#i am on vacation and hiding behind pillows so I can draw

[miaumiaoumao]

Tried to draw them with this pen

[phoenixyfriend]

For your suddenly omegaverse au what exactly happened? Like I think obiwan and Anakin hop over from cannon verse to omegaverse but I am unclear on if there already existed obiwan and Anakin in omegaverse. Did they die early or do they just not exist or are they just not force sensitive and therefore not a part of the order? Is there still a sith conspiracy around Anakin?

Context: Original Post, Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom, Soap Operas

So, from the original post:

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse

Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don’t exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood.

To clarify: There has never been an Anakin Skywalker in this AU. There has never been an Obi-Wan Kenobi.

They don't know this for sure when they land in the AU, though. All they know is that the Jedi have no record of either of them. They figure, well, maybe they just got lost in the shuffle. Anakin wasn't found until he was nine, after all, and that was only by great coincidence.

The rest of this post has almost no mention of the omegaverse elements, FYI.

Warning: References to the Tusken massacre, explicit sedation and isolation of a mentally unstable individual threatening violence.

I don’t want to make light of institutionalization and involuntary holds, but Anakin is a character with a history of violence talking about repeating such an act, and that’s... a bit of an extreme case.

------

It's not that hard to convince the Temple to let them run a mission that lets them stop by Tatooine or Stewjon. Anakin cares a lot more, so Tatooine it is! Obi-Wan can tell there's something sketchy going on with Anakin's particular anxiety about this, but he rolls with it. Anakin was very specific about the timing for some reasons, and at this point, it's easier to just let it all play through.

They go well after the whole “congrats, you’re omegas... somehow,” thing has happened, a month or so before Geonosis would have happened. Obi-Wan has managed to help the council sabotage and delay the Separatist side of the war enough that they’ve gained... maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months. Just a little more time to keep a few more people alive. Nobody’s reached out to Kamino yet, and Jango isn’t staging a failed assassination to draw someone in, either. They’ve bought enough time for Anakin to spend his vacation time checking in on his mom seeing if he exists here, and Obi-Wan can go with him.

They get to Tatooine. They wander about, and Anakin doesn't actually explain where they're going, but takes them straight to where the Lars farm is. Obi-Wan lets Anakin tell him that it was the Force that led him to the right area. Anakin can sense that his mom is in there, and Obi-Wan chalks up the relief from his former padawan to 'she's here and we don't have to look for her.'

Anakin is... panicking. Just a bit. What if he shows up and it turns out this reality's Anakin is off doing something completely unrelated and she realizes he's the wrong person? Or what if she doesn't recognize him and he calls her Mom anyway? What if he fucks up and says something stupid or just starts crying on her? She'll think he's insane.

Obi-Wan... takes over.

Anakin stays hidden, listening. Obi-Wan knocks on the door, and asks if there's a 'Shmi Skywalker' in residence. Someone in town mentioned her. He explains that he has a young friend of about twenty years--they're not sure, exactly, because the friend doesn't know his own birthday, but it's about there--who happens to be a Skywalker, and they're trying to see if they can reconnect him with a parent. They don't have much to go off of other than the surname... the Shmi that lives here wouldn't happen to have ever had any children about that age?

No. She hasn't had any children of her own blood, actually, her only child is her stepson, but she'd be happy to meet this other Skywalker, if he's in the area. It's always nice to find family, and connecting with those that were separated from you is a big deal on Tatooine. She's not going to look a gift bantha in the mouth.

(Cliegg, dear, put down the rifle.)

Obi-Wan promises to let his friend know, bids them goodbye, and goes to find Anakin.

Anakin is having a bit of a breakdown.

As one does.

Anakin insists that they stick around for a bit, that they do what they can to protect the farm, because that's his mom, even if she's not really his mom, and Obi-Wan can tell there's a Lot Going On here. He assumes it's because Anakin's upset his mom doesn't know him, which is a little irrational on account of their two options being "Anakin doesn't exist (and so Shmi doesn't know him)" and "Anakin does exist (but Shmi doesn't know this Anakin, so she still doesn't know him)," but Anakin's not a very rational person.

Obi-Wan thinks tamping down the current crisis is probably a little more important than chastising Anakin's attachment issues, mostly because Anakin's hands are shaking, and he's looking a little wild-eyed, and like. Obi-Wan's not great at dealing with Anakin's many and varied emotions, but he's learned at some point when it's best to just... roll with it Until There's Less Risk of Stab or Sobbing Laughter.

He helps figure out some minor fuckery with the Force to hide the family in the homestead behind them from visitors, and to warn them to hide when someone comes by. It’s not a lot--mostly just meditating and asking the Force for a helping hand--but it’s nice.

Except, well, Anakin keeps fidgeting. He keeps panicking. He has them coming back almost daily for a week, always too scared to talk to his mom but insistent on protecting her, and always looking at the calendar. Obi-Wan wants to get back to the Temple, but whatever the actual hell is going on with Anakin is too big to just ignored.

A specific day comes and goes. Anakin is a mess of jitters and nerves, and finally Obi-Wan asks just the wrong (right?) question, and... they visit Shmi.

Anakin says they can talk later, he just wants to see his mom One Last Time.

(Obi-Wan is getting more and more worried, but he sits through the incredibly awkward meeting between Anakin and his alt-universe mom, watches as Anakin has no idea what to say and almost cries, and Shmi just kind of lets him do that and Beru--a sweet girl, Obi-Wan thinks, and very practical--tells him that this is all very normal for reunited slaves.)

(Obi-Wan wonders if maybe there’s some stuff Anakin never told him about how being a slave affected him.)

(Obi-Wan had thought they’d moved past most of this, but..)

The meeting ends. There’s hugging.

They get back to the ship, and Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin fall apart. Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin cry and scream into a pillow, hyperventilate and nearly punch a hole in the wall as he rages about how it was all for nothing! Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin break into a million pieces in a way he’s never seen before.

Obi-Wan gets a confession.

Anakin tells him about the Tuskens.

It’s not an easy conversation. It’s not a short conversation, either. Anakin’s full of pain and misery and rising guilt, talks about how he’s been asking himself if it would be easier to keep his mother safe if he just killed them all now, except Obi-Wan would know, and be disappointed, and sure the Chancellor had said that they were little more than rabid animals, but Anakin doesn’t think he can kill the younglings again when his mom is still fine, and--

Obi-Wan sedates him.

He wants to say that he’s not proud of this, but... Anakin isn’t well. Anakin isn’t well in a way that is currently, specifically, revolving around doing extreme violence. Anakin is talking about going out and committing a slaughter as preventative maintenance.

Anakin stays sedated until they get back to the Temple, and he’s put in Force-suppressant cuffs--Obi-Wan quietly tells them to use something that can’t be sliced or taken apart by a droid specialist, and to avoid collars because Anakin was a slave for nearly a decade, and has a lot of traumatic associations--and in an isolated room.

It’s not a cell. Not technically.

He can’t just leave, though.

Obi-Wan hates himself for it, just a little. He doesn’t want to be doing this, not to his padawan, his brother, his son, but... a massacre. Even the younglings, he’d said.

(“He said he didn’t think he could do it again,” Obi-Wan mutters, half to himself and half to the mind healer that asks for his rundown of the situation. “I think he knows it was wrong, but...”)

(But he still did it, of course.)

It’s... better than Obi-Wan feared, but worse than he hoped.

Anakin is emotionally unstable. He has been, for a long time, but he’s usually functional. When the mind healer isn’t directly poking at his worst wounds, Anakin can more or less pass for... not okay, necessarily, but no worse than anyone else in the war had. He can say the right words. He can do a joint meditation. He can talk about philosophy the way a Knight that’s taken all the right classes does.

But part of Anakin still holds to the idea that the Tuskens deserved to die.

“This is my fault,” Obi-Wan whispers, more than once, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. “I should have...”

“He was an adult,” says Mace, who isn’t Mace, not the one that Obi-Wan knows, but a newer friend, one that’s still figuring how to act around him. “Young, but still an adult. He made that choice.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer. Things aren’t that simple.

“The timing can’t have been a coincidence,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself, later on, but in the same spot, and the same position.

The Quinlan of this universe shrugs. He knows Obi-Wan better than most, right now. Psychometry’s helpful that way, and sharing Obi-Wan’s heat hadn’t hurt. “Seems likely. You said Sith were involved and setting traps, and a kid like yours, with that much power and trauma... ripe for the molding.”

Obi-Wan whines, and then catches the noise and stuffs it back down, locks it up tight with the other ‘instinct’ things he doesn’t like to think about having. The sound already has Quinlan shifting closer, and the smell is... intended to be comforting, he thinks. Reacting to his own distress, which he’s probably just pumping out right now, because he still doesn’t know how to--

“Can I help?” Quinlan asks, and Obi-Wan lets him.

Someone gets through to Anakin, maybe, or he just lets himself be ground down, or Obi-Wan’s entreaties that he can’t teach Ahsoka until he understands his crimes get through. He won’t be trusted around the clones until the Jedi can trust him to do the right thing, they inform him.

“I wouldn’t hurt the clones.”

“Nobody’s going to believe that until you understand your crimes and truly, actually feel remorse for them.”

There wasn’t a crime, technically. Not in this universe. That tribe is still alive, here, unknowing of the fate they escaped by dint of Anakin talking himself down from committing another slaughter.

(He tells the mind healer it’s because Obi-Wan was there.)

(He might have done it, he says, if he hadn’t thought Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him.)

(He says it like it’s a foregone conclusion, that Obi-Wan’s opinion is worth more than the horror of what he might become.)

“We’re going to keep an eye on anyone talking to Palpatine,” Shaak tells him one day, after Anakin’s been mental instability hold for two weeks. “We don’t know for sure how far the similarities extend from your universe to ours, but given everything else you’ve been right about...”

“That bad?” Obi-Wan asks.

Shaak grimaces, fangs glinting in the light. “I want to believe we’d have never allowed a child into such a position, but I can’t know what political leverage may have been used in your dimension... whatever reason was had to put Skywalker in those rooms, we know the consequences now--”

“What did he do to my padawan?” Obi-Wan demands, because Anakin won’t even tell him that. Anakin hasn’t mentioned Palpatine since they left Tatooine. Not to Obi-Wan.

“Nothing physical,” Shaak manages. “But the lies he told and the suggestions he planted... it’s good they haven’t met again yet in this life. We’ll all be keeping them far apart.”

He wants to take solace in that. “Why do you know before I do?”

“Skywalker values your opinion,” she says. “Only yours. He doesn’t want you more disappointed in him than you already are, so much of what is relayed to the council as a matter of security goes no further, but this was deemed necessary to share. He agreed to it, if you worried we’d broken his confidence.”

Anakin’s therapy would normally be entirely private.

Anakin’s therapy would normally not be in response to confessions of mass slaughter.

He hasn’t asked to be let out, which Obi-Wan hopes is a sign that he realizes at least subconsciously that he was in the wrong. The mind healer says he could have been released under watch by a Master probably a day or two after he arrived, but seems to be drawing some kind of comfort in knowing he couldn’t hurt someone even if he tried.

Obi-Wan is Anakin’s emergency contact. His next of kin. His healthcare proxy. Anakin has a right to privacy, minor as it is in such a situation, and everyone recognizes and treats him as an adult, but... Obi-Wan learns as much from the mind-healer as he would have back when Anakin was actually a child.

“He trusts you to make the right decisions,” the mind healer tells him, careful and unassuming. “He has... a lot of conflicting opinions about many things, including the order, the coming war, the nature of human reproductive dynamics, the Code... but he seems keen on the idea that you are his best reference on morality and ethics.”

Oh, good, more horrifying responsibility.

“He’s better,” the mind healer tells him. “I want to get him out of here before he starts going stir crazy while still relying on the perceived safety as a crutch for his mental health. And he--”

“He’ll be staying with me,” Obi-Wan says, heavy as anything. “I know.”

“Well... there’s a war coming,” the mind healer says. She offers a thin smile when he looks at her. “I don’t want him going out, but it makes him feel useful, gives him a direction for the aggression, and... the Council is adamant that we’ll need him as much as we need you.”

It’s true.

“Did he tell you why everyone called him the Hero With No Fear?”

“No.”

“Ask him.”

[fan-written]

The Mission

Day 28, Distress

Warnings: Angst, discussion of cheating, and a breakup.

Seriously, there is no happy ending, so if that’s what you want don’t read!!!!! Also, forgive me if it isn’t quite that good. This was my angst practice that I decided to tie into Daminette December. @daminette-december2019-2020

"No."

"Mari, really." Damian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's just a mission. It will be over before you know it. I should even get time off afterwards to go on that vacation you wanted." He reached for her, trying to reassure her that it was fine.

She grimaced and leaned away from his touch. "Sure, just a mission. One where you pretend to cheat on me, then we publicly break up, only for you to begin formally dating your mistress." She stood and began pacing. Her hands waved through the air punctuating each word. "All the while I'll be hiding out in a safe house where you'll come and visit me whenever you can get away. Oh and let's not forget this mark is one Lila Rossi. The same Lila Rossi that tried to ruin my life and almost got me killed."

Marinette spun towards him and smiled stiffly. "Did I misunderstand anything, Dear?"

If he'd had less control over his body, Damian would have flinched at her sneer.

"Habiti," she frowned, "please. It shouldn't last long. We just need to know who has been smuggling the artifacts into the country. Some of them are magical in nature so we need to be proactive about it. Rossi is their public face and we need to get close to her."

“And it couldn’t be one of the unattached men on your team? Or elsewhere within the Justice League? You know, someone who isn’t living with their partner? Who hasn’t had several long conversations about marriage!? I thought you were going to propose, Wayne, not break up with me!”

Damian jumped to his feet at the use of his last name. Marinette hadn’t called him that since they’d started dating. “Pretend. Pretend to break up, Marinette. We would still be together, just not in public.”

Marinette walked around their coffee table as she spoke, making sure to keep it between them. It wouldn’t help much if this fight became physical, but it would leave enough time for her to transform. Damian could see a red Kwami floating nearby and he knew the others would be on standby as well.

“So I’d become the Mistress in hiding? You'd have me waiting patiently for you to return to me whenever you have a free moment to spare. Nothing more than a trinket for your amusement. All while watching you gallivant around with a harpy and manipulator who holds a grudge against me.” He scowled and clenched his fists. She wasn’t listening to him. “That hit last night must have scrambled your brain if you think for one second I’d be-”

“ENOUGH!”

She flinched and Damian regretted yelling at her for half a second. Adrien hadn’t been the most kind to her near the end of their relationship. But he needed her to understand that this was important. These artifacts in the wrong hands would be devastating. They needed to get to Rossi, and quickly, and he was the best one for the job.

“I am the one doing this mission because of your history with her!” His voice was quieter than before, but he struggled keeping it that way. Then again, Marinette always brought his emotions to the surface. “We know she would do almost anything to try and ruin you so I am the perfect candidate. She is more likely to bring me into her confidence quicker than anyone else because she will believe she can cause damage to you through me.”

"Lila would have you put me in a tower just to keep me out of sight. If she had access to gloat over me, even better!" Her voice matched his intensity, "But I've already saved myself from one tower. Another wouldn't stop me." She paused, defiance in every line of her body, asking him to hear her.

Damian searched her face, trying to understand what she was thinking. Instead her normally open gaze was shuttered and her face blank. He could only find a sliver of icy anger in her blue eyes. Finally she scoffed and turned away to look at the ground. Tikki landed on her shoulder and patted her cheek. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When she looked back up he still couldn’t tell what her thoughts were, but she was calm.

“I can’t stop you from taking this case.” She spoke softly. She wasn’t pleading, but it was a close thing. “I’ve never tried because I know what they mean to you. But just this once I’m going to ask you to not do this. You’ve only read about her, but I know her. She will use you and your resources to get further ahead. She will worm her way into the deepest recesses of your mind and make you believe things you know aren’t true. And if she doesn’t then she will twist you back into a version Ra's would be proud of. I don’t want to see you become a shell of yourself. I’m not sure I could. Please don’t take this case.” 

The silence was deafening. They stared at each other until Marinette looked away. She had pleaded her case even though she already knew the answer.

"I am heading to the Watchtower to let them know I accept the mission. I'll see you when I get back."

Damian turned and picked up his jacket from the back of the couch. He figured she wouldn't say anything else and began to walk swiftly towards the door.

"I won't be here when you get back." He cast a glance back to find her watching him. Her voice rang with promise, almost too loud after the fight. "If you walk through that door now, there won't be anything pretend about our break up."

He sighed and shook his head. "You're just upset. We both are. We can talk about it later when we both have clearer heads." And with that, he left her standing in their living room listening to the click of the door shutting behind him.

---

She hadn't been there, but he expected as much. 

The visit to the Tower had taken longer than he'd expected and he'd come home far too early in the morning for any sensible person.

He noticed immediately that some of her things were missing, but nothing extreme. Just a bag of clothes, necessities, and the miracle box. Her sketchbooks were still in the bookcase and her most recent commission was still on the mannequin. She would be back and they would figure it out.

Two weeks later and Damian was beyond frustrated with her and her refusal to return to the apartment. He knew she was still seen entering it since there had been no scandal in the paper, but never when he was there. They'd only met in public, with other people around, making it impossible for them to discuss anything related to his mission or their relationship.

He was in the middle of sparring with Dick, struggling to pull his punches for such a friendly spar. He was angry, but he didn't want to let on that something was bothering him. He hadn't told his family about the mission yet, but he knew he'd have to before he and Marinette staged their break up.

Not to mention he'd officially met Rossi that morning. She felt just as slimy and greasy as Marinette had made her sound. 

"What's up Little D? You seem distracted today," Dick asked when they stopped for water. 

He took a long draw from his bottle to buy extra time to answer. He probably should have expected Dick to pick up on his distress. "Nothing much." He sighed and looked away. He should tell them, but, not now. Later. "Marinette and I are having a disagreement is all. You know how busy this time of year is for her so we haven't had a chance to actually discuss it yet."

It wasn't quite a lie. She always had an off season fashion show to showcase her students work and give them the feel of managing their own line. But she had always made time to spend a meal with him at least. And they had. However, instead of home cooked meals they hadn't had anything more private than lunch at a busy restaurant since he left the house that day.

"That's tough." Damian couldn't stand the sympathy on Dick's face and scowled. He wasn't going to feel guilty for taking this mission. "Do you want to trade patrol shifts? I have tomorrow off at the precinct so I don't mind working tonight so you can talk to Nettie."

It wasn't a bad idea. Marinette knew his shifts so she would likely avoid him until the next time Oracle made up the patrol schedule.

"Sure," he said with a short nod. "Thanks Richard."

---

Damian had expected to surprise Marinette and finally make her talk to him. Instead he was shocked to find the apartment empty and an envelope with his name sitting on the counter.

Damian,

I love you.

I expected to spend the rest of my life with you, but this is something I draw the line at. I have spent the last two weeks trying to understand why you have to be the one doing this, and while you may get results faster, it's at the cost of my emotions and trust. The cost of our relationship.

You left me, Damian, in the middle of our home to go accept a mission asking you to cheat on me. I tried to get over it, but I like to think I am worth more than that. 

I'll make appearances, be a dutiful girlfriend until the breakup, but that's it. That's all I'm doing for this mission of yours. 

Lila Rossi has taken so much from me, but I refuse to let her take my dignity and self worth. Even if you and I are the only ones who know it.

Goodbye Damian al Ghul-Wayne. I wish you all the luck in the world.

Marinette

Damian reread her letter. And again.

A third time had him rushing to their bedroom. The sound of paper being crushed faint behind the beat of his heart.

Gone. Everything was gone. Her plants, half the pictures, even the cat pillow she refused to give up.

Gone.

Only a handful of clothes and toiletries were left. Enough that when the official breakup happened she would look like she was moving out.

She was gone and he knew she wasn't coming back. Even if he stepped away from this mission now, she wouldn't return to him. 

There was one thing she'd always told him she had trouble fixing once broken. And he had promised her he wouldn't forget. Promised he wouldn't shatter her the same way they had. But he'd forgotten.

He'd forgotten how fragile her trust was.

---

It had taken longer than he thought, but it was over. Lila, no she was Rossi once again, had been more paranoid than they had thought. 

But they had been correct in assuming she would take to Damian the quickest. Whether it was because he was a Wayne, or because he had been dating Marinette they couldn't be sure. But eventually she chose him.

Damian scrubbed his skin raw for hopefully the last time. Rossi had just been taken in by the Justice League and he planned on never seeing her again. He was sure he would feel her hands on him for far longer.

His apartment was too quiet, he thought as he climbed out of the scalding water. It always was these days. No Marinette sewing or baking. No Kwami fighting over the remote. Not even himself lately, flipping through a book in all the chaos.

He missed her. Her passion. Her fierceness. Her sense of justice. Occasionally he had the chance to watch her take down a thug three times her size while wearing whatever gem she chose that night. Occasionally he lost his breath in awe and gained a new bruise for it.

He missed her quiet. Her peace. Her strength. The papers weren't kind to either of them when they staged the breakup. It had happened earlier than he wanted, but all of Gotham could tell something was wearing on their Sunshine. They were even more invasive when she moved out. But Marinette had simply strut out as a modern version of Princess Diana, with her head high. The crowds parted before her without a single question asked. 

He had walked out a week later with Lila on his arm and a glare in his eye. They failed to make the front page much to Lila's ire and his secret glee. Marinette had, in her gorgeous dress and new haircut. Damian would have begged to run his hand through the shiny strands if they had seen each other in that first week.

He missed her nervousness. Her dramatics. Her chaos. She had held her student show two weeks after their breakup and he knew exactly what had been happening backstage. Only this time her usual panic attack would be handled by her students. The freakout at the sound booth would be calmed only after listening to the technician give her another rundown of the show.

And when she walked down the runway in her traditional, single contribution to the show he was blown away. A whirlwind of fabrics and color left the entire audience gaping. She had created a wedding dress out of scraps from all of her students' lines. She was forests of greens and blues, mountains of grays and browns, and sunsets of pinks and oranges. She was hurricanes, tsunamis, and earthquakes. It was creation and destruction, a beginning and end. A power. And yet it was delicate and oh so feminine, even with the torn edges of a runaway bride. She had been chaos and order and the world loved it.

Papers were arguing if it had been inspired by her recent breakup. The elite were whispering about who she'd been seen with. Any unattached bachelor or bachelorette were vying for her attention at every charity and gala. She merely floated through leaving a broken heart in every chest.

But what Damian really missed was her kindness. Her friendship. Her love. The way she smiled when he walked in the door. The blanket she used to drape over their laps while they watched a movie. How she looked for him first after a round with the Rogues. 

She didn't do that anymore. Her smile became a nod in his direction. That blanket was now shared with Cass, or Tim, or Duke. Even Jason would get to share with her on the few times he showed up to family movie night. He still caught her looking for him first, but it was only out of habit now.

Damian almost resented his family. She was good friends with all of them. She ran patrols with them. She trusted them, more than him. But he couldn't. They were his only chance to be near her. To see her relaxed, away from the public eye. The way she used to be with him.

---

"Your partner should be here any minute, Black Cardinal."

Damian nodded at Wonder Woman and leaned back in his seat. He pondered over who it could be. It had been over a year since the end of the Rossi case and some of his family still hadn't fully forgiven him for taking it. He understood. He couldn't quite forgive himself either.

They may have caused more than one problem for the Justice League. It often led to fights when they were paired. If not, then it was miscommunication problems between them. One unwilling to fully trust the other. 

He knew it couldn't be Red Robin. Last time they both ended up in the hospital for injuries they gave to each other. That happened when Damian learned that Tim had actually been working up the courage to ask Marinette out the same night he had. A small part of Tim hated Damian for taking that chance first and then throwing it away.

Red Hood was a hard no when it would be just the two of them. Jason apparently took Marinette in for the first few weeks of The Mission. He saw the aftermath of Damian's decision and Damian couldn't help the bitter jealousy he felt when he saw the other. Their meetings were never pretty. Or quiet.

Maybe it was Spoiler? Stephanie may have raged at him when she first found out, but she always put it aside when they had work.

A flash of red in his peripheral pulled him out of his thoughts. He quickly stood to look fully at the newcomer walking in and couldn't help but gape.

Her style had changed since he had last seen her. She was darker now, finally matching the shadows of her city. Beautiful embroidery detailed the red spots on the black Hanfu robe top. The sash at her waist was a dark red that matched her leggings. It wasn't traditional, but it was practical. He knew she must have felt some pride in showing a part of her heritage. 

In the end he could only think one thing. Ladybug was beautiful.

Damian continued to stare and was shocked to notice the bottom of the robe split in half and fluttered like wings. He could faintly remember reading that that only happened when beetles were agitated, but that wasn't important. 

She was in front of him, in uniform. She was going to be his partner for this mission. She was here.

"-ill you be okay working with him?"

They had been talking. She had spoken and he wasn't paying attention. What did Diana ask? Oh, that.

Damian tried not to hold his breath while she studied him. He had changed too. She had been right that Rossi would twist him; He was deadlier, less caring about accidental casualties.

But she was blank faced again, just like that night. In fact it was better than before. He realized then that he didn't know her anymore. That he would never know her that way again. It twisted his stomach and made his chest ache in a now familiar pain.

And then she spoke and his heart split again.

"It's fine, Wonder Woman. I know I can always trust Black Cardinal to complete a mission."

[thefanficmonster]

Hey Vy, 📚🌻 here!

I was on a video call with a friend of mine and she said: oh, do you still like Corpse?

I opened my mouth and she said instantly "i shouldn't have asked...", I mean I know that I do talk a lot about him but-- I can't blame her, after she said that I re-told her about his life and how cool he is and about the songs and the merch and---

Well, today I'm here to give you your next three words, which are: Alarm, recorder (the instrument that's also called flute), Crayons

Btw, today's music recomendation is: And so it went by The pretty reckless featuring Tom Morello. Actually the new The Pretty Reckless album is full of great songs but and so it went is my favorite!

Love, 📚🌻

Hi darling 📚🌻 !

I felt your experience with your friend on a personal level 😅 I've had that happen to me several times too. Don't worry though, I bet everyone in the Corpse fandom has experienced something similar at least once 😂

Thank you for yet another great music recommend, you're literally THE BEST 😘

Today's fic will be a father-daughter fic for the special occasion of Father's Day. Prepare to see a side of Gwen rarely seen by the world.

~ Enjoy 💕

Mission

Pairing: Ethan Winters & Daughter OC (Gwen Winters)

Warnings: None :)

Genre: FLUFF, Domestic Fluff

Being on vacation and all, the last thing Gwen expected was to hear her alarm blaring at 7 AM. Thinking she has set it on accident, she turns it off and rolls over in an attempt to prolong her slumber. However, much to her horror, seconds later she hears the door to her bedroom open, feeling a shake to her shoulder shortly after.

"Gwen, it's time to get up." Ethan's familiar voice floods the room as a hushed whisper, gently waking up the twenty-three-year-old.

"What do you want, dad?" Gwen grumbles, face 90% hidden in her pillow as she refuses to give a response to the continuous tries on Ethan's part of getting her out of bed.

Him and Mia have been her adoptive parents for a little less than a decade at this point and yet, her referring to them as ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ still catches them off-guard sometimes in the best way possible. Never fails to make them smile too.

“I wanted to go shopping for some toys for Rose while Mia’s asleep.“ Ethan explains when Gwen finally rolls over to face him.

She gives him a lazy smile, “Why? Cause you know she’ll say you’re gonna flood the house with toys by the time she’s even a year old?”

He sheepishly nods, “It’s not my fault there are so many cool toys at the store and I just can’t help myself.” He shrugs, “Though, I know she’ll still be the most obsessed with that monkey you got her.”

She sits up as a pointless attempt at hiding the little emotional spark that his words lit up in her, “Give me fifteen minutes, I’ll meet ya downstairs.”

With a grateful nod and a grin Ethan exits her room, quietly closing the door behind him.

                                                               *  *  *

“Dad, what is a less-than-a-year-old baby gonna do with crayons? It clearly says they’re meant for three-year-olds and above.“ Gwen rolls her eyes, snatching the 24 crayon packet from Ethan who’s been super indecisive on what to get. She’s only there to give him opinions, seeing as how she could never choose a proper toy for a baby. Well, one cannot be sure how true that is since Rose’s favorite toy was a gift to her by Gwen - maybe she’s got some skills she doesn’t know about after all.

“Why not? You can draw too. You’re older than three, right?“ He turns to look at her with teasingly narrowed eyes and a barely contained smile.

It manages to get a laugh out of her which makes him feel quite accomplished. She rolls her eyes and puts the pack of crayons back on the shelf, “I may be older than three but I bet you Rose could draw a better picture than I can. I suck at drawing, which is why I’m never allowed to illustrate the plans to the squad. Piers is the only one who understands what I’m trying to describe.” Gwen shakes her head as the two continue down the aisle. She struggles to keep her mind focused on the current task and not let it wander. God forbid she lets it roam, it’ll bring her no good whatsoever.

It’ll start wondering why she feels homesick while being at home. That question is not one she wants answered - not honestly at least.

“Really? Only Piers?“ Ethan nudges the topic cautiously, glancing at Gwen out of the corner of his eye to make sure she won’t pounce at him. Truth be told, you can never be sure with Gwen, she’s highly unpredictable. 

But when he sees her sigh, he’s pretty darn relieved.

“No...not only Piers.“ Is all she says, but her words speak louder than their meaning, explaining to Ethan a lot more than what she’s willing to say out loud for herself.

The toll this subject takes on her is painfully obvious so the blond man decides not to continue pursuing it. Instead he hums knowingly before reaching for another toy and showing it to her as a distraction, “Well, maybe you suck at drawing, but I bet you can play the recorder like a professional.”

This earns him another laugh, a more wholehearted one, coming straight from the bottom of her soul, honest and genuine. And grateful, grateful he got her mind off the BSAA and....and everything else.

She links her arm with his, resting her head on his shoulder, taking the recorder from him to put it back where he took it from. Still, she mumbles, “Thanks dad.”

Again: few words, a lot of meanings and one important message he hears loud and clear.

“Anytime, Gwen.“

[forlornmelody]

The Fantabulous Vacation of One Harley Quinn and Her Girlfriend Poison Ivy

Rating: T (suggestive themes, cartoon violence)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:   Harley's been burning the wick at both ends and Ivy knows just the thing to help. But it takes more than just a change of scenery to get Harley to let go.

Note:  Commission for @rookie009

~*~*~*

“You’re probably wondering Mr---Watchman--”

“Tockman.” Mr. Watchman spits. “William Tockman.”

“Why I’ve brought you here today.”

Mr. Watchman rolls his eyes. “I imagine you’re going to tell me.” 

“Ah! Good. You’ve stopped struggling. Progress, Mister!” Harley boops him on the nose. Maybe she made the binding too tight? “I’m not cutting off your circulation, am I?” She leans in close. “Are you comfortable? I need you comfortable.” 

“I’m tied up in ropes, wench!”

“Ah, see! This is what I’m talking about!” Harley sits across from him and his fainting couch, pulling her pen from her bun and making a heading on her notepad. “You have a whore madonna complex.” Chewing her pen, she murmurs, “perhaps from the trauma of your wife’s death? Cystic Fibrosis, was it?”

Her new patient says nothing. “Mister?” Harley glances up. “Willy?”

“Help!” William Tockman dangles from his left ankle, suspended in air by a beefy vine.  “She’s gonna kill me!” 

“Oh please. You’re hardly worth the trouble.” Ivy steps around him and the vine, brushing the dust off her hands. “Hi Harls!” How she got the vines up this far on this abandoned apartment building, Harley has no idea. But it sure has a lot of brick to climb. 

“Ivy!” Harley doesn’t so much as hug her as ram her at full speed. 

Her target, used to such behavior by now, braces for impact and manages to hug back. Harley takes a big whiff. “Mm. Jasmine?”

“Lilacs.” Ivy peers over at Clock King. “You...uh, busy?”

“Mm yeah. A little tied up at the moment. Or he is, at least.”

“So I see.” Ivy chews her lip, staring out the window as if she had left a reminder there. She makes a face as the draft stirs some of the painting tarp discarded on the floor. “I was thinking maybe we could get out of town for a bit.”

“HELP.” 

“Are you asking for help, Billy? Or do you prefer Willy?”

“HELP ME! THESE WOMEN ARE CRAZY.” 

“Great!” Harley says brightly. “Admitting you need help is the first step towards healing!”

“Harls? Are you even listening?”

“You need help dismantling another CEO along with his company?”

“No.”

“Fundraiser for conservation efforts?”

“Harley--”

“Pride pre-game with Kitty?”

“Harleen.” That stops Harley short. Ivy never calls her that. Mostly cause she hates getting called Pamela with an undying passion. Probably childhood trauma. But Harley digresses. 

Ivy sighs. “Sorry. Look. I need a vacation. We need a vacation.”

“I need help!” 

“SHUT UP ALREADY.” Ivy and Harley say it together, and Ivy waves a hand, muffling Harley’s captive, er, patient with a particularly broad leaf. 

“Mm... I’m a little busy--”

Ivy glances at Tockman, finally. “I can see that.”

“Lemme look at my calendar. Mmm.. maybe...next year? Definitely the one after that.”

“Harls.”

“I know, I know. But there’s my derby team, missions with Task Force X, the Birds of Prey, my day job--”

“I know.” Ivy takes her hands, gently, and squeezes them. It’s the softness that stops Harley in her tracks. “It’s why you need some time off.”

“But--”

“Shh. I already have plane tickets and a hotel booked. You don’t have to plan a thing.”

Harley can’t help the blush creeping up on her cheeks. “Aww, shucks, Ives. When are we leaving?”

“Now. The plane’s departing in--shit. We gotta go.”

“MMRPH.” 

“Oh, right.” Ivy releases Clock King with a patented thud as she shoves Harley out the door. “Bye!”

-----

“So, we’re we goin’?” Harley pushes the arm rest out of the way and rests her chin on Ivy’s shoulder. She glances at Ivy’s phone as if it’ll give her some clues. She spots a sudoku puzzle. “Japan?”

“No.”

“The Amazon?”

“Nope.”

“Themyscyra?” 

Ivy gives her a look. “Really?”

“Er….my mom’s? Please say it’s not my mom’s.”

“It’s not your mom’s.”

“Thank God.”

“Also, why would we fly to your mom’s house when we could easily drive? Or take a commuter bus?”

“Good point. Mm.”

Ivy smooths Harley’s hair out of her eyes. “It’s a surprise.” She snatches a quick kiss before the flight attendant rolls by. “You’ll love it.”

In this moment, Harley’s pretty sure she’d love anywhere as long Ivy’s there with her. She’s lit up by the light of the tiny window behind her, and her crimson locks glow like an angel’s. But Harley knows well enough that neither of them are anywhere close to innocent. “Say, how’d you get us past security?”

Ivy winks at her. 

“No casualties?”

Her lover mockingly brushes her own chest like a scandalized church mouse. “I would never!” she snorts. “They’ll be fine. Just a little dazed and confused.”

Harley leans her head on Ivy’s shoulder. “I know the feelin’.” And really! Harley’s proud of her. Ivy’s never been one to follow rules or care for humans. But she tries for Harley. Why she bothers when Mistah J never seemed to care, Harley has no idea. But it means the world to her. 

-----

The taxi drops them off in front of a large revolving door. But it’s not the gold handles that capture Harley’s attention. 

It’s the lush plants growing from every nook and cranny on the place. Harley bets Ivy could spend an hour naming all of them (scientific names and personal names.) Butterflies and hummingbirds in every color of the rainbow--and the faint buzzing of bees. A solitary stream crosses their path, and a wooden bridge stretches over it. Garden terrace after garden terrace rise up from the ground to an open-air cafe at the top. 

And behind the walls and the hotel proper? A waterpark. 

Harley’s eyes go as big as saucers. “Ivy! You shouldn’t have!” She squeezes her into a hug.

“Thanks, sweet pea, but I can’t breathe.” Ivy manages to get out.

“Oof, sorry. Here ya go.” Harley releases her, and Ivy pecks her on the cheek. 

“Best part is, they’ve a zero-carbon footprint and they’re waste free.” Harley rarely sees her grin so wide.” 

“Whoa.”

“They call it The Greenhouse.”

-----

Their first day at the resort passes in a blur. Harley shows Ivy a good time in and out of their bedroom. They go snorkeling in the ocean, ride the rides so many times Harley ends up upchucking their picnic at the beach, then make love at sunset in their honeymoon suite. Harley wonders if the management thinks they’re--well, they’re as good as, aren’t they? They don’t need rings or a wedding or a place of their own or--

“Harley?”

She blinks. Ivy only calls her that when she’s worried. Harley realizes she’s been staring at the chocolates on their pillows for God knows how long. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Of course!” she says automatically, pulling Ivy into another kiss.

Ivy kisses back, then runs a finger down her cheek. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?” The setting sun makes her hair even redder, which Harley didn’t think possible, and Harley finds herself toying with her curls. 

“Hey, I’ve been wonderin’.”

If Ivy notices the change in subject, she doesn’t mention it. “Yeah?”

“How come we haven’t seen any other guests? And how come we haven’t been arrested?”

“Oh! That.” Ivy waves a hand dismissively. “I rented out the whole resort.”

“With what money??”

Ivy shoots her a wicked look that sends shivers down Harley’s spine. “Ace Chemical’s investment fund.”

“Ooooh, you’re naughty.” 

Harley dives in for another kiss but Ivy puts a finger to her lips. And doesn’t let her suck on it. Rude. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Since we’ve got all this extra cash, wanna make a run at the casino? I hear they donate the proceeds to rainforest restoration.”

“Alright.” Ivy sighs and reaches for her dress. Harley has a sinking feeling that she’s going to bring this up later. Maybe if Harley’s lucky she’ll forget about it? Yeah. Ivy forgets things all the time. 

“Last one there buys the first round!”

-----

Ivy and Harley sit across from each other, an immaculate brunch setting between them and two mimosas. Her lover’s plate sits almost empty, and while Harley’s lies largely untouched. She keeps playing with her veggie egg white omelet, but the next bite never seems to make it to her mouth. “And then we can go for a walk on the beach later! Have you seen those beds? Right there on the water? Mm. Do you think anyone would hear us if we--”

“Harley, wait.”

“Like, the sound of the waves would cover it up, right? Mm. Maybe not. I’m loud. Not as loud as--”

“Harley, no. Stop. Stop.” Ivy presses her hands on either side of Harley’s face, drawing her to a standstill and inches away from her. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to!”

Ivy gives her a sad smile, shaking her head gently. “You don’t have to impress me, Harls. I love you.”

Harley, in typical Harley fashion, vibrates with energy. “But…I want this to be special. As special as y--”

“This vacation already is special. Cause you’re here with me.”

“But--” I’m not that special, Harley wants to say. But she knows Ivy won’t let her get away with saying that out loud. She wants to crawl underneath the tablecloth and hide until Ivy leaves. They always leave in the end. Once they get what they want. Mistah J--

“I love you, Harley Quinn.” Ivy takes her hand, gently, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And maybe. Maybe it’s that she doesn’t know what to do if Ivy stays. It’s easier to love someone who doesn’t love her back. It’s safe. Ahem. Emotionally safe, Dr. Quinzel says inside her head. For once, Harley has nothing to say. She’s too busy trying to keep the tears from falling. 

“You don’t have to do anything. I already love you.” Ivy bites her lip--the way she always does when she’s thinking hard. Like how best to resurrect a drooping petunia or a rose bush that has a pest. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “And if it’s not too much--too early--to say this: I always will.” 

“You proposin’ or somethin’?” The words tumble out of Harley’s mouth before she can stop them. Her cheeks feel like they’re blushing as bright as Ivy’s hair. 

“I…” Ivy’s eyes widen. “I-I don’t have a ring on me.”

Shit. Fuck. ShitshitshitFuuuuuuuuuck. “I’msorryIdidn’tmeanit.” “It’s way too soon.” Harley puts on her best brave face--the same one she always put on when Bats showed up and Mistah J magically was nowhere to be found. “Marriage is so outda--”

“Harley.” Ivy puts her entire hand over her face. “Quinn.” “I never said I didn’t want to marry you.”

“Mmphwr?” 

“Who wouldn’t want to marry Harley Quinn? You’re amazing.” She traces her eyebrows. “You’re the smartest person I know.” Boops her nose. “You’re impossible to kill. Holy fuck.” Runs her fingertip across her bottom lip. “You…” Ivy presses her lips together, looking down at the table. “You helped me love again when I hated everyone.”

“Pam.” Fuck, she’s getting misty eyed. 

“I mean it. I was ready to wipe humanity off the map and start over.” She laughs a little, her voice rough as she wipes her cheek with the back of her hand. “But then you came along and nominated yourself my new shrink.”

“Don’t give me all the credit.” Wow, okay. Maybe she’s more than just misty-eyed. “You saved me too. From Mistah Jay. From Bats. From what woulda been a really boring life.”

Ivy’s smile slips slightly. “You’re not gonna die on me, are you Harls?”

Harley squeezes her hand. “Nah. You’re stuck with me.” Her words come out a little thick. “For richer or poorer.” 

Her lover leans in close, capturing her lips in a warm kiss. “That’s usually pretty literal for you.”

“HEY.” 

“It’s true! Guess I’ll have to see if Ace or maybe Lexcorp has any funds they won’t miss. I need to get that ring soon. Garnet? Spinel maybe?”

“Aww, shucks. How am I gonna be surprised now?”

Ivy scoffs. “If it’s a real surprise, it’s not a good time for a proposal.”

“But what if I want to be like those girls in those Tik Toks? Like where you propose to me but like I got my own box in my pocket?”

“Harley. A ring box wouldn’t fit in your tiny ass pockets, and you know it.”

“You know what would fit in my shorts?”

“Harleen Francis Quinzel.” Her laughter dissolves in a kiss and Harley pulls her back to their suite. They got a lot of planning to do. Though Harley has a pretty good feeling they’re not gonna get a whole lot of planning done today. But Harley’s okay with that. Pam’s always been the top of her to-do list anyway.

[artbykays]

A Needed Vacation

Nanami x Reader

Okay I caught up on JJK and I am hella sad. Manga spoilers!! I lowkey wanna make this a small story but we will see how this goes. 

Warnings: Character Death, Sadness, Angst, hella angst

* You have been with Nanami for a while and it is before, and after the Shibuya incident. Your cursed technique is the ability to see other curse users last 2 minutes of their memories. But you sometimes can feel what their emotions were before those last two minutes where. You aren’t a sorcerer, but did work with them. It is how you met Nanami Kento. 

October 31, 2018  8:00 A.M.

The day started quietly like always. Sun shining lightly in your small room, lighting your boyfriend’s features perfectly. His light blonde hair looked like it was glowing a small halo. The light also traced his shoulders and arms. You never got used to seeing how peaceful he looked. You knew he hated work. Always working overtime. His constant groaning when you asked how his day went, and the relieved sighs once he walked through your door loosening his tie. 

Moving some hair strands from Nanami’s face, you smiled softly. After a few more silent minutes, you got up to start your day. You figured that he planned on sleeping in a bit longer. Quietly, you sat up yawning and headed to your shared bathroom to freshen up before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. The smell and small sounds of eggs cooking woke the man up. He groaned a bit after realizing your side of the bed was empty. He knew you took note it was his day off, but you still got up early. Nanami just wanted to stay in bed with you just a while longer.

The taller male got up and headed your way, still slightly groggy. He carefully wrapped his arms around your waist, hiding his head in your neck giving it light kisses. You loved the feeling of mornings. If anyone asked, you were a night owl. But waking up with Nanami, made you look forward to mornings.

“Mhm...Morning.” You tilted your neck slightly and leaned back into his hold.

“Morning dove, I thought we were sleeping in this morning.” He nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck and sighed deeply.

“I got a bit hungry and figured we could eat, then go back to cuddling. I have some papers to fill out for work but-”

A deep groan vibrated slightly in your neck causing you to shiver, “Please don’t say that word. It’s a day off and you knew that.”

You chuckled and kissed the side of his head. He still smelled like his shampoo, but also like your home. Home. Home is with Nanami Kento, nothing more, nothing less. If you could take his work load and throw it out a window, you’d do it in a heart beat. These were your favorite mornings. 

“My bad love. Here grab a plate.” You turned the stove off and patted his arm that was snaked around you. “Let’s eat then go back to bed. I’ll do papers later.”

He reached into the cabinets grabbing two plates then kissed your cheek. You smiled and plated the food carefully before grabbing two mugs and filling them with coffee. Mornings were still quiet even when eating. You guys discussed news, plans if you needed to leave the house and of course, him checking in on you. With your technique, it came with a draw back. Usually some come with a physical set back, but yours was more mental. After looking into a past memory, it can be stuck in your head for days, or sometimes you get weird dreams prior to using it. Not exactly future telling, but there can be symbolism behind them or small clues. Once it was so bad, you hadn’t slept in a week before passing out on subway on your way to work. Sometimes it helps you to talk about them, other times you just pleaded Nanami to get your mind off it. 

One more reason you looked forward to mornings, the nightmares or memories stopped.

“You feeling okay today?” He spoke up after stirring some sugar in his coffee.

“Mhm. I had a nice dream last night. The previous memories are gone.” You smiled and took a bite of your food. “You came home like always, tired and grumpy. Something about Gojo, and suggested we go on vacation out of the country.” You chuckled.

“That doesn’t sound half bad dove.”

You guys smiled and continued to eat in peace. It wasn’t uncomfortable, the very opposite. You got to watch the love of your life at ease as he read the morning paper and drink his coffee. A sight you loved watching on rare occasions. 

After a nice meal and washing the dishes together, you guys headed back to bed. Laying down in the thin sheets and held one another. His head on your chest, and yours on top of his head, you traced small circles in his back and hummed softly. 

“We should go to that bakery for lunch. The one that we tried last week. Then we can stop by that book shop you wanted to.” You said while running your hand through Nanami’s hair. 

“That sounds like a plan.” He hummed while rubbing your lower back. 

7:05 P.M.

You both recieved the news. A veil had been casted over the Shibuya train station and it kept people in. All Jujutsu Sorcerers were needed, and you would come in once the veils dropped to aid in finding out any information you could get from beings or humans who had passed in the situation. 

“Can’t I just come with you? You are assisting in grading some of the kids right? Besides I can help along the way and you did say I was getting better at using cursed tools.” You fixed his tie as you pouted. “This was supposed to be a day off.”

“I know Y/N. As much as I would love having you there, Ijichi said you had to wait. We will get it done quickly so I can call you. Just get some rest. You need to be charged up.” Nanami pulled you in close.

“It sucks being the useful one in this life.” You chuckled as you dramatically threw your head back.

“See you later dove.” Nanami kissed you softly as his large hands found yours.

Smiling in the kiss, you gripped his hands. “Kick ass and please stay in one piece got it? You took a nasty hit last time.” 

“Mhm. I’ll call you.” The tall man slowly let go of your hands and headed out the door. 

The warmth of his hands slowly faded as you let out a yawn. You knew you should rest up knowing you will have to use a lot of your technique later. Making your way to your bed, you laid down and held one of Nanami’s pillows close before your eyelids started to shut. 

November 1st, 2018 2:27 A.M.

You jolted awake from your slumber panting. 

This smell. This feeling.

Rubbing your eyes, you grabbed your phone to look for the signal or text from Nanami.

No New Messages.

You called Nanami’s phone but it went straight to voicemail. Called Ijichi, same response. Gojo, similar. You didn’t really like the feeling bubbling up in your stomach. You knew he was okay. You trusted the sorcerers. But the energy shifted, surrounding your small apartment you shared with your lover. Fear. Death. Sorrow. They all smelled of rotting flesh and left a sour taste in your mouth. 

Quickly you decided to change into your uniform and head to Shibuya. It shouldn’t have taken this long. What is going on? Why can’t anyone answer their damn phone? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you hear people talking about how Shibuya is now like a ghost town. You knew this wasn’t right. 

Why did no one call you for back up? Why didn’t Nanami call you? Is he okay? Are there major casualties? All these thoughts ran laps in your head while driving but halted once you reached the outskirts of Shibuya. They weren’t kidding when they said it was a mess. Roads blocked your paths when you got closer to the train station meaning you had to travel quickly by foot. That smell of death from earlier hit your senses, but in a bigger wave. 

On your way there you discovered one of Gojo’s students passed out. The black haired boy was barely breathing but seemed like he was going to make it. You wanted to nudge him, but remembered the last person you touched, was Nanami. You could use your technique to figure out his location. Looking around, you found no one near by and closed your eyes. Concentrating on the feeling of holding Nanami’s hand that was bigger than yours. His calloused hands were rough, yet so full of warmth. Home and mornings. 

3:58 A.M.

The feeling washed over when you saw through Nanami’s eyes. But for some reason you only saw out of his right eye. You were in pain on your left, his left side. He was walking around the empty halls. You could feel his tiredness kicking in. He kept muttering. 

“We will go... maybe Malaysia. Yeah. We will build a beach house. Read all those books with Y/N...Y/N...I just want to be there with them... Yeah, that sounds nice.”

3:59 A.M.

Tears were falling on your face. “Where are you Kento?”

His thoughts halted when someone had touched his hand. The one with the stitches and two colored eyes he had mentioned. The one that made him work over time once. Nanami mumbled a bit more until he saw Itadori, the one student he wanted to protect his childhood. A soft smile formed on his face. He was relived. But you knew too well how this was going to end. 

“Mmm, Y/N and Itadori-”

No no no, you cried out.

“You’ve got it from here.”

4:00 A.M.

All you felt was as if everything exploded from you. Tears were falling fast, but the sound you let from the pit of your stomach to your throat came out faster. A scream that was heard all around. You didn’t care if anyone or anything heard you. Falling to your knees, you recalled that dream you had the night before. Why didn’t it warn you like other dreams did? Why is it that clips from others’ lives could be told in your head, but not your own or Nanami’s? It was a truly a curse.

You forced your self up and headed towards the subway station. Everything was so perfect until he left your hold. This morning was supposed to be perfect again, but it was far from it. No more warmth light leaking through your room to illuminate Kento. No more hearing his heart beat calming you down from nightmares. No more making fun of that ridiculous tie he was found of, before he left to work. Your home, was no more. Those last moments with him kept playing in your head.  

Fixing his tie. Laughing about it. Holding him close and giving him that soft and passionate kiss. Holding his hands and asking if he wanted you to come with him. It would have made things easier if you went right? Him just telling you to wait for your cue and then you guys would plan that long needed vacation together. 

Once you found the subway station, you pulled out the small blade that Nanami had taught you how to use. Only one thing was on your mind finding that being with stitches. You knew you didn’t stand a chance against him, but why Nanami? It was selfish, but why take away your love? Maybe finding Itadori was a better idea. You had to head towards where Nanami was left to see if you could find someone who maybe saw him run by. 

But little items caught your eyes before you got even close to the level that Nanami was on. That tie and glasses. You knew them so well. Carefully picking them up, you noticed the tie had some tears and burns in them. As for the small glasses, they had cracks in them. Tears spilled once again and you held them close. 

“You always left these together at home. Never on the floor...Why are they on the floor Kento...” 

Over your crying, you didn’t notice the being that had crept it’s way up from lower levels. The only thing you noticed was the sharp pain that traveled up your spine. Even then, you clutched the small items close as you felt something familiar. That tiredness that Nanami felt when you watched through his eyes. A small smile formed across your face as you closed your eyes.

Home. 

That warm feeling came back once you opened your eyes. Light seeping through your eyelids that were once heavy. In front of you was a familiar tall blonde who turned to face you, holding out his hand. 

“I think we need a vacation.” He smiled.

Taking that large rough hand, made you feel safe and warm again. “I think so too.” 

All that was heard was ocean waves hitting the shore. All you could feel was this man pulling you in close to walk along that shoreline, and kissing your head. “Where to?”

“I was thinking...Malaysia.” You smiled and leaned into his touch. 

“Oh yeah?...That sounds nice.” He smiled as you guys continued walking. 

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Arranged Chapter II

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating: None for this chapter (series: E)

Word Count: 4,261

Summary: Prince and Princess of your respective planets you both agree to wed, not for love, but for advantage. Now married, it’s your wedding night. You and Poe come to an agreement, while you grow suspicious about how much the prince actually knows. 

A/N: okay this chapter contains one of my favorite scenes i’ve ever written. I hope you guys enjoy!!

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“Please,” you break the quiet of the room, turning to face him, “I don’t wish to be touched tonight.” Poe blinks at the sound of your voice. 

The walk to the bridal suite was painfully silent. 

But not for Poe. His heartbeat thumped in his ears in synchrony with the ringing that pervaded his mind. The door clicking behind you and the lights switching on revealed a flower laden bed - the only sound now the clink of your bracelets as you crossed the room towards the refresher. 

Even now, as you speak, ringing your fingers before him, as you blink up at him, “I won’t. I promise,” he bites his lip, before swallowing the lump in his throat, and wracking his brain for something, anything, to say, “I’m Poe.” 

Maybe not that. 

You wrinkle your brow, but say your name for him in a half-murmur, arms crossed against your chest, “I don’t know how we are supposed to-” 

“Do this?” Poe leaned against the wall by the door, “I was hoping you would have more answers that I did.” 

You give a small scoff, “How so?” 

“Your culture does this—” 

You cross your arms, “Well this is my first time getting married,” 

“What a coincidence, mine too,” he smiles mournfully, his eyes flickering to the ever so nearly imperceptible pull of a smile, “look-” 

“No, you look,” you hold up your hands, his eyes catching sight of the intricate designs on them, he hadn’t realized that when he had held your hand, he was far too distracted by how your fingers intertwined with his and the reality of the weight of your hand in his, “I’m not interested in doing this.” you gesture between him and you. 

He tilts his head, “But you realize this,” he does the same gesture, “is already happening.” 

“You need an army, we need your technology,” you chuckle darkly at his raised brows, “Am I wrong? This is a business transaction, and it doesn’t need to be more than that.” 

Poe keeps his expression neutral, was he okay with that? Was he okay spending his life with a perfect stranger who remained that? Nothing more than a person on his arm, a name written next to his? “We still need to know each other, at least for the press and for the people — we're supposed to be in love. Hard to explain being in love without knowing a single thing about each other." 

Your eyes shy away, teeth chewing your lip, “Yes, that’s true," before you add, "it’s also true the press is naive and they can be fooled by something as simple as pet names and public displays of affection." 

"What if they ask-" 

"You know my name, you know my lineage, what else is there more to know?" 

He grits his teeth at your hands off approach to the rest of your lives, "What is your dream?" 

You turn towards the refresher door, the door whirring open, "my only dream is to serve my people — our people —" you glance at him over your shoulder, eyes unmistakably sad, "the sooner you learn that the better, darling." 

He approaches the door, leaning against its side, "Sweetheart, the quicker you learn it takes more than that to get me to give up — the better."  

——— 

You shake your head from behind the door, squeezing your eyes shut. The more difficult the chase, the more enticing it was to him — it was bait in a well laid trap and he had walked into it, into the maw of the monster, without hesitation. 

Easy. Too easy. This needed to take time — draw the line in too quickly and it could slip away just as fast. You push the bracelets from your wrists, letting them clink against the counter, as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You needed to be trusted by everyone — not just a lovestruck prince. No, but his friends, his family, and the Queen herself.  This needed to be done carefully with delicate precision until you gained their confidence and carved yourself a place in their family. 

You untie the veil from your head, letting the flowers fall to the ground, petals scattering. Then, and only then, will you be able to destroy it. 

—— 

Morning comes slowly — light taking it's dear sweet time to stretch over the horizon. Or maybe that is just how it felt. Morning always came early on Shar, lingering for far too long, until the sun finally sunk in complete exhaustion. You're awake far before dawn breaks — lying on the bed, free from flowers after you had cleaned the bedspread off last night — though you could still feel a few stragglers between the soft sheets and blankets. 

The prince had taken the couch with great insistence. It was all the same to you. You could fall asleep in the middle of a desert, skin against the scorching dust, or in the middle of your own wedding for that matter — so a couch was a non-issue. But, laying back on the plush pillows, you had to admit you preferred this result. 

You turned to look over at said prince, whose quiet snores filled the endless silence of the room. The next eight days could not proceed like this — not when you had him to yourself. Another Sharian tradition — the bride and groom spend eight days together in bliss. 

Some bliss — to spend a vacation with a perfect stranger. 

“Early riser?” a deep voice thick with sleep breaks the silence of the morning. Your gaze snapping back to the couch where you see hooded eyes through a few stray black curls, he stretches, muscles taut against his shirt, before sinking back against the couch. 

You slip yourself from underneath the covers, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, tracing over the soft material of your meridian sleep clothes, “You won’t find a Sharian that isn’t,” fingers running through the tangles in your hair, before commenting drily, “I see you’re not.” 

“I always sleep when I get the chance, and I usually don’t,” he yawns, drawing out the last syllables of his sentence, “Far too many meetings, far too many briefings.” 

“Yes, poor us, stuck behind a desk while others die for a cause,” you feel irritation prick at your nerves. 

He seems to perk up at your engagement, “I rather die for a cause then sit on the sidelines.” 

You look unimpressed, smooth brow wrinkled with tight lines, “But would you have anything to contribute? Especially if you sleep so late. You know what they say, an early bird catches the space slug.” 

“Would you really want to catch one of those?” Humor dances in his eyes, “Well, maybe I’ll have to give it a try,” he hums, before his gaze grows sharp, “if not for me, just so I can figure out what you’re hiding,” your heart stutters in your chest, but you quickly even your breath, brow furrowed in obvious confusion and lips pursed. 

You resisted the urge to look at your bag, the bag where you knew your weapon was buried deep under a false bottom, “I’m not hiding anything from you, darling,” your voice light and lilting, but it fails to persuade him. He sits, sunlight beginning to stream in, caressing the curve of his jaw and the sharp edges of his face. You cannot deny that he is unfairly beautiful, even your traitorous heart squeezes as he smiles. 

“Aren’t you though, sweetheart?” And your heart sinks at the implication. 

“Your first check in is not until the end of the week,” You are only able to get away from the prying eyes of the palace after retiring to the refresher, smuggling in the com-link in your change of clothes. The Empress is not pleased, clear even over the crackling static of this ancient com-link, “what-” 

“The Prince may know of our plans,” you hissed, uncaring that you had just cut off the Queen of Shar mid-sentence. What did it matter? You may very well be dead either way. 

~~~

Poe had been unable to get you to crack. He punched the wall.

“Kriff!” but at least he was handling it well. 

  He knew more of strangers’ lives than his own wife’s. And he knew that you knew just as little about his life. He spent the night before, your arm wrapped around his as he paraded you around to a room of virtual strangers. Maker, he had kissed you before he had even introduced himself. Tradition and its audience demanded a kiss, and he was all too reluctant to oblige. As his gaze found yours again, your eyes only seemed to dare him to do so — flickering to his lips and back, until finally he did. 

Lips pressed against yours as the audience watched, a voyeuristic act he would rather not repeat, but had to, several times throughout the night. Your lips were soft and kissable, and your soft gasp made him smile in spite of himself, swallowing it without another thought. 

But that was the problem wasn't it? He had no other thoughts — not about you. Pain radiates from his fingers, but he pays it no mind, gritting his teeth instead. 

How did he let himself conned into this? A marriage of convenience. His eyes drifted to the refresher door, where you had just rushed off to take a bath. Would this be every day? Forced to touch each other in public, but so utterly alone when together behind closed doors? 

He sighed, sitting on the bed, squeezing his eyes shut. He wished he was flying right now, navigating through clouds and formations, instead of marriage. He had known this was coming — especially when his Queen transferred him from the guard to royal diplomacy missions. He knew he was being shaped - shoved into a mold and forced to conform. And now, he was married, he glances at the band around his finger, before tugging the necklace from around his neck. Fingering his mother’s ring, he took comfort in the familiar shape and grooves of the metal that had rested against his chest for so long. 

He tugged at the metal. He told you he didn’t give up right? 

You emerged from the refresher, no expression on your face — it was weird. He couldn’t read you, other people’s emotions slipped from their faces and bodies with ease, most did without a second thought. But you were different.  Everyone else left footprints in the sand, but you didn’t leave even a single step to be found, erasing them as you walked. Why was it that he wanted to figure you out? Maybe it was because it was a challenge. Maybe it was because he found you interesting. Maybe it was because he was tired of being alone. 

Or maybe it was none of those. But he still wanted to. 

“I have an idea,” he says, and your eyes narrow — you certainly weren’t shy with your skepticism, “a deal.” 

~~~

“Is this even allowed?” The prince snorts in response. Why had you agreed to this again? A day for a day — his choice of activity and then yours — and of course his was first. Oh yes, because it would allow you to do the one thing you were supposed to do — get closer to the prince. And yet, why was that the last thing you wanted to do?

“Well, he hasn’t killed you yet has he?” The Empress’s voice crackles over the com, “that either means the fool has no idea or that he’s foolish enough to think he can outwit you himself.” your silence is far too telling, “there’s a reason I chose you for this, amira,” You nearly scoffed. ‘Princess’ she called you, when you were as far from a princess as you could be. “it was the way you slit throats without another thought. The way you followed orders without hesitation. Don’t grow a heart now. It only breeds weakness, amira — it doesn’t suit you.” 

Yes, you did kill others without a thought, but that’s because it required no thought. No input. It was simple. Easy. Cleancut. There was no need for mind games. You didn’t have to think about the consequences of your actions because you didn’t stay long enough to see them, you didn’t even stay long enough to see the blood sink into the ground. But — your eyes shift to him as his hand tugs you, all too firm and all too real — this was different. 

“I’m the prince — isn’t everything I do allowed?” you feel a migraine bit at the corners of your mind, as he pulls you against the wall as a guard rounds the corner, firm hands holding you there, until his footsteps echo no longer against the stone floor. 

“Then why are we sneaking around like escaped heathens?” 

“Because, technically we are supposed to be spending our time together inside our shared bedroom,” His tongue darts out to lick his lips, as you brush away his hands, reluctantly continuing to follow him, “besides,” he gives you an easy grin that dulls the edge of your annoyance ever so slightly, “isn’t it more fun this way?” 

This man would be the end of you, “Where are we even going?” 

“We’re going to see my best buddy,” and you furrow your brow, as he leads you toward a second story window, disabling the lock on it, the panel lifting out of sight.

“We aren’t supposed to be seeing any person besides—” You whisper, affronted, but only to hide the jittery fear of being outside the palace, away from everyone, where he could easily explain away your death as a lovers escapade gone awry, finding your body at the bottom of some ravine. 

“He’s not any person,” He sticks his head out, looking around, one knee perched unsteadily on the edge of the windowsill, “just follow my lead.” Mouth agape, you watch him climb out. 

"What are you doing?" You hiss, head snapping around to see if anyone else could see the crown prince climbing out of the window like a damn kowakian monkey-lizard. 

"Leaving?" He grunts, as you lean out carefully to see him clinging onto a lattice trellis, knuckles white against the wood, “how else were we going to leave, sweetheart?” The nickname is followed by a  loud creak of the wood. 

You cross your arms, watching him maneuver his way down, using each diamond like a rung of a ladder, until he reaches the bottom, dusting himself off, “Very impressive,” you say drily, lifting your dress to demonstrate your predicament,  “And how do you suppose I’m going to get down?” you crossed your arms, as he held out his arms, and you scoff, “no.” 

“I won’t drop you—” 

“No, more likely you’ll break your arms and then you’ll drop me,” 

“So you agree I’m taking the much bigger risk here, Princess,” you roll your eyes at the title, glaring at his still awaiting arms, “what other choice did you have?” 

You had a lot of choices. You could go back to your room. You could wait for the Prince to sulk and eventually return. You could sit in your room and slowly seduce him until he’s in the palm of your hand. It would be a lot easier — but would it work? He wishes to know you — to see you for who you are — but he would only see a smokescreen of a false princess, your hands clasped behind you so he wouldn’t see the scarlet that marred them. 

But maybe, you looked down at the relatively plain dress you chose to wear today — you could allow him a peek at the monster behind the mask. 

You hoist the dress above your knees, bunching it in front of you before pulling it between your legs. You separated the fabric in half, pulling it around your waist, before tying it off in a bow. 

You followed his path out the window, “Whoa, sweetheart—” 

You bit back a chuckle at his concern, you had climbed far higher things than this, and in far worse outfits. But he didn’t know that. And you didn’t plan on telling him. You made a show of it — fingers slipping, rattling the lattice against the wall, a squeal or two. You had to stop yourself from shaking your head at his tenseness, the feeling rolling off in waves from his locked gaze, even now, when you were almost to the ground. A few more steps and you were done — you glanced at him, finding him readying himself to catch you. You had stop yourself from rolling your eyes, a fall from here wouldn’t even kill you — 

The panel you grasped onto snapped, and you lost your balance, stumbling off the lattice, “Maker-”

You squeezed your eyes shut, but there was no impact. Instead, softness enveloped you. And your eyes snapped open, breath caught in your throat as you found his face an inch from yours. His arms curled around you, fingers brushing your bare legs and bunched dress and your heart stuttered. Warmth bloomed on your face, and another feeling gripped your chest, as he set you down. 

You refused to let your legs even wobble, but no words would leave your mouth, and instead, you found yourself staring at him. You wouldn’t shy away from his gaze like some embarrassed child — you clasped your hands tightly in front of you. 

But he said nothing, as he brushed past you, “We have to keep moving,” and you blinked at his haste.

“Thank—” 

He shook his head, glancing back at you. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, “I told you I’d catch you, sweetheart.” 

 And your mouth only hung open, wordless. You had never fallen before.  You glanced back at the trellis, the splintered plank had fallen to the ground beside it. But you suppose, looking at his retreating back, there was a first time for everything. 

~~~

“This is my buddy,” you raised a single eyebrow, arms crossed against your chest. 

“You failed to mention your best friend is a droid,” he kneels next to an orange and white droid, who rolls up next to him, “this is why you said he wasn’t just any person? Because he isn’t a person?” 

He shrugs, “He’s better than most people,” he speaks to his droid, “I know, I haven’t been able to get out to see you, buddy. I left as soon as I could.” 

You glance around as they chat. Yes, left the comforts of the palace to roam a relatively empty x-wing hanger. The air was cold — as it was in the early morning — but light streamed throughout the large space, exposing the dust that clung everywhere — even the air itself. The hanger had fallen into disuse, the panels of the ceiling loose and decrepit, the metal walls red with rust. A single x-wing occupied the far corner of the hanger, you wrinkle your brow, “Your droid lives in this x-wing?” 

“Sort of,” he rises to his feet, “he’s my last bit of home.” 

You tilt your head, gesturing around, “This planet is your home.” 

It was his turn to tilt his head, “Don’t you know home is a person not a place?” he glances at the x-wing, “or a feeling,” You open your mouth to ask another question, but he holds a hand up, teeth brushing his bottom lip, “Do you trust me?” You raise a single brow, and he shakes his head, “Better question, do you trust me to catch you if you fall? Because I think I’ve proven myself.” 

You look from him to the x-wing and back. You needed to get close to him somehow, and maybe this was just the way to do it. You needed to know what he knew. So you sighed, “Who’s flying? You or the droid?” 

BB-8 chirps, and he scoffs, before shifting his eyes to yours with a glint in his eyes, “Which answer would make you more comfortable?” 

~~~

Maker. Poe had missed flying. A clear understatement — it doesn’t account for the flurry of excitement that thrums through his body nor the thrill he feels as his fingers fiddle with the controls. And it doesn’t capture how it feels to sit in his mother's seat — peace. For once in his life. 

You shift in your seat, eyes flickering around the controls, fingers drumming against the armrests, and it’s the first time he feels that he can actually see you,  “You comfortable?” 

You blink, your fingers stop tapping, “As comfortable as I can be,” 

“Usually, x-wings don’t come with two seats,” he remarks, readying the ship to fly, “I modified this ship a few weeks back,” he grins at you, “otherwise you would have been sitting on my lap.” 

You do your best to bear no reaction to his words, but he sees the slight twitch in your jaw,  raising your brows, “But there are two seats now,” 

He turns back to the controls, “Yeah, there are,” he reaches over above your head, and his eyes can’t help but see your chest flutter with your breath, “Buddy, you all set?” he hears the affirmative beep, “Get ready sweetheart,” he flicks the final switches, as the x-wing began to lift off the ground, “we’re taking off.” 

The x-wing shot off the ground, zooming higher and higher, as he was careful to avoid any structures or pillars with a wide berth (he didn’t need another lecture about exaggerated near death experiences). He watched you from the corner of his eye, your knuckles white against the seat, teeth baring down on your bottom lip. 

“Do you not fly often?” He pulled the x-wing into a steady pace, gliding across the atmosphere of the planet, “I thought you would because of all the diplomatic missions—” 

You shook your head, “Most of those took place on Shar — the Empress is not one for travel, and she’s not one for giving others a potential advantage, no offense,” you add. 

He says nothing, filing away to never get on the Empress’s bad side, before tilting his head, “So, the amount of times you’ve flown?” 

“This is my first,” you whisper reverently, eyes turn to the glass, now filled with stars, “it’s beautiful.” 

He watches your fingers press to the glass, lips parted and eyes wide, and the hint of a smile pulls on the corners of your mouth, "Yeah, it is." 

You lean back in the chair, gaze shifting back to him, "How long have you been flying?" 

"Since I can remember," you raise a single brow. 

"I'm supposed to believe you were flying since birth?" He laughs, shaking his head. 

"I didn't know you had that much faith in my abilities," he flips another switch, allowing the ship to drift, leaning back, "my mother taught me." 

"The Queen flies?" Unlike yours, his expression gives away too much, and he shakes his head again. 

"My birth mother," he says, he could still remember the warmth of his mother's arms around him, her much too big for him helmet slinking down his head, and her soft voice lulling him to sleep, "she passed away when I was young." 

He was expecting questions — how, why, what happened — the same questions everyone asked. The same things everyone had whispered around him his entire life, but you didn't. Instead, a frown twisted your lips, fingers tucking your hair behind your ear. 

 "I'm sorry," your words small and quiet, "I know what it's like to lose someone important." 

“I’m sorry too,” He bites back the questions that burned on his tongue — you would tell him when you were ready, “I think that’s the first real thing you’ve told me about yourself.” 

Your brow furrows, “What do you mean?” 

“You’ve been a mystery to me the moment you’ve stepped through the door,” he sighs, head falling back against the seat, “And even now, I don’t know what’s running through that pretty head of yours, sweetheart.” 

Your teeth run over your bottom lip, “I’ve been told that’s part of my charm,” 

“What are you so afraid of anyway? Afraid someone will figure out all your secrets?” his fingers flex over the controls, before shooting you a wicked grin, and he hopes he didn’t imagine your shiver, “because I told you I already would.” 

For a moment, something dances across your expression, a certain tenseness leaves your body, but as quickly as he nearly finds your footprints, they are erased by crashing waves, or rather, your appropriately wide eyes, “Is that what the point of this little trip was? To find out all my secrets?” you echo his words, eyes falling to the stars again, “You’ll find it that it’s more difficult than a simple flight.” 

“But it’s a start right?” his thumb runs over the length of your knuckles resting on the arm rest, and he feels your fingers twitch under his touch. Your hands slide into your lap. And he wonders, why were you just so afraid? "How about we stop talking and we start flying?"

And surprisingly you smile, your lips curled wide and his heart squeezes, until it feels like it could burst, "And where are we going to go?" 

He returns it, a distinct feeling blooming in his chest, "Anywhere you want, sweetheart." 

~~~~

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[torisfeather]

Flufftober 4 - Fake Dating

Prompt by @vex-bittys

Read it on fanfiction.net or AO3

-----------------------------------------

Wooh, this one was not easy, but I managed to finish in time! It's the first time I'm writing fake dating, so I don't know if I did okay ^^'

Anyway, this one is Roman, Remus, Patton and Logan. So... Intruloroyality? I don't know at this point XD

-----------------------------------------

Okay, you've got this, Roman thought, that night, at the dinner table, and showed his best smile for his grandma.

He felt so awful, and it felt like everyone at the table could tell how uncomfortable he was. He couldn't even look at his brother or their friends, Patton and Logan, for too long.

Which was bad, because he was supposed to be Patton's boyfriend.

It had started maybe a month ago. When their obnoxious homophobic aunt Beth had tried to introduce them to yet another girl she knew – a coworker's daughter, or cousin, or sister, it didn't matter.

At that point, Roman almost believed she had selective deafness. He and Remus had told her, over and over again, that they were gay, didn't want to meet girls, especially not when she was planning dates for them. Aunt Beth was still 100% convinced this was just a phase and that they could be "fixed".

So when she brought another miss-what's-her-name to their place without their consent, Remus had cracked and yelled: "You can't stay because we're having a gay orgy with our boyfriends tonight!"

Roman had honestly thought that would be enough. Surely their aunt wasn't around his brother enough to be used to the gross nonsense he blabbered all the time.

But it hadn't deterred her. The orgy part, at least, she realized was just a joke. "You don't have boyfriends," she had said, her chin raised in contempt. "I would have known already! You're single and you can give a chance to Natalia here."

"No offense, miss," Roman had said at the lady, who just nodded, looked quite bored. "We are not single. We're dating… uh…"

"Logan and Patton!" Remus panicked.

"Uh, yeah! You know, our classmates?"

"I thought you said they were dating each other?" Aunt Beth said, suspicious.

"No, we said they were dating us! Have you had your hearing checked, Auntie?" Remus asked, and cackled when Aunt Beth gasped in outrage. "What if a bee got inside your ear and started making a nest inside your skull, and that's why you never hear us?"

"Well, I hope you're happy for wasting such a nice girl's time!" she had cried, and promptly vacated the place, followed by the girl.

The twins had high-fived each other and then the rest of the night was spent arguing over what movie they were going to watch to celebrate.

But it couldn't be that simple, right?

Because the twin's mother was very close to Aunt Beth, and so had questioned her sons when she heard about their "boyfriends". Roman and Remus's mom was way more tolerant than her relative, but she was also a gossiper and she couldn't know it was a lie, or she's rat them out immediately. So the twins told her the exact same lie.

Their mother of course told all of her side of the family, as well as their father, who told his side of the family, and now all of their relatives thought they were dating their childhood friends.

So that wasn't ideal, and Roman thought of coming clean, or at least "breaking up", but Remus won him over arguing as long as they believed that, their aunt and any other relatives would stop trying to set them up with people. Which, honestly? Worth it.

And then winter break happened.

Every winter break, the twins and their parents would fly a couple states north, where their grandparents lived, and spend the holidays there with the rest of their family. And it was always expected from the younger people to bring any significant other at least once during that time.

They could have said Logan and Patton were too busy or had other plans, but the twins' grandparents were so adamant they contacted Logan and Patton's own parents to ask for them to join the family reunion, and not knowing anything about the situation, they all agreed on one week.

When they told Logan and Patton what the whole deal was, they were surprisingly calm about it. Logan, especially, thought this was one solution. Patton, of course, bless his little heart, wanted to come clean and apologize, but after Remus begged him not to unleash their aunt on them again, he took pity and agreed.

So Patton would pretend to be Remus's boyfriend, and Logan would act as Roman's. What could go wrong?

Several things, actually. Starting with everyone's ability to act. Roman, of course, was fine on that part. He was a theater kid and he knew what romance looked like. Patton was also pretty good at being all lovey-dovey, except he tended to look nervously at Logan whenever Remus tried something, because he was scared of Logan being jealous.

And Remus tried a LOT. He was a pervert pretending to romance a grey-asexual. And it showed.

As for Logan, well, he wasn't uncomfortable with Roman's flirting, but…

"Roman, your existence is greatly appreciated."

… He was the WORST actor Roman had ever met.

Okay, fine! It was fine! Their relatives were all kind of dumb anyway. The twins' parents didn't notice anything during the trip, and so far it seemed the charade was working.

Except, as days went by, another problem arose.

Roman had probably flirted a little too much. Or maybe it was all the time spent together. Or maybe it was from sleeping in the same bed.

In any case, he had started crushing on Logan.

Okay, not just on Logan. Patton too.

Which was a big no-no. No, you don't get a crush on childhood friends who are already dating each other. Especially in a situation where they are away from home, and thus already vulnerable and/or uncomfortable.

But he couldn't help it. To be fair, he had always been very close with the two. Just not that close. Not enough to notice how cute Patton's sleepy bed-head was, or how gentle Logan was when he was hesitant or stressed, or how warm Patton was when he was hugging him in the morning, or how hot Logan was with his glasses off.

Now he couldn't look at them without thinking "what if", and feeling itty-bitty butterflies in his tummy.

And he was certain everyone in the house could tell. And that was not how he was supposed to act right now.

So he kept his head low, trying not to draw attention to himself, which was very unlike him. And that night, at the dinner table, the boys had had enough.

"I apologize for interrupting, but I believe I have misplaced my phone and I am waiting for a very important call. May I leave the table?"

"Oh, of course Logan," their grandmother had said.

Logan stood and looked at Roman. "Would you mind helping me, Roman?"

"Uh…"

"Come on, you two hurry up, okay?" his cousin said.

Logan grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the corridor and up the stairs. Once they were out of hearing distance, he stopped and turned to Roman. "Now, please tell me what is bothering you."

"What? Nothing! I'm great, let's go look for your stupid phone…"

"Roman, in the past two days you have displayed an increase in signs of stress, you are not doing 'great'. And also, the phone thing was a falsehood."

Roman rolled his eyes. "Logan, just because you took a psychology class doesn't allow you to analyze me, and for the last time, I am okay. Now let's go back."

"I don't think that's right…" Patton's voice said from behind him.

Roman turned around and grimaced as Patton and Remus joined them. "Guys, seriously, you're making a big deal out of nothing!"

"Hey, I didn't say anything!" Remus argued. "You do look like you stuck a lightbulb up your ass and you're scared of it breaking at any point and turning your insides into a bloody purée, though."

"Great, super helpful bro…" Roman sighed. They were all looking at him, and they couldn't spend too much time or someone would come find them, and he couldn't tell them or he'd just make everyone feel bad, and it was all too much. He angrily ran his hands in his hair, pulling a couple time, closing his eyes. What the fuck was he supposed to do?!

"Okay, okay, let's calm down first…" Patton said, and now his hands were on his arms, and he was being so gentle. Roman let the others guide him into the closest room and sit him on the bed. "Now, it's okay Roman, you can tell us…"

"No…" he said stubbornly.

"Roman, we will love you no matter what the problem is, you can trust us!" Patton insisted.

"I promise, it's if funny, I will only tease you about it for two weeks!... Maybe a month."

"Remus, please! Roman, I promise it's safe to tell us."

"And, if I may add," Logan said, "we will help with the best of our abilities if at all possible."

Roman grabbed the pillow next to him and screamed as hard as he could into it. Eventually, it made him feel calm enough to look up at all the worried faces around him. He muttered something into his pillow.

"Ah, sorry, can you repeat that?" Patton asked.

"… I'm crushing on you and Logan. There, I said it, happy?"

Logan and Patton were agape for a moment, but Remus just shrugged. "Pff, me too, you're not special."

"What?"

"Bro, have you seen Logan's bare chest? He looks like a nerdy Edward Cullen. And Patton is the best cuddler in the world."

"How the fuck can you be so calm about this?!"

"It's just feelings, nobody's dead yet!"

"Yet?!"

"Okay, time out!" Logan asked, clapping his hands like a preschool teacher. "I think we need to assess the situation step by step…"

And then he stopped, because Patton was kissing Roman with all of his uncontrolled impulse. Remus cheered and kissed Logan, and for about two minutes there were nothing but kissing noises and sighs in the small room.

"So, um, does that mean you guys also…" Roman started, when his mouth was free again.

"For literal months," Logan admitted.

"That's so much time we have to make up for!" Remus cried.

"Agreed," Patton said, blushing. "We, um… We should go back, everyone's still waiting."

Roman's eyes widened and he fell back on the bed dramatically, hiding his face in his hands. "How the fuck are we going to tell them?!"

[alj4890]

Pregnancy/Parent Request

(Thomas x Amanda) as requested by many who wanted to see these two in pregnancy and parenthood.

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) from the And Then I Met You storyline.

A/N These expereinces the cast of characters describe, I have experienced first hand 😂. Ah. Parenthood. This picks up right after Autograph ends.

Masterlist

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject  @krsnlove @littleblossom357   @annekebbphotography  @gibbles82 @cora-nova @bella-ca @hopelessromantic1352. @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @pixieferry @lolablackwrites 

Encouragment

"I can't wait to tell them we're pregnant." Amanda rested her head on Thomas's shoulder. His arm curved around her shoulders pulling her closer. He glanced out the window of their private plane and saw the early morning sun getting brighter.

"You should get some rest." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We won't be in Cordonia until early this evening."

She lifted her head up and reclined her seat. Thomas retrieved a pillow and blanket for her. He kissed her lips tenderly and covered her up before pulling the shade down over the window. He resumed his seat and tried to focus on his work rather than his wife's surprising news.

They had not been necessarily trying to get pregnant, yet they were also not doing anything to prevent it from happening. Amanda had been worried of going through another miscarriage and secretly he had feared it himself.

He wasn't sure when they eventually seemed to relax and not think about a baby, but it had been at least a year of simply enjoying their time together. Now, here they were. Pregnant. He had no doubt she would be a perfect mother. He as a father though...he didn't know. He had never pictured his life with a family of his own. He hadn't pictured himself married either. Now he couldn't imagine any other way to live. Perhaps the same way he moved into the niche of being Amanda's husband, he could easily fill that role as their child's father. That was his hope.

Amanda opened her eyes and noticed his frown as he sat staring at a blank sheet of paper. She reached over and took his hand. "Why don't you rest with me?"

He was startled from his thoughts by her touch and words. Thomas set his paper and pen back in his satchel and reclined next to her. She smiled and told him he needed a pillow. He got up to do as she said, knowing she wouldn't rest until he did. She pushed the armrest that divided their seats up and shared her blanket with him. He reached over and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

Her cheeks were pink as she looked up to make sure the staff were nowhere around. He chuckled and kissed her again. She smiled against his lips before laying her head on the pillow. He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.

________________

Many hours later at the Royal Palace of Cordonia...

"Liam! Are you milking a cow?! Bring me the sippy cup!" Riley yelled out. She paced back and forth with her eldest son, Emerick crying on her shoulder.

"LIAM!"

"I'm coming!" He rushed in and handed her the cup before picking up a screaming baby. Their newest son, Ellis, had been born three months earlier. He pulled his hand back when he felt the dampness on the back of his left shoulder.

"He's done it again. He somehow missed the diaper and peed over his shoulder again." Liam told her.

"Then change him!" Riley snapped. Trying to soothe the two year old banshee in her arms.

He narrowed his eyes at her before pulling the third pair of pjs off his son.

"How is he doing this?" Liam muttered.

In another corridor...

Maxwell laid in bed with a pillow over his face. His head was killing him and he was exhausted.

Nadia softly groaned as she pushed repeat on the toddler program.

"Babe, I can't listen to that voice again. We have to find Xavier a new show."

Nadia looked over at their eighteen month old that was squating and standing up repeatedly in his crib to the beat of the opening music.

"He loves it. Plus, I'm not the one who binged an entire season with him." She folded her arms and frowned at the body on the bed.

Maxwell tried to smother himself with the pillow and failed. He sat up and met his son's eyes that were as blue as his own. His smile even matched his down to the dimples. The dance moves were also unfortunately his too. "I'm reaping what I sowed. I annoyed too many people in my past and now it is all coming back with my own child."

Nadia stuck her nose up in the air. "I was a perfect child. My parents--"

"Told me you colored all over the walls and that they had to hide candy in the neighbor's house because you would climb the cabinets and counters to reach it." Maxwell finished.

"Oh! You....YOU--"She strangled on a frustrated sound before leaving the room.

"No! She took the remote!" Maxwell fell back as the show and song started all over again.

And down yet another corridor...

"Dammit Jackson! Be still!" Olivia covered her mouth when the two year old began to run naked around the room singing dammit to the tune of Jingle Bells. "Drake! Catch him!"

Drake jumped up and tried to catch the fresh from the tub toddler who was cursing louder with giggles. He was still wet and slipped out of his father's grasp.

Olivia was beginning her third trimester of pregnancy and placed a hand against her ribs when she felt what had to be a foot pressing against her lung. "Come on kid, give me a break." She muttered.

Drake gave up trying to catch him. "Jackson Walker! Get over here so we can put your pajamas on."

"No dammit! No pants! Dammit! No no no NO! Dammit!" He said giggling.

"He gets that from you." Drake said to Olivia.

"He does not!" She pressed her side harder and took a painful breath. "Your kids are killing me. Slowly from the inside out."

Drake folded his arms and began to give a speech. "We have to be firmer in keeping a routine. Traveling back and forth to the capital and Lythikos is throwing Jax off."

"No sh--" Olivia covered her mouth and her eyes widened as she saw what her son was doing.

"Great. You almost made it to where we had one more word to get him to stop saying." Drake turned around and let loose a string of expletives. Jackson Walker was standing there proudly, with a big smile, peeing directly into his father's favorite shoes.

_________________

Amanda was smiling when she and Thomas walked into the drawing room where their closest friends were. It died on her lips at the expressions on their faces and topics of conversation.

"He peed in your shoes?" Liam asked. "At least you saw it. Ellis is Houdini with his ability to pee without his diaper or pants being wet. Just the back of his shoulder. If I didn't see it all the time, I wouldn't believe it."

"All the time? You usually take Emerick to get out of screaming baby duty!" Riley snapped, absolutely exhausted with parenthood.

"Asprin? Tylenol? Anything?! My head is going to implode." Maxwell glared at Nadia when she purposely hummed the song he had been stuck listening to over and over again.

Olivia breathed out and paced back and forth. "I think her foot is stuck in my rib cage. I--" she gasped then sat down. "I'm not getting pregnant again. Ever. Do you hear me?!"

"Of course I do." Drake replied dryly. "I didn't recognize your voice at first devoid of profanity."

Thomas and Amanda began to back out of the room when Nadia saw them. "Join us and rejoice at it being just the two of you."

"We don't have to do dinner tonight. It sounds like you have all had a --" Amanda began.

"I am eating with adults tonight." Riley stood and led the way to the dining room.

"Maybe we should leave." Thomas whispered.

"Maybe. Let's--"

"Get. In. Here." Drake yelled at them.

"Get in there." Amanda whispered to Thomas as they hurried to sit down at the end of the table.

Everyone ate silently with a few glares cast among all but one couple. Thomas reached over and took Amanda's hand, squeezing it in reassurance.

"Can you two act like normal people instead of that syrupy sweet crap?!" Olivia demanded.

Thomas tightened his grip on Amanda's hand when she started to pull away. "We have something to tell you." He announced

"Let me guess." Maxwell muttered. "You are going to some fabulous vacation spot to shoot a movie?"

"No." Amanda laced her fingers with her husband's. "I'm pregnant."

Everyone paused and stared. Thomas glanced at his wife and jumped when they all burst into excited squeals and words of congratulations. They rushed over with hugs and words of encouragement.

"Oh you are going to be the best parents!" Nadia exclaimed.

"There is nothing better in life than starting a family." Liam told them.

Olivia hugged her. She sniffed and wiped at her tears. "Sorry! Hormones. Being pregnant is the most extraordinary experience. You are going to love it!"

"I'm so happy for you!" Maxwell hugged Amanda and pulled a reluctant Thomas into it. "Group hug everyone!"

"Try and have another close behind the first. So cute to have them like stair steps." Riley said with a bright smile.

Drake leaned close to Amanda's ear. "Can you move or breathe?"

"No. Barely." She gasped at them all surrounding her and tightening their arms.

"Heh, you're experiencing what it's really like to have kids. Welcome to parenthood." He mumbled.

[nothingeverlost]

Fic: Nature and Nurture (4/?)

Summary: When Emma put her son up for adoption it was to give him his best chance at a family. When Henry comes looking for her ten years later it might be that he’s giving Emma her best chance at family too.

From the prompt: Emma had done precisely two good things: she’d given birth to a beautiful amazing son and she’d given him of before she could ruin him.  Or the one where Belle adopts Henry and we get adoptive mom/bio mom love story that’s healthy.

A/N: This is the one where the shit gets real. I’m really really happy with this chapter.  

____________

The apartment was too quiet.  She turned on the tv, but after a minute of flipping channels she turned it off in disgust, tossing the remote onto the coffee table.  She was restless, the job she’d come home for being over too easily.  She just needed another job to burn some energy and feel more settled, but it was late and nothing would happen until morning, and only then if she was lucky.  Weekends were slow usually if she didn’t have a case already going.

Emma turned on the radio but that annoyed her too, and she turned it off again when the song faded and a commercial began.  It wasn’t the sound she was hoping for.

“Crap.”  She had only been in Maine for a couple of days.  It barely counted as a vacation even, and a forced vacation at that, after being pseudo-kidnapped by her own kid.  It didn’t change anything.  Sure, she knew Henry’s address now. His name.  His favorite food and the type of books he liked to read.  She knew what his mom looked like and how she smiled.  And how her eyes got darker when she didn’t think anyone was looking and she was trying to hide things.

Nothing had changed, though.  

What she needed was something to distract herself.  She changed her top and pulled on her jacket.  At least she could head for the bar down the street and have a drink or three.  Maybe it would help her sleep.  Her phone started ringing just as she was about to turn out the lights.  Emma almost decided to ignore it, but she hoped that maybe it was an after-hours job.  

“Emma Swan,” she answered tersely.  

“My mom’s crying.”

“Henry?”  There was no reason to question who it was; she would have known his voice anywhere.

“She doesn’t know I can hear her, I’m supposed to be asleep, but I know she’s crying.  Something’s wrong.”  He sounded like he was crying too, or at least fighting off tears.  Emma could almost feel and echo of his arms around her waist and his face buried against her when he worried that his mom was sick.

“Maybe it’s just been a long day.”  Everyone had a bad day sometimes, it didn’t have to mean anything.  After all, she was raising a kid and working a job, and things had to get overwhelming sometimes.  

“Ariel picked me up from school because mom had a doctor’s appointment.  She hardly said anything at dinner, not even when I left all my vegetables on my plate.  And she said she was too tired to read to me.  She always reads to me at bedtime.”

Shit.  Emma covered her mouth, taking a deep breath through her nose to try and quell the acid rising in the back of her throat.  

“I’m scared,” Henry whispered.  Emma wondered if it was her imagination or if she really could hear sobbing in the background.  She looked at the time on her cell; it was almost ten o’clock.

“I can’t make it there until almost morning, kid.”

“But you’ll come?”  His voice trembled, but under the sadness she could hear the hope.

“I’ll come,” she promised.

It took her almost five hours, thanks to a never-ending construction project in the middle of town.  Last time she’d only had the bag she kept in the trunk of the car.  This time she’d stopped and packed a duffle with enough for a few days, just in case.  It was three-thirty when she pulled up in front of the salmon-colored house she’d only left a few days before.  All of the lights were off.  After a moment’s consideration, Emma shrugged and leaned back her seat as far as it would go, turned over onto her side and pulled her jacket over herself as a blanket.  It wouldn’t be the first time she’d slept in her car.  Hell, it wouldn’t be the hundredth time.

II

“Emma?”  She woke to the gentle tapping on her car window and Belle standing over her, wrapped in a robe that had seen better days.  She took a moment to stretch before opening up her car door, waiting for Belle to take a step back.  “I thought you went back to Boston.”

“I did.  I was in Boston, and then New York for a night and back to Boston.”  She closed the car door behind her, not worried about making sure it was locked.  After all, this was a tiny town in Maine, not the city.  She leaned against the car and took a better look at Belle.  Her eyes were puffy, her skin so pale it was almost translucent just below her eyes.  “You’re upset.”

“I’m fine.”  Belle wiped a hand over her face as if that would magically change anything.  Even as she tried to square her shoulders and smile a little Emma could see how tired she was.  She suspected the woman hadn’t slept much the night before.

“For a librarian your definition of fine seems to be pretty off-kilter.”  Emma crossed her arms in front of her, avoiding the temptation to reach out and use her cold fingers to try and soothe the skin that looked so sore from crying.  “You could talk to me, you know. It’s not like I have anyone to tell.”

“Let’s go inside before someone calls Graham to report the stranger sleeping in her car.”  It wasn’t a promise to talk, but at least Belle was inviting her in rather than being mad she’d shown up.  It wasn’t yet eight, and a Saturday morning.  Henry, it seemed, was still asleep.  Belle led them to the kitchen.  “Would you like something to drink?”

“I can make it.”  She knew enough about the kitchen to know that there was a jar of instant coffee in the cabinet.  Not her favorite but since Belle apparently was a committed tea drinker she was glad to find that much. The important thing was that it contained caffeine.  “You want some tea?”

“I already have some.”  She refilled the kettle with water, though, and turned on the stove even though microwaved water would have been fine.  Once that was done there was a pile of mail on the corner of the counter that she straightened by a fraction of an inch and a drawing hanging on the fridge that she moved to the side a little.  Her teacup was on the table and she raised it to her mouth and then put it down again without drinking.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”  When the teakettle started whistling Emma turned off the burner so it stopped making noise.

Belle pulled her robe tighter around her.  She looked down, and for a moment Emma thought maybe she’d forgotten the question or wasn’t going to answer.  Finally, she shook her head.  “I don’t know how to stop moving.”

“Yeah, I know.”  She’d been there before, pacing rooms, afraid that stopping meant she’d never be able to start again.  She took one of Belle’s hands in her own.  “Come on, it’s still early.”

Belle followed her up the stairs, though they paused halfway through so she could take a few breaths.  Emma wished she could put it down to exhaustion.  Henry’s bedroom door was closed and silent within.  Belle’s door was open.  The bed was still made, as if she hadn’t even tried to sleep properly.  Two photo albums were open on the bed, a handful of loose photos scattered on top of the quilt.  There were books too, all looking well worn; Emma was amused to see one was a romance entitled Her Handsome Hero.  There were some papers too, with small typewritten font in a start black against the white.  Emma didn’t try to read them.  She did notice the logo of the Storybrooke hospital.

“So the first secret of sleeping in a bed is having enough room to sleep.”  She moved everything while Belle shifted her weight from foot to foot but didn’t leave.  The photo albums from her quick look before closing them seemed to show a younger Henry and a Belle that looked very much the same.  The man she’d seen in one picture downstairs already; Finn Gold.

“Why are you here?”  Belle asked, not meeting her eyes.

“Because I am.”  She turned down the covers, at the same time kicking off her shoes.  She couldn’t remember if her jacket was still in the car or in the kitchen, but the quilt on the bed seemed like a far better blanket and the four hours of sleep she’d gotten didn’t feel like enough.  She contemplated taking the robe off Belle but decided it wasn’t that important, and steered her into the bed.  She went easily enough; the question was if she’d stay.

“Emma…”

“It can wait, okay?”  She didn’t know if Belle wanted to tell her what was wrong, or ask her to leave, or thank her or staying.  She wasn’t ready for any of them.  Emma pulled the blankets over them.  “Just close your eyes for a couple of minutes.  I’ll be right here.”

Belle bit her lower lip but she nodded.  “Just for a minute.”

It was noon before they woke up.

II

Belle woke up slowly, her limbs feeling heavy and her eyes not wanting to focus.  It felt as if she’d rubbed her eyelids with sandpaper and used cotton balls to absorb any last bit of moisture.  When she moved even enough to try and look at the clock her head pounded.  It was almost 12:30 and from the light streaming into the windows that didn’t mean midnight.

“Henry.”  She tried to sit up but her thudding head had her back on her pillow.

“He said something about a sandwich and cake.”  Emma’s voice was scratchy and dry.  The bed moved a little as she shifted.

Wait, Emma was in her bed?  Emma was in Storybrooke?  Belle pressed the flat of one palm to her forehead and tried to focus.  She knew Emma was here, had looked out the window while making her tea and seen the yellow bug that only meant one thing.  Emma had been asleep in the front seat despite the fact that she’d left for Boston days ago.  Emma had helped her into her bed and stayed.  

No one had shared her bed for five years.

“I don’t understand.”  She took a breath and rolled over, giving herself just a moment before daring to open her eyes.  Emma was looking back at her.

“That makes two of us.  Three, if you count the kid downstairs.”  Emma frowned, but she didn’t sound angry.  She didn’t even sound frustrated.  She looked worried, but not in the clinical way her doctor had looked at her.  Like a friend.  “You might find it easier to talk to me first.  Henry’s going to need to ask questions and I don’t know if that’s the first time you want to say things.”

“I wish I didn’t have to say anything.”  Saying things out loud made them more real.  You couldn’t ignore them, once they were spoken.   She remembered her father shaking as he told her that her mother had died.  She’d been the one shaking when she’d held Henry and told him that Finn was never coming home.  Words had power; something that usually meant good but now felt more like a dagger.

“But there’s something to say.”

“Yeah.”  Belle sat up, wincing at the throbbing in her head.  She needed to take an aspirin.  Could she?  She couldn’t remember if they were on the list of things to take or the one to never take.  There were papers somewhere, but she would find them later.  For now she’d just drink some water.  Slipping out of the bed she went into the bathroom and filled a glass with water, then drained it.  She filled it again and drank half of it in a single gulp.  Leaning against the counter she stared at herself in the mirror.  She looked like crap.

“You okay?”  Emma leaned against the door frame.  In the reflection, Belle could see her watching.

“Okay?”  Belle burst out laughing.  She almost couldn’t catch her breath, a laugh that had nothing to do with humor swelling and getting caught in her throat.  “I don’t remember what okay means.”

“Henry called me.  You were crying.”

“I thought I held it in until he went to bed.”  Damn it, she hadn’t wanted to scare him, and he’d been so worried he’d called Emma.  He couldn’t even ask his mom for help; what kind of parent was she?

“You went to the doctor yesterday.”  Gently Emma gave her an opening.

“It’s called cardiomyopathy.  Restrictive cardiomyopathy, if you want to be specific.”  She would never be able to say it all if she didn’t start with the hardest part.  “It’s my heart.  It’s not working very well.”

There was something poetic about the fact that her heart was, quite literally, hardening.  When had it started?  Whale hadn’t had an answer to give to her.  Last night she had looked at pictures of Finn and had remembered how numb she’d been in the months after he’d died.  Logically she knew the heart was a muscle that didn’t actually have anything to do with the ability to love, but at three o’clock in the morning it seemed more reasonable than anything else she’d learned.

“So how do they fix it?”  Emma took a step closer, her eyes not leaving Belle’s in the mirror.  She sounded so certain that there was an answer.  Belle shook her head.

“They might be able to keep it from getting worse.  Diet, exercise, medications.  They might need to do surgery.”  Without noticing what she was doing Belle’s right hand moved to cover her heart.  It felt fine this morning.  

“What happens if it gets worse?”  Emma mimicked her gesture, perhaps just as unconsciously.  Her hand rested on her chest, shielding her heart.

“I might be a candidate for a heart transplant.”  Belle looked down, breaking eye contact with Emma.  A new heart meant someone else dying.  If things got that far it meant her life depending on someone else.  It meant a piece of her being cut out and discarded.  Failure to get a new heart, if it came to that, meant her son growing up without her.

She could feel Emma’s hand on her shoulder before she looked up to see it.  Tears might have threatened to form if she hadn’t been so dehydrated.  “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I know you can.”  Emma’s hand tightened on her shoulder.  Belle closed her eyes but leaned back a little, into the touch and the warmth.  She was so cold.  “Henry needs you.”

“I have to tell him.”  He’d been so worried that he’d run away to Boston, and she was going to have to confirm his fears.   After months of dismissing everything as ‘fine’ she was going to have to admit that things were a long way from fine.  She was going to hurt him.

“I can stay, if you want me,” Emma offered.

Belle took three deep breaths before she nodded.  “Please.”

[eerythingisshaka]

bUst...

[Gabe ? x Reader]

[Us (2019) Fanfic]

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Smut

A/N:  I said I was writing an Us fic, so here is my shot at it!  It’s inspired by an iconic kill from the film Halloween, so hopefully this is entertaining!

You sit up in bed looking through your phone for some quick celebrity updates on Instagram, but the reception is crap.  The old cabin Gabe insists on staying in every year for vacation smells of mildew, has more cobwebs than granny coochie, and is so far out in the boonies that your phone provider is forced to strip your phone down to its bare components to save data.  This is gonna be a long weekend.

Your bedroom door opens and your husband walks in.  Business up top and a party at the bottom, your husband loves his Howard paraphernalia and shows no shame in keeping those thighs on display with his booty short boxers, smirking like a kid playing hide and seek.

You set your phone down, rubbing your face and yawning.  “Are the kids down for the night?”

Gabe rubs his hands together walking towards you with a slight hop in his step.  “Oh yeah.  Quiet and safely tucked away.”

You sigh laying on your side and turning off your bedside lamp.  “Good and at a decent hour at that, I can finally get some shut eye.”

You close your eyes and begin to relax, pulling the blanket over you as Gabe’s weight moves the rickety bed further down toward the floor to join you.

“Can you move over a little more?”  Gabe asks, poking your back between your shoulder blades.

You groan as you move closer to the edge of your side.

“That’s not enough.”  Gabe complains.

You kiss your teeth, looking over your shoulder.  “Well I can’t scoot over anymore Gabe.  I told you to update this bedding situation before our trip, but noooo.  You’d rather share a twin size like usual.”

Gabe chuckles, shaking the bed.  “You have a lot of energy with that mouth tonight, huh?”

You mutter under your breath.  “I can give you more if you keep playing with my sleep…Did you lock the doors?”

Gabe sighs.  “Yes, even though no one, not even Snow White’s helpful friends, would be coming to bother us in the woods.”

“Good.  That’s all I ask when I agreed to this trip.  Safety, plumbing and electricity, and some peace and quiet.”

Silence falls over the both of you for a couple minutes, but you were still riled up.  Gabe plays so much, you can’t tell when he is being a crazy person or pulling a fast one on you.  Gabe keeps wiggling his legs back and forth restlessly, yawning out loud and smacking his lips demonstratively.  

“Gabe?”

“Yes, my dearest wife?”  Gabe says, rolling over behind you, pulling you close to him with one arm around your waist.  

“I want to sleep in peace.”  You say through your teeth.

“You don’t sound very peaceful.”  Gabe’s voice drops deeply, pulling the blanket down and rubbing his hand across your belly while kissing your earlobe.

“That’s because of you!”  You hiss.

“That’s cuz you are driving me crazy too.”  Gabe’s fingers find the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up slightly to trace the top of your panties.

You’re still riled up, ignoring his advances.  “How!  How am I the one driving you crazy?  I didn’t even want to be here, I’m not having fun at all!”

“Oh?”  Gabe’s says in a condescending manner, easing his fingers into your underwear.

You grip his arm, looking back at him.  “I’m being serious!”

“I am too.  You’re not having fun, so what’s more fun than sex in a different place?”  Gabe insists, kissing your shoulder while running his middle and ring finger along your folds, spreading your wetness along your clit with small circular motions.  

You feel a dip in the bottom of your stomach, widening your thighs slightly.  “You don’t take me seriously at all.”  You say softly, closing your eyes as your defenses being to slowly fall away.

Gabe nuzzles your neck, continuing his deed.  “See, you’re already more relaxed.  It’s been a minute since we got together, trying to plan this trip and all.  You’re tense, I get it.”

Your hips work in rhythm with his hand as your grip on his arm turns from protest to persistence.  “You don’t, but that’s ok for now.”  

You turn your head back to face him, kissing him deeply.  Gabe’s fingers dive into you easily, pumping in and out, making you moan into his mouth.  You reach between the two of you, sliding your hand over the opening of his boxers until you reach his hardened pleasure.  Gabe parts from your mouth to groan in precious agony as you wrap your hands around his dick, running your thumb around his head while your read his veins with your fingers like erotic braille.  His fingers pleasure your more vigorously as you wet yourself around his hand almost approaching your climax before he pulls away from you.

“Wait, why…”  You ask, missing it already.  Gabe answers you when he licks your sweetness off his fingers, long and slow, locking your attention in place.  

You knew what you had to do; when Gabe starts getting nasty like this, you don’t miss an opportunity to give into him.  You push him back, almost losing him over the side of the bed.  After a slight adjustment, you’re straddling him, rubbing your pussy along his dick in need of stimulation.

Gabe grabs your hips, eyes already starting to roll back.  “Ugh, work your magic for me, baby.”

You intended to.  You reach for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down to his knees and he pulls his shirt above his stomach.  Just as you begin to pull down your draws, you freeze.

Gabe grabs at his member, pulling on it but looking at you with slight concern.  “Is something wrong?”

You put your hands on your hips, thinking.  “No, nothing is wrong, but...Gabe, I wanna try something different.”

Gabe tugs himself slower, sitting up a little.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, just piggybacking off of what you said.  We are somewhere different.  And I want to make memories in this place that are lasting, right?”

“Sure…”  

“So!  Why not make this really last.  Start things off with a bang!  Why don’t we...roleplay?”

Gabe squints at you suspiciously, taking his time to pull his boxers back up.  “Who do you wanna be?”

You crawl up beside him.  “Well, it doesn’t really matter WHO we are, just kind of...how you treat me…”

Gabe scoffs.  “I treat you just fine.  How many pillows have you torn open trying to bite back on your moans and everything, I’m doing great as the receipts show.”

“I know-”

“Like ‘Thank you, Cum Again’ good.  I can go more innings than a baseball game, ask about me.”  Gabe says clapping his chest.

“Babe!  I know!  I’m just saying, remember around New Years when the kids stayed at your parent’s place?  We got a little drunk and things got a little crazy.”

Gabe crosses his arms, looking off into space.  “Oh yeah.  The kitchen and living room was such a mess, we didn’t have time to clean up all the way because we slept so late.  Had to say a bird got in the house and we were trying to trap it.”

“Yeah!  But what really happened was you were all rough and tough, pulling my hair and telling me what to do and how you want it.  Baby, that was really sexy.”

Gabe licks his lips smiling at you with heavy lidded eyes.  “So you want that guy again?”

You nod excitedly.  “Definitely.  The kids are on the other side of the cabin, it shouldn’t be too crazy for us to try that tonight.”

Gabe leans over closer to you.  “So I could some woodsy guy who lives along until some wayward woman runs up looking for shelter.”

“Ooooh, yeah, go on.”

Gabe runs the back of his hand along your cheek.  “And you’re from the city, so you have a lot of opinions because you Google stuff on how to live rural but you really don’t know, so I show you…No!  Make you...”

You fake snarl and bite at his hand.  “That’s nice, let’s go with something like that.”

You kiss his face, rubbing his chest but he holds your hands away.

“Before we start, I have something I can get to set the mood.”  Gabe gets off the bed going to the door.

You look back at him confused.  “What?  We don’t need props.”

Gabe shrugs.  “No, but I think it will set things off.  It’s a surprise, so just hold tight.  Keep yourself warm for me until I get back.”  He winks before leaving the bedroom.

You sigh, plopping back on the bed in frustration.  Gabe likes to go above and beyond the call of duty.  You feel like shouldn’t have said anything at all, otherwise you’d be busting all kinds of nuts on him.  

A minute passes before you pick your knees up, lifting your ass to take down your draws.  Gabe will be taking them off soon anyway, so you just make the access easier for him.  You’re wearing one of his shirts, and it fits like parachute around you.  Anxiously playing with your fingers you let your legs part, feeling some tension in your core.  Once you got started, you had to finish things off, with or without him.  He should be back soon though, so like he said, gotta keep things warm for him until he gets back.  

You let your knees fall apart and pull you shirt above your navel.  You slowly reach your hand underneath you, breathing deeply when you feel how wet you are from before.  First touch on your clit makes you shiver; homegirl is definitely hungry for a meal.  

You work yourself slowly, closing your eyes in the darkness of the room, illuminated by the bright moon shining outside the window.  You imagine your hands are Gabe’s touching your lips, massaging your g-spot firmly.  

Biting your lips you open your eyes and catch something in your peripheral.

“Oh shit!”  You exclaim, taking your hand away and covering your face.  You laugh to yourself when you peek between your fingers and see your man’s silhouette standing at the door.  

“Gatdamn, you scared me!  Ugh, thank God it’s just you.”

He continues to stand there, covered in the shadows of the doorway.

You sit up, sitting on the edge of the bed.  “Did you see me?  You’re usually more vocal when I’m doing some sexy shit, so maybe not.”

He stands there, silent.

“You know what I was doing before you got here?”  You ask seductively, getting up and walking over to him slowly.  “I was...touching myself...thinking of you...touching me…”

You stand right in front of him, reaching to rub his chest.  “Oh, what’s this you’re wearing?  Is this the surprise you have for me?  You actually put on a costume.”  

You feel along the tough synthetic fabric.  It appears to be a all one piece, coveralls in the color red.

You giggle softly.  “So you’re playing the strong silent type, huh?  I guess a man of the woods all alone wouldn’t be social.  That’s fine, I can play along.  You just tell me where you want me...and I’ll be there.”

Gabe doesn’t say a word, staying in character.

You sigh, already growing weary of the scenario.  “Well, I wish you would’ve chosen something more easy to remove.  That’s why I said no props.  Let me help you take this off, Mr. Woodsman.”  

You reach his collar feeling for a zipper, tugging it downward along the length of his torso.  The sound of the metal parting fills the room as you pull it along his chest, belly, until you reach his groin.

Suddenly, Gabe’s hands grab your wrists tightly.  

“Whoa, wha-”  You exclaim.  You’re speechless as Gabe picks you up by the biceps, your toes dangling above the floor.  He grunts as he takes you toward the bed, tossing you across it.

You bounce, steadying yourself on the springs.  “Gabe, wow!  You haven’t picked me up in forever.  I forgot how strong you are.”

Gabe’s expression is hard, looking at you like a menace in his life more than a lover.  And you weren’t too sure, but his beard even looked fuller and more wild.  

Your heart begins to race, thinking of what he was going to do next.  You look down at his groin area and see he is excited too.

You get your bearings and sit up, reaching for his dick, looking up at him with a smile on your face.  “I think I know what you need.  I can make that nice and wet for you.”

You stroke him a couple of times, seeing his belly rise and fell more deeply from your touch.  

“Wow, just look at you.  I don’t know how you were able to keep that all in under your clothes.  Even your dick seems in character, all serious business down here.”  With both hands around the base of his dick you lick your lips, salivating at the thought of running your tongue along his shaft.  But just before you were about to, he grabs you by the jaw and pushes you back.  

You’re taken back from the roughness, feeling your face as you crawl backward.  Gabe’s expression is still gruff as he leans over you, grabbing your foot to pull it up and back towards your head.

Your jaw drops from his action, spreading you across the spread eagle style, your pussy his show.  You pull his shirt up to expose your breasts to him, rubbing them.

“Yes, this is all yours.  I’m ready for you Gabe.”  You moan, feeling yourself throbbing in anticipation.  

Gabe finally breaks his focus from your eyes to your core.  Gabe’s expression doesn’t falter however, and you feel confused, touching the very spot he is concentrated on.

“It’s begging for you, can’t you see?  Don’t make me beg, I need your help with this.  Make me feel better, baby.”  You whine, running your fingers over yourself, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Gabe looks back you, letting out a low grunt before hovering over your body, legs still in his grasp as he lines himself up against you.  You reach for him once more, helping to him inside of you.

You gasp as his head breaks through you, spreading your walls out as he slides in deep within you gradually.  You can’t put your finger on it, but something about it seems different.  You’re having trouble taking it more than usual.  Gabe was right, it had been a while.

You grab his hands on your legs, breathing deeply.  “Be easy, you’re stretching it daddy.”

Gabe snarls, curling his lip up as he pulls back, popping his hips into you with a sharp thrust.  You squeal at his static strokes, slowly pulling out and popping right back into you.  You weren’t used to this rhythm, but you loved it.  The surprise of all that dick filling you quickly made you laugh, with the sensual release of his length threatening an orgasm hovering nearby.

But soon his stroke quickens, no longer giving you the ease of a slow pump, but back to back penetrations juicing your pussy just right.

“Ohhh, Gabe...:”  You moan, gripping his shoulders as he works his ass off on top of you.  This red jumpsuit staying on as he fucks a nearly naked you turns on the pleasure sensors of your brain.  Gabe takes your legs, digging his fingers into your thighs as he angles himself above you to dig you out properly.   His grunts are unrecognizable, making animalistic noises every other stroke like a wild beast, almost barking.

“Fuck...me...ugh!”  You cry out, just before Gabe pulls out of you.  He drags you by your legs halfway off the bed before grabbing your arm to turn you around on your face.  His palms feel rougher than normal as they rub your ass and hips, giving you a firm smack.

Your head pops up in surprise.  “Oh!  Hahaha!  Yes, do it again, daddy, please!”

He does just that; you feel the heat on your cheek as it tingles from the sharpness of his hit.  You feel him poking around your entrance again until he makes his way in, roaring loudly.

His pelvis slams into you as he keeps a firm grasp on your hips, holding you firmly in place for himself as he gets every ounce of what he needs from you.

You sit up slightly in your arch.  “Please, pull my hair.”  You gasp desperately.  Without hesitation his fingers find your roots and tug just right.  Your neck cranes as he hits you from the back, reigning you in like a bucking bronco at the rodeo.  You imagine your ass bouncing against his clothed lower half, how wrong it was but how right it feels.  Your edge is coming closer.

“Oh shit, oh shit, you feel that Gabe?  Baby, that dick is wrecking me, fuuuuck.”  You whine when he takes his hand off your hair, grabbing your arms to put them behind you.  

You have no support, no control when he takes you there.  You squeeze around him tightly as you strain wanting so bad to fight it but it was too late.  You feel your wetness run down your legs as you curse his name into the mattress.  Gabe does something you never heard him do, letting out a guttural howl of his own, so loud that if it wasn’t for you losing your breath in climax, you would’ve told him to be more quiet.  You barely wanted to complain though if he was having as good of a time as you were.

At his third howl, you hear a loud bang that sounded very wrong.  Your arms drop as his hands leave your body, followed by a thud to the floor.  You turn around as quickly as you can, covering yourself as you see Gabe standing with a baseball bat looking at the floor.

“Gabe!  What is going on??”  You shout as your body’s arousal and adrenaline hormones fight each other.

He bounds toward you, bringing you into a hug.  “Are you alright?  Did he hurt you?”

You push away, not knowing what he means.  “What are you talking about, you were with me!”

He shakes his head, taking off his glasses to rub the sweat out of his eyes.  “I was looking for my axe and some old cowboy boots I found in the basement when I heard howling.  It got louder as I got here, and then I saw…”  His voice trailed off as he looked behind him.

Your heart races as you look in the direction behind him.  A body in red knocked out cold.

“Gabe….I thought he was you….”

Gabe looks at you flabbergasted.  “What!?  How could you confuse me with another man!”

You begin to tremble.  “He looks...just like you.  He never said a word, but I….thought it was you playing….”

Gabe shakes his head, coming to standing.  “I was downstairs.  I wasn’t here.”  He goes over to the body, turning him on his back.  And lo and behold, it looked like Gabe was lying on the floor too.

“You....really couldn’t tell it was me?”  Gabe questions further.

You shrug.  “I mean, he did a good job of-”

Gabe scoffs.  “Of fucking you??”

You roll your eyes.  “Is that the hill you wanna die on right now!  A fucking CLONE just came into our home!”

Gabe’s hands go around the back of his head as his anxiety picks up.  “How can this be?”

Just then, the window glass shatters.

Masterlist

[gloomy-goober]

Dear Remus,

Logan thinks that I should write to you.

Says it might help me ‘cope’. Whatever that means.

I don’t want to cope.

I don’t want to feel.

They say you are gone. That you are dead somewhere better.

I know they want me to believe it. I know how they watch me as I move out of our room and into the kitchen every so often.

They have given up, but I haven’t. As soon as I can I am running back into the imagination and starting up my search.

The dragon witch is working on a tracking spell. It is taking her longer because I need it to be long ranged. Using our pendants, well mine. I hope you will have yours or this plan is going to be a flop.

Just like most of them are.

I don’t know why I am writing all this down. Or how this will help.

I know that I am not actually sending these to you. If I was then I would be writing about how I am going to punch your face in for having me worried for so long. Or I would be going to where you are instead of sitting on your bed writing in this dumb journal.

Still it is nice to write the words down: I miss you.

Our room is too quiet with only me in here staying up till the ass crack of dawn. There is no one there to lecture me, no one there to wrestle me back to bed, no one there to ask me annoying questions at three am.

Although the lack of dirty laundry stink is an improvement. An improvement I did not think I would hate.

I know you are not reading this, but please come home soon.

*********************************************************************************

Dear Remus,

It had been six months since you disappeared.

I think everyone else has given up hope of your return. I know that the others did not like you too much, but I thought they were just as hurt as I was when you were in pain. Maybe I was wrong.

I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.

It has been three months since they blocked me from entering the imagination again. I thought by now they would have admitted that I was rested enough to return to the search.

I tried to go back in through the main door. Patton caught me and asked where I was going.

When I told him my intentions, he told me that is was not a good time. Led me away to help him in the kitchen.

I am not proud to say I ruined dinner out of spite. I was not hungry anyway.

You would have found it hilarious. The fire on the stove was not extreme but it reminded me a lot of that SpongeBob episode. Where he has to forget about everything that was not about fine dining and breathing.

You would have laughed.

We’d probably be up all night laughing about it.

I miss those kinds of nights. We haven’t had them in a long time.

When you get back, we are going to have a movie marathon. All your favorites.

I am getting a little too sentimental. Glad you are never going to read these.

Hope Logan isn’t reading these. They were his idea.

I need to hide my journal better.

*************************************************************************************

Dear Remus,

It has been five months since you’ve been gone.

I guess I should do something worthwhile with these letters or entries or whatever this is. If I do allow you to read them then they might as well tell you what has been going on during your absence.

First, Deceit has been sleeping over sometimes. By sometimes I mean a lot. Hardly ever leaves.

I gave him my bed since I have been spending most of my nights in yours. I washed the sheets first though. You really need to stop eating in bed, I think I found a full cookie under your pillow. That is gross, bro. Gross and terrible that you never offered to share.

Anyway, I don’t mind Deceit spending the night. It is comforting to have another person in the room again. Makes our room feel less empty.

He doesn’t snore like you. He doesn’t wake me up or tell me to go to bed when it gets super late either. Actually it is really hard to get him to wake up. I learned to not listen to his promises of five more minutes after the third day.

Can’t trust a snake no matter how much their pleas for more sleeping time resonate with you. How badly you want to crawl under the covers and sleep the day away, you must resist.

Going along with Deceit sleeping over, it now seems Mr. Lyde is just a part of this family. Patton is less tense around him, though it is still taking some time. Virgil is not openly trying to fight him.

It is weird. I wish you could see this. Maybe you could figure out why the shift because I am at a loss.

Speaking of Virgil, he is my second point.

Virgil has been spending the evenings in our room. Just sits on your bed or my bed. Deceit, him, and I usually just do our own things quietly. Sometimes we watch a movie together.

I like the change, but I am also confused by it

Maybe they just don’t trust me to not run off to look for you once more.

They only delay the inevitable. I do not see what could go so poorly with speeding up your return.

Well, that is all I can think of. Going to draw a dick on Deceit’s head while he sleeps in honor of you.

**************************************************************************************

Dear Remus,

Eight months since you disappeared.

Patton has suggested that I make my own room. It was not an unkind or ill meaning, but I still got defensive. I should not have yelled at him.

Or ran off instead of apologizing.

I’ll summon a puppy tonight. Make sure he knows I did not mean to explode like that.

I can’t say that having my own room would not be interesting. We did try that once in our teen years but that did not last long. Remember? You kept sneaking into my room at night. Really scared me.

Still have no idea how you crawled across the ceiling like that.

Thinking about it right now, though, I don’t think I want to know the answer.

More on the bedroom thing, I can’t leave. If I leave this bedroom, then Deceit will lose his roommate.

Oh! Should probably tell you that we have a new roommate. Don’t think you would mind. You always liked Dee. Saw how much of a dork he was behind all the hissing.

You were right, he is funny.

When you get back, I’ll make us our bunk beds again so Dee can keep my bed.

It’ll be fun. Like a sleep over every day.

We can even invite Virgil!

Or we just all live in one room together. Forever a sleepover!

Okay maybe that would not be a fun idea. Or was a very good idea.

I haven’t been sleeping well lately, so my ideas are a little bland. Sorry.

I am going to go apologize to Patton now.

Write to you soon.

************************************************************************************

Remus,

Where are you?

You have been gone almost ten months! A year is about to pass, and you are nowhere.

I expected you to be back by now.

Why do you keep doing this to me, Remus? Why can’t you stay put?

I don’t want you to be gone anymore.

****************************************************************************

Remus,

I went back into the imagination today.

It has been a year since you have been gone. Since I have stepped into that place. I was not supposed to be gone so long, but even after the others stopped trying to make me stay at home, I could not bring myself to go back in there.

The dragon witch was not very happy with me. She had the spell ready for so long and I showed up so late.

I have the pendant back now.

I stood on the cliff face where your old sailor man said he had seen you last. I looked out at the sea.

I wanted to throw it. Throw it out and let the waves take it away. Let this necklace be destroyed in my anger but I didn’t.

I didn’t recite the spell either. Please don’t be mad at me for that but I can’t.

I just can’t.

I know you are alive. I feel that you are alive, but what if…

What if you aren’t?

What if I say this spell and it points to nowhere? What if it is too late to even try it?

I don’t want to think that everyone else’s hopelessness has rubbed off on me but God dammit, Remus, it has been a year.

You should have been back by now.

Why aren’t you back? The only reason you wouldn’t be back is if they are all right.

***************************************************************************************

Remus,

I am in a new room now.

Deceit has his own room next to Virgil now.

Our room is boarded off. I just couldn’t stay in there any longer.

Virgil let me borrow his white noise machine. It fills the silence. Going to have to get myself one.

**********************************************************************************

Remus,

Wherever you are, if you are anywhere, I hope you are happy.

Things have gotten better for me. Not to say things are good that you are gone but that I am coping. Just like Logan was hoping would happen by writing these.

I still expect you to just pop up one day. Though the need to look for you around every corner has started to wane.

Thomas is back to work. His fans understood the need to have a vacation thankfully, but I feel guilty for making them wait so long. I have been focused one some amazing works for them, putting all my effort into them.

I do hope they like these new videos.

That is all I hope for, really.

Wish I could get your input on them. Most of your ideas don’t really go with the theme but you at least get me out of Disney safe territory.

I don’t know if I am going to continue writing to you. I don’t know if it really matters now. You won’t ever read these and even if you somehow did come back, I would never let you read them.

There is too much honest emotion. It’s gross.

I’d rather give you a letter that says ‘f--- you’ for leaving. Something that wouldn’t be all weird.

But, at the same time, if I stop writing in this letter/journal thing I feel like I am closing the door to you. That once I let these letters go and move on it will all become more real then it feels.

That you really will be gone.

I don’t want you to be gone. I don’t want to be the only creativity.

We both tried to pretend like we were the only true form of Thomas’ creative endeavors but we both knew it was not true. We were once one.

How am I supposed to do this job without literally the other half of my job?

If you are gone does that mean I won that stupid best creativity contest we were holding? Cause this is the worst way to win it.

But if this is the way it happens, then so be it. I will do my best to be the creativity that Thomas needs.

For you. For Thomas. And for myself.

Goodbye.

Your brother, Roman.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #232

“i’ve never bought a suit before in my life, but when you go to meet god, you know you wanna look nice.”

Do you have trouble typing when the room is dark? No, I don't look at the keyboard. When’s the last time you had a headache? I had an abomination of a three-day-long headache before my cycle like a week or two back or something. How often do you take surveys? Not as much as I used to now that I actually have school, but occasionally. What did you last write on paper? I think some items to Mom's shopping list? Does anything on your body hurt? No. What do you currently hear? "Bullet" by Hollywood Undead. I can hear cars outside, as well as Bentley biting himself incessantly. Sounds gross. Do you have any goals you’re trying to fulfill? As for in the near future, hopefully - I'd pray if I believed in it by this point - start losing weight again. Grow more in my photography, 1.) because I want this so badly and 2.) there's no way I could handle the stress of school and a "real" job but we're in serious need of money right now. I'd really like to make progress with driving too, but I haven't been able to in months because a headlight in broken, the license plate or whatever is expired, and the car can't pass inspection, so Mom doesn't want me at the steering wheel and get pulled over for it. Being on the borderline poverty line is A BLAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you ever do the dishes? I'mma be real, real honest here. Not really. Reason being we don't have a dishwasher and I am super queasy actually hand-cleaning dirty dishes, I get frustrated because I feel I don't clean them well enough (being a germaphobe is also fun), and my OCD goes absolutely insane trying to play Tetris with the drying rack thingy. All that being said, it's my least-favorite chore. At your house, does everyone eat together as a family? No. We started to drift apart when I was... maybe a pre-teen? When did you last have butterflies in your stomach? Sara decided she wanted to try making out and I was fucking terrified of going too far or scaring her. Are you independent or dependent? I'm embarrassingly dependent. Who last made you smile? My pup. How did you find Bzoink? Taking surveys for so long. What’s your dream job? If travel and heat weren't considered, a meerkat biologist. Do you brush your teeth twice every day? Just once. Do you have a pool? No. Are the streetlights on? We don't have streetlights on my road. When you wear a hoodie, do you pull the sleeves over your hands? Not unless I'm really cold. Do you trust anyone, besides yourself, fully? Sara. I would say Mom, but I'm entirely aware she's lied and made stories up about Dad. Do you believe the saying “once a cheater, always a cheater”? No. I've never really understood this. People change. Are you in any advanced classes at school? I bypassed the freshman English class, yeah. Well, is that considered "advanced?" I don't believe it's like an AP course or anything, but it's not a class I'm supposed to be taking as a freshman, so??? How often do you eat your favorite food? Every once in a while. Have you ever fallen asleep on public transport? (including planes) Probably. What was the last TV show you watched? Uhhhh I think it was all the way back when Colleen and I were still friends and we checked out The Good Doctor. Or it was either Parks and Recreation with Sara and her family or Avatar: The Last Airbender, also with Sara. Where was the last place you went on vacation/holiday to? Who’d you go with? The beach with Colleen, her husband, and their son. Well, does that count since it was only for a day? Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? I don't have a job. What’s your favorite type of donut? It varies between chocolate frosted, glazed, and plain. What do you usually eat for breakfast? If I even eat, it'll probably be like, a meal replacement shake or Pop-Tart. Can you touch your toes without bending your knees? Surprisingly. When was the last time you went out for dinner? Like at a sit-down restaurant? Hm. I think it was El Tapatio with my mom and Nicole maybe near two months ago. What was the last thing you said to someone else in person? Idr, something to Mom. Do you use Windows, Mac, Linux, or something else entirely? Windows. How many times do you call someone on the phone a week? Like zero, usually. Have you cooked anything today? What was it? No. Do you have a lot of cousins? What are their names? Yeah. I'm not sharing all their names on the Internet, and besides, I don't even know most. What does your shampoo smell like? I don’t know. What about the body wash or soap you’re using at the moment? I don't remember, even though I got out of the shower like an hour ago. Any movies you’ve seen recently that you’d recommend to me? No, I barely ever watch movies. Why did you last go see a doctor? The primary reason was for my night terrors. Do you know how to play Minesweeper? No. What was the last thing you bought online? A new heat lamp for my snake Venus. Where do you usually park your car? I don't have a car, but Mom parks in the driveway behind the house. Does your mail get delivered to your house or do you have to collect it? It's put in the mailbox on the other side of the road. Are you more logical or creative? Creative, I'd say. Do you cut tags out of clothing so they don’t itch and bother you? Usually. How many times a year do you go on vacation? Pretty much never. Can you curl your tongue or do anything else cool with it? I can curl it a little bit, but my snake eyes piercing prevents me from doing it all that well. What was the last job interview you went to? For a deli position at a Food Lion. Got the job, lasted not even two hours. :^) What embarrassing music do you listen to? I'm not really *embarrassed* of any I listen to. Just kinda surprising to admit to some people sometimes. What’s your biggest talent? Writing, I guess? What’s the best gift you ever received? My dog. What fear would you like to overcome? More than ANYTHING? Probably being judged in a negative way or being seen as "weird," and not in a good way. AvPD is a bitch and makes me less open about myself (mostly just irl, but yeah), which I REALLY don't like. Would you rather ride in a hot air balloon or hang-glide? Hm, hang-glide, maybe. I dunno. What habit would you like to break? Procrastinating, lately. Describe the most romantic moment you’ve ever had. I can think of a few, but here's the one that had the most biggest effect on me, I think. There was one time Jason and I were kissing, I told him I loved him, and he whispered, "I love you too, wife," before going back to kissing me. Remembering that still hurts, a lot. I know now us separating was for the better, I don't want someone who doesn't have faith in my strength, just the memories like those from the time I was convinced our love story was a fairy tale are very painful. Just typing it caused a discomfort in my stomach. What’s your worst personality trait? Laziness, probably. Or impulsiveness. Have you ever cheated on a test? No. What’s your favorite karaoke song? I don't sing karaoke. Do you know anyone with two different colored eyes? I don't believe so. What was the last thing you bought for someone else? Sara's anniversary present, which was a pillow that said something along the lines of, "Hug this pillow until you can hug me" or something. Do you like hot fudge sundaes? My fat ass can't even associate with you if you don't like HOT FUDGE SUNDAES????????????? Do you like to sleep a lot? It's funny, I tend to like naps during the day, yet I don't look forward to trying to go to sleep at night. It always takes longer, and there's also the possibility of just waking back up and struggling to fall back asleep for the rest of the night. Is there a garbage can in the room you’re currently in? No. Have you ever been in a class that you thought you were too smart for? I don't think so. Can you type without looking at the keyboard? Yeah. We had a mandatory typing course in middle school, so I learned it exceptionally well. Have you ever been snorkeling? No. Who was the last person you apologized to? Maybe Sara? Do you throw things when you’re frustrated? NO. I am very conscious of not expressing my anger with physical violence of any sort. How much do you get paid at your current job? N/A Are your friends mostly older than you or younger than you? I think younger. Would you ever get a pet tarantula? Nah. Do you want to dye your hair? Ugh, you have no idea. What’s your favorite zoo animal? Meerkats, duh. Is there anything in your room you’d be ashamed to show to your parents? I'm VERY self-conscious of my artwork, so I'd be mortified if my mom saw my drawings, even though there's nothing "wrong" with them. I'm just shy about 'em. Have you ever accused someone of cheating when they weren’t? Yeah, hence the end of that day-long relationship. Him cheating was a lie from his insane ex, but at the time, I just believed it, but it was absolutely for the better. He wasn't for me. I really shoulda just listened when my art teacher literally took me aside one day and warned me about him. Wha'd'ya know, he wound up on house arrest or something similar, and who the hell knows what he's done by now. When was the last time you played hide and seek? I played with my niece and nephew some months ago. Don’t you hate when people stare at you? Fuckin' yes. I'm too self-conscious for that shit. Have you ever accidentally caught yourself on fire? Well thank god no. Are you Jewish? No. Does anyone copy the things you do? No. Is your dad still alive? Yes, yay. Have you done anything lately that you instantly felt was a mistake? Possibly. What melts your heart/makes your knees weak? Watching Mark with kids causes me severe physical pain. What would you consider unforgivable? Rape. What are your views on spontaneous human combustion? Freaky. Parasite Eve first made me think "oh shit what if this could actually happen," and I've also watched a Shane Dawson video about it, and the idea of it possibly being a real thing is absolutely terrifying. How many dryer sheets do you put in an average load of laundry? I think Mom uses one or two? I dunno. Have you ever felt trapped in a relationship? No. What is your favorite frozen treat? Ice cream. Do you have a sexual fantasy? ...What is it? There's probably something I could think up. Maybe like bang on a church pew or something lmao idk. Who was the last person to insult you? I'm not sure. What color is your brush/comb/whatever? White. Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when its hot in your room? It is almost entirely impossible. Have you ever purposely given someone wrong directions? No, but then again, it's not like I even give them. I have a horrible sense of direction and don't know street names, highway numbers and locations... What is your favorite thing to do with your best friend? I'm not sure. Everything is fun with her. Are you easily offended? It depends. In most contexts, no. Have you ever acted as tour guide for friends/relatives from out of town? Not really. If you were an anime character, would you be a yandere or a tsundere? HAHAHA I AM PAINFULLY A YANDERE. If you have glasses, do you get days when you don’t feel like wearing them? No, because I like to see. Have you ever played bingo at an actual bingo hall? No. Ha ha, this reminds me tho, I can't recall if he did it once or just WANTED to, but my brother may have gone into one, yelled "BINGO," and immediately left. Did your parents ever collect any magazines they didn’t want you to read? Uhhhh no. I'm quiiiiite sure neither of my parents had those. Have you ever pledged money to a Kickstarter and it reached its goal? No. I probably would if I had excess money and really believed in it, though. Is there a color combination that holds a significance to you? Because Jason's favorite thing in the world was the Joker, seeing purple and bright green together is one I just prefer not to see. I wouldn't call it a PTSD trigger, like I don't freak out about it, it's just like an "ugh ew" sorta thing. If you use Facebook, do you ever look at the Memories page? No. I cringe 90% of the time when they pop up. Do you have a drawer where you just throw some random stuff? No. Have you ever had to provide an alibi for something? No. What’s the funniest shirt that you own? I have a Batman one I'm trying to shrink back into that says something like "I wish I was Batman but I'm poor and hate fighting" & I love it. What is something you absolutely refuse to pay for? Idk off the top of my head. Has a stray/runaway cat or a dog ever followed you home? Cats, I think? If so, what did you do with it? Fed it with the other cats, and I'd assume Mom would've called the owner's number if given. If you could grow a beard or a mustache, would you? I'm a cisgender female so like... Is there a stranger you expect to see every day? No. What is something you take pride in? I'm proud of just how deeply and genuinely I care about people. And my writing and photography, mostly. What does the nicest dish set you own look like? All our dishes are literally the same, and they're ancient. I think they were my grandma's but given to Mom. Pattern's worn and everything. They're ceramic with a floral design. Why did you stop working at the last place you were employed? I absolutely cannot be in a position of responsibility or customer service, and the environment was way too busy. What would you do if you found out your ex was pregnant/fathered a child? I... don't know how I would react? Picturing it, I first feel like I'd be so happy for him, but I KNOW my PTSD would act up at some point shortly after and I would probably end up in a bawling ball (lol "bowling ball" that wasn't intended sorry) because "that was supposed to be me," but then I'd be fine again after I got all that emotion out. Who was the last person to smoke a cigarette in front of you? Someone at school. You can smoke outside, and it's the one thing I don't like about my college. Are you very close to your siblings? Not nearly as close as I wish we were. How often do you watch the news? Never. Do you have a dishwasher? No. What is the worst lie you’ve ever told? I don't like talking about it. Well, it wasn't a lie, but I stretched the truth because anxiety's a goddamn asshole. Where is the last place you drove to? I drove to, probably home. What is your favorite Disney movie? The Lion King. I may even like the live-action remake more, but I can't say with certainty. Do you have a fan in your room? Yeah. What color is your lampshade? I don't have a lamp. Do you like to wear belts? Not anymore. What is the most expensive electronic in your room? This laptop. Only a year old and yet it's so abused with how much it's used. Are you involved with any charity work? I wish I was in the position where I could, anyway. Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? No. Have you ever hatched an egg? OKAY SO! I remember in elementary school, maybe like 1st grade or something, we incubated a chicken egg and hatched it. I can't remember where it went. Do you chew gum on a daily basis? No, I rarely do. What brand shampoo do you use? Suave. When is the last time you went to an amusement park? Years ago shortly before the breakup with Jason and Dillon. Or Dustin. Whatever his name was. Do you have a garden shed in your backyard? Nope. Are you obsessed with anything? Y'all know I don't know how to love in moderation, not even remotely. Do you prefer non-diet or diet soda? I hate diet, and the artificial sweetener also gives me serious headaches. Who was the last person you hugged? My mom, maybe? What did you do when you found out Michael Jackson died? We were swimming in the pool while Mom or Dad was grilling, idr. What’s your best friend’s favorite band? Pink Floyd, Evanescence, and Within Temptation. What’s your favorite kind of beer? Never tried it, don't want to. How do you get songs out of your head? Binge it 'til I'm tired of it lmao. Have you seen all the High School Musicals? I've only seen the first two. Do you dress appropriately for your age? I don't know? Probably not? Do "normal" 23-year-olds wear graphic tees? What’s your favorite word? "Serendipity." What’s the worst sickness you’ve ever had? A serious stomach virus that made me puke all the food I'd eaten since birth. Do you take compliments well? Of course I appreciate them, but I get shy. Are excessive piercings sexy or trashy? Well they're definitely not "trashy," but SERIOUSLY excessive ones, I don't usually find attractive. But it really depends on the person, the size, and where. What do you put on toast? Cinnamon, sugar, and butter. The Southern cinnamon toast. Have you ever watched Fear Factor? I LOVED it when I was younger, and I still enjoy it if I happen to see it. Joe Rogan was one of my earliest crushes, too. How many songs do you have on iTunes? Over 1k. What song reminds you of summer? MAN I remember as a kid, back when I liked country, my sisters and I loved "When The Sun Goes Down" by Kenny Chesney. Big summer vibes. Has a bird ever flown into your window? OH WOW I don't think so, but I do remember one flew into the car's grill when I was very young and going on a trip. Safe to say it died.

[ceruleanchillin]

Fitting

Modern Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Note -  I just went to a word generator and took random words to use for plot ideas. It switches from the Reader to Arthur’s POV by segment (in case you get/got confused).

Annnnd, hooray for technologically illiterate, and borderline luddite, Arty.

Finally, I need to apologize to all the mobile users. It’s gotta be HELL scrolling past my shit in the tag ugh, I wish keep reading worked on mobile.😩

1. Rain

Arthur didn’t used to be too fond of the rain. It made travel hell on earth. If you were in a cold place, you froze. Hot place? It made you feel sticky, and teased you about feeling cooler. He didn’t understand why people were so in love with it. That was until he found a home.

The gang had worked long and hard to set themselves free from their former lives. Freedom looked like a sprawling, luxury ranch resort, staffed by former criminals. It amazed him that people were willing to pay big bucks to vacation the way he’d lived the majority of his life for free, but they were. He couldn’t knock the weirdness too much, because it allowed him to meet you, and gave him a place for a new start with you.

So he got it now. Why people enjoyed the rain so much. Sitting on a cozy living room’s window seat of the ground’s main house, your back to his as you dozed lightly, the rain painting the window next to you. He understood.

He looked down at you, and couldn’t stop what he’d been told was a “goofy” grin from spreading across his lips. You looked stunning, long lashes touching your cheek and lips pouting in dream concentration.

Absentmindedly, he ran his thumb across your cheek in soft swipes, enjoying the moment. He’d have to remember to draw this later.

You shifted lightly, paused to realize he’d been studying you, yawned cutely, and narrowed your eyes. “You watching me sleep Morgan?”

“Yes ma’am, you’re goddamn beautiful.”

“Translation, ‘I wanna fuck you on these new cushions-”

He quickly silenced you with a kiss, one that quickly devolved into laughter from both of you.

Yeah, Arthur Morgan could appreciate the rain. He would go so far as to say he downright loved it.

2. Bedroom

When people asked what you missed the most on your travels, it now came down to two answers. Arthur, and your bedroom.

The first one wasn’t surprising. In your five months working for the gang’s resort, you and Arthur had grown inseparable. The two of you let instinct and feeling be your guide, and it hadn’t disappointed you yet.

The second one was a bit more strange for most people. Being settled for most of their lives left them taking personal space, such as a bedroom, for granted. Residing with your new family had been the closest thing to settled you’d ever been. You found out it was pretty much the same for them, and Arthur shared your appreciation for a space away from constant prying eyes.

You burrowed your cheek into the pillow, trying to appreciate your bed and the sunrise at once. For the next three-and-a-half weeks, you would be in Australia, and would miss seeing the sunrise this way.

A warm arm came over your side, and you relaxed into the body attached to it. Arthur buried his face in your hair, his hold tightening when he breathed in.

“Your plane doesn’t leave til’ twelve, you trying to get away from me already?” he was teasing you, but you could still hear a slight edge to his tone. He respected your love of travel, but he missed you terribly when you were away from him.

You laced your fingers with his, and gave a tight squeeze. “Don’t even try it, you know I cry on the plane every time now. I didn’t do that before you.”

“I am both delighted and upset to hear that.” his voice was still colored by sleep, and somehow managed to hold a rougher tone to it.

“I suspect more of the former than the latter.”

He chuckled and moved his lips from his hair to your cheek. You hummed and sunk further into his warmth, allowing him to claim more of your skin with his kisses. The comfort of the bed, the warmth of Arthur, and the softness of his kisses, started to make you dizzy in the best way. Who knew Arthur Morgan was king at cuddling?

He pulled you under him, lips now on your own.

“I have to get ready, I told Mary-Beth I’d help her with giftshop duty before I leave.” very few of your words managed to surface between kisses, but you knew he’d heard you.

“Mary-Beth ain’t stealing my last few hours with you.” his reply was rough in tone, his next kiss firm to back up his point.

You felt your body abuzz with adoration for the man and his cute declaration. He was pouring how much he’d miss you into his actions. He wouldn’t outright declare he’d miss you, but he would show you.

Your hands danced across his back in gentle motions. “I’m going to miss you too Arthur.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. His gaze said a lot, and his follow up kiss said whatever it left out.

When he pulled away, he touched his forehead to yours, eyes closed. You recognized his expression as one that said he wanted to tell you something, so you waited.

“I was thinking, you might be able to come home to find your bedroom in mine.”

It took you a moment, but you realized what he meant when the poor man’s expression got panicked. He wanted you to move in with him.

“I’m thinking I might like that.”

A look of relief crossed his handsome features, before he ducked his head by your ear. “I’m thinking you might like something else to.”

3. Dizzy

The most important moment of Arthur Morgan’s life came at 4:45 AM on a Saturday.

He hadn’t been expecting anything beyond seeing you for the first time in weeks. That’s all he needed to be honest. He hadn’t seen hide nor tail of you, with the exception of a frustrating FaceTime (was that what you called it?) that everyone felt they needed to be a part of, in two weeks.

Every other moment of communication boiled down to phone calls, and confusing texts (goddamn, why couldn’t you let him keep his flip phone?!).

Arthur was a simple man, and he liked his communication the same way. Nothing was more simple than talking to you face to face. He could hold you, see your face clearly, and not make a complete fool of himself for lacking poetic graces.

So when he got a call from you, asking him to pick you up from the airport a week ahead of schedule, he nearly ran out of the house in his underwear.

The bustling airport pickup wasn’t the best place to play catch up, so the two of you followed what was tradition at this point. A tight hug, and then a comfortably silent ride to your favorite diner. There you would share a million questions and a million kisses, until your food was cold, and the sun was unbelievably hot through the window.

“I can’t imagine what’s back here in Texas that’d make you leave those Australian fellers behind.”

You flashed him a tired smile from across the both. Knees drawn up to your chin, hair messily piled on top of your head, and swathed in a colorful t-shirt, Arthur would bet money you were the most gorgeous thing on earth.

“I have a pretty good answer I think.” you carefully raised your hot mug of peppermint tea to your lips.

“Yeah? They wouldn’t wake up at the break of dawn and kill spiders for you?” he chuckled, raising his own mug of coffee.

You shook your head, and when you lowered your mug he saw you were smirking. “None of them got me pregnant.”

The coffee went down the wrong way, and aspiration kicked in. He spluttered, a hand coming up to grip the table. You leapt up, and circled the table to slide into his booth.

“Are you ok?!” your voice was wrought with concern as you thumped his back. “I hoped you’d have a funny reaction, but I wasn’t trying to kill you!”

He sucked in a mouthful of air, a burning pain snaking through his chest. “You pranking me? Like in those stupid videos you and Mary-Beth watch? I don’t wanna end up on that dumb video site.”

“Wow,” you gave that funny little ( loud ) laugh of yours, and threw your arms around his neck. “I expected a lot of reactions from you, but not that one. No, I’m serious.”

He sighed, and ran a hand over his chin. He was sure all color had drained from his face, if the faint dizzy feeling was anything to go by. He could you hear you calling his name, but his mind just kept wanting him to hear the word “pregnant”.

Your hands uncoiled from around his neck. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t say you got me pregnant either.”

He shot you a withering side glare at your joke. “No, I don’t believe it does.”

He could feel you staring at his profile, but he was too busy staring at his mug instead.

“Well...I need some kind of response big guy. I mean what do you think?” you placed your hands on the table, fingers pressing into each other. “Are you...mad?”

He could hear you were unsure, a sound that was foreign for you. Mad? He found it hard to get mad with you as it was, and this certainly wouldn’t have been a valid case for it.

“You know me better than that, of course I ain’t mad….just a lot of other things I guess.” he exhaled and turned to face you. “You certainly seem relaxed enough for the both of us.”

You grinned and shrugged, and he wondered why he had ever expected a typical reaction from you.

“I had two whole days, and a long ass flight to think it over. I’m not scared Arthur, I’m ok with this.” your voice was firm this time, steady. “It’s like a new adventure, you know me and adventure.”

He snorted. “Catnip.”

“I’m as settled as I’m ever gonna get, I’m fine with it, I can still explore the world in the future. But...I need to know where you stand.”

He felt your gaze on him again, and repeated your words in his head. Pregnant. The best thing he’d ever come across in his life, and he’s quite possibly ruined yours. You were a beautiful young woman who, while well traveled and experienced, still had so much to offer the world. Had he stolen that away from you?

He saw your hand tremble slightly, and took it into his much larger one. For a second, he just stared at it, before enclosing it in his. “My lady I stand with you. I just want you to know what you’re tying yourself to is all.”

He could sense you wanted to stop him. You didn’t like when it seemed like he was going to “put himself down”. Being honest is what he called it.

“You know about my past.” he exhaled and continued when he felt you squeeze his hand. “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig that’s committed too many atrocities to name. I don’t rightly know what kind of business I have being near a child for too long, let alone raising one of my own, but I would never leave you. You know that.”

“I do.” you squeezed his hand again, longer this time.

“So, if you wanted to do the leaving...If you wanted to give this child something different than me...or do something..else for yourself. I wouldn’t fight you.”

“I want to stay with you.” your arms returned around his neck. “Fight me about that.”

“I should.” he drawled, leaning into the warm lips you’d placed on his cheek.

“But you won’t.”

He faced you fully, finally, hand coming up to cradle your jaw. “No, I won’t.”

Goddamn he’d made yet another mess, but when he saw your face light up as you started talking about the future, he couldn’t be too angry with himself this time.

4. Coffee

Waking up before everyone else, to get the house kitchen for yourself, always made losing that extra bit of sleep worth it. You loved finally having a family, but the quiet moments were nice too. No bickering, it wasn’t quite time to worry about what the guests wanted (not that you had to worry about that again for a while), and you could just exhale and take your time.

It was also a great time for coffee, though you had tried to scale back with the pregnancy. Decaf coffee may not have given you the buzz of caffeinated coffee, but it still helped with the craving. Maybe Charles was right, and you were a slave to the bean….

You chortled into your mug at the thought.

“That mug funnier than me?”

You laughed again, extending your foot to slide out the chair across from you. “Arthur Morgan I bet you’re jealous of my pillow for getting to touch my hair all night.”

He took the offered seat, and sleepily ran his hands through his hair. “Probably, I do like that shampoo you use.”

You rolled your eyes, and brought your mug up to your amused grin. A comfortable silence settled between you two, as the morning’s first light began to shine through the giant picture window.

Arthur was the first to break it. “Are you sleeping ok? I know you usually get up early, but it was dark out. If you aren’t sleeping, we should probably tell th-”

“I’m fine mother hen, god you’ve been adorable through this.” you beamed at your protective man, who was currently blushing and ducking under your gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. It ain’t as noble as all that. I’m just trying to save myself the ‘this is your fault’ speech when the time comes.”

You sat down your empty mug and gave him a pitying look. “Aww. No baby, that’s still happening regardless. Sorry.”

“Can’t blame a feller for giving it his best.” he looked out of the window for a while, his gaze darting across the scenery, before clearing his throat. “Look here (Y/N). I’ve been sitting on this thing for a while.”

He reached into the pocket of his pajama pants, and you tensed up. It didn’t take a genius to gather what the moment’s energy was telling you. Sure enough, he produced a ring, revealing your instinct to be right. You gasped, though it came out somewhat choked, but didn’t speak.

“Now it’s not because you’re pregnant, Abigail said you wouldn’t like that to be the reason, and it’s not. I was planning on asking when you got back from Australia-”

“Yes!” you screamed the word that had been looping in your mind since you saw the ring.

“Ssh.” he half-laughed half-shushed you. “You want everybody in here? Nosey enough on their own, make em’ work for it at least.”

“I don’t care who hears.” you lightly stamped your feet on the tile floor.

He laughed again, blue eyes shining with confidence now that rejection was off the table. This poor sweet man thought you’d reject him, even after all you’d been through and had yet to go through. Not a chance.

“Well then.” he kneeled on the tile floor you knew to be freezing, and held up the ring. “Miss (Y/N) (L/N), I would very much appreciate if you would be an old fool’s wife.”

You pulled him to you by his shirt, and threw your arms around him. “Yes, but I don’t know any, so you’ll have to do instead.”

You two shared a solid embrace, Arthur ever careful of your growing stomach, and you nearly choking the life out of him. He took your hand is his, and you could feel his trembling. He slid the ring on your finger and just stared at it as if he couldn’t believe it. Maybe he couldn’t, you were sure his self-doubts were telling him it was all a lie. You kissed his forehead, hoping if he was having any such thoughts, they would perish. His hands came up to lay gently on the just-noticeable bump of your stomach.

“I swear to you, I will do my best to make you two very happy, and keep you safe.”

You just kissed him instead of responding with words. You didn’t have to. You knew he loved you deeply, and would do his best to keep his word. He was a big part of what you called home, and you couldn’t think of any place safer.

End Note - I took so much longer than I wanted with this. I just kept deleting and going back and forth. I hope it’s ok.I’m gonna be posting a HC for this AU, and then posting something for Hosea after that.

[nadineselfships-archived]

*slams hands on table* PLEASE TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR YOUxMARKUS SELFSHIP YOU WONDERFUL BEING

!!!!! Oh goodness okay!! Oh golly where to start akskdkfkfkfkal Okay well!! I have three au’s for it so too keep this short I’ll just talk about the first one I made!! (This turned into a long af how we met and fell in love and confessed thing I hope that’s okay?? XD)

In my au where I’m a human helping Androids to hide and repairing them with my sibling Markus and i meet because a few androids arriving at jericho mention us and what we’re doing and how we could replicate thirium so he decides that maybe we could help the damaged androids at jericho!! So he shows up and I’m busy repairing an androids arm when my sibling walks in with him in tow and the second I see his eyes I am Done For. He sees me and of course can see I am a relatively attractive human but he’s much more focused on asking if we will come to Jericho, so he does so and after some discussion we agree to go.

So while we’re at Jericho Markus will find me whether I’m repairing an android or making some more thirium in the make-shift lab he set up for us and will talk with me for hours, at first he’d just ask why I wanted to help androids and ask me about my views and beliefs and thoughts on the revolution but then he soon starts inquiring about my life, my hobbies and more personal things like that. Me, being the emotionally damaged human I am, become smitten with the android leader who is nothing but kind and sweet to me and cherish the times he comes to speak with me; I ask him questions about him and his life and he tells me all about Carl and has such a fondness in his voice when he talks about him that makes my heart swell.

Markus starts wanting to see and talk to me more and more, enjoying how easy it is to talk to me and how kind I am, he also finds it adorable with how goofy and childish I act at times. As the revolution continues on and things get more stressful he’ll find himself seeking me out for comfort and advice, which I happily give of course! We’ll sit either in Jericho or ontop of somewhere high because we both like high places and I’ll try to help ease his worries and conflictions as much as I can, I assure him we’ll all be there with him no matter what happens and the sincerity in my voice and eyes leaves him feeling less heavy.

I don’t get to join the first March but I do go with them on the final March and stand with them in the barricade, it’s high stress and Markus is worried I’ll get hurt so he makes sure I’m always in his line of sight. When they throw the smoke bomb and start firing I get hit in the leg and after shielding and helping other androids Markus finds me behind a barrel with my sibling hovering over me protectively and assures me I’ll be okay. And I am, after the stand off and the beautiful song the androids sang I got sent to hospital where the bullet was removed and I made a full recovery.

When I returned to Jericho Markus was the first to see me, he’d been waiting outside of Jericho and the moment he saw me he rushed to envelop me in his arms and we stayed in a tight embrace for what felt like forever. After this I attend meetings with him and all the continued marches, I no longer need to replicate thirium or repair androids because it was passed that all androids should have free, neverending access to thirium. I get to meet Carl and we get along!! So well!! I gush over his paintings and he tells me great jokes and Markus can’t understand why he’s so happy to see us get along so well. Carl makes a point to tell him when I leave, this is when Markus realizes over the time he’s spent with me he fell in love with me; my kindness towards everyone, my softness when I repaired androids, my honesty and sincerity, my smile, everything about me seemed to set him on fire and for an android who made speeches constantly he couldn’t figure out how to put into words how he felt for me.

So now Markus finds himself in the predicament of wanting to tell me but being too busy with meetings and marches and interviews and paperwork and the strange occurrence of now fumbling over himself when around me, the words he wants to say getting jumbled and becoming lost as he feels a new sense of fear. Fear of rejection, fear of putting unwanted attention on me if I returned his feelings, fear of not being able to give me what an human could. Meanwhile I was worried about him because he was acting so strange, I was concerned all the meetings and stress was taking a toll on him so I talked to the rest of the Jericho and planned an impromtu, 24 hour, vacation. Of course Markus would never just say yes to ‘abandoning’ everything for a day so we have to trick him and with Carl’s added help trick him we do.

It isn’t until Markus is sitting in the living room of my house, in a messy pillow fort that he realised that he’d been bamboozled and even though he wants to protest he can’t seem to bring himself to say no to my big brown puppy dog eyes. So he tries his best to let himself relax, which isn’t easy when he’s being cuddled by the person he loves who happens to be wearing a cute sweater and short shorts and glasses he didn’t know she had and look very cute on her. It’s been a while since he’s been alone with me so he finds himself panicking, this would be the perfect opportunity to confess but he wasn’t sure if he should. I of course noticed he wasn’t relaxing and decided to introduce him to some of my favourite movies, which he didn’t really watch because he was too busy watching me and admiring how excited I got at certain parts.

When nighttime came and Markus realised the time he had alone with me was drawing to an end he finally caved and while I was dancing around the kitchen making myself a small dinner he walked up to me and took my hands gently, a fearful yet hopeful expression on his face.

“Nadine, I’ve been trying to think of all the ways to say this for months but no words or metaphors can explain the feelings I have for you. I could stand here and list all the reasons but we would be here forever, I- This feeling is new to me, and I only feel it when I’m with you. I don’t want you to feel obligated to return these feelings at all, I just need to tell you, I’m in love with you. You don’t-”

“I’m in love with you too! I- I’m not too great with words, as you know, but I am so, madly, undoubtedly, in love with you Markus Manfred.”

Be it the wave of emotion, the closeness or the addition of his last name, Markus leant forward and kissed me with all the passion and feeling that was in his body. I had already had my first kiss but this first kiss with Markus made all other kisses before it seem insignificant, the love and sincerity and passion made me dizzy and left a tingling sensation on my lips. After staring into each other eyes giant grins split across our faces and we began laughing, feeling nothing but pure joy Markus spun me around and held me until I realised my food was burning.

We didn’t tell anyone besides Carl because Carl could tell the moment he saw us and trying to hide it from him would have been impossible. Slowly the jericrew and my sibling began to catch on and we eventually told them but still kept our relationship lowkey, being the first android/human relationship and said android being the leader of the revolution made Markus very wary to let it be public.

Our relationship is full of love and support and goofiness and comfort and is so sickeningly sweet, we call each other pet names and cuddle and cover each other in kisses and we never have enough compliments for the other. We can’t go out on public dates for the beginning of our relationship so Markus will plan private dates like inviting me to Carl’s house and playing piano for me and dancing with me or sneaking into my house and making a pillow fort and having a movie marathon with me but eventually when we can go on public dates he takes me on roadtrips, to the beach, nature walks, an actual movie theater, rollerblading, so many dates.

He doesn’t need to sleep but he loves having me curled up on his chest with his arms wrapped around me protectively, he loves watching me so peaceful and loves even more when I slowly open my eyes and greet him with a small hum in the morning. He’ll make me a coffee and breakfast in the morning and if he has the day off he’ll spend it with me and sometimes we’ll go see Carl, my sibling or the jericrew!!

We end up moving in together and getting two dogs!! A chihuahua named Ralph and a husky named Carl!! (You may be wondering how I know Ralph in this au, he was one of the damaged androids we helped and took in and I!! Became very fond of him!!)

Thank you for asking about me and Markus and letting me get out this word vomit i adore him with my heart and soul and will never pass up an opportunity to yell about him!!! Lemme know if you want me to ramble about the other two au’s because I am down to do that always!!!! Anyway thank you again and I hope you’re having an awesome day/night wherever you are anon 💜💜💜

[tiffanytheweirdo]

When girls meet (Part 2)–Sanvers x Avalance

I am sorry for hanging you all there for so long but I'm back at my efficient self now. Guess I just got recharged from my vacation. Anyway enjoy and let me know if you people wants more Sanvers and Avalance crossovers!

Part 1

"Maggie?" Alex asks nervously. She's about to put forward the double date idea; she doesn't want to scar her girl off, nor disrupt their chill atmosphere.

"Yeah babe? You okay?" Maggie notices Alex's nervous tone.

"Yeah, just wanna ask you something" Alex fidgets her hands like she would when she's nervous.

"Hey, you can ask me anything" Maggie reassures softly, taking Alex's hands into hers.

Taking a deep breath, Alex looks up into Maggie's eyes.

"Sara and I are planning this double date night. This Friday, at my dorm. Would you like to come? I know you haven't meet Sara yet, I haven't meet her girl yet too" Alex chuckles before she continues her rambling.

"Ermmm would you wanna come? It's okay if you don't, if you feel like you're not ready. I can just tell Sara and change the plan back to a normal date night with you and--"

"Whoa Danvers, breathe there" Maggie cuts off Alex's rambling by moving her hands to capture Alex's face.

Alex blushes, leaning into Maggie's touch.

"And you know what? I would love to meet your best friend" Maggie says, drawing Alex closer to herself.

"Yeah?" Alex hooks her hands behind Maggie's neck.

"Yeah"And the two lean into each other for a kiss.A slow, sweet, passionate kiss.

"Aves? Can I ask you something?" Sara leans back into Ava's embrace and asks.

"Of course babe" Ava smiles and tighten her arms around Sara, dropping a kiss on top of Sara's head.

"Erm would you like to go on a double date with Alex and her girlfriends this friday? We are planning to stay in Alex's dorm, to make things causal, you know, like Netflix and chill. And you don't have to come if--" Sara rambles out the plan nervously. She really wants this to work.

"Sara honey, I would love to" Moving Sara to face her, Ava cuts her girl off.

"You what?" Sara blinks, unable to process Ava's reply.

"I would love to go on this double date and meet you best friend" Ava repeats, smiling sweetly at Sara.

Sara just stares at Ava. Ava chuckles, placing a peck on Sara's lips to get her attention.

"You sure?" Sara asks. She doesn't expect Ava would say yes right away.

"I'm serious. I would love to meet this Alex who is so important to you. I bet we four can be good friends" Ava draws Sara close to herself, cradling Sara's head against her chest. She knows how Sara may feel insecure sometimes.

"Thank you Aves" Sara whispers, blinking away the sudden tears.

Ava doesn't say anything. She just drop a kiss onto Sara's head.

A sincere, loving, promising kiss.

Alex and Maggie are already in Alex's room, couch set up with pillows and blankets. Netflix has been pulled up on the TV and they are waiting for Sara and Ava to come. They agreed go buy take outs on their way over. 

Maggie's nervous. After all, Sara is the only  person she got to meet who is Alex's family, except Alex's younger sister Kara.

Alex lets Maggie paces back and forth in front of her for a few minutes before she intervenes.

"Come here Mags" Alex says, arms open.

Maggie snuggles into Alex, hiding her head in the crock of Alex's neck.

"Relax babe. It gonna be fine" Alex strokes Maggie's hair softly.

"I know. I just can't help" Maggie sighs.

Alex chuckles a bit.

"What's so funny?" Maggie grumbles.

"Nothing, just think you're so cute"

"Pftt am not" Maggie denies with a smirk, pulling back slightly for Alex to see her.

"Whatever you said babe" Alex smirks back, leaning in for a heated kiss.

"Quit the kissing Alex Danvers or you will have no dinner tonight" Sara's voice startles the two apart.

"Really, Sara? Still haven't learn to knock?" Alex rolls her eyes, looking down at Maggie who again buried her head in Alex's neck.

"I'll consider it from now on, just in case" Alex can hear that smirk of Sara even she's not looking at her.

"Come on Mags, let introduce you to Sara properly before she forbids us from dinner" Alex nudges Maggie off her lap and stands up, pulling Maggie to her side.

Sara is standing behind the couch, fingers intertwined with Ava's. She smiles contently at Alex and gives her a wink, telling her that they look good together.   Alex winks back. She knows the message in Sara's wink and she thinks the same for her and Ava.

"Maggie, this is my best friend Sara Lance and her girlfriend Ava. Sara, this is Maggie Sawyer, my girlfriend." Alex takes the initiative. She can't believe this is happening and her heart's beating so fast.

Maggie says a soft hi with genuine smile to the girls standing in front of her.

"Ava, this is my best friend Alex Danvers and her girl. Alex, this is my girl Ava Sharpe"

"Hand me the food Lance, I'm hungry"

"Impatient as always, Danvers"

"No Disney movies, Kara's not here"

"Well I can call her to come over"

"I want a rematch!"

"Shut it Lance. Don't be such a sore loser"

Their night is filled with ridiculously childish bickering between Alex and Sara.

"These girls huh?" Maggie says to Ava with a fond smile on her face.

"Dorks" Ava simply states.

And the two burst into laughter, causing Alex and Sara pause their banter to look at them.

"What so funny?" Sara asks, moving to settle herself on Ava's lap.

Alex does the same and nuzzles into Maggie's front.

"Nothing special" Ava tries to shrug nonchalantly but her chuckle betrays her.

"Yeah nothing" Maggie echoes with a suppressed giggle.

"Huh? You two already ganging up on us?" Alex raises an eyebrow.

"Oh no, you gotta not" Sara threatens mockingly.

"Nah. We just think you two are cute, right Maggie?" Ava looks over to Maggie with a smirk.

"Yeah, you know I won't go against you with others babe" Maggie kisses the corner of Alex's mouth cheesily.

"You make Alex happy" Sara says suddenly, startling Maggie a bit.

Alex has gone to the bathroom and Ava is somewhere in the kitchen fixing them drinks.

"Well, that's my job right?" Maggie replies with a smirk, knowing she will have this shovel talk from Sara at some point.

"Then you better do it well. Or else, you know I can kick your ass" Sara threatens.

"You have my words" 

"Thank you for the night Alex" Ava says to Alex in a hushed tone. Sara somehow falls asleep on Ava's lap during the last movie they're watching.

"You're welcome. To be honest, I haven't seen Sara this happy in a long time. you know, after Laurel..." Alex gives Ava a small sad smile, tightening her arms around a half-asleep Maggie.

"I plan to keep her this way, to keep her happy" Ava says, stroking Sara's hair lovingly.

"Good. You better" Alex says with a hint of threatening in her tone.

"No worries, you won't have to kick my ass"