got up and walked away before she could finish what she was going to say.

"Okay girl, think about it!" she laughs, seeing how annoyed I was getting. Ed nudges her playfully.

****

It's 12am, and my shift is coming to an end. I close up the outdoor bar, pack away the glasses that Margot didn't do from earlier. I hang my apron up, and head to the main reception desk of the hotel to sign out. I see a few regular hotel guests and say goodnight to them. Just as I get the staff sign out book, I hear a slam of a door behind me. It startles me so much that I drop the book onto the floor. I groan, bending down to pick the book up. As I go to pick it up, a set of hands also reaches for the book and helps me to pick it up. I look up, and see a man with messy curly hair, wearing a polka dot shirt and skinny black jeans. He gives me a warm smile, as he gives the book back to me.

"Gracias" I thank the boy in Spanish.

"No worries" he chuckles in English, with an Aussie twang. He warmly smiles, before reaching to his Jean back pocket, getting his mobile phone out to answer a call.

"Sorry" is all the boy says, before walking off.

I stand there, all confused for a second, before then realising that I need to sign out of work. I sign my name, and head for the exit of the hotel.

My drive home is a quiet one, thinking about the curly haired boy in the reception area. Yeah he was cute, and smartly dressed. I chuckled to myself, hoping to see him the next day around the hotel.

***

"Two beers coming up" I smile at the young couple on their holiday. Its a busy down round the pool today, lots of new arrivals, after all it is the school holidays. I place the young couple their drinks on their table before heading back to the bar to clean some drinks. The curly haired boy has been on my mind all morning. Yes it was a brief encounter. Yes I thought he was cute. And yes, I wanted to see him again.

"Y/N, can you go to reception? There's an early check in" Andre asks.

I head to reception, and I'm greeted by a young women with black hair, and a tall blonde haired boy. They look very young, but cute together. As I approach them, I greet them.

"Welcome to the Hotel La Flora, my name is Y/N" I smile. I see Ed across the counter, checking the young couple in.

"Thanks Y/N, I'm Sierra and this is my boyfriend Luke". She smiled, her boyfriend Luke offering a hand for me to shake. Polite, I thought. Once they're all checked in, I carry their bags to the room on the top floor, our penthouse deluxe room. Normally only wealthy businessmen or celebrities hire this room. I open the door, set the cases on the beds and open the French doors to show the young couple the huge balcony. The view fell the balcony is beautiful.

"You've got a beautiful view here, perfect view of the beach" I smile, handing them their keys.

"Would you like any help unpacking?" I ask.

"No thank you Y/N, thanks again" the boyfriend Luke smiles, handing me a €20 tip. I widely smile at this very generous tip, making note of the generous offer.

"Thank you that's very kind". I smile, placing the money into my pocket. I walk around the rest of the apartment, opening the other doors to show the couple around, including the 2nd bedroom.

"Ah, Ashton and Kay will be just fine here I hope" I hear the girlfriend, Sierra say to her boyfriend.

"Yeah, I'm not sure about Kay though" Luke mutters. I hear a deep sigh from the girl.

"I'll leave you guys to it, I hope you enjoy your stay. " I smile, thanking them again for the tip, before shutting the door to give them time to unpack. I run down to reception, to gloat at Ed for the huge tip.

"Comeon that's not fair, I checked them in!" he moans, trying to take the money off me.

"Well maybe next time you carry your own bags!" I scoff at him, playfully sticking my tongue out at him, before skipping back off to the bar.

****

It's 3pm, and things have gotten a lot quieter around the pool bar. People are starting to head inside for evening plans. I grab a book, The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, and read a few pages, before spotting a girl heading towards the bar. I set my book down, and greet the girl with a warm smile.

"Hello what can I get you today?"

"Tap water, make sure it's cold" she snaps, not even looking at me. I pore the girl a tap water, noting her tone. Rude, I thought.

"Thanks, sorry if I snapped at you, just been one of those day, you know" she sighs, looking at her phone still.

"I get it, it's OK" I say, not wanting to be nosy and ask what's happened. Before I can say anything else, she calls someone.

"I'm here, where are you?" she snaps to the person on her phone, before walking towards the door to the entrance of the bar. As she walks towards the door, a familiar face walks in, wearing a red t-shirt with skinny Jean shorts and Ray Ban sunglasses. I sigh, it's the curly haired boy from last night with the sign out book.

"Kay, you're early" he says, hugging the girl.

"Well I wanted to see you, is that so much of a problem?" she snaps.

"Not here, please" he requests, looking at me, before looking at the floor. He gently grabs her arms and they walk off. Dramatic, I thought. I continue to read my book.

Some people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them," I said.

"Right, of course. But you keep the promise anyway".

That's what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway."

I deeply sighed at the quote in the book, before taking a sip of my ice tea.

"Are you Okay?" I hear a voice say. The voice startles me, as I spit out my drink over the counter. I can feel my face going bright red from sheer embarrassment.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry Sir" I say, running around to the back to get a cloth and wipe up the mess. I come back and see the curly haired boy looking at me and laughing.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have disturbed you during your book reading" he laughs, looking at my book. I continue to politely ignore him, clearing up my mess. I noted that my book was now covered in ice tea.

"Damn, guess I'll be needing a new book" I laugh, looking at the boy.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry Sir, it was very unprofessional of me to-" I apologise.

"No need... Um.... Y/N" he interrupts, looking closely at my name badge.

"Thank you." I awkwardly chuckle. There's a pause before either of us say anything.

"So.. Can I get you anything sir?" I ask, resuming my duty.

"Gin and tonic please" he responds. I head to the bar, and pour the man a drink. As I head back to the bar I note that he's taken a seat in front of my work station. Odd, I thought.

"There you go" I politely say, placing the drink in front of the boy. He smiled, taking a huge gulp of the drink. He sits there in silence, so I decide to make light conversation while cleaning a few glasses.

"So, everything okay?" I ask. For a few seconds he doesn't respond, he just stares into his glass.

"Yeah, just one of those days, y'know?" he says, scoffing under his breath, before finishing the rest of his drink. He lightly taps the top of the glass, indicating that he would like another, I head to the liquor counter and make him another one.

"I get what you mean, do you wanna talk about it? You wouldn't believe the stories I've heard working here" I softly reply.

"Maybe after a few of these ill open up" he cutely laughs. I hand him his second drink, to which he finishes all in one.

"Woah okay, take it easy yeah?" I say, slightly concerned.

"Nah its okay, I'm good with my drink. I remember having a drinking contest with Mike and Calum in LA after a gig... Good times." he reasurres me, asking for another drink. I make him another one, but deliberately put less alcohol in it, just in case.

"Oh so you're in a band?" I ask.

"Yeah, been together for quite a few years. Been touring for a few months so it's nice to have a break... Or so I thought" he mutters the last part.

"That's cool. What sort of music do you play?" I ask, continuing to clean glasses.

The boy pauses, looks confused into my eyes. I can't tell if he's mad at my comment or going to pass out.

"Oh, so you don't know who I am?" he asks confused.

I pause for a second. Shit, I've offended him.

"I'm sorry, just that music out here is a mixture and-" I panic.

"Hey no its okay! To be honest it's quite nice to not be well known" he smiles at me, taking a sip of his drink.

****

3 hours later, and the boy is still sat in front of me, drinking his millionth G&T, and I've joined him, having one or two won't hurt at work. He tells me his life story, the more drunk he gets. Turns out him and his band are quite well known globally. He tells me the awards they've won over the years, and tour stories. He tells me about the time one of the Jenner-Kardashian crew didn't get their band name right at an awards ceremony. He seems incredibly proud when talking about his band mates, who are also his best friends.

"So you've never really heard of us? " he slurrs a little.

I giggle. "I don't think so. Hum me one of your songs" I reply.

All of a sudden, he gets up on the bar stool and starts singing.

"Sometimes I’m feeling like I’m going insane

My neighbor told me that I got bad brains"

He is screaming at the top of his voice, standing on a bar stool in an empty bar. I'm crying with laughing at this, amazed at how he hasn't fallen off the bar stool. He says two lines of a song, that freezes, and hums.

"I-I can't remember how the rest goes" he laughs, climbing off the stool.

"That's okay" I laugh, wiping tears from my eyes.

"Did you enjoy that?" he laugh, shooting me a playful wink.

"I did actually, I'll keep an eye out for it in the charts" I laugh back. Suddenly his phone rings in his pocket. He groans, answering the call.

"Luke! Yeah I'm good, just in the bar. Yeah ill be up in a minute." he states bluntly, before hanging up. He stares at his phone, looking somewhat sad.

"Everything okay rockstar?" I chuckle.

He awkwardly chuckles back. "Yeah I guess just women stuff".

"Wanna talk about it? Funnily enough I'm quite knowledgeable in that area" I smile.

"Just my girlfri-ex girlfriend." he scoffs.

"Oh, wanna talk about it still?".

"She's here, on holiday wit-with me and my best mate and his girlfriend and I honestly don't know what. We're done, like done-done months ago, y'know?" he slightly slurrs.

"Yeah I get you" I sigh, remembering not so long ago I went through the same thing back in England.

"Why is sh-she here? She said she wanted to be mates and I agreed, but then she wants to acted all like a couple in public, but hates me when it's just me and her" he says. Im sympathetic towards this guy.

"Maybe talk to her while you're here, a little bit of sun and a different sight might work things out" I suggest, trying to cheer him up.

"Yeah, you're right. We're definitely done, I just want her to leave me alone basically" he scoffs.

"Sounds awful, but I don't want a relationship right now you know? I just wanna explore the world with my band, but also have something on the side, y'know?" he says. I stare at the harshness in his voice, yet I understand what he means.

I sigh. "um, yeah, I know exactly what you mean".

Just as the boy starts to speak again, the blonde hair boy from earlier walks in. He kicks his heals on the wooden floor, like in an inpatient manner.

"Ash, are you okay?" he asks.

The curly haired boy sighs. "Yeah I'm alright man, just needed a break. I just want her to go".

"Well Sierra is talking to her now, I think she's gonna head off so you can have a break" Luke replies. Luke notes my presence.

"Sorry, he hasn't been a pain has he?" Luke sarcastically asked.

I laugh. "I can reassure you sir I've had much worse."

The curly haired boy stands up from his bar stool slowly, trying to not stumble.

"Comeon, let's go have a nap" Luke says, putting his arm and shoulder under the curly haired boys armpit to support him.

"Do you need any help?" I ask.

"It's okay, he just needs a nap" Luke laughs.

"Thanks Y/N, see ya around!" the curly haired boy laughs. Luke walks off basically carrying the curly haired boy back to his room.

"She's kinda cute, right?" I hear Ashton attempting to whisper to his friend. I quietly giggle at this.

"Shh drunk boy" Luke laughs, helping his mate. They both leave the bar together, leaving just myself around an empty desolate bar, surrounding with 7 empty G&T glasses. I laugh to myself, thinking about the last 4 hours of chat we've had, hoping to have more with the curly haired boy sometime soon.

****

Part 2//

[jinactually]

Untitled Story

Hello, everyone! Once again, I am out of ideas about what to write for this blog. You may think that since this is a blog about stuff I love, I would have many ideas for this blog. However, that is not the case. My interests are not very broad. If I weren’t so lazy, then I’d probably have more hobbies and interests. I apologize for the inconveniences, but the good news is that I’m going to share an embarrassing story I wrote a few years ago!

If you read my post about how I love writing, I mentioned that I wrote a story about a pasta bowl and a pineapple getting married. It’s VERY embarrassing. This was even written while I was a hardcore BTS fan (I’m still a fan, but not as hardcore). So, without further ado, here is my embarrassing story!

What a strange love; two completely different things (to be more specific, foods) having an infatuate relationship with each other. No one understands why they like one another, not even the uneaten banana on the kitchen counter. Although everyone thinks it's abnormal for two contrasting edible items, or even just regular things, to be dating each other. Though no one bothers to disrupt the duo, for they are too interested in each other to care about the outside world.

They were extremely cliche, always telling pick-up lines and amazing compliments. The two would never part ways, not just because they don't have limbs to move around, but because they were too in love to ever leave the other one's side. Corny, right? Yeah, that's the kind of couple they were.

Now, you're wondering why foods are infatuated, right? It's an extremely bizarre combination, but, that's what's in this world now: Different things being curious about each other.

It was a pasta bowl and a pineapple.

You heard me, a pasta bowl and a pineapple.

I know what you're thinking, "What a weird couple!" "Wow, how gross." "Why are foods even dating each other in the first place?!" Well, kids, I have the answer to your question. A girl requested to write about a love story about a pineapple and a bowl of pasta. Now, enough of my rambling, let me tell the story of how a pineapple married the pasta bowl.

It was an average day, the scorching sun shining down through the windows, the birds tweeting peacefully in the morning, the smell of coffee spreading though the house. It was silent at first, except for the TV playing some BTS, yes, the owner of this house is complete trash for this band. But, that does not matter.

"Good morning!" The pasta bowl called to the unmoving pineapple. The pasta kept trying to wake up their significant other. Although it tried many times to awaken their lover, to no avail did the pineapple reply to the calls.

"Fine," huffed the pasta, "I'll just not talk to you for the rest of the day! Have fun lying around lazily for the rest of the day, couch potato."

"Hey, I am not a potato," The pineapple has finally awakened from its deep slumber. "Geez, and like you don't lie around all day. We have no legs to move ourselves, do you seriously think I can walk myself to the window? No, so stop complaining."

The couple also differed in personalities; the pineapple, named P, is a savage. P is a witty, sour fruit that really hates to socialize. The fruit always wants to do something, although it doesn't have the attributes to do anything but lie around the kitchen counter. Even though it seems as if P does not give a single care about you, just try to look deeper into the pineapple's heart. If you try hard enough, you'll be able to see that P has no heart, and that it really doesn't care. At all. For two reasons: Pineapples have no heart, and his heart has already been stolen by the love of their life. Well, at least emotionally.

While old P is a salty, old pineapple, their significant other, V the pasta bowl, is a happy-go-lucky soul. V is practically the shining sun, always beaming with light and happiness. Being the extrovert V is, V always looks forward to making new friends, but loyally never leaves the side of their lover. Cute right? V is usually the one to initiate affection, for P hates starting something. But P secretly loves it when V tells stories about how it and their friend, J, literally made R scream when it found about them dating. But V doesn't care, V is a careless spirit. And V always makes an effort to cheer everyone up, which makes P fall for V even more.

And on that day, P felt itself fall into the deep sea. V was being extremely cheesy for some reason, and P was just getting so flustered and flattered by its significant other. P wanted them to stop, but P just couldn't bring itself to stop his cutie of a lover. The fruit found it a miracle that God sent such an amazing item to earth, and that item was V, the pasta bowl.

"What?" V sounded curiously. "P isn't being the grumpy grandpa he is? Weird! Are you embarrassed? You're so cute!" V giggled as it continued to bicker about how P was normally so cranky all the time. Hmm, doesn't this remind you of someone you know?

"Shut up, I'm not grumpy. Plus, who you are you called a grandpa? Food has no gender, you know." P sighed deeply as a strange feeling welled deep in P's core. P usually didn't feel this when it was with V. It wasn't happiness, no, it was too... Abstract to be happiness. P just couldn't figure it out, no matter how hard it tried to find the answer. They were together for a long time, about two months. It's weird; not eating a pasta bowl and a pineapple for two months. Their owner was strange, once it got something, she wouldn't use it until a long time. But, that's how she was.

"Hey, are you listening to me? Hey!" V snapped P out of its thoughts. "As I was saying, why are you dazing off so much? You okay? Don't tell me you want to..."

"No!" P snapped. "I'm never leaving you. Why could I leave someone as beautiful as you." As soon as P said this, P blushed furiously as it stuttered to find the right words to explain what happened. "I-I mean, I didn't say that."

"Wow, tsundere much?" V smirked. "I didn't know you had feelings."

The feeling welled deep in P's mind, what was it? It was growing stronger, maybe to the extent where P just want to scream everything out. It angered P, for not knowing what this strange feeling was, and that it wouldn't go away. P, still abashed by its lovely comment, tried its best to say something. But, P was tongue-tied, not being able to put his feelings into words.

"I-I just wanted to say that for a long time. I'm sorry for not being so kind as I should be. I love you, a lot. And I want to be with you forever." P said to the confused V, trying to fight back the uncontrollable blush creeping up its skin. Frick! Where am I going with this? Wait.. P slowly started to realize what this feeling was. It was none other than the infamous love. Of course it was, why couldn't P realize this earlier? P wanted to stay with V for the rest of its life, but P just couldn't casually tell V about this. But now, it just came out.

"Please marry me."

It was a simple sentence, but an amazing command. So much feelings were put into the words, and although it was just so sudden, both of the foods realized something. Let's be together.

"Okay." V said. "I was going to propose too, but alright! I-I'm not crying or anything..." V wasn't crying from sadness, but from relief and happiness. P didn't ever reject V, and V loved P for that. P was a perfect match for the outgoing pasta bowl, and now, they can be like this forever.

"Don't cry!" P shouted. "I'm sorry. You're just so beautiful. I can't bear to see you like this. You're the person who's always been with me. You may not be the 'perfect' ideal type to everyone, but that's who you are to me. I love you a lot. I wouldn't trade you for anything else in this world. You're the best thing that came into my life. Seeing someone like you is a once in a lifetime scenario. You're..." P paused for a dramatic effect.

"Very Very extraordinary."

V stopped shedding tears and stared straight at P. "You know what? I'm done!" V pretended to bawl hysterically while P tried its best to calm V down.

"But I'll never be done with you."

"Gross, I can't believe I got married to someone like you."

"I love you too."

[jordan202]

The Journey - Part Seventeen

Thanks to everyone who waited patiently for this. @jia911 and @bluebelle18 thank you so much for your help. 

Previous chapters are HERE. 

Timeline for Part 17:

How much exactly happened between Amelia telling Derek she was in love with Owen at the end of 11x18 and the opening scene of 11x19? One night? Why not a little more than that? This chapters explores the interactions between these two episodes. And sadly, we are getting ready to say goodbye to Derek. 

The Journey – Part Seventeen 

“What’s this?” Amelia asked widening her eyes. Owen had just moved his leg up to better accommodate the two of them in bed and she couldn’t help noticing the long scar on the outside of his right thigh. “Who did this?” Her eyes scanned it with concern, noticing the poorly done surgical repair. “It’s a disaster,” she joked, outlining the thin mark with her index finger.

“What?” Owen distractedly asked, taking his eyes off the TV to focus on the woman in his arms. “Oh, that,” He chuckled, knowing she’d probably be horrified by his answer. “I got a nasty cut there once and got it stapled.”

Amelia’s scowl of sympathy for the painful procedure amused him. Even though there was nothing but a pink discreet line visible on his fair skin, as a surgeon she could obviously identify the evidence of a severe laceration that has bruised his leg once.

“Oh my God, where were you when this happened?” Amelia leaned over, unceremoniously pulling the fabric of his boxers up his thigh to take a closer look at the scar. She knew Owen had been to a warzone more than once and wasn’t sure she was prepared to hear his answer. “It looks like a carpenter did it.”

“I did it,” He replied and waited for the surprise on her face, that didn’t fail to come. “That’s why it looks that horrible. I was in a hurry and didn’t have that much of an angle.”

“Where in the world were you that you couldn’t properly suture this?” Amelia asked with sympathy, supposing it was a battle wound.

“At the hospital,” Owen surprised her and couldn’t help a fit of laughter at her nearly offended expression. “Right here in Seattle.”

“You were at the hospital and you did this to yourself?” Amelia’s voice was a pitch higher than usual. She looked almost angry. “What the hell, Owen?”

He shrugged and chuckled, amused by her protective reaction.

“I guess I wasn’t thinking much back then. I had just made it back from war and my head was not in a very good place,” Owen followed her eyes and ended gazing at the result of his impulsiveness with the stapler. “The cosmetic result doesn’t bother me that much but I suppose I should have at least gotten the area numb before stapling myself. I probably would have done a better job if I weren’t feeling every staple slicing my skin.”

Amelia was silent for a couple of seconds before she finally admitted.

“Well, I can’t judge you that much on that because I once did something similar,” She pointed to her left hand, where a virtually nonexistent scar served as a reminder of her messy drunken days. “But at least I had the decency to apply some local anesthetic to it first.” Owen laughed along with her, and he couldn’t help cracking up harder when she added, “not to mention I used real, grown up surgeon suture line and not a quick carpentry patch.”

Owen wrapped his free hand around her waist, pulling her back closer against his chest. They were in bed, half lying, half sitting. Amelia was between his legs, comfortably leaned on him. Owen had grown to love holding her every night. It felt perfect to have her tiny frame captured in his arms, to be able to breath her in and smell the amazing scent on her hair as they did something as mundane as watching an old action movie on television together on a random weeknight.

After her sassy comment, Owen stretched out his hand and grabbed hers, inspecting the almost imperceptible scar on its left side before taking it to his lips, kissing the area with delight mirth.

“Do I want to ask how you got that cut in the first place?” He turned his head sideways, meeting her eyes as Amelia accommodated the back of her head against his shoulder.

The neurosurgeon saw the raised eyebrow and pretended to think long and hard of what to say before replying:

“No.”

Owen chuckled at her response and saw the contained laughter in her eyes before burying his face on the crook of her neck.

“But you’ll tell me anyway,” he affirmed with conviction, playfully showering her shoulder and neck with kisses that made Amelia twitch her back in a ticklish response.

“Okay, okay…” Her giggles echoed through the small interior of Owen’s trailer as she surrendered. After catching her breath, Amelia finally confessed. “I was drunk and fell on a bar.” She met his eyes and noticed he was expecting something more. “Actually, I fell from the bar. Not that glorious, as you can see.”

“At least you were having fun.” He added, noticing she seemed to be avoiding sharing more details. Owen knew she was probably bothered because the memory was linked to her rock bottom days as an alcoholic. But he didn’t judge her for her condition. In fact, he thought her resilience and drive to overcome it everyday spoke a whole lot more than her addiction in the first place.

“Yeah, kind of…” Amelia grinned, thankful that she could now laugh about the situation that had once been so embarrassing. Her gaze had diverted back to the TV as once again she and Owen got caught up with the movie on screen when she felt his fingers idly rubbing the skin of her stomach beneath her shirt.

A lazy smile formed on her lips as Amelia relaxed even more in his arms, not making a lot of effort to contain a yawn. Over those past few days together, she’d come to notice how Owen’s hands were always seeking her back and belly under her shirt and she didn’t mind it one bit. In fact, Amelia found the act quite intimate and soothing. It felt amazing to feel the roughness of his hand against her skin, constantly reminding her that he was there.

His thumb was still distractedly rubbing the curve of her waist when Amelia intertwined her fingers with his, unconsciously offering him support as she heard the words slipping her mouth.

“How was it there?” She asked, unable to withhold the question much longer. “I know you’ve been to several tours but you never talk about your days in the army.”

Owen’s eyes were still on the screen but he was no longer paying attention to the movie.

“There is nothing much to tell,” He evasively answered, finally looking from the screen to her eyes. Amelia saw his discreet smile before he leaned over and kissed her temple with affection. “I spent most of my time there working at a campaign hospital, seeing patients and scrubbing in on surgeries the same way we work here every day.” Owen added.

It wasn’t exactly true and he knew it. Not only were the conditions at the war zone a lot different, it was a daily struggle to see the men and women he fought with having their lives hanging by a thread, or losing them despite his best efforts. Fighting alongside people he considered brothers and sisters was already hard enough, but being the one who worked on them when they were at their worst not knowing if at any moment he would turn out to the next victim was exponentially rough.

Owen had lived through a lot. He’d seen and heard everything. Those days were in his past and at the moment, he was much more interested in the present lying comfortably in his arms.

And who knew, maybe she might turn out to be his future too? Owen surely hoped so.

“Yeah, but you never bring it up.” Amelia gently insisted, thinking about his wellbeing. “It’s okay to talk about you, you know that, right?” She turned sideways in his arms, leaning the side of her head against his shoulder as she looked up to meet his eyes, feeling him adjusting to better hold her. “You should talk about it. I’m here if you want to.” She selflessly offered, waiting for his response, but all Owen did was to give her a quick peck on the lips.

“Thank you.” He smiled when they broke apart. “But I am okay,” he added, more worried about assuring her than about his own current status. Owen had been severely traumatized when he’d come back from his last tour, but a lot of hard work in therapy sessions and long years of taking care of himself had made that better.

It was impossible to talk about the war without bringing up some painful memories. Owen had lost people he cared too much about to it… Friends and family. Tonight, they were having a blissful moment, and he didn’t want to ruin it with memories that would only constrict his heart.

“Okay, then, but the offer still stands,” Amelia smiled genuinely at him, still playing with his fingers between hers. “Did you find what you were looking for?” She turned her head and looked deeply into his eyes. “In the army, I mean. Whatever made you join… Did you find what you were after?”

Owen slightly frowned, looking lost in thought. A lot of people asked him what had made him join in the first place, but no one had ever asked him that.

“I think so.” He was still surprised with the question, but tried to be as honest as possible while looking back into her eyes and speaking from the heart. “I don’t know, I guess I wanted to make a difference.”

“You can make a difference right here.”

The way Amelia said the words, without any hesitation while looking straight into his eyes moved Owen. In her shy smile, he learned the true meaning of her last sentence.

Feeling his heart being invaded by a warm, tender sensation, Owen wrapped his arms around her more tightly and kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes as Amelia snuggled closer to his chest. Minutes went by before they finally began talking again.

“Are you really taking a day off tomorrow?” She asked, raising one eyebrow questioningly at him. Ever since she’d started working at the hospital, it was rare to see Owen taking a personal day. He’d have free time sometimes on weekends, but Amelia couldn’t think of a single weekday where her boss hadn’t been at the hospital.

“Yeah,” Owen awkwardly replied, looking like someone who’d just been busted. Unable to keep the information a secret any longer, he finally confessed. “Your brother is going to DC in a couple of days to finalize his work with his project there and he told me he’s taking this time to do all the things he loves the most… You know, like spending time with his family, or being back in the OR.” Owen explained. “But he also told me he loves the quietness and silence he first found when he got here. So Derek planned a fishing excursion for tomorrow and after telling me about it, he insisted I joined him.” The chief of surgery looked at Amelia conspicuously. “I have a feeling he suspects about us.” Owen added with a semi apologetic grin.

The neurosurgeon thought it was cute the way he was apparently blaming himself for it.

“Derek knows,” Amelia affirmed with conviction, watching the transformation in Owen’s face as he showed surprise with the information. “Well…” She bit her lower lip with doubt. “I am not sure how much he knows, to be honest.” The neurosurgeon confessed, thinking about the conversation she’d had with her brother. She had openly admitted to be falling in love with Owen, something Derek didn’t look so surprised with, but Amelia had never told him that the two of them were steadily seeing each other.

“Oh God,” Owen widened his eyes with discomfort. “Do you think that’s why he invited me?” Suddenly, a look of alarm was stamped all over the surgeon’s expression. “He’s not going to…You know…” Owen hesitated, visibly uncomfortable. “He’s not going to be asking me questions, is he?”

Amelia studied his expression, having fun with Owen’s predicament. Derek was obviously protective of her, but he’d made it clear he supported the romance between his sister and his friend. She really couldn’t see him grilling Owen about it, but it was fun to watch their boss being so terrified with anxiety.

“Well,” Amelia chuckled, seeing Owen growing worried by the minute. “I guess tomorrow you’ll find out.”

.

The sun was shinning high in the sky, casting a comfortable heat on them as Owen listened to Derek’s monologue about rods, reels and lines. After a few minutes, the two men sat beside each other inside the small boat. Owen found out that instead of the awkward conversation he was expecting, there was actually comfortable silence.

Both surgeons had learned how to cherish those moments of peace and quietness. Derek, being born and raised in New York, had grown accustomed to noise and busy streets. Owen on the other hand had learned the true value of tranquility during his first deployment, while spending months deprived of it. After Derek popped open the first two beers, both guys remained immersed in total silence, enjoying the rare day of clear skies in Seattle.

After what it felt like a couple of hours, it was Derek who finally started the conversation.

“This is nice,” The neurosurgeon casually commented, pulling out his rod and collecting the medium size trout that had bitten his bait. “We took too long to start doing this.” He added with an encouraging grin.

Owen watched as his friend skillfully prepared another hook.

“Yeah,” He agreed with a head nod, looking over his shoulder to Derek. Owen had to admit he was enjoying that day more than he would have expected. It felt good to take a break from everything and be closer to nature. “I had no idea how much I needed this.”

“The quietness?” Derek raised his eyebrows in a clear mocking smile. Owen recognized the expression, it was the same one Amelia had on whenever she was about to tease him. “I bet you did,” Derek tried to contain a smile. “I mean, it’s not like you can have a moment’s peace with Amelia. In fact,” the neurosurgeon looked playfully at the other guy, as if knowing how uncomfortable he was starting to feel. “She won’t shut up whenever she can help it.” Derek chuckled. “But I’m sure you’ve already picked up on it.”

Owen breathed in, hesitating for a moment while he thought of what to say. The tension was building up and he had been caught by surprise.

“Yeah, about Amelia…”

“Hey, don’t worry, alright?” Derek interrupted him with a lighthearted grin. “I know.” He said without adding details. And then, almost as if giving his blessing, the neurosurgeon nodded his head. “She told me.”

Owen didn’t know how to respond to that, so he simply remained silent. At the same time Derek had no saying in Amelia’s love life, he was her brother and Owen knew the two of them were close. He and Amelia hadn’t really defined what they were yet, but the chief of surgery wanted to believe she was just as invested in their relationship as he was. And if that were the case, Derek would probably be a significant part of his life from there on.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Amelia’s brother commented:

“You know, you are welcome to park the trailer in my back yard for as long as you want,” Derek started, smiling mischievously. “But if you ever feel like you need more space, I heard the owners there have been trying to sell the place for years now,” He pointed to a squared flat land surrounded by high pine trees directly across the smaller portion of the lake. “I almost bought it, but I would have no use for it. Everything I need I already have right here.” He pointed to the house and the yard with his eyes, smiling affectionately. The expression on Derek’s face showed he was thinking about way more than he was actually saying. “But how nice would it be to be my neighbor?” The neurosurgeon hid his telltale smile behind a bottle of beer.

Owen looked at him suspiciously. It was obvious what Derek was implying.

“I am already your neighbor.” He pointed out, refusing to give the idea and everything it entailed too much thought, otherwise Owen knew he would quickly be seduced by it.

“I meant a grown up neighbor.” Derek teased him, looking from his friend back to the vacant land. “Amelia is a big city girl, though,” he continued, completely ignoring Owen’s grumpy protest. He knew he was seeing way too much into the future but after his latest epiphany, Derek felt like there was no time left to lose. Life was too precious and went by too fast to waste any time overthinking things that already made a lot of sense. “So don’t expect her to celebrate the idea of living out here in the woods on the long run,” The older brother finished his beer and smacked the leftover flavor on his lips. “Just promise her you’ll never make her sleep in a tent and she’ll be on board.” He looked at the chief of surgery like he’d just given him privileged information. “It’ll also earn you some extra points if you add a big bathtub in her suite.”

Even though Owen was trying really hard to stick to reality, it was incredibly difficult to refrain from actually picturing what Derek was saying. It had always been his dream to build a family and a home with a woman he loved and wanted the same things in life. Amelia came from a big family and it was obvious Derek enjoyed having her around. No wonder why the neurosurgeon was pretty much making plans for Amelia’s future and including Owen in it.

“And then when you two have kids, you can even…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Owen interrupted his friend, giving him a censoring look. “You should take a step back and come back to the present time.” The chief kept a heavy frown. “Actually, take several steps back.”

“What, you don’t want to have kids?” Derek playfully asked, smiling widely when he noticed the obvious answer in Owen’s eyes. The neurosurgeon was well aware of where his friends stood about having children, especially after closely witnessing how being deprived of them had contributed to put an end to his marriage.

“Of course I do.” Owen refuted him instantly.

“Then what’s the problem?” Derek spoke excitedly. “You know, Hunt, there will come a day when you’ll wake up one morning and find out there is no better feeling in the world than when your baby holds your face between their hands and smiles at you before saying dad.” His eyes were gleaming with mischief when Derek then finally added. “But then my mom will probably ring on your front door unexpectedly, or one of the kids will throw up on you and next thing you know, you’ll be wondering how you got yourself into this mess in the first place.”

Owen couldn’t contain a chuckle. He couldn’t deny how the idea was incredibly inviting. If things kept progressing the way they were, at some point he would love to embark on the idea of building the kind of life Derek had made for himself with Amelia. In a way, Owen already felt like they were already working on the foundation.

Truth was, Owen hadn’t been with Amelia for too long. And life had already taught him to be cautious and how to shield his heart from further disappointment. He had learned not to project his expectations into someone like he’d done in the past, because that didn’t work out. But with Amelia, it simply felt like he didn’t have to. So far, she had only given him reasons to believe she was everything he’d ever wanted and after months in her company, getting to know her and slowly falling in love with her, it became increasingly harder for Owen not to jump in Derek’s idea with both feet.

Involuntarily, his eyes searched across the lake and once again Owen spotted the piece of land Derek had just mentioned. It looked perfect. In a matter of seconds his brain filled in all the blanks. He could almost see a two-story house right by one of the corners, a small football field where he could play catch with his kids and they could ride their bikes on the summer. And right in the center of it all, he could see Amelia being the one right beside him building everything from scratch.

The thoughts remained on his mind for the following hours. Soon enough, he and Derek had already collected a bucket of fish and talked about enough topics to clear their heads. Feeling reinvigorated and more hopeful than he’d felt in years, Owen returned home with his friend, surprised when by the time he made his way to his trailer for the day, Derek insisted he had dinner at the house with the Shepherds later that evening.

.

The trauma surgeon was about to get dressed when something on the bed caught his attention. Narrowing his eyes with curiosity, Owen approached the bedroom, only to find a delicate white bra that certainly did not belong to him.

Reaching out underneath the blankets, Owen took the small piece and smiled affectionately. For the past week, Amelia had been spending pretty much every night with him. And even though it hadn’t been that long, her presence was already evident in every corner of his trailer.

Her forgotten lingerie was just one of the many traces she’d left behind. Now, his sink usually had two dirty coffee mugs instead of one. The smell of her hair was still very much imprinted on his sheets and the remote control on the opposite side of the bed where he usually laid on also gave away that lately, Owen hadn’t been sleeping alone.

After his eyes noticed the late hour, the trauma surgeon hurried to put the object he’d found inside his pocket and quickly finished getting dressed with dark slacks and a deep green button up shirt. When he rang the doorbell, Owen was surprised to find Zola opening the door right before Derek. He was escorted inside, served a beer and joined his friend on the living room couch, learning that Meredith had scrubbed in on a long surgery and would be home late that evening.

As for Amelia, Owen had no idea. He’d texted her a couple of times earlier that day, but she hadn’t yet replied. And he certainly wasn’t going to ask Derek. Just as Owen was wondering where she was, the front door opened in a hurry and the neurosurgeon barged in, looking absolutely surprised to find both men in the living room.

“Hi!” She recovered quickly from her initial shock, frowning in obvious confusion to what was going on. Amelia had her phone in her hand, and the way the looked from it to Owen let him know she’d just caught up with his messages. “How was fishing?” She asked, uncertain of what to say in that awkwardly surprising situation.

“It was good,” Owen replied evasively.

“Really good,” Derek replied at the same time, visibly more excited.

Amelia looked from her brother to her boss, carefully studying his expression. Owen didn’t seem exactly uncomfortable, but he seemed a bit guarded. As if he wasn’t entirely relaxed, even though the two men were simply watching a game on TV, like they’d done dozens of times before. And it was very obvious why.

Other than her childhood sweetheart, Amelia had never really introduced a guy to her family before but that situation was entirely different, because Owen was already friends with Derek by the time he got involved with Amelia. The younger neurosurgeon didn’t feel awkward to have her brother know about her romantic life, but she could see why a reserved, honorable guy like Owen would be hesitant to act intimate with his friend’s younger sister in his presence.

“So,” Derek looked from Owen to Amelia, determined to make the two of them feel as awkward and uncomfortable as possible for his own amusement. “Are we having dinner, or what?”

“Yeah,” Owen quickly stepped up to help, on board with the idea of having something to keep busy with.

“Good,” Derek nodded. “I am just going to take these little guys to bed first.” He picked up Bailey and called Zola. “Amy, why don’t you set the table?” The neurosurgeon gave his sister a not very subtle wink, clearly trying to embarrass her in front of Owen.

“Sure,” Amelia rolled her eyes at him, reading his intentions. As soon as Derek disappeared upstairs with the kids, she turned her head to the man left standing between the kitchen and the living room. “What’s gotten into you two?” She asked with good humor, trying to decipher Owen’s controlled expression. “You’re so secretive about your date today.”

“We went fishing today,” Owen said like that answered everything, openly ignoring the way she had mocked him by using the word ‘date’. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed Amelia into the kitchen, noticing the questioning look that still remained her eyes. “It was nice.” Owen tried again. He’d never really been that good with words and that whole day still felt very confusing.

“Did Derek give you a hard time?” Amelia asked accusingly. Being a big brother, she fully expected Derek to torment her as much as he could.

“No, it was actually very nice,” Owen repeated more emphatically this time. Memories of the future Derek had painted were still haunting his memory, and the surgeon was trying his best not to give into the temptation of fully investing in them without holding back. “We didn’t talk much but I guess… I don’t know…” Owen awkwardly hesitated and stopped laying the plates on the dinner table like he’d been doing. His eyes met Amelia’s and he took a deep breath before confessing. “I guess he was just trying to make sure I have good intentions about you… That we are not just fooling around, I mean.”

“Oh,” Amelia looked at the man in front of her, feeling touched by her brother’s devotion.

“And also, that I was sure I knew what I was getting myself into,” Owen added with a teasing smile.

Amelia scowled, rejecting his playful remark.

“Well, now he knows,” The neurosurgeon sighed in conformation. She had just realized that Derek knowing about she and Owen sort of officially meant they were something. Trying to contain her anxiety about the situation, for Amelia was not sure she was ready for a serious commitment yet, she resorted to playful banter to distract her mind. “You’ve always been the one to condemn our hiding and sneaking out.  Now it’s out in the open. Satisfied?”

“Yes,” Owen smiled with joy. Feeling particularly inspired, he took his hand to his pocket and slowly pulled out a white object that Amelia obviously recognized in an instant. “But mostly because of this.”

“What?” She chuckled, approaching him. “I was looking for that this morning!” The neurosurgeon tried to take the bra from his hands but Owen easily dodged her attempt. Amelia folded her arms in front of her body. “What are you doing?”

“You think you’re just getting it back like that?” Owen raised one of his eyebrows playfully and approached her, whispering with a seductive voice. “I don’t even get a thank you for returning it, first?”

Amelia was determined not to give into his bribery, but his charming ways and magnetic presence convinced her otherwise. With amused laughter, she wrapped one of her arms around his neck and pulled his head down towards her, kissing him with the same fiery passion she usually would when they were alone in bed at night.

Owen felt her lips forcing his apart and welcomed her sweet intrusion. Amelia stood on the tip of her toes and pressed against him, molding her body to his solid frame as she continued to explore and deepen the kiss.

“Now, that is a proper thank you,” Owen affirmed with a teasing voice as they slowly pulled apart. Her electric blue eyes were looking at him with desire and longing and he instantly regretted agreeing to that dinner instead of having her all to himself for the night. He was about to say it when they heard a noise coming from the living room and quickly went back to the boring task of setting the table.

As he entered the room, Derek looked from his sister to his friend, instantly picking up the animosity in the air. He smiled mysteriously, making Amelia believe she was in for a full round of teasing during dinner but to her surprise, Derek behaved impeccably, bringing up lighthearted topics that entertained the three adults while they shared a delicious hot meal.

As soon as they were done eating, Owen’s cell phone buzzed incessantly. Seeing it was the hospital, the chief of surgery excused himself for a moment, going into the living room to have more privacy as he answered the work call.

“You are unbelievable!” Amelia took advantage of Owen’s absence and immediately accused her brother, watching as he laughed with delight at her predicament.

“I thought you’d be happy!” Derek replied with pretend disbelief, knowing very well his sister was censoring the way he’d sneakily convinced Owen to spend time with him exactly after Amelia’s confession. “After all, you told me you were falling for the guy. All I did was try to set you up.”

“Derek!” Amelia lost her patience. “I am already going out with Owen.”

“You are?” Derek raised both eyebrows in an exaggerated reaction.

“Yeah, but somehow…” Amelia squinted, slowly reading into the situation. Derek was smiling like he knew better. “Something tells me you already knew that though, didn’t you?”

Amelia noticed the proud smirk lingering on her brother’s lips. She’d told Derek she was developing feelings for Owen, but she hadn’t given him any details of their relationship. It was obvious something was going on, but Derek couldn’t possibly know exactly what.

“Of course I know,” Derek playfully admitted, seeing the crossed look on his sister’s face as she realized she’d flagrantly failed to hide something from him. “I’ve known it since the day you two sneaked out through the back after throwing that noisy toy outside.”

“You saw us?!” Amelia asked with surprise. That had been Derek’s first night back in the city, exactly when she’d gone on her first official date with Owen to the auction.

“I very much did,” Derek laughed at her incredulity. “I am a neurosurgeon, Amelia. You wouldn’t believe how sharp my sight is.”

“Actually, I would.” Amelia replied, obviously butt-hurt by his sneaky insult to her neurosurgical sighting skills.

“You haven’t slept at home once in a full week.” Her brother cracked up with the busted look on her face. “No one has that many night shifts.” Derek logically explained. “Besides… how do you think I am so okay with this?” He asked, leaning on the kitchen counter to look into her eyes with an amused expression.

Amelia took her time digesting the meaning of his words.

“You don’t have to be okay with anything.” She playfully chided, even though she felt flattered with her brother’s concern. “It’s my life, not yours.”

“It’s my friend,” Derek pestered her.

“I stole your job, what makes you think I wouldn’t steal your friends?” Amelia wickedly smiled, determined to get back at him for his previous insult to her abilities as a surgeon.

“Well,” Derek shrugged in conformation. “At least Owen is an upgrade from Mark.”

“You know about Mark too?!” Amelia widened her eyes in shock, genuinely surprised. A few years before, she had once had a meaningless one-night stand with Mark Sloan.

“You think Mark would miss out on the chance to rub on my face that he slept with each one of my four sisters?” Derek grumpily asked, suddenly irritated with the topic.

Amelia didn’t miss out on the chance to get her revenge.

“Well, you’ve always known sleeping with Mark was a rite of passage,” she joked.

“Yeah but I expected him to keep his promise and not prey on you when you were still underage,” Derek scowled, still distressed with the idea.

“I was already a surgeon, Derek,” Amelia argued, laughing with his annoyance.

“So?” He dismissed her point, pretty much saying that to him, she would always be his kid sister.

Amelia was just about to reply to his smug comment when she spotted a movement with the corner of her eyes.

Owen stood by the door with his cell phone in his hand. His tight grip around the object didn’t go unnoticed and Amelia wondered how much of the conversation he’d heard.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing the slightly irritated look on his face.

“Yeah,” Owen replied dismissively but didn’t smile back at her when Amelia sustained his gaze. “It’s actually getting a little late, I should probably go.” Amelia exchanged looks with Derek and instantly knew he was also wondering the same thing as her. “Thanks for dinner, Derek.”

“Anytime,” The neurosurgeon turned around and focused his attention back on the sink, clearly stepping out of the conversation.

Amelia made her way to the living room, noticing as Owen waited for her to catch up with him to walk towards the front door.

“Do you have to go back to the hospital?” She asked, hoping he hadn’t heard the last bit of her conversation with Derek and misinterpreted the situation. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing much, one of the ortho surgeons needs an OR for a last minute procedure and I had to talk Urology into giving it up,” Owen explained one of the perks of his position. He knew he was doing a lousy job at pretending nothing had changed but finding out Amelia had slept with Mark Sloan had completely thrown him off his game.

Not only it had just made Owen wonder if casually sleeping with her brother’s friends was a recurrent routine in Amelia’s life, which he chose to believe wasn’t, he also felt the stinging flavor of jealousy racing through his system.

“Don’t go just yet,” Amelia stretched her hand and touched his elbow, hopeful his apparent bad mood wouldn’t last too long. She had missed him and spent her day yearning for the moment she’d finally be alone with Owen. Deep down, Amelia was hopeful he would invite her to go join him. He seemed to be fighting an internal battle, so she quickly suggested the first idea that came to mind, taking the responsibility of being the one who extended the invitation. “I am going to take a shower. Why don’t you wait for me in my room? It’s not even ten pm yet,” she pointed out, hoping with all her heart he’d stay.

Owen was still unsure of what to feel or think, but saying no to her was almost impossible. Before he noticed, he was already inside Amelia’s bedroom for the second time in his life.

While she went to take a shower, Owen kept busy studying the place. He spotted the painting he’d gotten for her at the auction hanging on one of the walls. A smile accompanied by a sudden rush of warmth in his heart improved his mood. The chief of surgery lost track of time as he examined the furniture around him, noticing a pair of jeans and a couple of cardigans thrown over a chair by one corner. Next to it, there was a small study desk. Owen put his hands in his pockets and distractedly gazed through the opened books, spotting Amelia’s distinguished handwriting on a white sheet filled with surgical notes next to a small computer.

Without anything to keep him busy, Owen flipped through the pages of the heavy neurosurgery textbook Amelia had obviously used to prepare her classes for the residency program a while before. The volume looked a few years old, despite well kept. He was still aimlessly looking at the pictures when he reached a chapter about intracranial shunts. His eyes were too distracted with the words when suddenly, a squared piece of paper slid from between pages.

After reaching for the floor, Owen stood still for a moment, holding the old photograph in his hands. It had probably been taken a few years before, because Amelia’s hair was longer than he ever remembering seeing and she looked to be in her late twenties. Wearing dark pants and a light grey shirt, Amelia looked as casual as she looked worry-free. Owen couldn’t help smiling when he saw the image of her contaminating laughter flawlessly captured by the image. The picture depicted perfectly everything she was: lively, positive, spontaneous and contagiously happy.

“What do you have there?” Her curious voice trailed off his thoughts.

Owen turned around and saw her finishing drying her hair with a towel, looking more adorable than ever in dark leggings and an old Harvard T-shirt. He flashed her the picture, noticing the surprise in her eyes.

“It dropped from the textbook as I was going through the pages.”

“Oh,” Amelia smiled affectionately. “I didn’t even remember that one…” She was taken by surprised. “A residency colleague was passionate about photography… She’d just take the camera everywhere with her. And sometimes, she would capture some moments and have it printed for us. I think I was in my fifth year here.” She said, approaching him and unceremoniously stealing the picture from his hands to take a better look.

Owen noticed the look in her eyes as she studied the image. He could see she was being assaulted by old memories. And judging by her expression, they were good ones.

“I can see clearly nothing much has changed.” He commented charmingly. She still looked every bit as gorgeous as she had on the day the picture had been taken.

Amelia smiled at him, on purpose taking a step closer as she took his hands in hers and played with his fingers.

“You don’t have to be upset that I slept with Mark,” She decided to go straight to the point. With Owen, it felt like she could simply speak her mind and the feeling was liberating. “This is not the same as that.” Amelia explained, obviously meaning their relationship in comparison to her casual hook up with their colleague.

“I am not upset,” Owen lied. He knew he didn’t have any right to feel jealous about her dating history. But that didn’t stop him from feeling it. “You don’t have to explain it to me, Amelia.” He added, hoping to sound supportive.

“It didn’t mean anything and I was just trying to prove a point back then.” She went on, ignoring his words. Amelia wasn’t opening her heart because she felt like she owed Owen any explanations; she was telling him the truth because she wanted him to know how she felt. “You see, all my sisters had already done it, even Addie. And I didn’t want to be the odd man out. As always.” Amelia explained, biting her lower lip with mischief. She didn’t exactly regret sleeping with Mark, but it hadn’t felt too differently to driving her brother’s car or getting into Med School after all her four siblings had already done it. “But with you, it’s different.” She explained, slowly walking Owen to the bed and making him sit on it as she stood between his knees and held his face between her hands. He had just been seduced of the idea of hearing her sweet declaration reinforced when her words surprised him. “You can’t kiss or sleep with any of my sisters. Promise me.” She childishly demanded, watching as Owen’s face lit up with laughter. “I am serious.”

“I don’t even know your sisters, I…”

“Promise me!” Amelia interrupted him, feeling like she was starting to get worked up.

Owen gave up talking and looked into her eyes. She was frowning heavily, almost as if anxious with expectation. The reality that she too could be jealous of him completely won him over.

“I promise.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling her closer. Amelia was still holding the old picture of her residency days in her hands when he gently took it, giving it one last look before commenting. “You should have this framed. It’s too pretty to be hidden in an old textbook.”

“You keep it,” Amelia replied, not really bothered with the picture. She ran her fingers through the back of Owen’s head, watching as he smiled back at her with affection and contentment. “Are we going to your place or what?” She straightforwardly asked.

“Yes,” Owen took her hand and gently got up, feeling better than he had before. “Let’s go.” He added as Amelia led the way.

Owen had taken the day off and it had served the amazing purpose of clearing his head. After the conversation with Derek earlier that afternoon, he’d finally allowed his mind to go to places where only his heart had wandered so far. It turned out that his old dream of having someone he could share his life and build a family with was still very much alive, and he’d just discovered that. The prospect of having Amelia in it only boosted his desire to accomplish everything.

Taken over by an indescribable sensation of bliss, Owen climbed the steps to his trailer. The moment they entered it, he kicked the door behind them, instantly pulling her to his embrace. He then kissed Amelia with passion, watching her melting in his arms as she moaned his name. He felt absolutely sure that he wanted to do that every night for the rest of his life.

But what Owen couldn’t possibly imagine was that this was the last night he’d go back to his trailer with Amelia in his arms, happily kissing him back. Life and love were too fragile. Things could change in a matter of seconds. And Owen was just about to be reminded of that.

--

 If anyone is curious, I got inspired for the description of Amelia’s picture Owen keeps after stumbling across this image.