#i don't care about those but my car looks Visibly Broken from this one :/

[lady-harrowhark]

went home for lunch, got out of my car and realized that someone had left me a little gift in the form of a piece of some sort of industrial metal cabling, which they have helpfully used to tear through the front bumper of my car. they even ripped out the grille to make room for this new acquisition, very thoughtful!

[shortnotsweet]

APPLES IN THE SKY (excerpt from THE THRILLING AND NOT AT ALL REPETITIVE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN MAN AND KID DANGER: “A CHRONOLOGY OF ENTIRELY TRUE AND HEROIC EVENTS COINCIDING WITH THE END OF HISTORY”) [1] [2] [3] [4]

[ Henry’s face is unreadable. In the background, desert mountains and vegetation rush past. Smoke rises in the distance, backlighting ambiguous red shapes that could be plant life, flaming crosses, or even ominous figures. The camera cuts to the back of the car with the invalid license plate reading “HERO”, speeding towards a red horizon. Ray twists back in his seat with a smile, reflected in the lens of Henry’s sunglasses. In the review mirror, Henry’s expression is contemplative. The shot pans to a bird’s eye view of the car eating up highway miles. ]

Charli XCX’s “Apple” from BRAT (2024): “I guess the apple could turn yellow or green. I know there's lots of different nuances to you and to me—I wanna grow the apple, keep all the seeds, but I can't help but get so angry you don't listen to me. To the airport—the airport.”

PANEL NOTES:

The smoke is an implication of wildfires in the surrounding area, which Henry and Ray simply drive past because there’s nothing else to do. Maybe those days are behind them. Maybe they’re just not adept in the art of firefighting, and the bigness of a wildfire is too rural or too raw for them to even adress. I think there’s a sort of irony to it, and it’s either heroes ignoring a disaster past their prime or simple not caring; they’re speeding off into an undefined future and therefore no longer grappling with apathy, but sliding into it. Thus, the road is interpreted as a junction between natural conflict running its course and urban obligation.

This was vaguely inspired, albeit not lifted directly, from my millionth or so reread of “Cuticle Tear” by atbash on AO3. Granted, it takes place in a broken-down truck and is not needlessly melodramatic, but AO3 user atbash does more with obligatory dialogue and omitted assumptions than I could do in 20 panels or so.

Specifically, the lyric “‘cause I’ve been looking at you so long now I only see me. I wanna throw the apple into the sky, feels like you never understand me, so I just wanna drive…” struck me as somewhat in line with the feeling—and example—I got from the fic.

Of course, neither yellow or green are used in the actual color palette, but the song carries themes of intertwined identity and generational effects passed down. I think Ray has imparted a lot of the best and worst things about himself to Henry, through the means of their friendship, professional, and mentor relationship. He’s not his dad. It’s worse, almost, that he’s not, because then it would at least be hereditary.

“Apple” is my favorite BRAT (2024) song right now, so of course it’s stuck in my head; I think there’s a flippant, escapist quality to it and can imagine two friends listening to it on the highway, checking out, but also—there’s not quite a realization, more like an unspoken feeling that what you are is a product. And it’s someone else’s fault. And when you look at each other, you’re seeing something else, or maybe you’re trying to. There’s something distantly escapist and obviously upbeat about the song, but there’s a disdain there, too.

It’s hardly visible, but the license plate on the car reads “HERO” singular, which is invalid but implies they have either a fake plate or Swellview is just so strange that their town itself has exceptions as to how they’re issued, again violating the laws and conventional physics of surrounding territory. They’re a weird exception, as always, and they’re getting away with it.

Their identities are so intertwined at this point that theyre conflated, so there’s an obligatory ego flattening going on as well as an erasure of both or one of them—most likely Henry’s—to accommodate. You might call it being a teammate, although how Henry feels about it after all this time is unsure.

Ray did this to him, the good and the bad doesn’t matter; it’s the fact that he did it.

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 38 ~ Worries and Apologies

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 3

✧ Word Count : 5k

In this chapter ~ After Andrea left the mere second she could, the rest were forced to think over what she had told them. It all led to worry breaking out among the group, affecting Rose the most as she thought of the different scenarios of what could happen to the people she loved. However, Daryl was right by her side to calm her nerves and assure her of the things she feared the most. Not only that, but she also received a long and overdue apology from a certain someone.

About an hour had passed after the heated conversation, before Andrea finally made her big decision to head back to Woodbury. I wasn't exactly surprised in the slightest however, and it's safe to say everyone was feeling the same way as we watched her gather her things. She squirmed a little uncomfortably under all of our gazes, but I thought it was well deserved, watching her visibly turn her back on all of us.

Though Rick insisted for her to take one of our cars to drive back there instead of walking the whole way, which I thought was a little too generous, but I managed to keep my mouth shut. Though I quickly offered to get one of our cars and drive it up myself so she could take it, only really doing it so I could bring back the shittiest one we had. Rick was an idiot if he actually thought I was about to bring back one of the nice ones just for her to take it away and ruin it.

I pulled up far enough so they could open the gate for me as I drove in, veering it off toward the side and putting it in park. Andrea was right by the door as I slightly stepped out, staying in place as I told her how to work this one.

"Okay, this one's a little testy so go easy on the breaks and...oh, you see those wires?" I asked as I gestured to the loose ones under the steering wheel, seeing her nod in return, "Don't touch them." I concluded with a bitter smile before fully exiting the car.

Walking back over to the others, I stood next to Rick who only gave me a pointed look as he noticed what I had done, though I only shrugged in response.

Andrea then glanced around to every single face as we waited to send her off, nodding to herself as there was a little sympathy in her eyes. "Well...take care." she muttered before fully getting into the vehicle, closing the door to take off.

My eyes followed the car, watching Merle pull open the gate for her before I raised my hand up to flip her off as one final goodbye. But Rick quietly scoffed as he reached to push my arm back down, sending me another disapproving look.

"Oh, come on." I muttered, "Take care? Really?" I asked in slight disbelief.

He shook his head, "I know."

Everyone silently watched the car drive further and further away as a new feeling washed over us all. It was uncomfortable and tense and I could tell some were losing hope. After the things that Andrea informed, her begging us to just cooperate so we wouldn't lose this battle, it affected us in some way. Almost like another harsh reality check just like the monsters that were still left in the field.

Once the car completely disappeared from view, I quietly offered to take watch for a little while so Maggie and Carl could rest and have a break. I also found I just wanted a little time to myself, to sit outside and feel the sun on my skin, allowing myself to think over the things we were just told.

Night had eventually fallen but I was still outside watching everything around me even after hours of being out there alone, keeping my eyes peeled for any type of threat. Well, besides the obvious ones that were still snarling on the fields. It was quiet though as I sat by myself, though I didn't mind because of how many more things I was still thinking about over and over again like some kind of broken record.

Andrea showing up mixed in with the conversation I had with Merle left me feeling empty. I wanted to believe that we would win this, that we would get through it, but I honestly wasn't so sure anymore. With my eyes focused on all the walkers in the field, it was just a reminder of what The Governor was capable of. It scared me so badly thinking about the possibility of losing my family, but it was all I could seem to think about. I would rather sacrifice myself a thousand different times before accepting the loss of anyone else. We had already witnessed too much death, experienced so much grief, we didn't need any more of it.

My mind seemed to continue to stay on this loop for what felt like forever as I spaced off. That is until I heard quiet footsteps coming up from behind me and I turned over my shoulder to see Daryl, with a small smile on his face as he made his way over. Though I couldn't find the strength to smile back.

He plopped down next to me with a sigh, "You been out here a while." he stated the obvious.

I only shrugged, "...Just thinking."

"Thinkin? About?" he asked while nudging me.

I sighed as I turned to look out at the fields once more, "Everything."

He nodded and stayed quiet, as we let the calmness of the night do all of the talking we needed to fill the silence. I slowly moved to rest my head on his shoulder while the gun laid lazily in my lap, my eyes watching the walkers move back and forth like clockwork against the gates as they growled. He rested his head on top of mine and delicately moved to place a hand on my thigh, rubbing his thumb lightly over the fabric of my jeans.

I let my mind wander back to The Governor once again and let my anxiety take over as I started to fidget with my hands a little. I couldn't stop. It was like a constant spiral of thoughts were just spinning around my mind, taunting me almost. Seeing how far they could push me before I would just completely break down. But Daryl noticed almost immediately and gently placed his hand on top of mine to get me to stop the moment he realized.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

I slowly lifted my head to look him in the eye, taking in a soft breath, "I'm scared." I admitted, letting the words come out only above a whisper as if I was dreading to admit the defeat out loud.

He his face drastically dropped, bringing me into his arms as he hugged me and pulling me closer to his chest. I squeezed him tightly, as if I were to let him go, he would slip away from me again. The thought of him leaving scared me, but the thought of losing him for good terrified me.

He slowly let go of me and place his pointer finger under my chin so I would look at him, "M' gonna protect ya no matter what." he assured me.

I shook my head, "That's what I'm afraid of."

His expression morphed into confusion, "What do ya mean?"

"I know you would protect me; you would take a bullet for me. But that's what scares me. I don't want to lose you again."

"I ain't gonna die on ya-"

"You don't know that." I was quick to defend, "Daryl, it was hell when I lost you the first time, and that was when I knew you were alive. I don't even know what I would do with myself if you..." I trailed off suddenly.

He shook his head, "Don't think like that."

"I'm just trying to be realistic. After Merle and I talked-"

He huffed out a breath that made me stop in my tracks, "I fuckin knew that's what this was bout, Rosie he's just tryin to get in yer head. It's the only thing he's good at."

"No, he's not." I quickly said, "Believe me I thought that too at first, but he was right...and that scares me too."

He sighed heavily as he tried to think of the right words to say to me. His eyes held so much emotion and all I wanted right now was to get a peek inside his mind and get even a glimpse at what he was thinking. Know exactly the things he wanted to say and piece it together myself.

"I dunno what's gonna happen." he finally spoke, "I can't sit here and tell ya that everthin is gonna be alright cause I don't know that. But I do know that all of us together are strong as hell. We've all been fightin left and right since the beginnin and always had each other's backs, that's somethin that won't change. I think we can beat this as long as we have everyone else, and that's all that matters."

I was taken aback for a second at his words, feeling myself smile a little, almost in pride. "When did you get so wise?" I asked teasingly as I nudged him.

He rolled his eyes, "When my girl started to freak out about all of us dyin. We protect each other. We survived this didn't we?" he asked, gesturing to the field of walkers.

My eyes followed to where he pointed, silently nodding my head in agreement, "Yeah... and you're right. We just have to fight like hell."

"Yeah...and m' more than ready to do it." he stated.

I tilted my head as I looked back over to him, "Why's that?"

His gaze then ducked down a little to try and hide the redness in his cheeks, but I still saw. I always did. "Cause I finally got something to fight for." he said quietly.

A growing smile spread across my face as I stared at him lovingly, "Me too." I whispered.

He looked back up at me and smiled, gently cupping his hand on the side of my face to pull me in for a sweet kiss. I now found I couldn't stop thinking about what he said to me, and how safe I felt in his arms. How he was able to calm me when all I could seem to do was worry. Flipping it completely like a light switch. I was so deeply in love with this man.

He then broke away after a moment or two, pecking my lips once more before fully pulling back, "Alright, come on, let's get ya inside. You need some sleep."

I didn't argue with that, mostly because I could slowly feel the drowsiness sneaking up on me and I knew I had stayed out there for far too long. Though I silently knew in the back of my mind that if he hadn't come out here to drag me back in, I probably wouldn't have for the rest of the night.

As we walked back into the prison, Beth's soft and gentle voice filled the air as she sung, echoing around the cement walls as we made our way through. We walked into the cellblock to see it being lit up by a few candles with the group sitting around just enjoying Beth's harmony along with each other's company. I found myself trailing in slowly, leaning up against a wall next to Hershel and Rick, Daryl following right by my side as we all stood in silence for a moment.

"Andrea's in a jam." Rick suddenly whispered over to the three of us quietly, bouncing Judith lightly in his arms.

"We all are. Andrea's persuasive, this fella's armed to the teeth. Bent on destruction." Hershel said bluntly.

Daryl tilted his head a bit toward him, "So, what do you wanna do?"

"We match it," Rick said, "I'm going on a run."

I looked towards him, noticing how tired he looked, "I can head out tomorrow." I offered instead.

He shook his head, "No, you stay here. You and Daryl keep an eye on Merle for me." he spoke before looking directly at Daryl, "I'm glad you're back, really...but if he causes a problem, it's on you."

He nodded his head in understanding, "I got him."

"I'm gonna take Michonne with me, and Carl. I think he's ready. I'm counting on you two to hold down the fort for me." he nodded to Daryl and I.

"You got it." I assured him with a small nod.

The conversation ended there, all of us just tuning back in to listen to Beth while we embraced each other's company. I truly wanted to cherish each moment I had like this, not knowing when it would be the last. Even after Daryl's reassurance, there was obviously still a little worry I had in the back of my mind, though I had hope we would all make it through just like everything else.

But I also grew to think about if and when we moved past this, what would be the next obstacle? What would be the next thing that threatened to tear us apart? I didn't want to waste it, any time I had left with the people I loved and kept the closest to me, I would hold it near my heart forever. Never wanting to take any of it for granted.

My eyes then scanned around the room at everyone and paused briefly on Glenn who was surprisingly already looking at me. We hadn't spoken a word to each other all day besides the little argument we had earlier. He had no idea how badly I just wanted this to be over, to be able to apologize to each other and actually stand to be within the same room without tearing each other apart. But I knew I should at least wait until tomorrow.

Right now, I was enjoying this peaceful moment with my family. A moment that I really needed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~THIRD PERSON POV*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning everyone woke up early and Rick kept his word as he packed up and headed out on a run with Michonne and Carl. Though the real reason he wanted to bring the woman along with them was because he simply didn't trust her to be at the prison with everyone else. He would've much rather her come with the two of them so he could keep an eye on her, see how well she would do with scavenging, how well she could watch their backs. How well she could potentially fit in with the rest given some time.

But with that, they gathered their things and all hopped in a car and took off down the gravel road, hoping to find the weapons and ammo they so desperately needed. With how low they were running recently, they would need everything they could get in order to make it through this sudden reality.

Silence fell over the prison as everyone kept to themselves for most of the day it seemed like. All of them just did their own thing, but still helping out in some way. Someone would watch Judith, two or three people at a time would keep watch, and some others would help with making food or doing a weapon check.

Daryl was currently keeping watch in the silence, and that alone gave him some time to think. He found he was slightly stressed even though he would never admit it out loud. Rick leaving him and Rose in charge of the whole group made him feel uneasy for some reason, especially when they had to watch their backs twenty-four-seven now. He never really liked the idea of leading a group and was always somewhat glad Rick stepped up to fill that position because he knew he could never do it himself. It was truly too much responsibility, and worry filled him at the thought of something happening while he was out.

But he quickly reminded himself that it was just for the day, and that he had Rose looking out for everyone too. He wasn't in this alone; he never was. It was something he was still getting used to.

His mind then began to wander to the conversation him and Rose shared last night, mindlessly glancing over to the spot they sat. It hurt him to see how worried she was about everything, even though she had a very good reason to be. Worrying about everyone else around her as well as him.

Though he didn't think she quite understood just how much he cared about her. Yes, she knew, but did she actually understand? It was like ever since he laid eyes on her, he felt the sudden urge to protect her. No matter what it was. He would protect her from the whole goddamn world if it were possible, wanting to shield her from anything that could hurt her.

Though these feelings of overprotectiveness confused him in the beginning of it all, not wanting to get attached, he found he still did with just a snap of her finger. But he wouldn't want it any other way.

The man truly meant it when he thought she brought out the best in him, because it was nothing but the truth. It was like he became this whole entirely new person when he was around her. He was soft and kind instead of cold and distant like he used to be. But he soon realized he wanted to be a better person for her. It now all made sense on why he was feeling these different things for her, even in the beginning. He was so in love with her, but his heart knew it before his head could even comprehend it.

Though now that he was thinking about it, his face scrunched up a little as he wondered what she was doing right now. He had gotten up earlier than she did and slipped out of their cell quietly so she could sleep a little longer, and he's been outside ever since.

"Hey Daryl!" he heard a voice suddenly call.

He turned around to see Maggie standing there with one hand blocking the sun from her eyes, "I can take over if you want to relax a bit?" she suggested.

He nodded his head, "Thanks." he said before switching places with her, turning to head back into the prison and out of the baking sun.

When he made it over to pull open the heavy door, making his way into the common room, he stopped dead in his tracks with furrowed brows as he almost didn't believe what he was seeing. Merle was sitting down at one of the tables with Rose placed right across from him, playing cards together peacefully. He stood back for a moment in complete silence, watching them with a small smile on his face and his arms crossed over his chest as he was almost curious to see the interaction.

Rose sighed in defeat as she glanced up, "Alright what do you got?" she asked the man.

Merle gestured out to her, "Please, lady's first."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, laying down her cards that clearly weren't a very good pair. Daryl couldn't really tell what they were from where he was standing, but just by seeing the look on Merle's face, she had clearly lost terribly.

Merle started to chuckle, placing his cards down flat on the table right after her, "Ace of spades little lady." he bragged.

"How?" Rose questioned, with shock clear in her voice.

He shrugged, "Years of practice. Give up yet?" he asked while gathering the entire deck in his hands.

"No...I'll win one game, I can feel it." she said oh so confidently with a smug smile.

Merle chuckled at the girl before taking a brief moment to really look at her. There was no denying that there was something about her that drew him in. Though not in any romantic way, he couldn't really pinpoint what it was. She radiated a very good energy that he desperately needed, and he couldn't help but wonder if that was part of the reason Daryl was with her.

She made him somehow feel warmer inside even though he hardly knew her at all. It was a little concerning to him considering Merle didn't really care much for anyone, but as he spent more time with her, the man grew to care the smallest bit for Rose. But he would rather die than say it out loud of course.

He then snapped out of his thoughts and started to shuffle the cards expertly on the table, "Alright suit yourself. But just know this will end with me winning the twelfth game in a row." he spoke cockily.

"Well, it's a good thing we aren't betting on anything then, isn't it?" she questioned with a tilt of her head.

He chuckled quietly to himself as he started to pass out the cards. "Careful, he cheats like there's no tomorrow." Daryl's voice suddenly spoke from the entrance.

Their heads turned towards the right as they looked at him and Rose instantly smiled, "Hey, where have you been?"

"Been out on watch for a few hours," he muttered as he moved across the space to take a seat next to her, "What're ya playin?"

"Playin rummy, and your girl here hasn't won a single game." Merle stated.

Rose placed a hand over her chest in mock offense, "Wow, you know in my defense it's been a while since I've played, okay? No need to get cocky."

The brothers chuckled quietly, while Daryl then spotted some soup Rose had been eating right beside her, reaching his arm around to take a spoonful into his mouth. Rose never took her eyes off of the cards she was dealt, but she wordlessly pushed the bowl closer to him so he could have as much as he wanted. Daryl mumbled a quiet "thank you."before taking another huge bite into his mouth, while Merle looked at them with a scrunched up face.

"Y'all make me sick." he said.

"Shut up." Daryl muttered as Rose peered over her cards to send him a glare.

He chuckled to himself before perking up a bit to watch the two closely. He didn't know if he liked the idea of his baby brother being in a relationship let alone watching it unfold in front of him. He thought relationships were a waste of time and always ended badly, at least they always did for him. But what Merle really couldn't wrap his head around, was how Daryl was able to get her in the first place.

He knew how awkward his brother was around women, so when he saw their interaction as they tearfully parted ways just days prior, he was truly shocked. Daryl was never good with women and had never really been in a serious relationship before, so Merle thought that they wouldn't last long at all.

But as he watched Daryl help her put her cards in place, seeing her laugh quietly about whatever he was whispering in her ear, a thought crossed his mind that maybe they would be okay.

"Put that one down." he muttered to her as he ate another bite.

She glanced at the card before raisin an eyebrow toward him, "Isn't this kind of cheating?" she asked.

"Nah." he shrugged, watching her place down the card anyway.

After a few more long rounds, Rose was finally successful as she had won a game all by herself and feeling quite proud about it too. The Dixon brothers were amused at how happy she was, clapping her hands excitedly with a wide smile on her face. And although Daryl would never admit it, he liked seeing his brother and his girl get along. He didn't want them to get too close however because he knew deep down that his brother wasn't the best person, but he still wanted them to get somewhat comfortable around one another considering the man was still his family.

Rose then got up from her seat after the last game came to an end, "Alright, I'm going to stretch my legs, do you know who's on watch?" she asked Daryl.

"Maggie took over for me, but I dunno if she's still out there." he informed.

She just nodded and headed out for some fresh air, practically skipping out of the prison to talk to Maggie about her fantastic win against Merle.

Daryl watched her walk all the way outside, before turning back to his brother and raised an eyebrow at him in suspicion, "Ya let her win." he said.

Merle only shrugged, "Don't know what you're talkin about."

His eyes narrowed for a moment as he saw right through his lie, but said nothing as he nodded in response, before dealing the cards again to play a round with him. Though he couldn't stop the knowing smirk from forming on his face as he thought about how his brother was becoming a little soft for the girl he loved so deeply.

Rose made her way outside and went up to where Maggie usually was when she kept watch but she scrunched up her face slightly when she wasn't there. Her eyes then panned around before her face fell slightly at the person she saw standing on the other side instead. It was Glenn, and by the looks of it he hadn't seen her walk out yet.

She didn't want to be in this constant fight with him anymore, but at the same time didn't know if he would be willing to talk to her, and she didn't want to get him all riled up again. She then just decided to look out at all of the walkers surrounding the fence, avoiding looking in his direction as she got some sunlight on her skin. This all felt so stupid, fighting constantly about pretty much nothing when the both of them knew they should be cherishing these moments instead.

Ever since the first few incidents with The Governor, the reality check being thrown in their faces, they shouldn't take anything for granted. Not anymore.

"Hey." his voice suddenly spoke from next to her, nearly restarting her heart.

She jumped slightly at his sudden presence as she didn't even hear him walk up to her, "Jesus...Christ." she enunciated as she held her chest, feeling her heart pound beneath her palm.

He laughed lightly, "I-...sorry." he spoke a bit sheepishly.

"It's okay." she reassured.

The two seemed to stand in awkward silence for a few long and lingering moments, before Glenn tried to keep the conversation going, "So...what are you doing out here?"

"Oh, I just...needed some fresh air. I felt like I was inside for too long..." she trailed off.

There was another silence and it was clear neither one of them knew what to say. Glenn for one wanted to apologize for being such a dick to her recently, he wanted to explain that it wasn't her, and it was just because he was angry about everything that had been happening around them. One thing on top of another. He truly missed her a lot, catching himself a number times the past couple of days trying to look for her to tell her something. But then remembering that they weren't really speaking.

Rose on the other hand, just wanted to talk to him like normal again, whether he apologized or not. She understood in the back of her mind why he had been acting this way, and it wasn't his fault. He had every right to be angry about the situation and what The Governor did to both him and Maggie. She just wanted her best friend back.

The two of them then both inhaled suddenly as if they were going to speak at the same time, laughing quietly to themselves as they seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Rose gestured to him, "You first."

His eyes softened as he glanced towards her, "Rose I...I just want to say I'm sorry. I've been such an asshole to you recently and you haven't even done anything wrong. I'm just- just so angry at like... everything. And I just want this to be over- The Governor I mean, and the things I've said to you recently...I didn't mean any of it. I'm just sorry. You think you could...forgive me?"

She didn't say anything as he finished speaking, only bringing him in for a tight hug almost instantly. He was shocked at first at the quickness of her actions, but then wrapped his arms around her with a growing smile on his face. A wave of relief washed over him, knowing she wasn't upset anymore and wanted to be done fighting just as much as he did.

"I'm sorry too." she spoke gently as she pulled away, "I'm pretty sure I've said some fucked up things to you too and you didn't deserve that. I just miss you."

"I miss you too." he expressed, "God, you have no idea how hard it was to not talk to you, I have so much to tell you." he said.

She laughed lightly at his excitement, "Well, tell me everything."

He smiled brightly, "Okay, okay, so there has been one good thing that's been happening in the midst of all this bullshit..." he stated before pausing for some dramatic effect, "...I'm going to ask Maggie to marry me."

Her eyes widened and a huge grin was plastered on her face, "Oh my God!" she pushed his shoulder lightly, "Oh, that's so great, I'm so happy for you!"

"Do you think she'll say yes?" he asked sheepishly.

She scoffed, "Are you kidding me, you guys are so in love it makes me want to vomit. And that's coming from me." she gestured.

He laughed at her words before reaching down and fishing through in his pocket for a moment or two, pulling out the ring he had seconds later to show her. She gazed down to look at it and her smile got even wider if that were possible, watching it glisten in the sunlight.

"Wow this is so crazy. You're proposing." Rose almost squealed.

"I know." Glenn squealed back and took her hands in his as they jumped up and down a few times from their excitement, laughing loudly together as they did so.

They then spent the next few hours together on watch, talking constantly the entire time. There was never a dull moment as they sat out there together, not once. Both of them felt utterly relieved to have each other again, especially when they didn't really know what the future looked like for them. The two hoped that everything would work out, but nothing is guaranteed these days. All they knew right now however, is that they had each other again.

~ Thanks for reading!

[glorious-spoon]

17. A kiss to distract, if it sparks ✨️

Thank you! I hope you like <3

-

"This is so stupid," Buck mutters, sounding more embarrassed than distressed. "I can walk back, Eddie, just let me—"

He breaks off with a pained noise a moment later. Eddie pauses with the first aid kit half open to give him a pointed look, and he sits back down. He's not quite pouting, but it's not far off from one, either. He's got his leg carefully propped up on the slightly mangled frame of his bike, though that's probably as much to keep from dripping blood onto his new joggers as any good practices about keeping sprains elevated.

The joggers are a loss anyway. Buck was going fast enough when he slid on that patch of gravel that it took a good ten feet for him to skid to a stop, and he was only on his bike for half of that.

"Or," Eddie says reasonably, "you could stay there while Chim brings the car around, let me put something on your road rash, and not walk two miles back on that ankle before we find out for sure if it's broken."

"It's not broken," Buck mumbles.

"You don't know that."

"I've broken a lot of bones. It's just a sprain."

"Okay, well, you still shouldn't be walking on it."

Buck lets out a deep, huffy sigh and subsides. Eddie unzips the first aid kit and pulls out sterile bandages, tape, and a tube of Neosporin. He's got his water bottle to rinse it out, and it doesn't look like there's any debris lodged in the wound. Just a raw, bloody strip from Buck's elbow to his wrist where he tried to catch himself when he went down.

He'll be fine. Eddie is still a little shaky with adrenaline from those ten seconds—maybe not even that—between Buck skidding to a stop with his bike half on top of him and Buck sitting up with a groan and a cranky, Aw, shit, come on, that was brand new. But Buck will be fine. Objectively, he knows this. His nerves are just taking a little while to catch up.

A woman on a bike comes to a stop next Buck as Eddie makes his way back over. She's older, flyaway gray hair under her helmet that she tucks back out of her face as she peers down at him with visible concern. "Are you okay, hon? Do you want me to call someone?"

"Oh, no, no thank you," Buck says, beaming up at Eddie as he approaches. "My boyfriend's actually a firefighter."

"You're a firefighter too," Eddie says, overwhelmed with fondness. To the woman, he adds, "Our friend is bringing the car around, but thank you."

"I know I'm a firefighter too," Buck says, as she pushes off and bikes away. "I just meant, you'll take care of me. You always do."

"I try to," Eddie says honestly. He crouches down next to Buck, setting his supplies on the curb, and reaches for his water bottle. "Here. Stretch your arm out so I can—perfect."

Buck's lips twitch a little at that, but he holds his arm steady so that Eddie can rinse out the wound and pat it dry. He holds still while Eddie applies Neosporin and bandages, and it's only after that's finished that he says, quietly, "Sorry."

"What for?"

"I scared you."

Eddie stills briefly. Buck noticed; of course he did. He's too observant not to realize that Eddie's heart froze in his chest when Buck went down, a surge of cold panic that seems deeply silly now. Then he sets the empty package in his hand aside and leans down to press a light kiss to the top of the bandage, the same way he used to when Chris was still young enough to put up with it. 

"Don't worry about it," he says. "It's not like you did it on purpose."

"Yeah, but I'm trying to do that less. Scaring you, I mean."

"I appreciate that, but it's not—" he shakes his head. The middle of a sunny bike path in downtown Los Angeles is probably not the place to get into this, honestly. Besides. They both know the history there, the context. "How's your ankle?"

Buck shrugs a little, leaning his shoulder against Eddie's. "It hurts. But I'll live."

"Sorry. Anything I can do?"

Buck laughs a little. "I don't know. You could distract me?"

"Distract you, huh?" Eddie turns toward him. Their faces are close enough that he barely has to lean in at all to brush his lips across Buck's. He feels Buck smile briefly before kissing him back. "Like that?"

"Yeah, that'll work," Buck whispers, and kisses him again. Then he lets his head tilt against Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie wraps an arm around him, and they stay like that until Chim pulls Eddie's truck up to the curb and taps the horn.

-

(for these kiss prompts)

[spaceisout]

𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 // 𝙠𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞

Pairing: Keigo Takami x F!Reader

Words: 2.221

Summary: being married young was never in either of your plans, more or less being married to a hero and a quirkless human. still, it made an interesting switch to your lives, one you might not regret.

Warning(s): angst, fluff,

A/n: I apologize for the delayed update, my week became a lot more busier than I had expected. Also taglist is available to anyone who would like to be updated. Any donations are appreciated it is a way I can help contribute to pay bills while I'm able to get a job &lt;3

Links: donate to the author, masterlist (coming soon), current series list

Taglist: @alligator-person @bakugosgirl01 @deathkat657 @justanerd1 @multilingual-birb @urdecentartist09 @abbylouamanda @keigo-hawks-takami-simp

(if there is anyone I missed on the list pls let me know, enjoy! <3)

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5 ◁ II ▷ 7

"Can you fly me around with your ice?!" a child exclaimed looking up at the bi-colored hero with excitement.

"Uum... ice is technically to hard to fly around with." He explained with crossed arms, "But I can transport you to places...almost like a car I guess?"

"Why the hell are we even here for?!" The blonde yelled looking annoyed with the amount of weird questions that he kept on getting.

"Come on, Kaachan." His friend calmly said, "You said you wanted to tag along too remember?"

"Y-yeah to teach them about being a hero," Kaachan explained. "N-not to deal with weird kids who won't even listen a word I f-"

"Language, Bakugo." Best Jeanist interrupted him. "Remember we are an example for these future heroes."

He looked away, grumbling under his breath.

"Then why is feathers, flirting with the teachers?" He questioned pointing at Hawks, "I thought we were supposed to talk with the kids!"

Best Jeanist followed his pointing finger and saw Hawks talking with you. He sighed, knowing this was going to happen eventually but thought it would take longer than five minutes.

"Make sure to keep an eye on the students." He said talking to Endeavor and walked over to your group.

"I gotta say I'm amazed at how high the kids spirits are." Keigo said looking at you. "Nowadays it is difficult to make sure they don't lose hope just because they're not like everyone else."

You knew he meant those words sincerely, especially since the cases of bullying have risen recently.

"I honestly at times can't protect them from feeling like an outsider in a world where they belong." You explained looking at them as they surrounded the dirty blonde with happiness. "I want to do all I can to make sure their confidence isn't broken when they go to junior high. They deserve to feel like heroes in their own lives whether they have quirks or not."

"Our colleagues and friends have focused on making sure their worth isn't justified by the family their born into or the quirk their relatives might have that they don't." Mio added, "We want them to live like the kids they are."

"Whether they decide to go into a field of public service or pursue a career of what they're passionate about we don't want them to forget their worth." Hizashi spoke up, "They're just as important as heroes."

Keigo saw the look of endearment and passion in your eyes. It was visibly shown to anyone who looked your way, how much you care about them. Now he understands why you stayed up most nights when he visited your family, you were preparing lesson plans even on your days off.

"Hawks!"

He jumped back in surprise seeing Best Jeanist standing in front of him. Keigo composed himself and gave him a dazzling smile making Mio swoon over him.

"Hey buddy! How are the kids treating you?"

"You are supposed to be with them as well, they've been asking about you." He said.

"I just came over here for a minute to talk with some of their teachers." Keigo explained, "Let me introduce you to Mio Takahashi, Rio Hizashi, and last but not least (first name) (last name)."

"It's very nice to meet you." Best Jeanist said shaking each of your hands.

"No, the pleasure is all ours." You said as Mio and Hizashi nodded. "I'm very happy to see everyone took some time to come and visit our students during their sports festival. We really appreciate it, it means a lot to them to see you guys."

"Hawks called us over as soon as he got the call from the principle." He explained, "We did not hesitate to agree, we wanted to come and meet them."

You knew he was such a humble hero but your respect for him went far above and beyond.

"Ah, Mr. Hawks! Mr. Best Jeanist!" The principle yelled out. "Our next event is about to start soon, we would love for you to participate with our students."

"Of course we would be honored to help out the little heroes!" Keigo exclaimed.

"Thank you!" She smiled, "The next event will be a tug of war between all classes. You can go ahead and choose a class as well as your students, we would love it if they joined in too."

"I'll go and let them know." Best Jeanist said.

"Do you mind if I tag along too?"

"Not at all."

It was plainly obvious that the principle had a crush on him, or really admired him.

"Mrs. Kimura is a big, fan huh?" Keigo said.

"That goes without saying." You chuckled lightly.

"Oh, (name) do you have the number tags?" Hizashi asked.

"Right, I forgot to bring them out." You sigh, "I'll go get them."

"Is it alright if I tag along?" Keigo asked looking at you sweetly.

"I can go-" Hizashi was about to say but you shook your head.

"It's alright. It shouldn't take me too long."

"I insist, plus I kinda wanna see the school from the inside too." Keigo insisted.

Looking in between them it was hard to choose, still Keigo decided to come and visit you at your work place.

"Okay," you said earning a smile from him. "You did take some time to come see the students so I'll give you a tour then."

"Awesome!"

You looked at Hizashi, "We'll be back in a bit."

He nodded and you two walked off by yourselves towards your classroom. As soon as you got some more distance and were sure there was no one else you spoke up.

"How come you did not tell me that you were coming?"

Keigo stopped, you mirrored his movement, to look at you.

"I wanted it to be a surprise." He explained, "I've seen the way you work yourself out for them." His hands rested on your shoulders, slowly they went down your arms, giving your body goosebumps, and stopped on both your wrists. "I wanted to meet the students that stole my wife's heart."

"I'm just- I'm still surprised that you're here, Keigo." You softly spoke, "It feels somewhat normal... like you came to visit on a random day..." There was a bit of hesitation on the last words you wanted to say to him.

A smile formed on his face as he used one of his hands to reach up and hold your cheek.

"Like a husband does?" He said, "Visiting his wife at her work place?"

Your lips parted, "Well-"

"I admit it I did not know if it was a good idea to come considering how things have been. But... when I heard it was the name of the same school you were working at I did not want to waste any time and automatically said yes without thinking."

Keigo was... interested in my school, because of me?

"I only heard a few stories about this place." He continued looking around at the colored walls that separates each classroom from the last. His eyes then landed on yours, his smile not faltering. "I wanted to visit the place that holds a special place in your heart... in hopes to learn more about you."

"K-keigo..."

With every person you had ever known, they never managed to make you feel like he does. Given that you have only known him for less than four months, it blows you away. Keigo was different, in your eyes.

"You have no idea how much it means to me that you're here." You confessed, "My parents are far too busy and far away to come see where I work. Himiko... well things are difficult with her at the moment. I wanted to share my everyday life with someone, to tell them about the shenanigans or activities my students did. Now that I got married to you and I have been able to tell you about it all , it's made my life a whole lot better than I ever realized."

Keigo's heart started to pick up a different type of rhythm.

"Keigo I-!" your eyes widened for a moment then they faltered, making his smile disappear.

"Tell me what you're thinking, (name)."

Biting your lip you tried to figure out if what you wanted to say would affect him in some way. Right now you felt blessed to have someone like him in your life. Keigo became another piece to your whole puzzle. A piece you weren't sure yet about how important his part has played a role.

"Whatever it might be," he gently tilted your head back to meet your eyes. "You can tell me."

Your eyes started to get covered with a transparent liquid, making it quite blurry to see.

"I did not realize how much you would change my life..." You blinked the tears letting them roll down your cheek but as always he was there to prevent them from hitting the ground. "I mean I know I-I sometimes over phrase everything and think it but don't say it. Up until now I watched the little things you have done for me even since before we ever got married."

As you spoke, our brain started to replay all those moments.

"You never hesitated to get closer to me even when I was too shy to speak. Anyone else would have given up but you didn't. I don't know if since then I felt safe to be with you but as time passes by and we spend time together... you're someone I do not ever want leaving my side."

"I'm starting to realize the same thing," On instinct he leaned his head down closer trying to close the gap between you both. "Everyday you are making me the happiest person than I ever was. You are molding me into someone better, and I want you to know that you are the reason because of this."

"Keigo..." you breathed out feeling tears slipping faster.

His eyes travelled down from your (color lips) lips to your eyes hoping to get a sign or a one word answer to his silent plea.

Little by little you felt yourselves gravitating to towards one another, closing the gap between you both. Your eyes not breaking away from one another. Slowly, leaning in giving the other enough time to pull away in case there was regret.

What seemed like inches away suddenly became just a centimeter between you both. Without any sign of hesitation, your lips finally met in the middle.

Eyes widening with surprise knowing well this was what you both wanted.

Keigo's eyes closed first as he started to lose himself in your lips. His hands holding both your cheeks, feeling him pulling you closer to him, wanting to get as close as possible.

Your body suddenly started to feel lighter. The weight you once felt on every limb suddenly disappeared. You were too shocked to close your eyes until you felt the way his lips moved in sync with your own.

Slowly they began to close, your hands moving to rest on each side of his waist. You started to sense the way your body was feeling against his.

As cliche as it sounds, it truly did feel like both your hearts were connected in that moment.

In his whole life he had vowed to never get romantically involved. All he wanted and focused on was protecting his mom from his villain father. He needed for her to feel safe in this world, without any fear of a villain attacking her.

But his view then changed once he met you. All of a sudden his world didn't seem so closed off. You became part of his life despite knowing everything about him, even then, you stayed. You opened up to him about things he never thought about.

And just like that, he grew accustomed to your routine of waking up, making breakfast, dinner, or waiting up for one another to make it back home safe and sound. It was a ritual, no, a rhythm he wanted to continue feeling for as long as you'd allow him to.

With flushed faces you both parted your lips, but your hold stayed still on one another.

"T-that... um." Keigo chuckled lightly suddenly feeling shy.

But you were in the same boat, "Y-yeah."

Both of you then erupted into soft laughter, you did not quite understood if it was the rush of how amazing it felt kissing one another or the fact that you were embarrassed to look at each other after such an intimate kiss.

Still, you looked at each other with happy filled dazed faces.

"(n-name)?"

The color drained from each other's faces as you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

"Did you just-" they shook their head not even wanting to finish the sentence. "You didn't really... kiss Hawks, right?..."

Keigo held your hand tightly, intertwining his fingers with your own in a protective gesture.

"Mio..." Your close friend wasn't alone, "Hizashi..."

"What is going on?..." Hizashi questioned not bothering to look at Keigo.

"Listen... I swear that there's a good reason-"

"What reason is there for him to kiss you like that?!" He yelled.

Keigo stepped forward, "Let's not start yelling okay? We can talk it out like the adults we are-"

"I wasn't talking to you." Hizashi retorted, "For all I know you're just using her."

"Hizashi, Mio..." You sighed looking at them both. "I'm sorry I did not tell you the truth... but the person I married his Hawks."

"What?..."

"B-but you said he was a regular person!" Mio exclaimed.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you... I had to make up a fake husband in order to keep my real marriage a secret." You explained, "I had no other choice... we did not want to risk anything bad happening."

"Like what?" Mio asked not fully understanding anything that's going on. "What bad thing could possibly happen?"

"Listen, there's still some villains who are trying to settle the score with me." Keigo said, "The battle may be over but there's no telling when they might attack. I did not want to put (name) in harm's way."

"The why did you even ask her to marry you if this marriage was going to be a secret?"

"He didn't ask me to marry him." You said, "I was the one who asked him in exchange for a favor he was doing for my parents."

"You-"

"There you guys are!" The principle smiled as she approached you, "Miss (Last Name) did you find those number tags that we need?"

"Y-yeah! I apologize I got side tracked with showing Hawks around the school." You awkwardly chuckled.

"No worries, I understand. But please make sure to hurry the parents have been waiting along with the heroes."

"I will!" You exclaimed trying to smile as she looked at you before walking away. Once she was gone you turned to look at both your friends. "I know there's a lot of questions you both must have and I want to answer them."

"(name)'s right, you both are close to her and deserve to know the truth." Keigo said, "Why don't you two come by our house after the event is over with? We can explain it there more calmly."

Hizashi looked at Mio, and she looked back at him. There was uncertainty in each other's eyes, not knowing if there was any explanation to this situation.

"Okay." Mio said, "We'll come by after school after all this event is for the students and I don't want to ruin it for them."

Hizashi agree. "She's right, it is best if we talk somewhere private."

You nodded feeling a small relief that they'd be willing to hear you out. "Thank you."

"Alright is everyone ready?!" You spoke into the microphone, looking out at the scene in front of you.

"We're not losing!" Bakugo yelled feeling determined to win. "You guys better be pulling your weight too!"

"We are not about to let them win!" Sato exclaimed, "We're going to easily win this round."

"That's what I'm talking about!"

Midoriya started to feel a bit nervous now, "He sure does know how to get them excited it seems."

"Mr. Deku?" Suzuki spoke tugging at his sleeve. "Do you... think we're going to win?..."

Midoriya smiled, "Well they're good opponents I won't lie, but that doesn't mean we're going to lose without a fight right?"

"R-right!"

"On my mark," you said. "Ready?... Pull!"

"Start pulling!" Bakugo yelled.

"We can do this!" Midoriya retorted looking straight ahead as he pulled with all the strength he had.

"You're going down nerd!" He smirked gritting his teeth as he tugged at the long rope.

"I gotta say, they're an interesting group." You chuckled.

"I apologize for his sudden outbursts," Best Jeanist spoke. "He's a very explosive hero."

You shook your head, "Not at all. I understand, it's passion. If I had a quirk as well I'd probably be the same way as him."

"Does the principle not hire anyone who has a quirk?"

"Initially that was her plan but lately since more and more people are being born with quirks they usually take the route of becoming a hero." You explained, "These students might be the last ones to come here."

"What do you mean?"

Turning to look at him you continued, "A lot of more schools are being built and are being equipped with qualified teachers to help control their quirks. This school was built for people like us. We're normal teachers, so it won't be so surprising if they decide to tear this school down in the future."

"But there's still students who need teachers like you to guide them into the right path, whether they have a quirk or not."

A small smile formed on your lips, "I still have the thought o continuing to teach even if this school won't be here anymore. But it's hard to find a way to land a job at times."

"I promise we're going to try and figure something out." He said resting his hand on your shoulder. "This school has a great group of teachers, that need to continuing teaching."

"Thank you, Best Jeanist." You said, "It means a lot to have a heroes support for us regular folks."

"Hey!"

You jumped back in surprise.

Bakugo yelled looking a you, "Aren't you going to announce the winner?!"

"R-right, sorry about that!" You yelled back and picked up the microphone. "The winner is team Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!"

Best Jeanist even clapped for him, making him smile wider in victory. The students then surrounded him, Sato ended up being carried and placed on his shoulder for the photo.

"Sorry, we couldn't win." Midoriya apologized.

You spoke walking over to them, "Don't. Everyone put in their effort and I can tell they had fun."

"Miss (last name)!" Suzuki yelled, as he rushed over to hug you.

"You guys did a great job." You wrapped your arm him, smiling softly. "I saw how strong you were pulling, Suzuki."

He shyly smiled, "I-I was able to do it... b-because of Mr. Deku's help. H-he helped me, by encouraging me."

"Thank you for lifting up his spirits. Suzuki tends to be a bit shy sometimes." You said looking at him, "I'm happy he got the chance to be on your team."

"Oh it was nothing." Midoriya smiled with a tilted head. "I'm happy they had fun even though we did not get to win."

"You were amazing!" Suzuki yelled pulling away from you and hugging him instead. "You're an amazing hero, Mr. Deku."

Midoriya's eyes lit up, his hold then tightened as he held Suzuki in his arms.

You decided to walk over to the rest of your students to congratulate them as well.

"Miss (last name)! Did you see me?!" Sato exclaimed. "Did you see how much I was pulling the rope?!"

"I did!" Crouching down in front of her you continued, "You guys did a great job pulling on that rope."

"It was all because I told them how to properly pull." Bakugo spoke with crossed arms in front of his chest.

"He did! Did you know it's best to lean back and plant your feet on the ground?!" She yelled with amazement. "It worked so cool!"

"I did not know that." You looked up at him, "You're quite an impressive hero Mr. Great Murder Explosion God Dynamight."

Bakugo's cheeks turned a light red, "O-of course I am!"

As the events progressed from last rounds of tug of war to the bigger obstacle course between heroes, your mind got distracted.

There was an anxious feeling in your chest, as the sports festival was starting to come to a close. You kept thinking about how your two close friend's would react to knowing the truth about it all.

All you could do was pray and hope that they would stay by your side to support you.

"Everything okay?" Keigo asked as he helped fold up the tables.

"Y-yeah..."

He placed the last table down next to the wall, "(name), I can tell something is on your mind."

"I'm just a bit worried about talking with them is all."

"Hey, everything is going to be fine." Keigo softly, reaching over to your hand to hold it for a second before pulling away. "They're your close friends, they care about you. So I'm sure they'll understand."

You nodded, "You're right... Hizashi and Mio will understand."

Keigo gave you a soft smile and looked both ways before he leaned down and pecked your lips.

"Keigo... s-someome could see us."

"Why do you think I did it quickly?" He teased, making you chuckle.

"Mr. Hawks!" You both looked to the side to see some of your students rushing over to him.

"Hey! What are you kiddos still doing here?"

"You're going to come back and visit right?!" Your youngest Sakura asked.

"Yeah you have to!" Hinata yelled, "You need to come back and see us!"

"Well I certainly hope so." Keigo answered ruffling his hair, "I would love to come back and visit you guys."

"Next time you'll take us somewhere to fly right?" Seiyo asked.

"Guys," you interrupted. "He may have a lot of feathers but he doesn't have enough to take you. He's a hero after all, he's going to them too."

"Awe!" Hinata whined, "Then can you make sure to tell him to come again next week, Miss (last name)?!"

"Yeah, will you ever invite me again Miss (last name)?" Keigo tagged along and even made puppy dog eyes.

He did look quite adorable.

"If it was for me I'd be happy to bring him back again to visit but it isn't up to me." You said, hearing their disappointment sighs. "But I will try and ask the principle."

"Yay!" Your students yelled.

"Now it's time to go home, okay?" You said seeing their parents waiting by the gate. "Your parents are waiting for you guys."

They nodded and bid Keigo goodbye, a smile rested on his face as he watched your students running, enjoying themselves without worry.

"They're an interesting group of kids," he said and turned to look at you. "They're going to go far someday."

"I hope I can continue to lead them down the right path."

"You will, they are lucky to have a teacher like you. I wished I had one exactly like you when I was a kid."

"Well if you ever need a teacher, I'm here." you chuckled lightly.

Keigo pulled you into a tight hug, not caring about anyone seeing you two. All he wanted was to hold you close and you weren't going to deny that a hug from him is what you needed the most.

[xaviermattthews]

With headlights visible in the distance, X looks like a deer caught in them for a split second. It could have been any car, but what if it wasn't -- what if it was the exact one he was waiting to pull up.

Right on time, right when he needed her to.

( Vanessa Gable had a real knack for that, it made for an easy decision when it came to what he was intending to do. )

It's a flash of red and a sprint in what he knows was heels from watching her get ready for her dinner hours earlier that confirms what he would have known blindfolded and with no hints.

There she was, the best choice he's ever made in a life stacked with plenty of good and bad ones, shoes in hand and not a single care about it.

Running to him is a good sign rather than the alternative and he would take bare feet in the sand over cold feet at what she had to know this was all for any day. Dayne starts plucking guitar strings as Van tugs on X's heartstrings, the melody no stranger to any of them and sounding all too right as it's heard again on the same beach where she had first showed him that very same song she had written for him.

The demo version would always be his favorite, nothing but her vocals and a confirmation of truths he had waited years to hear, but Dayne's take was gunning for a close second as Van rewrites her own lyrics right before him with a statement that has him grinning despite his own nerves.

"You always wanna kiss me, that ain't nothing new."

The threat of a premature answer hushes the small but present part of himself that had him concerned that maybe this sure thing of his might not be quite so sure, that the things he had put her through over the years and all the ways he had broken both their hearts might have crept to the forefront, a nasty past ready and waiting to usurp what he knows will be a good future.

There's none of that as he looks at her and reaches into the pocket of his jacket for the ring box, there's just that face of hers and how the mere sight of it made everything else fall away.

"Ah-ah, you have to let me do it, won't count if you don't and I'm only doing this once, baby."

He means that wholeheartedly, no matter what was in store for them, he would never drop to one knee like he did then in the sand under the setting sun and look up at another person with the same kind of adoration in his eyes as he did then.

Her or nothing -- that's all there was to it.

"Vanessa Gable, for the longest time, as long as I can remember really I've had this idea of myself and who I am and what I am. That I was put here for some higher purpose and that must make me above it all, including falling in love. Then along you came with that Louisiana accent in that ridiculous blonde wig and you knocked me on my ass. Right back to earth with all the rest of them pesky mere mortals, like the first dose of reality I'd had in who knows how long and God, do I love living in reality with you."

They both knew from experience how easy it was to be swept up in the lifestyle they lived, with every detriment that fame brought along with it. He had fallen to both knees for some of those vices more times than he could count, but the only reason he was there on one knee with breath in his lungs still was down to the woman in front of him.

"I knew the first time I saw you that you were going to change my life. I knew after the first time we spoke that if I kept speaking to you, I was going to fall in love with you. I knew that would hurt and I didn't care because it would hurt more to know of you and not know you. And I know you, darlin'. Everything there is to know, and I love all of you. Everything you are, everything you have been and everything I know you will be."

His hands feel as unsteady as they had at his father's funeral as he opens the ring box and reveals the ring he had deliberated on for over a year in his search for perfection. It's a similar shake that had caused her to take the eulogy he had written from them and deliver it for him, but he wouldn't let that happen there.

She had them then, he had them now.

"I'm so fucking in love with you and I tried real hard not to curse in this and I just failed at it but I won't fail at making you happy every day for as long as you'll have me. Because you're the only one who could have me and the way you love me is the way I want to be loved for the rest of my life."

He can just about hear Dayne's playing over the sound of his own heart beat as he finally makes her lyric about getting married in their heads something more than a shared ache.

"Will you do me the kind of honor I'll spend every second of the rest of forever making sure I'm worthy of and marry me?"

@vanessagable

As much as Van had been trying to enjoy her night out for dinner and drinks with her former sister-in-law (and she had been really trying, and making a good effort at seeming carefree), she'd been itching to check her phone every five minutes like some toddler that was being deprived of their iPad time.

She knew she shouldn't worry about him -- she knew that he could survive a night on his own without her, especially if Gideon was coming over to hang out -- it was just that she hadn't fully gotten over her guilt that she hadn't been home when he'd found out about his dad.

And now her worst fear was coming back home and seeing that broken look on his face ever again.

Not to mention that Lorelai was being more -- what was a kind word for it? -- micro-managy than usual as they had sat through dinner and drinks. (Getting their check had also seemed extremely urgent?)

Van hadn't dwelled on it much until Lor had driven past the driveway to her and X's house -- leading them further down the beach and parking alongside of the road without any explanation. She's about to question out loud if they're having car trouble or if she's being kidnapped -- and then she looks out the window.

The sun is hanging low over the beach -- perfectly lighting a floral heart, flickering candles, and the familiar shape of the love of her life standing in the middle.

"Oh, fuck."

For the first time in the evening, her phone is completely forgotten along with her purse as she scrambles to open the passenger door and jumps out without closing it behind her.

She's only a couple of feet into the sand before she's cursing the heels she'd worn -- bending down enough to urgently free herself from the straps and the shoes altogether so she can make better time as she sprints down the beach towards him with the hem of her dress in one hand to keep it from getting tangled between her legs.

Van only slows just short of the tableau -- out of breath and taking the moment in before locking eyes with Xavier.

"God, I wanna kiss you so fucking bad right now," she tells him through a ragged breath before she points a half-accusing finger at him.

"But I've never known you to not have anything to say so you'd better get to talking, cowboy, because I'm ready with my answer."

@xaviermattthews

[leyyvi]

omg can you please expand more on the actor!levi with maybe y/n becoming like his fake partner or something, it would be very appreciated

YES BECAUSE I had fake dating trope on my mind while writing the other thing cnfbdbd

part one sorta?

--

So maybe it's kind of an unorthodox plan, pretending to date. But, with how much you and Levi have started to hang out--someone is bound to assume you're dating anyway, right?

You two are friends, nothing more than that. You're not looking for a relationship, and Levi doesn't have the time. It works out perfectly. And even though more questions are raised in the interviews, tweets being sent to him, and comments on his barely used Instagram, he simply uses the disclaimer, "She doesn't want her identity disclosed too much."

You were smart enough to private all of your social media, leaving little to no room for any investigations from those celebrity gossip outlets. There is one time though, where you two meet up for a quick lunch on your break. Levi arrived early at the small café you mentioned you wanted to try a while back. He sat in the outdoor patio for a good while waiting. Ten, twenty minutes pass and he wonders if you've bailed. If you decided the celebrity nonsense is too much to handle.

Til he hears a commotion at the entrance. That's when he finds a crowd of paparazzi nearly blocking the door, prohibiting you from stepping inside. Even with the baseball cap and sunglasses, they still recognized you and immediately took the opportunity to bombard you with questions.

Anger flares in Levi. Before he knows it he's shoving cameras out of your face, yelling in every direction about 'giving some fucking privacy' as his arm protectively wraps around your shoulder. A couple of people are knocked down, cameras broken, even more shouting. He leads you away to his car, gripping the shoulder that shakes under his fingertips.

It's not often you get scared of much, but you're visibly shaken up. "I'm sorry," he murmurs when he steps into the car. Hell drive to secluded place for now, and come back for your car later. "I'm so sorry I didn't think they'd ..."

A foolish hope for him, something only a naive child would've assumed. Someone who has little to no actual dating experience. He truly was an idiot for thinking these kinds of people would leave you alone. You're still silent, sitting in the passenger seat with your hands tugging at your pants gently. Your lanyard jingles with the car movements, the only response Levi recieves to his awkward apologies.

"You've never yelled in public like that," you murmur quietly from his right. "Your image might get ruined if you lash out."

You've seen him lose his temper before, whether it was over something Farlan teased him about, or the struggle to get his teams shit together during sports games. But he's never yelled and pushed people around, no matter how close the cameras came. It was easy for him to slip away.

But with you? His footsteps carried him faster than he could rationalize. And seeing your wide eyes through the oversized sunglasses, hearing the frightened stammers under the shouting of those people. It stirred something deep within his soul to...

Protect you.

Once he finds a mostly empty lot to park in, he speaks up again. "Fuck my image, couldn't give a shit of what those people think of me. What matters is your safety."

A choked laugh falls from your throat. "Levi, we're not actually dating. You don't have to pull the protective boyfriend act on me."

Oh. You're crying.

Levi's hands fall from from the steering wheel onto his lap. "I--so what? I can still care about your well being. I always have--"

He freezes up at the spill. You blink over at him, widened eyes in disbelief at what you might've heard.

"We've... we've always been friends so..." Levi tries to backtrack, instead focusing on thumbing away at a couple tears in the middle of your cheek. The engine of his car fills the silence between your stifled sniffles.

"In all the years we've been friends, I don't think I've ever heard you say that."

"Doesn't mean I don't think it." He tilts his head when you shift to face him, already feeling the warmth edging back into your next words.

"Maybe you should think out loud more," you suggest, "So your 'beloved' knows how you feel." The nickname holds a hint of sarcasm, but something else leaks into your voice too. Something he can't quite place. You bite your lip as you smile, and Levi's stomach flips thrice before his palm cups your entire cheek.

Instinct again. That happens a lot around you. His body moves, reacts before he can think properly. Your smile hardly lingers on your lightly sheened lips. Chapstick? Lip gloss? Or just the nervous flick of your tongue across them? He doesn't know, but he's staring for way too damn long.

You clear your throat, turning away slightly. His hand falls into the center console this time. His chest pounds at a million miles per hour. Maybe he should dial 911 in case he goes into cardiac arrest--

"Well, um. Either way, thanks for saving my ass. Sorry if the headlines reduce your noble act into some violent outburst."

"Don't be sorry about it, I'm not." Levi stares out at the passing traffic, then at the group of high school kids with oversized backpacks running about the parking lot. Horns blare periodically, playful shouting echoes down the street.

"Then I won't be either," you mutter as your palm caresses the top of his hand. He glances at it out of the corner of his eye, not daring to look directly at you. But you keep your eyes glued forward too.

Are you feeling as hot as he is right now? Are your cheeks burning the same as his? Are you desperately trying to keep your voice even when you speak like him? The tightening of your fingers around him give Levi hope that maybe you are, too.

[9tzuyu]

four months.

note: hiiiii! just trying to get into the groove again. i dont know what this is. the original prompt is below, however it did not turn out that way?¿ its kind of a mess, but fluffy i suppose. i hope you enjoy :>.

using my own experience so don’t think i hate poor people because i am those people </3

(also chapter 4 of children of tragedy will be out soon, i promise. ive just had awful writers block.)

+ thank you moli for proofreading so i dont have to. i love you.

warnings: none?

prompt: * reader used to be poor and stuff and w/n is like “you know you don’t have to get the cheapest things” and R covers it up and says “oh this is the brand i like, but w/n discovers hidden receipts and asks why they have a bunch of useless receipt and R is like “i was just tracking how much we spend....”

🏷 @natasha-danvers @midnight-lestrange @whatiziz @kermy48 @mycosmicparadise @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (lmk if you want off the tag list because ik i dont post as regularly as other writers, so im just going with people who have told me they want to be on my tag list in the past)

and lastly, for my baby @nermalina. its not really your genre per se [ i have a smut fic that i’ll dt you on ;)] however, accept this as a form of love.

it wasn’t so much that you were homeless and out on the streets, but you weren’t necessarily well off either. working as a waitress only got you far enough to pay your monthly rent and gas. somehow you managed to squeeze in a list of groceries.

every penny counted, you didn’t have room for mishaps or sick days. thats why you kept your budget small and a stash full of receipts on the kitchen bar.

natasha didn’t know about any of this though. you were sure she’d have you by the neck if she found out how long you’d been keeping your secret.

the redhead was generous, and no matter how many times you offered to pay for something she would never even dream of letting you. natasha insisted on it, and you were powerless to stop her.

it wasn’t until you tagged along with her on a trip to the grocery store when things began to unravel. she only needed a few things, nothing important.

but nat was quick to pick up on the fact that you continuously flipped every little thing you picked up to look at the price tag.

“here, it’s the cheapest one i could find.” you said, smiling as you handed her a cardboard box of pasta. natasha hummed, “you know you don’t have to get me the cheapest thing on the shelf.”

you bit your lip, eyes suddenly looking back at the shelf of different pasta boxes. “i know... it’s just- it’s my favorite brand.” natasha automatically knew you were lying by the way you began chewing on the inside of your lip.

she narrowed her eyes. “no it’s not.”

“huh?”

“you got this brand because it was the cheapest. you know i can afford more, which leads me to believe you do this out of habit.”

you shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze. “no, i just really like that brand.”

the sudden realization that she had never been to your place struck her.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“why don’t we go back to your apartment after this? we can just relax, watch a movie, do whatever you want.”

a mix of guilt and shame flooded your body. but damned if you didn’t still give it a try.

“my apartment’s a mess right now, you don’t want to see that.” you tried, offering a small, dry laugh in hopes of getting her off your back.

“you’re a terrible liar.”

“i’m not-”

“i picked you up from the park today, just like every other day. i’ve not once picked you up from your own apartment, so what are you hiding?”

when you didn’t give an answer, she tossed the cheapest box of pasta in her cart and walked away. you groaned as you watched natasha leave before catching up to her.

“okay, okay, we can go back to my apartment. just don’t judge me, alright?”

she smiled softly, “it wouldn’t even cross my mind.”

soon enough you began helping your girlfriend load her car with bags full of miscellaneous items. nothing needed to be refrigerated, so if natasha wanted to, she could stay at your apartment all day.

your leg bounced in the car as you gave her directions. but soon enough, after what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, natasha pulled into a parking space right outside your door.

you silently cursed yourself for not renting a spot upstairs. at least then it would’ve prolonged the situation just a little bit longer.

natasha watched as you fumbled with your keys, your hands visibly shaking.

“fuck.” you mumbled after hearing the clank of metal hit the ground. you bent down to pick them up but natasha beat you to it.

“which key?” her voice was soft.

“the yellow one.”

the door swung open and you motioned for natasha to go before you.

it wasn’t bad, really. apart from the chipped brown walls, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke (you hated your neighbors for that), the broken windows, lack of space and furniture that was as good as the floor.

natasha noticed the windows first, a sense of protectiveness overpowering her. she didn’t like that you weren’t safe.

you went to offer her a water bottle, but she wasn’t paying attention. instead, she noticed the lack of food in your fridge, frowning when you tried to cover it up.

another few minutes of her silence went by and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“look, i know you’re rich. i know you like to have luxury brands and that you don’t have to worry about whether or not someone will break in and steal what little you have left. but that doesn’t give you any right to judge me. i’m sorry i don’t live up to your expectations.”

natasha licked her lips and leaned her back against the kitchen counter.

“how long have you lived like this?”

her question caught you off guard, but you managed to find an answer.

“i’ve always lived like this, nat.”

she nodded solemnly before abruptly turning around to look at what was inside your cabinets.

“what are you do-”

“you have no food.”

you sighed, “well yeah, i can’t really afford it.”

“and the receipts?”

natasha was met with a shrug. “have to keep track of everything somehow.”

she stared at you a minute longer before finding the exact words she wanted to say.

“i would never judge you, or anyone for that matter, on their living situation. i know people don’t always have a say in what or why things happen.” she paused. “but i don’t like knowing you go to sleep every night with broken windows practically inviting anyone to come in and intrude. i don’t like knowing all you have to eat is bread, canned fruit and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

you listened to her ramble on, still nervous about the fact that this was new to her.

“so come live with me.”

“natasha-”

“come live with me.”

you immediately shook your head. “no, no, no. nat don’t even-”

“i’m serious. you won't win this argument, y/n. let me take care of you. i don't mind picking you up and dragging you out of here myself if that’s what it takes.”

a sigh left your lips as you folded your arms across your chest. “natasha, i can’t have you do that. i’m okay, i promise.”

the redhead raised her eyebrow. “how many times have you gone to bed hungry? or let your car run on fumes for as long as you could? and how many times have you gone to work sick because you can’t afford to miss one single day?”

when natasha was met with no reply she moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you into her embrace.

“i know it’s only been four months but i don’t think i could ever forgive myself if something happened to you and i didn’t do enough to stop it.”

she kissed the side of your head, “let me take care of you.”

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •2•

Hi hi! I'm back with another chapter. This one might not be as good(?, it's a really fluffy chapter so bear with me.

warnings: sugar daddy jae, he's a big baby, tooth rotting, kinda long.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato

“Sir, there’s a girl asking to see you.”

“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.

“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.

“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.

“Let her in.”

Only a few seconds later, your head was peeking through his door.

“I brought you coffee.” You extended your hand out, showing him the carton containing two iced drinks. “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, come in.” You sat on the elegant, individual sofa in front of him, his desk serving as a separation. “Are you here to spy on me? Don't you trust me with your father's case?” He pouted, typing something in his keyboard while your palms started sweating.

How could you not trust the man with the highest case winning index in the whole country?

Briefly, after your encounter with the other lawyer, you'd googled him as well as his company. Because of his incredibly high fees, he didn't have many clients, but those few who had enough money to cost him were almost assured to be on the winning side. So then, why hadn't an excellent lawyer like him popped up when you'd first looked for popular firms? Simple, he wasn't popular.

Just like a hidden gem, only a few had the pleasure to know Yoonoh, and you felt beyond grateful for paying that stupid membership weeks ago.

“No, no!” You were quick to defend yourself, frantically shaking your hands to support your previous statement. “Just wanted to be of help.”

Truth to be told, after receiving your first weekly allowance, an unsettling feeling had been squeezing your heart ever since. Call it guilt or whatever, but it didn't set right to be receiving si much help from him when you hadn't had the chance to do anything in return. The least you could do was trying to be polite.

“You shouldn't be spending your money on me. I'm the one supposed to spoil you, remember?” He grabbed the plastic container by the lid, sipping the bitter liquid with an amused smile. “But thank you.”

“I paid my rent yesterday.” You blurted out, trying to avoid the uncomfortable silence threatening to settle between the two of you. “And I still have money left to save for my father's hospital bills, maybe even buy a present for my aunt.”

He admired how noble you were, making sure those around you had enough before even thinking to do something for yourself.

“I have a party this Friday, would you like to attend with me?” Your presence wasn't required as it wasn't a big event, but by the look in your eyes, he knew you were itching to do something in return for his kindness.

“Yes, of course!” Your orbs sparkled with excitement, finally feeling yourself useful.

“If you don't mind waiting, we can go buy something for you to wear right after I finish with this.” For what seemed like the tenth time in less than ten minutes, small beads of sweat rolled down the back of your neck. Thank God he wasn't able to see them. “Oh, come on, don't give me that look!”

“You’ve already done so much for me. I can buy the clothes myself, don't worry.” With a deep sigh, Yoonoh rose from his chair, taking long strides to surround the desk separating you. “W-what are you doing?” Now kneeling on the floor beneath you, his face was dangerously close to yours, coffee breath crashing against your nose.

“Using mind control to convince you to let me take you out.” He stared at you for a couple more seconds before saying: “Is it working?”

“I think your mind control is broken.” You whisper, unable to hold back the small giggles bubbling at the back of your throat.

“How about now?” He batted his eyelashes, trying to act cute despite his bold features. You shook your head.

Just as you thought it was over, his hand went up to cup your jaw, his thumb drawing uneven figures on the ticklish skin.

“How about now?” He repeated. You stammered, unsure of what to say. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” Aware of your awkwardness and the rising heat in your cheeks, he stood up, walking back to his chair. “But I do want to get you something, would you let me?”

With your mind busy and your guard low, you nodded, unaware of the silly smile on his face.

“I have a few novels on my shelf in case you want something to kill time.”

“Thank you.” You moved to the huge bookshelf facing his desk, grateful your face wasn't visible anymore.

The books were ordered by genre and size, starting from the biggest law-related textbooks to pocket-sized novels, ending with the smallest one he had. The little prince.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Yoonoh didn't seem to be the type to read that kind of heartbreaking yet beautiful book. Nonetheless, as many said, you can't judge a book by its cover.

An hour or two later, you were halfway into the first book of flowers in the attic, immersed in the small world the author had created. Yoonoh had finished his work a few minutes before, but distracting you when you were reading so vividly, seemed like a crime. He enjoyed the way your eyebrows would knit together every time something shocking happened, clearly too immersed in the novel to notice his intense gaze.

“Y/n...” He whispered once he noticed you were starting a new chapter. You blinked twice, hands clutching the book tightly as you noticed he had finished his work. “You can take it home, don't worry.”

“Sure?” He flashed his pretty dimples as his eyes turned into half-moons.

“You can come back for the rest of the saga when you finish this one. Take as many books as you please, I’ve already read them all.”

“Thank you.” Another act of kindness you had no way of returning. His favors just seemed to be piling up before you could even return any. “Would you like to have dinner with me today? I'm a great cook, or so did my father said.” You blurted out quickly, twisting your hands nervously as you waited for an answer.

“I’d love to. But I might have to attend some work calls if you don't mind.”

“I don't, maybe I'll even have time to bake a cake while you're at it.” God, how bad he wanted to take a picture of that adorably nervous smile.

“Great, so it's settled. Dinner at your place after we go shopping.” He had already put his blazer on, offering his arm to guide you out. With shaky fingers and sweaty armpits, you grabbed it, walking by his side with his secretary’s gazed glued on you. So much for a girl, huh?

Once seated in his car, with the book resting on your lap, you allowed yourself to relax. Yoonoh wasn't a bad person, on the contrary, he was very kind, so there was no use in keeping your guard up when he was around.

“Ready to roll?” You cringed at his use of slang, making him drop his head back to laugh. “What? Isn't it a thing you cool young adults say?”

“Maybe twenty years ago, Yoonoh.” It was the very first time you used his name so informally, and, oh how good it felt to hear you saying it?

“Fine, I won't use it anymore.” He poked your arm like a little child, and for a moment, you wondered if he was actually more than a decade older.

Several bad jokes, two dresses, and a quick stop at the grocery store later, you arrived at your apartment. Yoonoh held everything while you entered the passcode, struggling not to drop a can of vegetables that was starting to bend the edge of the paper bag.

“Ready, hand me something.” You both entered with your hands packed with different things. You went to your room to leave the new dresses while Yoonoh set the paper bags down on the kitchen counter.

“So...” He clapped loudly. “What are we cooking?”

“I bought the ingredients for lasagna. Is that okay with you?” He nodded, lips pressed and dimples in display. “Alright, let's do this.”

It would've been of great help if Yoonoh had told you he didn't know how to cook. But of course, part of the fault was yours for not noticing when he tried to add ketchup to the recipe.

“I burnt it.” He looked at the semi-carbonized pasta with disgust, feeling ashamed of having ruined your dish. “Let’s just throw it away and order something.” He was about to touch the hot container until your grip on his wrist halted his movements.

“We just pulled it out of the oven.” You shook your head in disbelief at the man standing in front of you.

“Sorry.”

Despite Yoonoh’s endless complaining, you ate the lasagna. The flavor wasn't that bad when you scratched off the burnt parts, especially when accompanied by a cold glass of wine.

“It’s not that bad.” You repeated over and over again. A phone call interrupted him from self-pitying any further. “Go on, take it.” You continued eating while he spoke in the living room.

It wasn't until a couple of minutes later that you realized he was whisper yelling at whoever was on the other line. It was your first time seeing him angry, and you didn't like it one bit. The way his face turned completely stoic, his eyes cold as his hand rested on his hip. Sweet, caring, Yoonoh was gone.

“I told you I needed it for today.” He said through gritted teeth. “You better get it before I arrive back at the office, or you can find yourself another job.” Even after he hung up, Yoonoh stood in the middle of the shared area, clutching his phone so tightly, it seemed like it would break any minute.

You wanted to ask if everything was alright, if he needed any help, but most importantly, if the things he needed were related to your father's case, but all the words stuck to your throat like insects in a spider web.

“I need to go.” He simply said, not even bothering to fake a smile. “Thank you for dinner, I'll see you on Friday.” With his free hand, he grabbed the coat hanging from his chair and left, slamming the door on his way out.

Was that the real Yoonoh?

A shiver ran down your spine. What had you gotten into? From what you'd seen, it was only about time he would show his true self to you as well.

All the trust you'd built up during the day, had crumbled down in a matter of seconds. The worst part? You didn't even feel entitled to be scared, not after all he'd done for you.

‘Just keep your distance.’ You repeated like a mantra as you got ready for bed, leaving the book you'd borrowed right where he'd left it, afraid it would burn your fingertips even with the slightest touch.

(...)

The week wasn't nearly as long as you'd wanted it to be, and soon enough, you were struggling to zip the dress you'd bought days ago. Your makeup was done, and Yoonoh had texted you he was on his way, yet, you'd been fighting with the zipper for at least ten minutes. Your fingers were cramping, and the clock was ticking.

Just when you'd finally started to drag the small piece of metal, the doorbell startled you, causing you to let go of it.

“Fuck!” Have you ever felt so desperate that tears start pricking your eyes? Well, that was the exact case happening at the moment.

You opened the door with the salty water collecting at the corner of your eyes, surprising Yoonoh, who was wearing his best dimply smile.

“What’s wrong?” He had a bouquet poorly hidden behind his back, probably to apologize for the night he abruptly left and almost knocked down your door.

“I-I can't zip up my dress.” Your voice came out shaky, giving away the emotions burning your gut. Thankfully, Yoonoh didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't mention it.

“I’ll help you.” He, not-so-discretely, put down the bouquet, gently turning you around to your discomfort. His cold hands touched your back as he dragged the zip up, noticing how tense you were but deciding not to comment on it. “Oh! You haven't moved the book from where I left it.”

“I haven't had time to read.” He hummed, crouching to reach for the bouquet and hand it to you. “Thank you.”

“It’s my way of apologizing for the fit I threw a couple of days ago.” A fit? That was one way to call it.

“It’s okay.” You lied as you pushed the corners of your lips to form a credible smile. “Let’s get going.”

The flowers were left on the kitchen counter before you left. The ride in the elevator was awfully quiet, and Yoonoh had no idea what had happened. You were so chatty the last time he saw you, so of course, he was taken aback by the sudden change.

“It’s not going to take long, so we can head out for some drinks later if you'd like...” You nodded, for you knew speaking would only expose your discomfort. “Is everything alright?��

“Yeah! Just nervous about the party, that's all.”

You stood by Yoonoh’s side for the rest of the evening, smiling and nodding at his acquaintances’ comments. At one point in the evening, a man, not much older than you, approached you both with a wide smile.

“Dude, I hadn't seen you in ages. Stop sending your workers and come see me yourself.” They hugged. Why were they hugging?

“Y/n, this is my brother, Sungchan.” The man with puppy-like eyes embraced you tightly, almost as if welcoming you to his family. “Sungchan, this is y/n, my girlfriend.” He said it so naturally, it’d take a detective to figure out the truth about your relationship.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. I'm sorry for your father. But don't worry, we'll take those bastards down.”

“I’m not following...” You blinked repeatedly, eyes going back and forth between Yoonoh and his brother.

“Sungchan is a doctor. I asked him to look at your father's case for further evidence. My assistant was supposed to pick up the report the day we had dinner, but she forgot to drop by. Now we’re a day behind schedule.” The dark cloud surrounding him seemed to be slowly dissipating as you heard his explanation. “This is an important case, and I want to be as meticulous as possible.”

Thank you didn't seem the right thing to say at the moment, at least not with Sungchan standing there, so you simply grabbed his hand, squeezing it to let him know how grateful you were.

To your surprise, he didn't even flinch as he locked your hands together, causing a small giggle from Sungchan.

“Okay, love birds, I'll get going.” He waved you goodbye, making his way to another table where his friend waited for him.

“Can we talk?” You whispered in his ear, afraid one of the numerous attendants would hear you.

“Sure.” Without letting go of your hand, he drove you to a small, private garden just outside the ballroom. “Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?” His thumb caressed your knuckles with gentle strokes.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What for?”

“I pushed you away at the minimum trouble when you were only helping me.” He hummed as if he already knew about it. “And it will probably happen again, so please, be patient with me. I'm going through-” Your face collided against his chest as his arms draped over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly.

“Call me reckless, but I've wanted to do this for a while.” Your hands hung at the sides of your torso, unsure what to do next. “You can push me away, I'll understand...”

Instead, your palm found its place in his back, rubbing up and down the designer jacket. Your hair started turning messy from the night breeze, some strands striking Yoonoh’s chin as his embrace only grew tighter.

“Let’s get out of here.” He mumbled, crawling the back of your head with his hand. “Sungchan can deal with my father's friends.”

“Are you sure?” His hum vibrated through his chest, making you giggle at the odd feeling.

Once seated in his car, his hand found yours like a magnet, the warmth emanating from it comfortably enveloping your skin.

The calmness of the atmosphere was interrupted by a call from his brother, who seemed to be anxiously explaining something through the phone.

“Just tell him I had a work emergency.” With that said, he hung up, placing his hand back again on top of yours. “Sorry, he said it was urgent.”

“It’s okay.” An unsettling feeling pinched your stomach, but you decided to dismiss it, immersed in the chilly weather of the dark streets.

You arrived at the river, where Yoonoh asked you to wait for him while he bought a couple of beers. It was a sight to see, both of you clad in fancy clothes, barefoot and chugging down can after can.

“I think I like being with you.” You declared, mind fuzzy from the alcohol intake.

“I think I like it too.” The tips of his ears were rosy, revealing he was as intoxicated as you, maybe even more.

“Would you like to visit my father with me tomorrow?” The words flew out of your mouth before you could even realize. Afraid you'd killed the mood, you tried to excuse yourself, only to be interrupted by his lips grazing your ear, placing a timid kiss on your lobe.

“I’d love to.” It was the sweetest peck, no ulterior motives behind it, just pure affection.

“Are we going too fast?” In your drunken state, what you had felt like a real relationship, not a simple agreement. And this sure felt like a first date.

“We’re moving at our own pace, I believe.” He dropped his head on your shoulder, pressing against it to relieve the dizziness clouding his mind. “Are you okay with that? Maybe you don't want to be with an old creep like me, and I'd totally get it. Just don't let me get my hopes up if that's the case.”

“You might be old, but definitely not a creep.” Your fingers combed through his abundant hair as your mind wandered into the future, grateful for the fact that he wouldn't become bald soon. “Or are you?”

“I don't think so.” Anyone who walked by would've seen a couple of goofs, too intoxicated to talk without slurring the words, but you were living in your own, comfy bubble. “I should get you home before it gets too late. Come on, I'll call a driver.” He tried getting on his feet to no avail, stumbling back a little before falling back on his ass.

“My apartment is nearby. You can stay for the night.” You grabbed both pairs of shoes as his arm surrounded your shoulder for assistance. “If you keep supporting your whole weight on me, we're both gonna fall.” People on the street shot you a couple of funny looks, which was understandable since it wasn't usual to see two drunk idiots walking barefoot in the middle of the night.

“How long till-” Hiccup. “-we get there?” His stare seemed to worsen with every step. “God, I think I might throw up.”

“Stop acting like a teenager, we're almost there.”

As soon as you arrived at the small apartment, you sat him down on the little step where you changed your shoes. You left both pairs on the rack, proceeding to put on slippers to enter the house.

“Don’t leave me here!” He whined, stomping his feet like a little kid.

“Just wait for a second!” His attitude was starting to get on your nerves to the point where you couldn't feel the effects of the beer anymore.

You grabbed a rag from the kitchen cabinet and dampened it under the sink. Yoonoh was half asleep when you walked back to him.

“My head hurts.” He mumbled as you sat in front of him, placing his left foot on your lap. “What are you doing?”

“I don't have any slippers that will fit you, and I don't want your dirty feet making my house dirty.” With utmost delicacy, you wiped away the dirt from his toes, noticing the small scratches caused by the gravel he walked on.

He touched your hair while you finished with his other foot, tangling the strands with fascination.

“Done, get up.”

He followed your indications as you guided him to your room, where you laid him down on his side in case he threw up.

“Are we visiting your father tomorrow?” He asked while snuggling under the covers.

“Sure.” You cleared his forehead from the strands falling in it, grazing the soft skin of his forehead. “Sweet dreams, gigantic baby.”

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.    

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ���single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

~

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do.                                                                                           Sincerely,                                                                      Steve Rogers

                                                                                            ~

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

 When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.  

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

[apocalypticgargoyle]

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

I've heard that on TV shows all the time, but hearing it with my own ears is new. I'm scared.

"Hello, hi, uhm." What do I say? How do I do this? "I'm on interstate four, right by the exit to route 408 and I just watched a car go over the side." It feels not real, feels like I'm watching an action movie or one of those dashcam tiktoks that find their way onto my for you page from time to time.

"What interstate four, northbound or south?"

I look to the sign, forgetting that I've driven on this road a million times, still reeling. "North- northbound on four."

"I've dispatched emergency services to you. Can you see the driver?"

I can't even see the car, just the chunks taken out of the concrete barrier where the car hopped it, can see the brake lights still though. "Not where I am but I'm- I pulled off to the shoulder, I can get out and go see if they're okay."

"You don't have to do that, ma'am." A million things are running through my mind, but one sticks out.

"I'm, uh, I'm first aid trained, and I took an EMT class for extra credit in college, I might be able to help?" I turn my keys in the ignition, make sure to keep my hazards on and pocket them, dig through my glove box for the bare bones first aid kit I got when I got the car last year.

"Emergency services are 5 minutes out. I can walk you through helping and give them a better picture if you go over there, but you don't have to. Help is on the way."

"I'm going to see if I can help." Opening the driver's side door seems much too scary, with cars whizzing past going well over the 65 miles per hour speed limit. It's 3 in the morning, and there are no speed traps on this stretch of the interstate. People speed, and they go way over. Instead, I opt to climb over to the passenger seat, careful not to accidentally turn off my hazards, and start over to the crumbled concrete and brake lights. I can hear the driver before I see him, yelling for help. I call out to him.

"Thank god, can you call 911?" He yells, and then I see him. He's laid up between the dash and a cracked but not shattered windshield, curled to see me through the passenger side window, which is gone.

"I'm on the phone with them now, they're, how many minutes is it, 911 lady?"

"Gigi, two minutes out. Can you see the driver? Does he have any visible injuries?"

"Two minutes out, yeah, he's got cuts on his face and his arms, and-" It registers then, that I can see the bones of his arm jutting out of his elbow, and his leg is bent at an impossible angle, and his nose is much too bloody to still be intact. "I think a couple broken bones, too." It's then that I hear the sirens, loud honking, and look to see flashing lights moving down the road. "They're almost here, dude, just keep hanging out."

There's really not all that much distance between where he went over and the ground, so it's easy to clear the wall and land on the ground. Up closer, I can see the puddle of blood he's laying in, bubbling steady out of a large cut in his leg. A flash of my EMT class comes through, it's an artery, somewhere in his leg, and you need to tourniquet it, like ASAP. The truck is still honking, backed up in the saturday night orlando traffic and people pulling to the side to let them through and while I can see and hear it, there's a good half mile wall of bumper to bumper pulling off to give space. No clear path.

"Hey, are you, how do you feel?"

"I feel like shit for crashing my buddy's car, but that's about it right now. Why?" Asking that after you hopped an embankment crashing a car seems kinda weird, but ok?

"I think I need to, like, help you with your leg? Can I?" He nods. I close the distance between me and his car door and manage to open it enough so I can get in the car. It's awkward and there's no real good footing, but I manage to wedge myself in enough to get in a stable spot. "Let's see if I can remember how to do this. I need-"

Ever the helpful phone call, Gigi reminds me. "You need to tie something just above where he's bleeding, tight as you can. A cut seatbelt, a t shirt, something like that." There is nothing like that in my immediate vicinity except for my own shirt, which, I can give up my shirt for this guy, there's another one shoved somewhere in my trunk. It gets stripped off quickly and Gigi helps with directions all the way through. My hands shake vigorously, but I manage to get it to the point where I can't visibly see volumes of blood pour out of him, so I count it as a win.

I look at the truck, still pretty stuck where it is, but the ambulance is getting through, still huge but better able to work through the gaps between the large quantity of cars.

"Am I going to die? Is that why you keep looking to see where they are? Cause I'm going to die?"

"No." I speak firmly despite the panic coursing through my veins, the fear that I might be lying right to his face. "No. The paramedics are almost here and they're gonna help you and get you to the hospital and all that. You're not gonna die." I read somewhere once that in that situation you have to reassure people. They don't fight to live if they think they might die.

The stretch of time that passes before there's an EMT in front of me feels like a lifetime, even if it's only a couple of minutes. And the first thing I notice is that his gaze travels down my body, catching at my chest and oh, yeah, I gave my shirt to the bleeding guy and should probably get out of the paramedic's way. I make to go back and get the extra shirt I know I have in my backseat but I get stopped on my way by another EMT who wants to check and make sure I'm okay.

"I wasn't in the car, I called it in." I wave my phone, which still has 911 on the line, but the paramedic insists, points to a cut on my arm I hadn't realized I'd gotten. I get led to sit on the tailgate of an ambulance, watching firefighters run past from the truck that finally got through carrying loads of stuff, heavy equipment with ease. Nimble fingers clean out the cut before deciding it's not deep enough for stitches, just using steri-strips and wrapping it in gauze with gentle hands and a reserved smile.

"Jade, we need to get going with him!" The first EMT I saw calls while running with a gurney, the guy from the accident strapped against a yellow board with my work shirt still tied around his leg. The paramedic helping me jumps into action, ushers me into the ambulance and helps the guy get the gurney in.

"Sit down, buckle up." He says, looking at me. Jade turns and gives me a bit of a sympathetic look.

"He's always like this. You have to get that checked in the ER still." Oh. Okay. I sit down, strap into the seat, and the ambulance starts moving before the doors are fully closed. They get the car guy all hooked up to all kinds of machines and fuss over him, till the monitor beeping with what I assume is his heart rate steadies, and then the EMT guy visibly relaxes, eyes landing on me again. I cross my arms over my chest, much more self conscious of my state of dress with his gaze on me. He's, unfairly attractive, wavy blonde hair and toned skin, wrapped in an unbelievably tight uniform.

"D'you- here." And then he starts unbuttoning his uniform shirt, and I'm sure my eyes go wide. There's another shirt on under, just as tight with the fire department logo emblazoned on the chest of it. He shrugs off the button down and pulls the t shirt over his head and dear lord, why the hell do men feel so called to wear wife beaters under their clothes, I wanna see how fucking hot he is. The t shirt gets tossed into my lap. He really just- gave me the shirt off his back. My gaze locks on to it, only being torn away from the offending garment when he clears his throat and I snap back up to see him, button up back on his shoulders but undone, face sheepish and what I'd guess to be a blush tinting his skin further in the half dark of the ambulance. "You looked uncomfortable."

It's my turn to go red, flush covering most of my skin and incredibly visible. "Thanks." It takes a moment of maneuvering to get the shirt on with the seatbelt, but it's warm and smells of laundry detergent and a hint of cologne.

"Dream, only fuckin' you." His head whips to the other EMT.

"Only fuckin' me what? Huh?" Jade just laughs, head shaking from side to side.

"Only fuckin' you would give the first girl your age on a call the shirt off your damn back." If he wasn't blushing before, he is now, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

"Sorry if that's weird."

"No, it's- I appreciate it." I do.

"Good work, with the tourniquet. He'd be dead by now without it." Is that really the best thing to say while the guy can hear us? Maybe not. Speaking of the guy,

"Is his leg supposed to turn blue like that?" The relaxation in his face vanishes that instant as he hauls up, moves to where he can look up close at the leg, tearing up the leg of the guy's pants.

"Jade, I need to set it so he can keep the leg, can you keep him still?" A distinct yes, and then I get to watch as his muscles flex, hands gripping tight to the broken leg of this guy, and then an audible crack resounds through the small space of the ambulance as he pushes his body forward. The car guy's closed eyes shoot open, mouth gaping in a yell of pain underneath of an oxygen mask. I'm sure that probably hurts like a bitch, and suddenly I am very grateful that I've never broken a bone.

There's not much left in the ride. The two EMTs, Jade and Dream, mainly continuing to work on keeping his monitor from making the erratic beeping it has been letting out from time to time. The ER is a blur of people bustling around the guy, but I get led from the ambulance by a doctor to check the cut on my arm before he comes to the same conclusion that no, I do not need stitches, but that I do need to change the dressing once a day and gives me some disinfectant cream to put on it when I do. While he cleans the wound out, he asks in a lilted british accent. "Did you really tourniquet the guy with your shirt?"

"Yeah, I did. The one thing I remembered from my EMT class, really came in handy." I joke, and he laughs.

"Well the guy is lucky you did. You're an EMT?" I shake my head, and wince a bit when he presses a bit too hard.

"Nah, I wait tables at the Waterfront in South Orange. Took an EMT class for a summer course cause I thought it'd be fun." He hums, turning to grab more bandages to rewrap my forearm.

"Well maybe you should look into it. Quick thinking like that would get you far there."

"I might." It's a real possibility. My accounting major proved to get me the single most boring desk job ever, and I've been looking into other career paths recently. He smiles at me when he finishes wrapping, pulls a card out of his pocket and a pen, scribbles something on the back of it.

"Put me as a reference if you decide you want to." That's, incredibly nice.

"I will, thank you, uhm," The name stitched into his coat is hard to make out. "Doctor Davidson?"

"George. You're good to go, just need to fill out a little paperwork and then you can leave." He walks over to grab a clipboard and a form, brings it back to me, and then heads over to another bed with a little girl in it, pulling a curtain closed behind him.

A week later, I find myself outside of the massive firehouse on Central Boulevard. There's a couple guys in shirts that match the one in my hand outside washing a firetruck, and one notices me and comes over. He's cute. Dark hair that's a little longer than a boys regular, scraps of facial hair on his cheeks, and brown eyes that crinkle at the edges when he smiles.

"Y'need help with something?" His voice confirms the fact that he's young, and it takes me a minute to pull my eyes away from the way his sleeves are tight around the muscle of his arms.

"Uh, yeah, I'm looking for Dream?" I hold up the shirt and the brownies I made as a last minute addition for the firehouse.

"Ahh, shirt girl. Follow me." He heads into the building through one of the massive garage doors, and it is remarkably clean inside. He heads up some stairs to a balcony that overlooks the firetrucks, and both of the paramedics who had helped me are sitting there, talking over plates of pasta. The guy leading me clears his throat and they both look up.

"Hi." I say awkwardly with a small wave. "I brought your shirt back." Dream flusters, standing up to take the shirt from my hands with a thank you and I give him the brownies, too.

"Dream, cough them up, I want one."

"Sap, shut the hell up, here." He places them gently on the table.

"Okay, what's with your guy's names? No way his name is Sap." All three of them laugh.

"They're nicknames." Dream laughs. "My real name is Clay, and his is Nick. Jade is just Jade though, haven't gotten a nickname for them yet." He looks over his shoulder back at his coworker. "Coward." I feel like there's a story here that I don't know, but I don't press for it.

"I mean, I told you my last station called me Storm, so unless you can top that you can call me Jade and nothing else." I like Jade. Jade's funny.

Clay just rolls his eyes, no real malice behind it. "It's gotta be one we give to you. I'm thinking something about you being our getaway driver."

"Dream if you make a baby driver joke right now I swear you will not live to see tomorrow." He laughs, hard and wheezing, sounding nearly painful.

"Fine, fine." He turns to me. "Thank you for returning this." There's a distinct red flush creeping up his neck, but his smile is genuine, green eyes bright with it. Shit. Why do they have to be unfairly attractive? Who's idea was it? Huh? "I'll walk you out."

He walks me all the way to my car, standing awkwardly next to the door of my car.

"Well, I'll let you get back to work. You got lives to save."

"Wait," He says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'm sorry if this is too forward, but could I get your number?" Oh. Oh.

"Yeah, of course." He hands me his phone and I punch in my contact, handing his phone back to him. "You should text me so I have yours."

The smile on his face is fitting, full of white teeth and bright happiness. "I will."

I don't think I put my phone down for a week. Clay and I text nearly non stop, and I learn a lot about him in the process. He has a cat (a beautiful tabby named patches who purrs very loudly), he's from Orlando (born and raised, baby.), he wanted to be a firefighter because his dad was one, but his mom who's a nurse had him take EMT training instead (I owe her everything for that), and that he's off work this Friday and wants to head out for drinks with a couple of his fire station buddies and me. I also start getting snapchats from that cute coworker of his, Nick.

I can't tell if Nick intends to be flirting with me or is just trying to get to know the girl his "best fucking friend" is talking to, but... I am definitely feeling some type of way about both of them. It's great, the attention is nice, until Nick invites me out to drinks with them on Friday night not three hours after Clay does.

I feel like my best bet is to be honest with them. I'm not one for lying. And then a new groupchat shows up on my phone. It's got Clay and a number I don't have saved in my phone, and there's a message sent, and then another. I'm scared to open it.

I expect it to be both of them mad that I'm talking to the other and instead it's not? There's a message from Clay and it's-

Dreamie

Hey, I just talked to Nick and wanted to make this groupchat with the three of us. I'm not mad you're talking with him, and he's not mad you're talking to me. We both really like you, and are open to letting you make the decision for yourself if you end up with one of us. Just wanted to communicate that with you :)

And another from who I'm assuming is Nick that says:

Unknown Number

its up to you what happens and if your not ok with this then just tell us and we'll back off.

It's not something I've experienced before talking with two guys at once. Talking with two guys at once that know and work with each other with their consent? Never would have imagined it in a million years. But this is probably the best way to go about it.

Three more days pass before I see either of them in person, still having plans to go out for drinks with Clay on Friday. I end up sandwiched in between the two of them in a both of some firefighter bar on the south side of the city. I feel awkward tucked between them until I get a bit of alcohol flowing through my veins, and then conversation comes like second nature. It's not crazy eventful, feels like I'm hanging out with close friends rather than basically strangers, and it's nice.

The night passes quick, but it's still fun, especially when Clay drives me home and drops me at the bottom of my apartment building with a promise of more plans and a quick kiss that leaves him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.

In the morning, I wake up to go into work and see a text from Nick, inviting me to dinner with him tonight. I shoot back with a sure, I'd love to. Getting off work at four so that's perfect. and he just sends back a :) and an "I'll pick you up at 7." that makes my shift drag on and on. True to his word, he's outside my apartment building at 7 pm sharp in a button down with his hair brushed neatly behind the wheel of a toyota corolla.

"Where are we even going for dinner?" Nick just shoots me a smile and fucking winks at me.

"You'll see. It's a surprise."

It ends up being some hole in the wall chinese restaurant with what Nick claims is "the best moo goo gai pan in the city". It's fucking amazing, that's for sure, a steaming wok full of it in front of the two of us with plates of fried rice to go with it. It's not an experience I've had at a restaurant before and it's insanely fun. Nick pokes fun at my inability to use chopsticks, tells stories about his friend making fun of him for not being able to use them and learning how at three o'clock in the morning. We're constantly laughing between bites of amazing food, and this easily makes my top three first dates of all time. He refuses to let me pay for my half, but he does let me get the tip after I insist several times that its the least I could do. 

We're halfway through a really good conversation about something that doesn't matter when he pulls up to my apartment, and, not wanting that to end, I invite him upstairs with me. 

"Oh? It's my turn to come up with you?" He teases, and I'm confused for a second before I realize, oh yeah, I'm essentially talking with him and his best friend. 

"What do you mean turn? Clay didn't come up with me, he-" It's probably not the best idea to say he kissed me, I don't want to make Nick jealous. "He dropped me off at the door and he said goodbye." It's not- a lie, per say, but the second it passes my lips I feel guilty, knowing that we need to be honest for this to even have a shot at working. "He kissed me goodbye though." Honesty. We need honesty.

I don't really know what to expect as a reaction from him, but it's not a smile, cocky as ever. 

"Does that mean if I go up with you that I get a kiss too?" Nice, easy, no drama with honesty. 

"Maybe. You'd have to come find out." The grin he's got stays plastered to his face the whole time we're in the elevator, the whole time he's talking mindlessly about the distinct lack of fire safety in the building, the whole time I'm fighting with the works half the time lock on my door. "It's probably too late for coffee, but I have tea in the fridge or coke, or water if you want it." I say, turning to close the door behind us. 

"I'm all good, thank you though." The smile's still there, crinkling his eyes and baring white teeth. "Could go for a kiss, now that I think about it." I shake my head, but still, I laugh. 

"What is it that they call it?"

"Kissing? Lip locking? Smooching?"

"One track mind." That one earns a laugh, a hearty one from deep in his throat.

"You're funny." He says, grabbing my hand and gently tugging me to come sit on the couch with him. "And cute." He sits, pulls me with him so I end up sideways in his lap. The hand he led me over with comes up to brush some of the hair out of my face. "And unbelievably pretty. How could I think about anything else?" 

Smooth. Smooth as fucking butter. Smooth enough for him to earn a quick press of my lips to his own. I can feel him smiling before I pull back, but he chases, returning with a kiss just as chaste before leaning back into the couch, looking like the cat who got the cream.

"I'm winning. I got two kisses." I roll my eyes.

"Isn't it quality over quantity?" He hums, eyes playing from my lips to my own. 

"Why not both?"

"Haha, funny." They're playful, his eyes, as we talk. His bottom lip juts out in a joking pout, and I lean in to kiss at it. He moves at the last second, though, closes the last little bit of space between us when he moves forward to kiss me, soft and slow. His lips are slightly chapped, ever so gentle as the press against mine. My hands press into his thighs to keep me up as his hands come to wrap loosely around my shoulders and he pushes further into the kiss before pulling back. 

"Quality?" 

"Need more data." I say before our lips meet again. He's sweet with it, the way he kisses me. It's nice, easy, feels familiar even though it isn't, not yet. One of his hands moves to rub soft at the nape of my neck. 

I'm just getting comfortable in it when he deepens the kiss, tongue soft against the seam of my lips. It draws a gasp, just what he needs to push further, licking into my mouth before catching my bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it. He's a good fucking kisser, hahh's into my mouth when I bring my hands up to tug at the dark strands of hair on the back of his head. 

But like all good things, it must come to an end. Unfortunately, that end is when my phone starts blaring the insanely annoying ringtone my friend set it as that I don't know how to change. 

"Nick, I gotta-" 

"Yeah." His arms drop, letting me stand so I can grab my phone and answer whoever is calling. 

"Hello?" 

"We have new information regarding student loan repayment in your area." Is loud in my ear, so I just pull back and press the red end call button.

Nick laughs a little. "Not important?"

"Spam call. Can't be assed to get put on the do not call list right now. I was doing research."

"Yeah? You happy with the results you're getting?" 

This motherfucker I swear.

"This motherfucker I swear." Is also the first thing I say in the morning when I wake up for work and there's a fat hickey on the side of my neck, dark purple and blatantly obvious. I send him a snap of it, just saying really? and he sends back a picture of himself and Clay sitting on the tailgate of a ladder truck with a :) and I am instantly worried that one, Clay saw the snap I sent him and two, that I won't be able to cover it for work. Pushing the first thought out of my mind to focus on the second, I try to get it as normal looking as I can before my shift. It's not perfect, not by a long shot, but it's good enough.

I'm riding the high of not getting comments on it at work when that first thought comes back, catalysted by a snapchat from Clay, a picture barely of his hair with the geotag from the gym down the street from the firehouse with text across it that says "purple looks good on you." I don't know how to respond to that, just send back the floor in front of me. oh come on now  pops up in the chat, and he's still typing. not mad. excited for my turn.  Right.

sorry  I shoot back. this is all pretty new to me

trying to be careful cause i dont wanna mess this up

The little bitmoji he has attached to his account pops up in the corner, lurking for a moment before he starts typing

having these chats is what makes it work. I don't go bragging to Nick about what you and I do, and he doesn't do that to me, but we don't lie about what happens. 

its alot, and none of us have done this before

but keeping communication open and honest is how it works

and that means feelings talks 

He's right. 

youre right

He is. I don't want to make them jealous of each other and that's probably the best way to combat that.

we also have to keep things fair ;) so i get a date too

That has me smiling like an idiot at my phone.

yeah? you got one planned?

not exactly. you doing anything rn though?

I was going to make a sandwich and watch She's the Man for the third time this month.

was gonna watch a movie if you wanna join?

I get a sure, would love to  and a could i trouble you for a pick up from the station?  that has me grabbing my keys and jogging to the elevator faster than I would like to admit.

When I get there, I head inside to say hi to Nick and collect Clay after both of them have assured me that I'm allowed to do so. I don't see Nick when I first walk in, but I do see Clay and jesus, mary, and joseph his hands. He's working over a slab of what seems to be silicon with those massive fingers moving with the utmost precision. When I get a little closer I can see that he's making sutures to close gashes and holes in the mat. I'm impressed with how uniform they are, each a perfect match of the one before it, and with the speed that his hands were moving, I'd say its even more impressive. I'm- not a perfect person, and the thought of what those hands could do to me has me flushing. 

He's pretty wrapped up in what he's doing so I don't want to bother him, but I'm watching so intently that I don't notice Nick come up to me until he hugs me from behind. It makes me jump.

“Shit, Nick, you scared me.”

-gg w the 911 au update

Gg I'm 😩😩😩 you are an amazing writer 🛐 teach me

[kaysayshey]

off paper || e. kirishima

This is a work inspired by a struggle that a lot of those suffering with mental illness experience, particularly those with depression and bipolar disorder; however, it can be applied to a lot of mood-altering medications that cause sexual dysfunction. While medication is a life changing and stabilizing aspect of many lives, it doesn't come without its cons. I think Kirishima would be incredibly understanding in this situation. Please keep in mind that bipolar disorder presents in many ways. There is no one-size-fits-all in mental health treatment or in its subsequent treatment. I wanted to write a bit about the side effects of SSRI medications.

Songs that I listened to while writing include:

Serendipity by BTS' Jimin

Bumper Cars by Alex and Sierra

That Kind of Love by MAX

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, NSFW (no smut, however this work contains sexual topics), mention of prescription drugs, bipolar disorder, minors DNI.

On paper, Kirishima Eijirou was perfect. An impressive sidekick working underneath Fatgum, his cheery disposition more than capable of reassuring even the most terrified of civilians. A hard-hitting, defensive quirk paired with determination unlike anything you'd ever seen. Easy-going enough to work with the difficult heroes - and by difficult, everyone meant Dynamight. Intelligent, reliable, and just the right amount of competitive.

Off paper, he was even better. Hell, the moment he'd asked you out, you'd almost done a double-take. Was he sure? Kirishima could date, well, anyone. However, you'd blurted out 'yes' before your brain had time to catch up, even more surprised at the gorgeous pink that graced the tips of his ears.

And the date went wonderfully. Were you expecting anything different? He was a magnet, and you were willing to be the refrigerator he stuck to - at least, for as long as he wanted. How he managed to remember what flavor of milk tea and boba you preferred, following it up with a quick delivery while working twelves at the agency, was beyond you. Good morning texts wishing you an easy day of your own hero work, good night texts hoping that your dreams were "sweeter than you." The moment a bouquet of roses was sent to your office, you had to admit it.

You were embarrassingly attracted to Kirishima Eijirou.

Not that he minded, no. If anything, he returned the feeling tenfold. After the first date came a string of others before finally labeling it as a relationship. Movie nights, walks through the park, chaste kisses interspersed by giggles as you both laughed at whatever came to mind. The quick meetings between your lips turned into full-on sessions that left your knees weak. Being with Kirishima was easy in a way that nothing else had been.

But let's face it. Working as a full-time hero with bipolar disorder made life, well, tough. A pharmaceutical cocktail and therapy helped, turning what was the disaster of your life into a manageable mess. Episodes were few and far between, the prickling anxiety was quelled by coping techniques and medication when necessary. The days spent in a daze of your own "self-medicating" were long gone, thank whatever higher power was out there. No, life was on the upswing for you in pretty much every aspect of the phrase.

Except for your sex life.

And no, that wasn't to say that Kirishima was doing anything wrong. To be quite honest, he was doing every just right. Kissing the places you loved most, calloused hands lingering deliciously over your skin. A voice like honey whispering in your ear, beautiful moans of how gorgeous you were, how he absolutely adored you. Saying that it left you with weak, knocking knees was an understatement. He was an emotional hurricane, sending butterflies through your stomach as he showered you with praise and carefully placed lips.

Other than a complete lack of climaxing, it was amazing.

You knew this was a possibility once you had started taking medications. A loss of libido was one thing, but being unable to finish was starting to wear on you. Before you could stop yourself, you were doing the unthinkable: faking orgasms.

After all, who wants to spend close to an hour between someone's thighs just to be met with frustrated sighs and potentially awkward conversations? No, Kirishima didn't need to spend so much time on your pleasure, not when there was a high probability that you wouldn't finish at all. As long as the moans weren't straight out of a low-budget porno overly exaggerated, you figured you'd get away with it.

Getting away with it turned out to be the least of your issues. The struggle was real. Outside of the sweetest lovemaking with Kirishima, you desperately tried every trick in the book to reach an orgasm on your own. Something. Anything. You were beginning to feel pent-up, needy. The money spent on toys was starting to reach an uncomfortably high number. Time was wasted and followed up by flopping onto the bed in frustration. No amount of lube, porn, or fantasy was helping. Once you hit the hour mark, you basically gave up.

And you were now pacing the hallways of your apartment, irrational tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Why did it matter? Orgasming was not the end all, be all of life. But the memory of before the medications, the euphoric bliss that would force your back from the mattress, that memory reared its head more often than you cared to admit. God damn it, you just wanted to feel the shudders, the rush of pleasure surging through your body, insatiable heat quenched. And you wanted to stop lying to him. The tears rimming your lash line made their arrival known, long tracks staining your cheeks.

This is, of course, when Kirishima decides to knock on your door. After all, you had planned to have a comfortable night in, a delightful line up of rom-coms at your disposal. Movies that you now wanted to throw out the nearest window. Why, why did you have to try again? He deserved so much more than a broken partner, a partner who would never be able to match him. Someone who could crash at the slightest struggle, who broke when their insecurities were brought to life.

Another set of knocks. Time to face the music.

As you gently opened the door, the drop in Kirishima's face was visible as he took in your state. Where a bright grin had been settled now featured lips drawn into a tight, worried line. After all, you did everything in your power to keep him in the dark in regards to your mental illness. Not necessarily your smartest move, in retrospect. Hindsight, you know?

The moment the door clicked behind him, Kirishima was gathering you in his arms, a large hand gently stroking the back of your head. A kiss to your temple, his forehead pressing against your hairline. Deep breaths weren't helping you at this point. Because regardless of how frustrated you were, Kirishima was safety, the warmth of his embrace a haven for you to let out the sobs that were wracking through your body.

And as the tears fell, darkening his gray tee shirt, Kirishima ran his hands up and down your back, the comforting heat of his body providing temporary relief. After moments of crying, you pressed your head against his chest, eyes glued to the linoleum floor beneath you.

A thick finger and thumb tenderly met your chin, slowly lifting your face to meet his eyes. Those usually warm red irises were dark with worry, the pad of his thumb running circles over and over against your skin. Another reminder of just how good he was. No man had ever made you feel as desired or important as Kirishima.

"Baby, what happened?" he murmured, still caressing your face so gingerly that it brought the threat of more tears.

"It's nothing, nothing important," came your quick response, avoiding any lingering eye contact. It wasn't that important. Sexual gratification came second to emotional connection, and you had that firmly in your grasp with Eijirou. Why would you risk losing someone like that?

His eyebrow narrowed at your words, and he kept your face cradled in his hands. "Please tell me, baby. I want to help."

God, that expression of pure concern. Like you were everything to him, like your hurt was his hurt. It was in that moment you knew: you couldn't keep lying to him. Whether it meant he'd leave for someone else, someone perfectly, indescribably normal; that didn't matter. If anyone deserved a picture-perfect romance, it was Kirishima.

Eijirou, I-" Your voice broke from the nerves, unable to hold his unflinching gaze. How could someone be so earnest? He nodded, those same reassuring circles urging you to speak.

"I think you deserve someone better."

He looked like you'd honest to goodness slapped him. So many emotions flashed over his usually cheerful face that it scared you. Oh, god, this wasn't what you wanted to do, but how could you not? No one wanted someone like you. Once he knew, he'd leave. Better to push him away first and just let it end now before-

"What are you talking about? Baby. I don't want anyone else. I want you." His words came out stammered, tripping over his tongue and falling into the otherwise quiet apartment. Kirishima shook his head slowly, searching your face for some form of reassurance that this wasn't what you wanted. That you didn't want him.

"I don't know why. I just, I'm too much. You'll end up getting frustrated with me and I just, I just can't take that kind of heartbreak."

"Too much? You're never too much, what are you talking about?"

The words fell before you could stop them, faster than should be discernible to the human ear. But if there was anything Eijirou was, it was attentive.

"My medicine is driving me crazy, and I know without it I'll go over the edge again. But I want to feel normal, Eiji. I can't handle feeling like I'm not normal." And it was true. Sex was so innately human, and knowing that there was a chance that you'd never be able to gain that ultimate satisfaction was driving you mad. Was this just an overreaction from a brain exhausted from constantly fighting itself, or was this a logical, albeit emotionally charged, reaction?

"Your medicine?"

There it was. What you wanted to avoid mentioning. Sure, it wasn't fair to keep it from him. But let's be honest, you'd been expecting this to end after the first few months. And now? Now you were shaking in his arms, knowing this confession would be the end of the dreamy love you'd been experiencing.

"My medicine for uh... for my, um. I have bipolar disorder. It's why I can't work on Thursdays, too. I have to go to therapy. I know I should've told you from the beginning but I just, you know, I really, really like you, and I don't-"

One finger met your lips followed by soothing shushes from his own. As if the world's weight had been lifted from his capable shoulders, Kirishima let out a heaving sigh of relief. The arm around your waist pulled you closer, his large hand splaying comfortably against your back.

"I'm not going anywhere. I just want you to be okay. What can I do for you?"

And that left you tearfully admitting it all. Longing for the physicality that would bring you closer together, the bliss of coming undone at your partner's hands. Disgust when you listened to your friends' bragging of delicious, gratifying one-night stands. Aching heat desperate to be relieved by your man only to be left at the edge, the warmth still tingling through your body. How you felt caught halfway between "normal" and "crazy" even with the drugs. And Kirishima nodded, hanging on every word.

"I'm glad you told me," he began, slowly trailing his fingertips up and down your back. "If I had known, I would've worked ten times harder. Will you let me make you feel good, honey? Please?"

How did those few sentences send you into another fit of tears? Clutching the lightweight fabric of his shirt and apologizing for the damp stains, you nuzzled against his chest in embarrassment. But he continued his motions, adept fingers working at your tense muscles.

That night, he gave you everything you wanted and more, eager to please you in a way he never had. Eyes focused, sweet nothings spilling from his lips, tender hands and featherlight kisses. Teasing and romance and dedication over hours, something you'd never experienced before.

On paper, Kirishima was perfect. Off paper, he was even more. And he fulfilled his promise to you, "I love you" slipping from his lips when you finally reached your euphoria.

"I love you too, Eijirou."

"I'll always love you more."

[lvllns]

it don't matter to me (wherever we are is where i wanna be)

the wayhaven chronicles. felix hauville x kincaid anderson (nb detective). teen and up rating for language. established relationship, mostly fluff with some angst. 1300+ words. — let's take our chances and roll the dice, chapter 1 of 3.

notes: this is just an excuse to write felix meeting the people kincaid considers family. i’m taking some liberties with the detective’s backstory but listen, i made a 6′5 cowboy, i’m gonna exploit the cowboy part of it.

[ao3 link]

—

Kincaid throws his truck into park with a sigh, but when Felix glances over, concerned, he only finds him smiling so wide his dimples are visible.

The ranch sprawls out in front of them, an endless sea of grass broken up by various buildings. Felix thinks he can see the barn from here, tucked to the right behind the house. A few cattle lift their heads, ears flicking forward with momentary curiosity before they return to grazing. He inhales. Deep. Lets the air fill his lungs and yeah, it smells like cows mostly. Little bit sweet from the grass, and a whole lot of just dirt.

It smells like cows and dirt.

He startles when Kincaid reaches over and takes his hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips for a brief kiss as he murmurs, “Thank you for agreein’ to come,” against his skin.

Felix shrugs, eyes darting from Kincaid to the land around them. “Why wouldn’t I?” He tilts his head, eyebrows knitting together as he focuses on Kincaid once more. “You’re important to me and they’re all important to you. I’d have to meet them eventually.”

Kincaid pulls his head back, thumb rubbing over the bumps of Felix’s knuckles. There’s something in his eyes Felix can’t place. Soft, tender. The bright green of them mellowing as the corner of his mouth lifts. “Extenuating circumstances and all that.” Kincaid shifts. Felix thinks about how this wasn’t supposed to happen. How Adam brought up a laundry list of issues surrounding the both of them going all the way out here for two days. What about food? I’m not trying to stop you two from doing this, but you need to be realistic about the situation. “I’ve...never actually brought anyone else here,” he says with a soft laugh. “Never really wanted to if I’m bein’ honest.”

“I’m special then?” Felix means it to be a lighthearted quip. A way to snap the tension in the cab of the truck, and he is caught off-guard by how earnest Kincaid’s expression becomes.

His hand is raised to Kincaid’s mouth again. Another soft kiss, another sentence whispered against his knuckles even as those moss bright eyes steadily hold his gaze. “You are...so special to me Felix.” He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, watching as Kincaid lowers his hand once more. “You have no idea.”

Words stick at the back of his tongue. He means to say them, he does, but a woman comes hurrying out of the house hollering Kincaid’s name and the moment is gone.

A feather on the wind.

Kincaid tosses him a soft smile and throws his door open. “Stephanie!”

Felix slips from the car, his door shutting with a soft thunk, and he watches the two of them quietly.

She’s a good foot shorter than Kincaid, brown hair streaked with grey, but her dark eyes are sharp and clear. She—Stephanie—whacks Kincaid on the chest with the towel she’s holding and Felix watches as his giant of a partner shrinks in on himself, cheeks going red.

“Kincaid Everett Anderson, you don’t call for weeks and then you just show up!” Felix half expects her to swat at him again but she pulls him in for a hug. A kiss on his cheek. “We’ve missed you terribly.”

“I’ve been textin’ Jase, if he ain’t—”

“Hasn’t.”

Kincaid clears his throat. Glances at Felix, but all he can do is try to stifle his laughter. When it becomes clear he’s not going to be any help, Kincaid continues. “Right, sorry ma’am. If he hasn’t been telling you, that’s not—”

“How hard would it be to send me a text, hm?” She pinches his ear, a fond smile on her face, and Kincaid bats at her hand half-heartedly. “It’s calving season, Jason can hardly remember what day it is.” Felix snorts and regrets it immediately when that keen gaze is trained on him. Kincaid gets whacked in the chest with the towel. Again. “Who’d you bring with you?” Stephanie’s voice is much softer now, the corners of her eyes gentling. Felix tries not to think about I’ve never brought anybody here before and fails.

“Steph, this is Felix. Felix, Stephanie.” He watches Kincaid toe at the dirt with his boot, shoulders curling forward just a little bit more. “He’s my boyfriend. We’re dating.”

There’s a beat and Felix almost expects this to go sideways immediately but he finds himself wrapped in a monster of a hug by this tiny woman and oh, she is much stronger than he expected. Iron bands for arms as she squeezes him tight. He reacts out of instinct, hugging her back, and then it’s over. Her hands rest on his shoulders as she looks him up and down before nodding.

“It is about time you brought somebody out here Kincaid.” She grins. “It’s lovely to meet you, Felix.”

His head hurts a little bit. This is a lot. He takes a second to settle himself before flashing the most charming smile he can. “You as well.”

Stephanie pats his arm absently. “Everyone is inside, but I suppose you’ll be heading to the barn to drop your stuff off.”

Felix senses Kincaid scoot closer and closer until their arms are brushing, fingers knocking together. “We’re sleeping in the barn?” He quirks a brow. Looks up at Kincaid who chuckles.

“There’s an apartment above, like a second story.” Felix nods as he looks beyond the house to what he assumes in the barn.

“It’s where Kincaid slept most nights as a kid,” Stephanie says, voice fond and faraway. She shakes her head. “Anyway, go.” The towel is now aimed at both of them, flicking their direction. Felix laughs as he dances away. “I’ll tell everyone else you’re here, I expect y’all will be riding before long.”

Kincaid grins and it’s bright. Blinding. A flash of white teeth and metal. He suffers another hit with the towel before they finally break away and head back to the truck. Felix leans against the door as he watches Kincaid grab the single backpack they shoved all their stuff in. Not much for one single night, a change of clothes and toothbrushes mostly. He takes another deep breath (Remember Felix, you need to at least try to breathe regularly.) and taps his fingers together. It’s so quiet. Which is fine, mostly. It’s just, Felix is so used to activity and the constant moving from case to case, and it’s so weird to be able to shut down. To stop running. To sit down and soak in the peace of the countryside.

“Fee?” He doesn’t startle but it’s a near thing, head twisting to find Kincaid looking at him carefully. Concerned. “Ya okay?”

His accent is getting thicker, he thinks. Felix nods. “Fine. It’s just quiet out here.”

Kincaid hums. Wraps his arm around Felix’s shoulders and steps close. He drops a kiss to the top of his head. His temple. “If you wanna go back tonight—”

“No!” He tips his head up, eyes narrowing. “It’s just not something I’m used to, how still and silent it is. I’ll be okay.”

“Ya sure?” Felix nods. Kincaid kisses his cheek. “‘Kay, but you tell me if you need anything?”

“Right, if it’s too quiet I’ll ask you about your motorcycle.”

Kincaid snorts. “Hey, you said it.” Felix rolls his eyes, unable to mask the smile that splits his face.

Another kiss to his cheek and then Kincaid finally, finally, kisses him properly. He leans up as Kincaid leans down and it’s so good. It always is. His lips are a little chapped, but Felix doesn’t care. He wraps his arms around Kincaid. Pulls him closer until they’re seamed together from chest to hips. He could do this all day and all night. Really. It’s not like he needs to—

Kincaid pulls away to take a deep breath and it’s gratifying how flushed he is. Cheeks pink, the color mixing with the freckles that cover his skin. His eyes are blown black, only the thinnest ring of green visible. He clears his throat before, “We should, uh, our stuff.”

Felix takes pity on him. Backs away and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Come on cowboy, show me around.”

[jimmys-zeppelin]

ghostin'

chapter ten

(table of contents)

(chapter nine)

april 3, 1976

help me

Ellie tried keeping her mind off of her potential situation after she got back home. As soon as she landed, she was at the doctor's office getting her blood drawn. The doctor said she'd have her results on Monday.

She observed how Jimmy had been acting in the 12 hours they were together before she left after their night out. It wasn't that he was on-edge, but he was definitely a little less than comfortable. And that was an understandable reaction considering how unexpected all this was.

She was separating, folding, and putting clothes away from her suitcase when the doorbell rang an incessant amount of times. Ellie knew it could only be one person with the insistence in which the doorbell rang.

The bell only stopped when Ellie finally yanked the door open, "Andrew, what the hell!" she joked. The dark-haired man nearly screamed with delight and engulfed the blonde in a hug.

"God, that was the longest fucking three weeks of my life! How was it? How'd it go? Did you break some beds?"

Ellie held her mouth agape for a second before laughing and ushering the man inside. He followed her back upstairs as they spoke, "No beds were broken, contrary to popular belief. But it went great. Jimmy said Charlotte really liked me after we stopped by a second time. And his daughter is so sweet."

"So you're cool with the family! Awesome. Now you know you'll probably be seeing more of them. Try not to catch the baby fever, though."

Ellie chuckled dryly at the statement, "You might be a little late on that one, Andrew."

"Listen, kids are cute, but when you actually have to take care of them, it's a hassle. Wait till you're old and wrinkly and you've already lived."

Her heart sank in her chest, would her life really be slowed down that drastically by a baby?

"El, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Can we not talk about babies right now?" She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose and crumpling up a shirt she had been holding, tossing it into her dirty clothes pile quite aggressively.

"Uh, oh. Seems like I hit a nerve. Did Jimmy say anything to you about having kids?"

"No, not exactly. He wasn't opposed to it. I just—I don't want to think about kids right now. Can we talk about something else?"

"Okay, fine I won't budge," he said, throwing his hands up in surrender before stammering in an attempt to find a new topic to talk about, "what was the house like?"

"It was beautiful. Huge. Like imagine my house but like ten times bigger. I know he doesn't need all those bedrooms."

"You two should've had sex in all of the rooms. A new room every night." Andrew said, almost excited at the prospect.

"What is it with your obsession in my sex life? Aren't you getting some?"

"It's a little hard for my scene of people, Ellie. And plus, it's not my fault your boyfriend is a total looker. I don't know how you don't just stare at him all day."

Ellie chuckled at the comment, "Well we did have a morning that we spent in bed. It was nice."

"You're keeping something from me. Ellie, we don't keep secrets."

"What do you—" Ellie tried to play off, only to enter a stare-down with her best friend. She kept eye contact for as long as she could before the dryness made her scrunch her eyes shut. "Fine! I am keeping something from you."

"And it is....?"

"I can't tell you just yet. But I will say one thing, I'm extremely worried about Jimmy. I walked into his office the other day because I was looking for something and there were just bottles. And drugs. All over the desk."

"What kind of drugs?" Andrew asked, leaning in.

Ellie folded up a skirt, putting it away in her drawer before answering, "heroin and coke."

"Heroin? I hear that shit is wack if you take too much. Was he shooting it?"

"He'd done at least three. He was completely zooted. Out of his mind. His arm looked like an inexperienced nurse trying to find a vein. Andrew, it was horrible."

"Oh, God. I can only imagine. I'm sorry, babe. What did he say when you saw him?"

"He didn't say anything. I got kind of mad at him afterwards because he knows I get worried when he uses the stuff. He tried to butter me up and say sorry, but I just kinda brushed him off."

"Aw, Ellie. Do you wanna go out tonight; get your mind off it?"

"I don't know...I don't really wanna drink this weekend."

"We don't have to drink." He shrugged.

Ellie eyed him suspiciously, "since when does 'going out' not consist of drinking?"

"I heard Queen's still in town. We could try to look for 'em. Maybe I can get Freddie to sign my chest." Andrew said, stroking his chest sensually.

"You sound like a groupie." she chuckled.

"Listen, you're the famous one, not me. I can be as whorish as I want."

With a roll of her eyes, Ellie picked up her hamper, walking off to the laundry room with it to get started on her clothes.

☆

Later that evening, after Andrew had gone home, Ellie picked up the phone. She held it in her hand for a second before hanging up the receiver. Looking at the clock, the blonde noticed it was only 6pm. A drive would be nice. She thought to herself.

Grabbing her sunglasses and a coat—it was unusually cold for April—and took her keys from the table by the front door as she made her way over to her car.

Deciding she'd go down to West Hollywood and stop at her manager's office, Ellie took the long way and chose to take her time while driving.

Turning on the radio, she just caught the beginning of "Help Me" by Joni Mitchell. She turned the volume a bit louder and relaxed against the driver's seat; letting the California sun hit her face and a slight breeze come in through the window. She forgot about everything that'd been on her mind as she drove down the highway, taking in the music and bobbing her head along to the beat.

Taking a turn onto Santa Monica Boulevard, Ellie observed the tons of stores and people that littered the sidewalk. As she slowed to a stop at a red light, she took a look across the street to find a particular head of bleach-blond hair. Rolling down the window some more and pulling her sunglasses down, Ellie's suspicions were confirmed.

"Roger!" She exclaimed without thinking. Her heart dropped to her ass at the realization that she'd just publicly yelled at someone she'd only met twice before. "Shit." she whispered under her breath.

"Ellie?" Roger asked in response. He was visibly leaning over and lowering his own sunglasses to be able see the singer inside her car.

"I thought you went back home!" Ellie said, nervously glancing between Roger and the stoplight.

"No! I hung around! The guys went back home," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I've been calling you!"

"I've been away! I should've told you! I just got back!"

Another glance at the light.

"Can I call you later?"

"Sure!" Ellie exclaimed when the loud blaring of a car horn behind her caused her to jump in her seat. She waved a quick goodbye to Roger before going on her way. It wasn't until she caught her breath that she realized she'd been holding it. She shook her head and took another deep breath, continuing down the street.

☆

"Carolyn'll see you now." The receptionist said. Ellie stood up, now with her coat and sunglasses off, she felt a bit more at ease. She said a quick thank you to the receptionist before letting herself into the office.

"Ellie! Sit down, babe." Carolyn said cheerfully. "You said April 1st."

"I got a little caught up in some personal stuff."

"I hope nothing too bad. You didn't overdo it on the blow did you?"

"No, no. I promise, Care. That's one thing you'll never have to worry about with me."

"I better not. Don't need you dying on me or anything. How was your trip?"

"It was great! Jimmy and I got some alone time, it was nice. I met his daughter. Absolute sweetheart."

"You didn't get knocked up, did you?" Carolyn asked, furrowing her brows at her.

Ellie practically jumped in her seat, her eyes widened, "No! I don't—why would you—?"

"Oh my God, you got knocked up didn't you? You were there for barely three weeks, Ellie!"

"I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow. I'll call you as soon as I can to let you know how it went. I just don't want to think about it right now." Ellie sighed, not wanting to think about her worst fears for another second.

"Fine. Let's see if the record company needs anything from you." Carolyn replied, flipping through a notebook that was sitting on her desk before looking back up at her, "I need you to get a song out, or even an album. Tell me you did something other than screw around with your boyfriend on your trip."

"I started a song, then I kind of abandoned it when I had an idea for a different one...it's a bit personal so it'll definitely be on the slower side, I think." Ellie explained.

"Got a name?"

"Uhh, it doesn't have one yet."

"Is it finished?"

"Nearly."

"Alright, well. Finish it by this week and we can get you in the studio in two weeks."

"I'll try." Ellie replied.

☆

Ellie sat hunched over her songbook scribbling a few words down and crossing out others. She chewed on her pencil, staring at her thoughts on the page. The blonde hadn't thought about the song she'd written while at Jimmy's house in a while.

Trying to hum out the tune she'd created, Ellie was about to run and grab her guitar upstairs when the phone rang; this stopping her in her tracks. Detouring to the phone, she quickly picked it up off the receiver, "Hello?"

"Ellie?" the man on the other line asked, his voice identifiable immediately as Roger's.

"Hi, Roger." she said, the smile on her face audible in her voice.

"Hey, how've you been?" he asked. "You went missing for a bit there."

"Yeah, I'm doing okay, I went to England with Jimmy for a few weeks. He played host for me for once." She joked, twirling the phone cord in her fingers.

"Oh wow, was it your first time?"

"No, not at all. I go back to visit him quite often, actually. When I'm not busy, of course."

"Right, right. Uhhh, listen, I was about to grab a bite to eat. Did you want to come with me by any chance? Unless you've eaten already, then it's a redundant question." Roger added quickly to the end of his invitation.

Ellie hesitated at her answer, although she didn't know why, "...Sure! Yeah, I was just gonna wind up making some macaroni and cheese anyway, so, I guess it's better to go get an...actual meal." She replied. Her answer was painfully awkward and she physically cringed at her response.

"Okay, great! So I'll come by in a few to pick you up. Say, 8:30 ish, if that's okay with you?"

She glanced at the clock, 7:55pm. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you then!"

The two said their goodbyes and hung up. Then, when Ellie started on her way upstairs—again—the phone rang again. It was Roger, realizing he'd never asked for her address. They had a laugh about it before Ellie told him the information and she went to get ready.

---

masterlist | playlist

Taglist: @diaryofafan17 @tophats-n-lespauls @witchesdust @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 @hejustsatisfiess @salixfragilis @princesspagey @reincarnated70sbaby @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @kyunisixx if you want to be added to the list lmk!

2-12-21

7-13-21

[ziracona]

What do you see happening after Josh is being rescued? Does he meet everyone of his friend eventually or some of them keep their distance? I read one of your answers about them abandoning him and honestly I don't think they didn't care at all about him, but the events were so traumatic and scary that they probably had a hard time taking into consideration that small possibility of him being alive. Plus I guess it's also part of the smooth flow of the game if it makes sense, Mike doesn't go after Jess either after he sees her falling into the mines and accuses Josh of killing her without being 100% sure that she is dead and without seeing Josh around when shit happened to her. But if I were Josh maybe I would be upset knowing they didn't come for me at all. So how would a reunion go?

That’s valid! You can interpret the lack of an interest in rescuing Josh to multiple things—that they are very sure he’s dead, if you want to be as generous as possible to them. That they think he’s probably dead and are afraid of dying too more than willing to save him, that they’re (sans Chris) too mad about the prank he pulled, etc. And I can see why people would go for any number of them. I think to me it has always read like they think he is probably dead, and the whatever he has, 30%, 20% chance? Of still being alive just isn’t enough for them to feel motivated to face very likely death to go hunting for him, especially with flamethrower dude just dead doing the same. Which makes /me/ angry, because Mike went batshit after seeing Jess wounded and dragged through a window and more trying to save her, multiple characters can kill themselves trying to save the others in the finale, etc, and I just think if you /can/ save someone who is your friend—or like, you have a shot anyway—you don’t know it is too late. You should. (& true Jess can still be alive and Mike will assume she is dead, but in his defense, so do basically all blind playthroughs she looks like she falls four stories or something while already almost dead I can’t fault Mike for assuming that was a 100% death there. Boy really tried. Whereas Josh’s vanishing from the shed is much less confirmed. There is no ‘I watched him fall’ here. Just a neither he nor his dead body were still in the shed so /something/ happened). Like I do get it, that’s a terrifying situation and not helping doesn’t = not caring, but I will hold it against characters if they don’t risk themselves to save their friends and I will be unhappy with them. Loyalty is very important to me. But it is a truly terrifying situation.

But I also get why they’d be terrified to go out there. I don’t think it makes them evil to not want to risk it till they have to, it just makes me disappointed in them. I don’t think I said I think they didn’t care about him—typo if I did, because I certainly don’t think that at all! I think Chris was traumatized and felt very sure he was dead, Ashley didn’t care (she explicitly says she thinks he deserves it and tries to stop Chris from saving him the first time), Emily doesn’t care a lot one way or another and is mostly on her own trauma right now and thinking about Matt and the awful shit she saw, that Sam does care but thinks he is probably dead and is in team mom mode and cares more about trying to keep as many friends alive as possible right now than anything else and doesn’t want to lose the others, and Mike is still pissed but also feels very bad and would prefer for Josh to make it but is also more focused on group survival and not losing anyone else since he just lost someone he loves horribly (based largely on how his reaction to the safe room scenario is either to kill Emily and feel awful but do it because he very vocally and visibly doesn’t want the others to be killed and she won’t go peacefully, and he’s terrified of losing them, or to try but not be able to because he loves Emily, and instead give the gun to the others to try to save themselves with in the event she /does/ turn). And although he’s a right coward bastard for leaving Josh if Josh gets grabbed instead of killed, down in the mines, I do think he cared about Josh. He seems truly sorry to some extent when he finds him, and does /try/ to lead him out of the mines. At the point they make the decision to go for the cable car key, I don’t think they don’t care at all, except Ashley. I just think they should care more. Although I tend to give Chris a pass because he just watched a man get beheaded, has strong reason to think Josh is dead, is injured, and spends the entire rest of the game more or less in traumatized mode quiet in the corner.

But that said I can also see why people would interpret the reactions to mean they all believe he is very dead, and mean they’re going after his corpse! I can see lots of basis in-game to interpret in quite a number of ways. And be generous to the fool kids if you want to! I /super/ hold abandoning Josh in the mines wildly against Mike, but Mike is still one of my favorite characters in the whole game. I love how flawed the cast is and that you go in hating most of them and only slowly grow to care because you don’t want them dead-dead, which keeps you there long enough to see some of their good sides. *cheff’s kiss* the great ability of the horror genre. The bar to initially invest is so low, it lets you have such a multi-faceted cast.

Okay anyway, original question! What do I see happening after Josh gets rescued and exorcised.

I think he meets up with all of them again eventually. Interesting to think from Josh’s pov how he’s going to feel. I expect to some degree he does feel abandoned, and fairly, and in RoB it is very clear he is afraid to some extent of Mike and Chris after being dragged off and tied up and left in the shed, and the things they said to him. He also /definitely/ feels massively guilty and self-blaming about all of it. He’s telling himself through Hill that no one will come for him and it’s his own fault by the final chapter. And mostly he’s just afraid of Mike and in ptsd dissociating mode by the time Sam and Mike find him. So, mixed feelings on his part I expect. Lots of fear and pain and hurt at being abandoned and so universally believed capable of murder, hurt, left to die alone in the mines. Pretty damn betrayed, and that on top of the hurt from what happened to his sisters and the inherent paranoia of paranoid schizophrenia. Hurt that they just left him. Hurt they didn’t believe him. Hurt nobody came for him until it was too late. Hurt he got betrayed again. Probably pretty miserable overall. But with that, also feels really bad about going too far and hates and blames himself intensely for everything, and I expect is also kind of not just traumatized but ashamed of what happens to him, and everyone knowing about the possession and the cannibalism. Probably he wants to lock himself in a room in the corner of a big house and never come out. But also is intensely and miserably and hopelessly lonely. Probably feels all of his friendships are likely broken beyond repair.

I don’t think they are though. Chris “I’m not your bro” six seconds later “bro are you for real?” Hartley almost dies trying to save him and wouldn’t care about the possession stuff except to be worried about him. Sam is angry and harboring some resentment, but clearly reacts to Mike reporting he is gone with regret. Mike would probably feel very guilty for leaving him and be hesitant to reconnect and then defensive doing it, but I think he cares. Jess wasn’t even there for this shit so probably she does. Same for Matt maybe? Ashley and Emily are harder to guess for. I think Ashley would be incredibly angry and resentful—I mean she wants him dead in-game, but might eventually join the others if the others got over stuff? Bc she’s also kinda a joiner? Really it’s hard to say she is a very...hair-trigger character. Volatile and intensely and massively changeable. Probably the least predictable of all. That kind of person scares me deeply in real life because I have been very backstabbed by them before. >.> But anyway hard to say. Also a lot of this depends on what ending, even assuming they all live. But I usually assume that like, Mike almost shot Em, didn’t, Matt tried to save her, Sam saw the workshop, etc ending. Emily I really don’t know. She’s a very self-reliant and hard person. She didn’t have anything very specifically for or against Josh with her experience, but wasn’t that close to him before, so I think she just kinda falls wherever she falls.

I think mostly though that they’d reconnect. Definitely Chris would jump to it, and I think Sam would too—she’s a well educated, empathetic and understanding person. She’d know he needs her. And Chris is his childhood best friend and cares the whole game. I think Mike would try to go too because of guilt, and because he’s a decent guy. Probably so would after not much time those least effected by what Josh did. I think Josh would be alone while being exorcised and probably reocvering in a hospital some after, and Chris would be the first, or Chris and Sam possibly. I think he’d be afraid to see them, and it would be complicated and messy and painful for them all, but it would be okay and sort itself out and they’d find old ground quickly. And having them there would be /incredibly/ vital to helping him recover. I think eventually he’d get back on his feet, and a lot of his old friends would be around and stay in his life. I think things would get better. I’d say the OG ExorJosh comic writer I think did a good job of guessing about what a lot of it would be like. Hard, and slow, and messy. But a lot of them care for him, and I think that would matter enough to help things get okay between them again.

[drethanramslay]

Without You

Pairing: Logan x MC (Lexi Cahill)

Masterlist

Word count: 2.5 K words

Warning: Just a little cursing, here and there and Angst

MC is actually not present in this fic, this is Logan's POV, four months after he had to leave LA

Author's note: I decided to take part in @rodappreciationweek so here is my submission :)) 

Thanks to @choicesarehard @brightpinkpeppercorn and @client-327 for hosting this 💙

Thanks to @mvalentine for pre-reading it❤️❤️

Title inspiration: Without You by Avicii (ft. Sandro Cavazza)

Song: Gone by Blake Rose

Forgive me if I make any mistakes.

The rays of the sun spilled through the crack in my curtains, making the white walls a yellow hue. My eyes were bleary and red rimmed. It had just been moments since I woke up and my hangover struck me like a train wreck, a familiar electric pain behind my eyes.

I shouldn't have drank so much.

I moved my head to only see an an empty bed side. Of course she left. Who would want to stick around after a one night stand?

The hazy memories of last night filtered through my head, making me wince. Another night, another rave, another tray of shots and another chick to bang.

You could call it saturday shenanigans but, this was different.

Everything was different since I left her.

All my days just seem to melt away into a haze of alcohol and drugs... Today, tomorrow, yesterday seems to fuse into this neverending torture, an ache which no matter how much I drink or how many girls I fuck, never fucking ceases to hurt. The only thing which can fix this gaping wound in my heart is Lexi.

But she is not here.

And never will be.

So this is how it has been for the past weeks. Me getting inebriated to new extremes just to numb the pain and to temporarily erase the loneliness before I become sober again.

Because when I'm in those intoxicated wastelands, I'm so out of it that I can almost hallucinate her dancing with me. I can almost smell her strawberry shampoo, tickling my nose. I can almost hear her tinkling laugh.

And in my alcohol induced sleep, I dream of her in my arms the both of us fitting together, like two jigsaw puzzles.

I despise being sober. Because when I am In my senses, the entire load of loss weighs down on me, crushing me and suffocating me. The 'could have been's' and the regret are all a heavy burden on my shoulders.

A small part of me is often wishing, praying and hoping that things could just go back to normal but, deep in my gut I know, that nothing is ever going to be the same again.

Nothing is ever going to be the same, now that she was gone...

How much time does it take to get over people?

It may be a day, a week, a month or a year. There is no definitive time span for getting over someone you loved, someone you cherished or someone who was close to your heart.

I think it depends on how much of an impact the said person had on you or how much of a void that person left in you.

I was the wild and carefree guy, with no strings attached and never saw myself being the one to fall in love because... Let's admit it, love is a vulnerability, a weakness which people don't hesitate to exploit.

But fast forward to four months later, I am in the same category as those emotional pussies crying over a breakup.

Being brought up in foster homes made me grow up quickly. Some houses were good and caring whilst some were harsh. And knowing that I am the most cursed person to walk the earth, I was always was stuck with the shitty households.

Don't believe me? I still have those scars from the fights and the beatings.

Growing up in such a hostile environment, taught me that there is no room for weakness or error and that love and feelings are just some fairy tale myth which is made by philosophical fools to give you a sense of hope.

But, hope is a dangerous thing, two side of the same coin. It can make you and break you.

I don't think I would have survived my childhood but... That's when I fell in love with cars.

It holds a special place in my heart.

The way my adrenaline spikes as the pointer on my speedometer achieves unattainable speeds, the way I feel the purr of my engine resound through my entire body and they way it's just me, my car and the open road... Nobody could ever compare to that sensation of freedom.

Well, that was before I met her.

Lexi Cahill.

I admit it started off as a way to recruit her as an informant, a tool to stay out of prison, another heart to break.

But little did I know that life would pull the fucking reverse uno card on me. But, I'm low-key glad it did.

It's been 4 months since that scum bag was thrown into the jail.

Four months since the crew went its separate ways.

Four months since I walked away from her.

I don't want to let you go...

Those words were on a repeat in his head, like a broken tape recorder and her teary eyes and broken expression is forever burnt into his brain. It was so hard to let her go. The one time I found a reason to stay, a reason to fight for, a reason to stop running, life just fucked it all up.

It was a tussle, a war between what my heart wanted and the logical side of me which just left me exhausted.

In conclusion, heartbreak sucks.

I reach for my phone and switch it on to check the time. But my eyes fall on our prom photo which I had made as my wallpaper. It's really stupid how head over heels I'm in love with her.

But it's the truth.

There is a saying that life gives you only one great love and that many people go for years without that.

I was one of the few lucky people to get that at 18.

But life is not sunflowers and unicorns shitting rainbows. It's rough, it's hard with its a mix of ups and downs. But it seems like mine is set to be on the all time low.

Staggering to the bathroom, I heavily leaned against the counter, my muscles flexing as I gripped the edge. My eyes lifted to see my reflection staring back at me.

I look like a hot mess.

This isn't you Logan... My inner conscience said, which eerily sounded like her.

God, I really must be losing it, huh?

Slowly and painfully I started my morning chores, my body on auto pilot. My mind kept on wandering to Lexi. She would be in Langston by now.

Would she be in that off shoulder sweater of hers, her feather tattoo peaking from underneath the sleeve? Would she be highlighting and colour coordinating her notes like she always did?

Would she have made new friends? Or dare I say a new boyfriend?

Logan stop hurting yourself. I said to myself as I visibly cringed at the thought of someone else having their arms around her.

The idea of someone else kissing her soft lips or someone else holding her hands or someone else running his hands along the curvature of her naked back made me equal parts angry and sad.

Angry for you know, obvious reasons but sad for the life I had to leave behind in LA.

God I hate this existential crisis shit... It's to early to question life.

I dragged myself in the direction of the kitchen, the smell of bacon waking me up. I was shirtless and wearing a pair of sweatpants because I was too fucking tired to wear anything else.

"Look who has decided to grace us with their presence."

"Shut up Carl, it's too early for your bullshit." Raven said as she slapped the top of his head.

I shot her a look of gratitude as I sank into my seat and reached for the plate of pancakes.

Carl and Raven were the closest thing to parents for me. Carl was a tough man with huge muscles, around six feet tall but, he was as goofy as a child. Raven was his girlfriend who was hella intimidating. The kohl lined eyes and the floral tattoo on the side of her shaven head made her look fierce. Both of them were in their early thirties and ran the Detroit Central crew.

We three were in a different crew when I was 15 and they really took a liking for me. They taught me everything I know and they are the family that I always came back too.

I dug into my breakfast, eating slowly and savouring the sweetness of the maple syrup.

"Thank god you are atleast eating now." Raven said as she ruffled my hair and turned towards the sink.

I shrugged and Carl picked up the newspaper to read, settling into his seat. Suddenly, the bell rang which had all of our backs becoming as stiff as a rod.

"Were you expecting someone, darlin'?" Raven asked, trying to peak through the windows.

"Don't get up, I'll do it." Carl said as he picked up the gun on the counter and pushed it into the back pocket of his cargo pants.

I was frozen, terrified. I had been very careful in escaping but me being the reckless fool and getting drunk seven ways to Sunday may have tipped them off.

I'm such a colossal dumbass.

I could hear Carl's gruff voice talking but I couldn't peek at the person on the other side of the door. I just sank further into my seat, hoping that it was some lost person and not the FBI.

"Boy this one's for you." He moved aside and the person I least expected to see walked in.

"You look like shit."

"Good morning to you too, asshole." I rolled my eyes.

Colt walked into the kitchen, wearing his trademark leather jackets and dark jeans. His combat boots made a thud sound with each step which made my headache worse.

"Will you be okay, Lo-lo?" Raven asked, her eyes flitting to the jerk standing in her kitchen.

Colt snorted at the nickname but luckily kept his mouth shut.

"Yep Ra. Meet Colt Kaneko. Colt meet Raven and Carl." I spoke at I stood up and put my dirty dishes in the sink.

"Oh you are Kaneko's boy, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"We heard about what went down in LA. Our condolences. He was a great man."

He gave a nod. It was a sore subject for me as well. That night in the alley, I wished I could take it back. I usually am not one to regret what I spew but whatever I said to Kaneko is another burden I'm gonna carry all my life.

"Also heard about your crew busted the Brotherhood? You were the mastermind behind it right?" Carl said as he crossed his arms.

"As much as I would love to take the credit, it was Lexi who came up with the plan." Colt said his eyes darted towards me, gauging my reaction.

"The newbie? Heard she drives like the wind-"

Hearing her name felt like an iron fist clenching my heart. That name will always be the source of my happiness, my cherished memories and my melancholy.

"Colt let's take this to the backyard, shall we?" Logan spoke up, interrupting them.

He walked to the back door and Colt followed him wordlessly. It a sunny day but a cool breeze blew which provided some kind of relief.

I reached to take out two beers from the cooler and handed him one. Colt raised an eyebrow.

"Beer... At ten in the morning?"

I shrugged as I popped the bottle cap off mine. "It's 5pm somewhere else."

"That's true too. Cheers." We clinked the necks of our bottles and took a sip as we sat down on the patio chairs.

I turned towards him. "So what brings you to Detroit?"

"To see your pretty face?" Colt said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.

I snorted. "Always knew you had a thing for me, pretty boy."

"Always knew that you had an ego the size of Jupiter, dickhead. Some things just don't change."

I sighed. "Can't say the same for me through. Everything is different now."

Surprisingly, Colt didn't mock him. He stared down at the bottle in his hands. "Yeah... I can understand. How are you holding up?" He asked as he turned to face me.

I took a huge gulp of my beer before responding, my eyes staring at the mango tree in my neighbor's back yard.

"Not too good. It's been hard for the last couple of months. Kaneko's death, leaving LA and maintaining a low profile... It's been tough."

Life without Lexi is tough.

"Yeah I can understand. I still imagine pops opening the door to wake me up. And don't get me started on the FBI... bunch of bloodsuckers." He muttered the last part.

I snorted. "I'll drink to that."

"Good thing they are off our backs now." Colt spoke eyeing him from the corner of his eyes.

I scoffed. "Bitch please. They are anything but lazy. They are gonna continue hunting us down till the end of time."

"I meant that we are not the top priorities at the moment. Sure Mona was sent to jail but, a little birdie told me that they are after this 'world class' thief at the moment."

"That's a relief I guess."

"Do you know what this means?" He asked taking another sip of beer.

"It's too early for my brain to function. Come to the point, asshole."

"We are rebuilding the crew, dickhead."

My eyes widened. "No way."

"Yup." He said popping the 'p'. He downed the remainder of his beer before standing up. "I'm done repairing the garage. We have a job in two months and I need a crew for that. I already have Ximena on board and now I'm gonna go over to Toby's."

My mind was swimming. Mercy Park Crew was coming back for good.

I looked up at him, suddenly nervous. "What about Lexi?"

He rolled his eyes. "When I said I'm rebuilding the crew, I also meant recruiting Lexi, dumbass."

Oh god.

She is going to come back.

I was frozen in my place once again. I had often asked myself how I would react if I got the chance to meet her again. I always imagined that I would let out the loudest cheer and dance like a mad man.

But this is reality and my thundering heart was a reminder of that.

"Why are you sitting there with your mouth open like a fish? Go! Get your girl."

And that was it. I rushed to my room, put on some decent clothes and haphazardly stuffed my things into my satchel. Grabbing my keys and yelling a quick good bye to Raven and Carl, I was out and in my 2005 Devore GT.

Reving the engine I took off on the roads of Detroit, heading for the highway.

The window was open and the breeze threaded through my unruly hair, making me feel alive. My hands clutched the wheel and my foot pressed down on the accelerator, speeding through the empty streets.

For the first time, in a very long, the roads which felt like a never ending maze for me, were the very ones which were the path to my freedom.

The path to my happiness.

The path to my Lexi.

I hope you liked it 😊

Logan x mc: @kaavyaethanramsey @openheart @skylarklyon @shadowycreatorpaperopera @pixelberryownsme @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor @anotherbeingsworld​

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