#i feel like one thing that makes me and my brother easier is keeping lists of cds and dvds we want (and books for me idt he reads much)

[thelightsandtheroses]

one: florida!!!!

Call It What You Want | Frankie Morales x OFC

Summary: Daisy never expected to move to Florida but recovering from burnout in the sunshine state seems a good enough plan. Years after the death of her estranged half-brother, Tom, she finds herself agreeing to move in with Frankie Morales, Tom’s former army colleague and friend. Falling for her roommate, who is definitely keeping secrets about your brother’s death, may not be the best way to ensure a fresh start, or is it actually what they both needed all along? Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog MDNI, mentions of previous canon death and grief, references to corporate burnout Word Count: 3.7k Notes: Please note I am not from Florida, or even the US, so there’s a degree of creative license here, What I know about firefighting probably comes from 9-1-1, other firefighter shows, or google so please don’t think this is gong to be an accurate depiction of the Florida FD for Frankie. It’s fic, babes, let’s let me be a little self-indulgent. This is a rewrite of my first fic which felt too fast, too angsty and not the story I wanted to tell for a concept I really loved. It’s seen some considerable changes since then while retaining several themes, but I am so excited to share this and particularly this version of Frankie who has been rotting my brain for months and months 🔥 🔥🫠

Series Masterlist | Next. | A03

Palm trees, beaches and viral memes. That’s what I’ve always associated with Florida. It never struck me as a potential place I would make my home. I thought I might vacation there one day perhaps; some time in a distant future when I had a real grown-up life and family and we would go to the theme parks, buy overpriced merchandise and fried food and take cheesy photos before flying or driving home.

It’s funny how things work out though, isn’t it?

I pull into the apartment block with trepidation.

This is the fourteenth apartment I’ve viewed this week. Fourteen. I thought the market back in Chicago was bad but this is a whole new hellscape, or maybe it was easier because I knew more people back then. College roommates turn into post-college roommates and your circle is fully formed. It means you have people when you need to find a new place, there’s a whisper network, friends of friends.

I don’t have that anymore.

I want it though. I miss it.

I think I miss it.

The advert says that this listing is for a single room and the apartment is occupied by a group of young professional women. It’s the best option I’ve come across yet in my browsing of online postings which has taken me through several levels of Dante’s inferno. Facebook is just one above Craigslist in the hierarchy of the internet hellscapes I’ve seen recently.  One guy asked for my shoe size and asked if I routinely wore high heels before I could view the apartment. Safe to say, that one went off the list extremely quickly. It was a shame though - that listing had a double room and balcony, but I think I can see why it’s been listed for over sixty days now.

I haven’t had a roommate since college and this whole process has been a soul-crushing exercise on my already fragile self esteem. I don’t think I can take much more of this.

I take a deep breath. I’ve got this. I will find a room so I can move out of Molly’s and do something, anything with my life. Anything that’s not just existing in this strange purgatory I’ve found myself in. I’m potentially placing too much importance on the apartment here, but it’s a symbol, an omen.

It’s a fresh start. A signal to the universe that I’m here, that I’m doing something.

I feel like everything else I’m hoping and dreaming of can’t even start unless I have an apartment, and I can’t afford my own apartment and start a business so I need to find a roommate.

Maybe this is finally the one.

“It was so bad, Benny,” I say, taking a glug of lukewarm beer. “It was like being in high school over again, but worse. Infinitely worse!”

“Worse?” Benny tilts his head as he asks the question, something that only heightens my association between him and golden retrievers.

“Yes, because I’m not sixteen with a promise it’ll get better when I ‘find my people’ in college. This sucks. What was I thinking? Clearly I wasn’t. Maybe I should have stayed …” I trail off awkwardly.

“You were thinking that Florida is the perfect place to start over, which it is, Daisy,” he replies confidently.

Benny and his brother, Will, have played a considerable part in my move here. They served with my half-brother Tom.

Tom died more than five years ago - I don’t really know much about how it happened, Tom and I weren’t particularly close. There was an age difference, I sometimes felt he didn’t want me as a sister. I was only a reminder of his own parents’ relationship breakdown after all. I wish I could say we had that sibling bond but we didn’t. It’s clear to me his real siblings were the men in his team - he was their brother.

After his death though, Will kept in touch with me. I wondered if he thought he needed to fill a gap from Tom, if there was a sense of responsibility there. Tom never called me though except for birthdays and Christmas. I haven’t told Will that though.

It’s been nice feeling like I have a big brother. The irony isn’t lost on me that I feel this the most once my actual big brother is dead.

Will encouraged me to move down here, as did Molly, Tom’s ex-wife. They said I needed a fresh start and maybe they’re right.

I can’t remember the last time I felt like me. I’m not even sure what that feels like now, who I’m supposed to be and who I am really.

Florida seems a good place for reinvention though, for something new. I’m closer to the beach, to weekends spent with my toes scrunched in the sand as I sip coffee and read books. Days spent with Benny and Will

“Hey Benny,” A voice calls as I hear the front door open.

“We’re in here.“

“You remember Frankie, right?” Benny asks casually. “Tom woulda called him Catfish?”

“Uh, sure.” I don’t but I won’t admit to that. I remember the name vaguely, but that’s all. Tom wasn’t big on the details of his life with me.

“You probably saw him at the wake last,” Benny adds.

Even if it hadn’t been four years ago since I last saw him, all I can remember of Tom’s funeral is a procession of strangers and the continual vibration of my work phone as I stood in a strange graveyard. That whole day was a stark reminder of the distance between us, that my own blood was a ghost to me even when he was alive. It bought me Molly, Tess and Will though.

Frankie walks in. He’s a little older than Benny but younger than Tom was. He’s all dark eyes and curls peeking out through a battered baseball cap; softly tanned skin and that smile … that smile is something. If he could bottle that up and sell it, I’m pretty sure he’d find a captive market.

“Frankie, you remember Daisy, right? She’s moved here,” Benny says. “She’s starting a coffee van.”

“Uh - yeah.” Frankie has no clue who I am, but his efforts to conceal that are admirable. “Now you mention it, Will might have said something about that. You’re uh, staying with Molly for now, right? You were in Boston before?” I nod, wondering what Will has exactly said to Frankie about my move. “A coffee van?”

“Eventually,” I add nervously, “It’s a whole process. So, I’m actually just temping for now while I get things sorted.” I have no idea why I’ve told him that, why I still want to introduce myself based on my career, on my outward accomplishments. I’m almost surprised I haven't tried to find an old business card in my pocket or referred him to my LinkedIn profile where it neatly lists all my employable skills and experience.

 Daisy is highly skilled in project management, board engagement, data analysis  and most of all completely falling apart all of the time, but she makes a mean slide deck. Plus, guess what, she’s open to work!

“Oh, right, cool.”

“Frankie works for the fire department. He’s a firefighter pilot now,” Benny says. “Out here making me look bad.”

“Aw, I keep telling you don’t need my job to do that, Benny.”

Benny laughs heartily and throws a cushion at Frankie who catches it with ease and a raised eyebrow.

“Well, that’s definitely cooler than paperwork and admin.”

“Not really,” Frankie says, “I mean, it’s not really cool if you know what I mean.”

“Oh,” you say with a groan, “that might be the most dad joke I’ve heard.”

“It’s a classic though,” he replies lightly. “You got a soda, Benny?”

“Fridge. Wait, I just had a brilliant idea,” Benny suddenly interjects with a grin. “I mean, I’m a genius.”

“Oh yeah?” Frankie asks, one eyebrow quirking up. “About soda?”

“No, no, no. You need a roommate, right?”

“Yes?” Frankie replies slowly with the seasoned reluctance of someone who knows exactly what Benny’s brilliant ideas usually result in.

“Daze needs a room, you need a solid roommate, voila!” Benny makes a complicated hand gesture and smiles widely.

It seems too simple, too obvious but despite the terrible apartment earlier, my heart races as I wonder what if Benny’s onto something.

“Benny, I’m sure Daisy would -”

“How soon is it available?” I ask.

“Uh, immediately. My last roommate moved in with his boyfriend, which is great for him, but I’ve been struggling to find anyone suitable for it since then.”

“Suitable?” Immediately flashbacks of the weird Craigslist ads come back to me, please don’t say Frankie is going to say something odd. “What do you mean, suitable?” I really hope Frankie isn’t actually the weird shoe size guy from Craigslist.

“I have a kid who stays with me regularly. I need someone I can trust, someone safe to be around him, and someone who’s not going to be a …”

“Frankie wanted to mandate a background check,” Benny interrupts, before raising his hands at Frankie’s expression. “I said I got it! Perhaps, if you interrogated people less though ….”

“I’m not gonna apologise for prioritising my kid.”

“So, do I need a background check to apply then?”

“Nah,” Benny says, “you’re Tom’s sister, right Frankie?”

There’s a comforting weight to his words. The conviction in his voice, the simple answer that takes it for granted that maybe I’m not one of them, but I’m adjacent at least. It feels unfamiliar. I’ve never been Tom’s sister, not to Tom at least.

I feel as though I’m wearing someone else’s skin, another identity, and it’s alien but comforting. It’s an identity I never knew I could wear. One I never even knew was an option.

“You’re actually considering this then?” Frankie asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well, yeah. Benny’s heard all about my nightmare of an apartment hunt so far… unless, I mean. If you don’t want to then that’s fine.”

“Alright Tom’s sister,” Frankie begins with a soft smile.

“Daisy.”

“Daisy. “I’ll send you the info. let me know whether you’re still interested then. No pressure.” His voice is honey smooth, low and there’s something else.

His eyes.

They’re kind. Soulful even.

“I’m interested,” I say without thinking. “I’m definitely interested.”

Of course life isn’t as simple as just being interested in the apartment and one magically falling into my hands. Frankie texts me the information which is sadly towards the top end of my truly pitiful budget but includes a double room, furnishings and the apartment has a balcony which in itself is a big reason enough to say yes. I instantly conjure up a romantic image of me sipping from a steaming mug of coffee in the mornings, watching the sunrise.

It’s farcical. I hate the sunrise, or at least being up at that time. I’m not a morning person at the best of times. 

Frankie says there’s a beach view from the balcony though … if you squint, lean one arm and twist at a very precise angle. It’s something he has advised he doesn’t recommend without exceptional health insurance though so that’s definitely off the table for now. He mentioned it’s close enough that the landlord said it was a coastal view but it’s clearly not really.

Texting him feels so easy - there’s a lightness to the conversation, even as we talk about something as serious as becoming roommates. It’s why I’ve agreed to this - the next step and the one that is now filling me with dread.

The coffee shop we decided to meet at is halfway between his place and Molly’s. I haven’t been here before but I mentally take notes of the roast, of the general ambience. The brownies look amazing - the perfect combination of a fudgy middles and the solid crackly top that immediately calls to me.

It’s a neutral space though, one where we can finally make a decision of am I becoming Frankie’s roommate or not.

I think I want to.

I really can’t take another week of Craigslist -especially after watching that true crime documentary last night.

I twist the empty sugar packet into a knot, only looking up as the doorbell chimes. I see Frankie immediately.

He’s wearing a baseball cap, dark hair curling out from underneath and the Florida FD hoodie he’s wearing looks particularly well worn, comfortable. I can almost imagine how it smells.

No. No. This is a roommate negotiation.

���Hey,” Frankie says as I stand up to greet him. I immediately panic - is this a hug situation, that feels too familiar, but a handshake feels like an awkward callback to my corporate days. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.

“Oh, you already ordered?” Frankie asks.

“Yeah, sorry, I got here a bit early. Overestimated the traffic. I haven’t been here long.” Frankie looks at my almost empty mug of coffee, cocking one eyebrow.

“No worries. Do you mind if I grab a drink though? Want another?”

“Oh no, I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay.”

He walks over to the counter and I sit down and watch him carefully. This is a test really, an opportunity to try and work out his personality further. Does he talk to the barista? Is he cold or insufferable? Is he rude? These are all qualities I should be able quickly establish in just a few moments. Mum always taught me to notice these things on a date, to tease out those basics in the early days. Not that it’s foolproof. Not always at least.

Frankie seems. pleasant though, laughing with the barista but there’s almost a shyness about him. I don’t get it. From how Benny described him - a pilot, a firefighter pilot no less, I would have expected him to be as extroverted as Benny.

Frankie’s a surprise though. There’s a quietness to him, a slow and careful evaluation in each glance, in how he takes in the cafe around us as he sits opposite me. He’s assessing everything too and it occurs to me that as much as I’ve set this meeting up to work out if I can live with him, he’s doing the exact same thing.

The people pleaser in me instantly calls to attention, ready to perform and be perfect, be liked. To succeed. Automatically I straighten my posture, try and remember my very best table manners. I prepare to perform.

“What’s your poison?” I ask, which is a phrase I never use and an immediate sign I need to shift out of performance mode.

“Just an Americano.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t approve?”

“no, I guess it’s fine. I mean, I would personally recommend a pour-over and filter coffee than a watered down espresso. Something like a V60 or a -”

“I see what Benny meant about the coffee truck.”

“I’m not judging!”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, only judging a tiny bit. Mostly I’m rambling. I’m just - I’ve never got the watered down espresso thing.”

“It’s got two extra shots in if that helps,” he confides with a smirk, “I was on shift yesterday.”

“Oh, we could have arranged this for later -”

“It’s fine. The shift wasn’t too bad, even got a few hours sleep!” Frankie empties sugar into his coffee and smiles up at me.

“How did you end up in the FD then? I don’t – I don’t remember it from before.”

Frankie pauses, twisting the empty sugar packet in his hands. The silence holds just long enough I worry I need to change the conversation before he speaks. “A couple of years ago I needed a change. It’s been good, much better than commercial helicopter flights for rich people.”

“Making a difference?”

“Trying to.” A ghost passes over his eyes. I immediately realise the link - Tom. His death. Was that the trigger for Frankie joining the fire department?

“Anyway, the apartment -” Frankie starts, reaching for his phone, “I took some new photos this morning.”

His wallpaper is him with a small boy. His son. I take in the wide toothy smile on his photo, the bright shine in his eyes and the same features I can see in Frankie, accompanied by a head full of brown curls.

“Felix,” Frankie says, a soft smile on his face.

“He looks like you.”

“Poor kid.”

“No, I mean - uh, how old is he?”

“Four and a half. He stays with me on alternate weekends, if I’m off shift, and sometimes in the week if his mom’s working late or something. A lot of it depends on my work patterns but that’s the general rule of thumb.” He wrings his hands together and I wonder what the story is there.

I have limited experience with children to say the least.

I’ve reached that point where half of my friends are parents, sharing photo after photo on their social media and speaking a whole new language. In contrast, the rest of my friends appear still mentally stuck in their early twenties party mindset. I’ve never been sure where I fit in with that; I’m definitely not a huge partier, but that sort of responsibility and commitment has filled me with anxiety. Maybe it’s my choice in friendships, in love.

I try not to think about it too much, the friendships left to dust over, the dates I was too scared to go on. I threw myself into my work instead because it felt safer somehow. I defined myself by my career and made that the only metric that matter.  I poured all of myself into the corporate world for all those years and it turns out I was naive. So naive. I actually thought they cared about me.

It’s hilarious in hindsight. Now I’m in Florida without even a leaving card to commend the efforts I put in. I’m a barely remembered spectre in the place I once thought I was indispensable in. A shameful secret swept under the rug. A never repeated name.

I can’t go back to that world again.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asks, concern creasing his brow. Great, five minutes into talking about becoming roommates and he already clearly thinks I’m disturbed.

“I’m fine, sorry, must have drifted away for a second.”

“Happens to us all,” he says lightly. “So, is that a problem?” Frankie folds his arms and I get the clear sense that he’s annoyed, that I’ve missed an important cue somewhere.

“Is what a problem?” I ask.

“Felix staying at the apartment, because sorry but it’s a non-negotiable”

“No, not at all. No, I just … I drifted away, like I said.”

“Right.”

Great, this is the first apartment that feels reasonable, and Frankie seems like a nice person and I’m wrecking it. Somehow at best, I’m managing to come across as scatty and someone who doesn’t listen, and a child hater at worst.

I need to get out of Molly’s. I need to make Florida work for me.

“I do that sometimes,” I say quietly, “It doesn’t mean I’m not listening, or anything. It’s just … it’s just something that happens. I don’t have a problem at all with Felix or …. it’s your home, Frankie.”

He pauses. “If you take the room, it’s yours too though.”

“And I get why you’re being careful about who takes the room because of that. Look, I can’t promise I won’t secretly judge your coffee choices, or leave coffee grounds everywhere, or watch really terrible TV from time to time, but I …”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

“You do?”

“I do.” Frankie smiles. “So, you’re still interested in the room then? You really wanna do this? I thought Benny might be putting you up to this and I won’t be offended if you don’t want to live with some random guy.”

“Benny keeps reminding me you’re not though, are you?”

Frankie shrugs and looks away, something flashing over his eyes briefly that feels a little haunted.

Since moving back to Florida, I’ve realised that, at least for Benny and Will, Tom’s death is still an open wound even now. It makes me feel worse sometimes because Will was so kind to me after the funeral, so keen to ensure I knew they’d be there if I needed them, that I could rely on them in Tom’s absence and I didn’t know how to say I’d never been able to rely on Tom. My brother spent his life a half-stranger to me and I feel like a fraud pretending we were real siblings.  In five and a half years, the Millers and my brother’s ex-wife have been more of a family to me than Tom ever was.

“It’s okay,” Frankie says, “I’m sure you’ve got far better roommate options.”

“I actually really don’t. One guy asked for foot pics, and these women kind of judged me because I wasn’t corporate enough anymore, so I don’t have a wealth of better options.”

Frankie frowns slightly.

“It’s a brutal market. And your place looks… nice and you seem like you wouldn’t ask for -”

“Some guy really asked for that?”

“I blocked him, it’s fine. It’s the internet, Frankie.”

“Sometimes I fucking hate that thing.”

“Yeah, but I like being able to shop in my pyjamas.”

Frankie laughs. “Okay, fair point. So, Daisy, do you want the room? ‘Cause if you do, it’s yours.”

My heart races. The room is mine? It’s not just that I’ll be escaping from feeling like a perennial thorn in Molly’s life, but it’s a beginning. Finally I have the chance to make something here, to be Daisy 2.0 and leave the corporate burnt out husk of my old self in the rearview mirror.

“You don’t have some weird neighbour who plays the bagpipes at 3am?”

“No, I don’t have one of those. It’s a normal building.”

“Good, just wanted to check. Okay then, yeah, I think I do. Want the room that is.”

“Great. I’ll get the agreement emailed over to you and we’ll go from there.”

“This is going to be good”

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

I think this might be the handshake part.

Tag List

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[autumnrory]

FINALLY starting to feel a little better about christmas though i only have two things on me and one thing ordered BUT i got a list of books from my mom so i can order those when i order the cookbook for my sister in law and my mom also mentioned something my sister wants that i could get, gonna do most of the kids' shopping on friday, still need ideas for my nephew and godson though, plus i have general ideas for my dad and brother lol you guys are getting gift cards and a little something else bc you are too difficult for me to shop for ANYWAY like i am going to make progress in the coming days so it's fine

[gardenialver]

Girlies

synopsis - telling him a secret about girls

pairings - Tetsurou Kuroo, Shoyo Hinata, Kenma Kozume

content - fluff, reader is afab and fem, mentions of: periods, pads, boobs, discharge, boob touching but not in a sexual context, wet hair, it's slightly alluded to the length and texture of the readers hair but I've tried to make it slightly more upto interpretation

Tetsurou Kuroo

"Babe, I'm gonna tell you a secret but you can't tell anyone ok?" Your boyfriend looked at you with shaking eyes, "Why are you nervous?" You laugh at him, hitting his shoulder lightly.

"You're making it sound like you're about to tell me you've killed 5 people," You put your legs up over his lap and he holds onto them, "I'm not, this is a girl thing ok? You have to promise not to tell anyone,"

He leaned closer to you, shoving his face into yours, with a hand you pushed him away, keeping your fingers on his cheek. "When girls change their pad, they stick it onto the wall," You felt Kuroo's cheek raise as his face contoured to confusion.

"Wait so you like stick it onto the wall?" You nodded at him, "Yeah we just kinda," You made a slapping motion, "Wait, why?" You side-eyed him, a judgy look on your face.

"Because it's conventional, if you put it on your leg then it hurts like it hurts to take a bandaid off, you always whine when we have to get blood-tested, and if you put it on your leg then it sticks and you get your uterus tissue and blood on your leg and that's nasty,"

"If you put it on the floor then you have to bend to get it and that's uncomfortable and lowkey hurts but if it's on the wall, then you put your new pad on and then grab your old one and roll it up and throw it away, easy, conventional, clean, painless,"

"Wait, that makes so much sense," You nodded, "See, anyways you promise not to tell anyone I told you this, this is top secret," He nodded intently. You placed a small kiss on his cheek and he smiled into you.

Shoyo Hinata

"False alarm it was actually just discharge," You call out to Shoyo as you turn off the washroom light, there he was standing with painkillers, a ginormous plush, a heating pack, and an assortment of desserts.

"Thank you babe," You greet him with a kiss, touched at the lengths he went to just under the pretense that you may be on your period. Despite that he still gave you the large plush and put everything else away, crashing onto your shared bed.

His arms wrapped around you underneath your chest, tossing and turning, ending with you groaning and him stopping with wide worried eyes. "I'M SORRY DEAR ARE YOU OK?? WAS I TOO ROUGH I'M SO SORRY," All you could get out was a pained, "My boobs hurt"

There he was on the bed bowing in apology while you clutched your chest, one hand clutching onto the plush. "I'M SORRY I FORGOT THEY GET SORE!!! DO YOU WANT ME TO MASSAGE THEM OR ANYTHING??" Your boyfriend continued to worry but you threw your plush at him with teary eyes. "NO YOU PERVERT" "I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT BABE I'M SORRY"

After a while of back and forth you laid your head against his chest. "It's so annoying Sho, that I keep preparing and thinking my period's here and it's not." He held you close, cupping your chest lightly to lift the weight off of you.

"The discharge wasn't this bad before was it?" He asks peering down at you and you only lull your head, "No it's been this bad I'd just never tell you properly." He pressed a long kiss to your cheek, "My poor babbyyyyy" He droned.

"Your boobs get very sore, your cravings kinda startish? The headaches and back pain, sometimes you get early cramps," He began to list and just saying it out loud made your body feel even worse and as she felt the weight pressing against him he leaned back.

"Is it like this for all girls? I only have Natsu to go off of and I'm sure she'd be uncomfortable telling her adult brother that," He said while moving his hands to rub your back.

"Yeah, I mean some girls have it easier and only get it for like 3-4 days and their pre-symptoms aren't as bad but it's definitely bad enough for you to mistake it as your period." While offering comforting kisses he continued to ask questions.

"Ohhh is this why girls will pack double the underwear on a trip for like three days?" You nodded, "So this is that type of emergency?" You nodded again, holding him closer out of the need for affection.

"DO YOU WANT ME TO CHANGE YOU???" "PERVERT" You yelled again lamely hitting him. "I'M SORRY, I JUST FEEL LIKE I FINALLY HAD AN EPIPHANY, A REVELATION, A BREAKTHROUGH." "A full circle moment? Well an emergency is also if you get your period and then you leak"

He nodded and adjusted himself closer to you, "Thank you for telling me babe," He cheerily thanks and you nodded, lips finally turning up at another kiss.

Kenma Kozume

With a towel slung over your shoulders you smiled at the feeling of cool air hitting your skin, "Babe I'm done showering" You call out to him, your slippers thumping against your feet and the flooring as you find him.

"Thanks I'll go shower now," He mutters to you, holding your hand momentarily before sulking off to the washroom. As you settled into his gaming chair, preparing to benefit off of his high levels and high currency in games you heard the usual shriek, pouting as you went to check on him.

"[Lastname] [Name], can you stop doing this." He scolded you while pointing to the cluster on the wall, "No," "What is this?" "Uh, my hair??" He rolled his eyes, "This is gross, this is nasty, why is your wet hair in clumps on the shower wall, THE SHOWER THAT WE SHARE"

"Ugh, stop being so dramatic, be happy it's not in the bath, either way all girls do this," He deadpans at you, "I don't care if all girls do it, I don't want to see your wet hair whenever I go to shower, your hair's long too''

"Can you stop being misogynistic? My hair's not even as long as you're saying it is" You mock him, trying to leave until you were held back. "No can you get rid of it?" He glared with his arm wrapped around you.

"Why can't you just do it yourself?" But you still complied as he carried you from point A, the shower wall, to point B, the trash can. "Ok now go shower in peace," You finally left the room, the steamed room now suffocating you since you had finished your shower.

Sighing again at the cool air that hit your exposed skin you went back to playing games on Kenma's computer, finally getting touchy with him when he emerged from the washroom.

You wrapped yourself around him, watching him play a horror game, your own version of mansplaining coming out of you whenever he wouldn't follow your instructions.

As time passed so did you and your partner's bathing practice. "I've finished showering babe," You call out to him, a new set of pajamas on your body and the usual sigh of refresh when feeling the slight breeze of the cooler air outside the bathroom.

Again your slippers thumped against the floor while you searched for Kenma, "Hi Kodzuken," You teased as you placed your chin against his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and continued playing a little longer before he finally left to wash, allowing you to take over his gaming set. "pikmin" But again you were stopped by a noise of alarm in the bathroom.

However, this time instead of annoyance you now had a small smile on your face, knowing exactly what he was calling you for. "What??" "DID YOU MAKE F****** APPLETUN WITH YOUR WET HAIR??" "No that's obviously Wooloo, have fun showering,"

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 26

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mainly just pregnancy stuff

A/N: I hope I pulled this off while keeping our archer in character. Be gentle.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

You knew it was bothering him, it was evident in the way he moved. The jerking slices of the knife as he made bolts while he sat cross legged on the old railing across from you. You were perched on the porch swing—he had all but jumped up and down on it to make sure it would hold you safely—just watching him, guilt flaring to singe the inside of your chest. He wanted to go on the run, get the things that you and the baby needed, but you were scared. Hershel had said the baby could come any day. It was at your insistence that Daryl wasn’t going. You didn’t have to try hard, mind you. He was worried about leaving you as well.

Still, it wasn’t sitting right with him for the others to be risking their necks for his baby.

“Maybe you should go.” You finally said, picking at your thumbnail. You saw his movements come to an abrupt halt before continuing.

“Nah. Ya need me here.” He sniffed, starting up on another piece of wood. He had legitimate bolts with his crossbow, so you could only assume he was just trying to keep his hands busy. He was so undeniably torn and it was showing.

“I think you should. You know what I need. You’ve read the books. Maggie will be there to help with the medical side of things, the list Hershel made.” You sat up straighter, attempting to massage the little foot away from your ribs. Of course, Daryl noticed.

“S’wrong?” He was climbing off the rail and made it over to you in one long stride, giving you a once over before he sat down. He didn’t ask before taking over for you, lightly rubbing over the little form of toes with the smallest, gentlest of smiles. You’d almost consent to constant discomfort if it meant you’d see more of that expression.

“Thumper has a personal vendetta against my ribcage.” Your head found your partner’s shoulder, watching that same laser focus that had moments ago been on the wood he was carving now honed in on you. For a moment, you were just a couple expecting a baby. For a moment, the world hadn’t ended. For a moment, you had managed to find perfect. “I love you.”

Daryl’s hand froze but for a mere heartbeat before his fingertips continued chasing little toes as if he were playing a game with the baby, when in reality he was simply trying to divert the tiny digits away from your ribs. “So ya keep sayin’.”

“So you keep saying. Is that all you’re ever gonna say?” You weren’t angry, not even frustrated. There was merely a soft curiosity that sat in the back of your mind; along with the little voice that assured you Daryl was yours and you were his, even if he could never say the words.

“Dunno.” It always unsettled you when he spoke so quietly, small and fragile as if he feared his words would end in some sort of pain. God, you wanted to bury his father in a gopher hole, maybe even his mother and brother. It was normal for a person to be unsure of feelings, to question and explore before accepting what they were, good or bad. Daryl didn’t have that capability. He questioned. He explored. And then he feared, good or bad. He didn’t think he deserved good and he was so attuned with bad that it’s what came naturally in his own reactions. Perhaps he thought you were trying to fix him, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t see anything broken. You saw someone who had never been shown what love was supposed to feel like. He wasn’t broken, he just needed to learn, and Daryl was good at learning. 

Still you persevered, your fingers finding their way into his hair, delicately tracing the scar from Andrea’s bullet. “Do you love me, Daryl?” Maybe narrowing it down to a simple yes or no would make it easier for him. Maybe you were pushing him. You would need time if the answer was no but you would be okay. He cared enough to be with you, to raise Thumper as a family. In the end, that was all you needed.

But then his hand stilled on the center of your swollen belly and he lifted his head to seek out your gaze. Even with all the emotion stirring in those stormy pools of blue, you could easily see the fear, but there was something else. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, the color darkening somewhat as it grew. Even with that comforting gesture, you held his gaze, heard his breath stutter, watched his lips move so, so nimbly without a sound. His free hand came up to brush back your own hair, tenderly tucking it behind your ear. As he leaned toward you, the corners of your mouth lifted into a welcoming smile.

“Y/N, I—”

“We’re heading out!” Glenn called from the doorway before stepping onto the porch. Daryl pulled away fast, his hands on his knees, eyes downcast. 

You were going to absolutely torture Glenn before you murdered him.

“You sure you don’t wanna go, Daryl?” Rick had joined Glenn and was checking his weapons before he finally looked up.

Daryl, though, only had eyes for you; his bowed head angled to see you, questioning. 

You sighed with a smile, giving him a nudge with your elbow. “Go. Try to find those bra pad things. Cloths suck and they hurt my nipples.” There was no deeper shade of red that could color his skin. You laughed, loud and true. “Go. We’ll be fine.” Licking his lips nervously, Daryl nodded and left the swing.

T-Dog held out the archer’s bag and crossbow. “Thought you might change your mind. Went ahead and grabbed these.” He only received a nod. 

The group began to descend the steps, but Daryl paused at the end, looking back to you. He closed the distance in seconds, a finger hooking under your chin to lift your face higher, even though you were already looking at him. “Be back ‘fore dark. Promise.”

That earned him one of your sweetest smiles. “We’ll be waiting.” You patted your belly. The rough hand at your chin, moved to your jaw, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. “I love you, Daryl. Be safe.” He hesitated, long enough for something to stir in your chest. Hope? Excitement? Then he merely nodded and was gone.

You and Lori were given the least strenuous tasks. She was not far behind you. A few weeks, her belly almost as prominent as your own. Luckily, you found it helped for folding clothing before stuffing them in the correct bag. Your bare feet were propped up in a chair across from you, your ankles swollen, squeezed by the socks that you had to wear to keep them warm. Your body just ached all over. Thumper Dixon was playing field hockey with your internal organs and the nausea you had definitely not missed was threatening to make a comeback. You just felt awful.

“The last month is the worst.” Lori commented while packing away some of Carl’s clothing. “And it’ll take a while after the baby comes to feel human again.”

“Growing a human fucking sucks.” You groused, one of Daryl’s few shirts lying spread over your torso. “And goddamnit, I have to pee. I always have to pee.”

“Means you’re hydrated at least. Silver linings.” Lori tittered. If anyone had been watching the two of you battling to your feet, it would have been worthy of more than a few chuckles.

“Thanks for going with me. Daryl would have a kitten if I went alone.” When you straightened, there was an immediate feeling of change in your body that had you looking to Lori, eyes wide. “Holy shit, I can breathe but I feel like I’m gonna piss my pants and my hips hurt.”

She smiled and placed her hands over her own round bump. “The baby dropped. You're carrying differently now. I wish we had a mirror.” 

“Carrying differently? What do you—oh.” You immediately noticed when you began to massage the taut skin that the swell sat lower. You suddenly couldn’t remember a word the old man had said. Were you about to go into labor? How would Daryl know? You couldn’t do it without him.

“Easy, Y/N.” At some point, the other woman had crossed the small space and put her hands on your shoulders, your stomachs brushing against one another. “It just means the baby’s getting ready. Though, I think after this run, Daryl should probably consider staying behind on any others.” You nodded, trying to get your breathing under control. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “Let’s go take care of business and then let Hershel do his daily thing, okay?”

You nodded again, a jerky motion while you trembled. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” You followed behind her, trying to keep your mind on the fact that if you didn’t empty your bladder within the next couple of minutes, you would still be incredibly anxious but you would be so with wet pants. “Maybe the little gremlin can’t reach my ribs now.”

You felt like crap. All day, you felt heavy and sluggish, swollen and nauseous. By late afternoon, you just couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“Carol.” You spoke her name quietly, leaning onto the dusty countertop to pillow your head on your folded arms. You saw the concern on her face when she turned from canned foods with which she was planning small meals. You couldn’t even wave away her worry. “Do you need my help right now? I think I’d really like to lie down.” 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” She came to place a hand on your back, rubbing softly. It only succeeded in making your yearn for Daryl to be there, easing your fears in his own Daryl way. He would probably already have an aneurysm when someone told him that you’d done work, light as it was. And then you needed to tell him that the baby had indeed dropped. God, even if you didn’t tell him, he’d notice with that keen eye of his. Your stomach had shifted, still round but lower. There was so much pressure on your pelvis that you thought the bones might separate at any moment. Lori had promised that what you were feeling was normal, that it was simply new and you would take a day or two to adjust unless the baby decided to make its debut before you could.

“I just don’t feel well.” You stood straighter, nodding that she could remove her hand and you were fine. “I’d rather have Daryl come back to me feeling like shit and resting than to me feeling like shit and trying to help get things done.”

“I can’t argue with that.” She laughed. 

Carol was about the only other person in the group that Daryl dropped any of his walls around. With Rick, it was all business. There was respect there, but not yet friendship. You could see it though, the subtle changes in your hunter. He was getting comfortable around these people. It was a snail’s pace but if they were anything like you hoped they were, he would be granted their patience. God knew, he had earned it. 

“Come on.” Carol urged. “Let’s get you settled.” 

With each step, you whined, feeling less and less like the woman you had been only months before, like she had been left behind somewhere, starved or trampled by a herd. “I hate this. Is it wrong to hate this?” You grimaced at Carol who only chuckled breathily, her hand resting on your cheek.

“It’s not wrong. This is a lot. Our bodies do a lot.” A couple of soft pats and then she bent down to straighten the bedroll and arrange the blankets. 

You were watching, actually finding yourself excited to be off your feet and deciding that a nap wouldn’t be so horrible when there was a strange feeling low in your belly. It started as a gradual tightening but soon turned into an unyielding cramp, your stomach hard beneath your hands as you grabbed for your sweater. You gasped Carol’s name, could hear her clearly calling for Hershel but you couldn’t seem to respond, swallowed up by every fear that had been looming like a dark shadow for the past few weeks. The pain wasn’t even horrible, not like you had imagined at all. But it was terrifying. The only thing you could think of to do was hold the area that housed your little Thumper and whimper out Daryl’s name.

A bed had been cleared, dusted, and made for you in the downstairs room. As you laid there, resting, and stared at the half empty cup of water on the bedside table, you overheard Beth and Carl animatedly re-telling how two walkers had shuffled by the driveway gate. The children had hid and remained quiet, reporting that no others were seen once those two had moved on. You weren’t naive enough to hope that it didn’t mean more were coming. The group would need to pack up and head out likely within the next day or so. 

“Braxton Hicks.” Hershel had stated matter-of-factly. He had expressed that he was actually surprised you hadn’t experienced them before then, added that maybe you had but they were so mild that you just didn’t notice. You had two more instances over the course of three hours but nothing since then, though your body seemed to be in a constant state of dread, waiting for another to happen; for it to be more than what Hershel had said. You were waiting for something to be wrong.

Beyond the dusty, tattered green curtains, you could see the light fading. Daryl would be back soon. Would he blame you for bringing this on by doing a little work? Would he be angry? He’d be beside himself with worry, that much was a given. Hershel had said you could do small chores, that it was good for you to be moving, but what if Daryl didn’t see it that way? The morning had started so perfectly. The conversation had been left unfinished but it didn’t seem to have been heading anywhere bleak. 

“Ugh.” You didn’t know what was more exhausting, your body or your brain. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind ran rampant with each and every wildly negative scenario it could possibly conjure. You groaned and rolled to your other side despite the effort and apprehensiveness of even moving. Letting your eyes close yet again, you fought against the intrusive thoughts, forcing images of what Thumper might look like instead. A little girl with Daryl’s eyes and your smile. A little boy with unruly light hair like Daryl’s had been, a constant scowl. You laughed softly, wetly, shedding a few tears around your smile. No matter the sex of the baby, you hoped for Daryl’s eyes. They were the one thing to always gave him away, no matter what expression he wore. With a baby that couldn’t communicate needs and wants, you would at least have that in your corner.

At some point, you must have dozed off, opening your eyes to the sound of the old truck Daryl was driving. Looking to the window, you could see the faint light of dusk giving way to the moon. He’d kept his promise, albeit barely. You didn’t care as long as he was back. Shifting and struggling, you finally made it upright just as you heard Glenn’s all too cheerful voice, though you couldn’t make out the words. Rick’s few words trailed right after. Then there was Daryl. He spoke but then there was nothing more than hushed tones. Hershel offering the day's events, most likely. A thud was followed by echoing stomps of boots pounding against the hardwood floors.

“Where is she?” Daryl roared, closer to the door.

“She’s fine, son. She’s resting. This is normal. It just caused a bit of a fright. She just—”

“Where. Is. She?!”

The old man must have nodded or pointed because the next thing you knew, the door was swinging open with Daryl’s silhouette backdropped by the soft candlelight in the other room. His shoulders were heaving in what sounded so close to sobs that you squinted your eyes for a chance to catch his expression before he moved, startling you with how quickly he had one knee on the bed and was leaning in to check you over himself. He was filthy, mostly dirt and grime, but spots of walker blood and a cut across his cheek that was no longer bleeding. 

“What happened?” You asked, reaching for his face but letting your hand hover in fear of hurting him.

“Don’t matter. Ya alright? Baby okay?” He was breathless, either from his haste to get to you or maybe just with worry. He was touching you without hesitance, his hands in a mad rush to feel your face, neck, your belly. You watched his eyes go wide and knew exactly what it meant. “Why’s it look diff’rent?” 

“Thumper dropped.” His eyes were dancing back and forth as he flipped through his mental catalog of reading material and Hershel’s words. Relief was evident in his posture when he recalled what he had been searching for, but he was still tense.

“Hershel said ya was crampin’. The fake shit. Does it hurt now?” You shook your head and watched him finally sink onto his hip beside you, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Shouldn’a gone. Ya didn’t need to be alone through that.” 

“Hey.” You leaned as far as you could, to guide his hand away with one hand while the other used his chin to turn his face toward you. “I wasn’t alone and we’re okay. It’s just my body getting ready.” Daryl’s head tilted, his expression displaying his gratitude for your attempts at consolation but also heavy laden with guilt for leaving you there. “Daryl, you had to go.”

“Didn’t hafta do nothin’. Could’a stayed right here where ya need me to be.” 

He hadn’t asked what you had been doing. Maybe it wasn’t that important to him after all. He seemed to be more concerned with what happened and how you currently felt than anything. You truly needed to start trusting him as you wanted so badly for him to trust you. Your palm left his face and wrapped around the back of his neck, not needing much pressure to pull him to you for your lips to press against his. It was gentle and chaste, his hand leaving your belly to cup your jaw.

“We’re okay and you’re here now.” You soothed, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Just—no more runs until Thumper’s here, okay?”

“No more runs.” He agreed, his eyes closed, forehead against yours. “Ain’t leavin’ ya again.” His hand lowered back to your belly, rubbing back and forth. It was always the most tender thing you’d ever seen from him. You didn’t think him the type but he actually seemed to be calmed by the action. “D’ya need anythin’?”

“Just you.” You let him help you lie back, but he didn’t follow. 

“Need to clean up. I’ll be quick.” He made to stand up but you grabbed his forearm and pulled yourself up again, not stopping once you got there. He gave in to your incessant tugging and wrapped his arms around you. “You’re gonna need to change too now.” You sniffled, trying hard not to cry, but you were just so overwhelmed with relief that he was back in one piece, that nothing bad had truly happened, that he was going to stay. “Don’t cry, woman. M’here.”

“I know. I’m just—I’m happy. I have you and Thumper. And—I don’t deserve you, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl scoffed, rubbing his cheek against the crown of your head. “Ya deserve way better than me, Sunshine.” He took a deep breath that actually shifted you against his chest and then he was tightening his embrace. “But I love ya. An’ m’here unless ya tell me to get lost.” He pulled away before you could say anything, heading quickly for the door with one last look before he walked out. You were stunned frozen, silent. 

He said it.

He said it and you could feel that he meant it. His actions had always conveyed it, but hearing it from his mouth was everything. 

Thumper rolled and kicked before going still, reacting to all the emotions you were feeding to them through your bond. When you laid down again, it wasn’t hard to fall asleep. No wicked images formed behind your eyes. Just those words replaying in your head, a baby’s tiny hand gripping a large finger. A child’s giggle. And then his voice again.

Your eyes didn’t want to obey when you bid them to open, the mattress dipping beside you, the sheets moving. A warm arm pulled you against an even warmer body, enveloping you in a veil of safety.

Everything would be okay.

Because you loved Daryl.

And Daryl loved you.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

The Plant Prowler of Pabu

A/N: I’m scared that Pabu is going to be toast after this week, so I wrote a little fluff to make myself feel better. Also, this is the first time I’ve been able to finish a fic in six weeks, so… yay me!

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader (GN)

Rating: T (but MDNI as always)

Wordcount: 2.1K

Warnings and tags: mild language; fluff; a kiss; spoilers for The Bad Batch season 3

Summary: Exploring the island during his first morning on Pabu, Crosshair encounters a mastermind of botanical crime: you.

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Whoever said, “It’s darkest just before dawn” had clearly never woken up to go for a walk before sunrise. Even if Crosshair hadn’t had enhanced vision, it would have been easy for him to navigate his way down to the beach of Pabu in the dim half-light. Hunter had wordlessly watched him exit the Marauder, pretending to still be asleep, but Crosshair knew that his brother would have drawn his vibroblade in a flash if he’d even glanced sideways at Omega.

Crosshair didn’t exactly blame Hunter for his caution, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. The squad had arrived on the idyllic island the previous day, and Crosshair was immediately swarmed by a horde of curious locals. With Hunter determined to keep Crosshair in sight at all times, there had been no escape from their onslaught of hospitality, and by the time the celebrations had died down, Crosshair had been clinging to the tattered threads of his patience and sanity.

It was a hell of a thing to go from barely speaking to anyone for months on end to suddenly being plunged into the midst of a vibrant and chaotic crowd of nosy spectators. He’d escaped to the Marauder at last and pretended to sleep, keenly aware of Hunter’s eyes on him. He’d spent enough time under the microscope in the past several months, though, and he was ready for some privacy.

And so it was that he found himself wandering down the empty terraced walkways of Pabu, making his way to the shoreline in the pale gloaming. He didn’t encounter a single soul as he walked—barring the ubiquitous moonyos that seemed to frolic across the island at all hours. Pabu was the sort of place that seemed too flawless to be real. Too flawless to last.

Not quite as flawless as it seems on the surface, he acknowledged as he turned down a path that snaked through one of the sections of the island that had yet to be rebuilt after the catastrophic sea surge he’d heard about countless times at the welcoming party the previous night. The buildings had been reduced to rubble, and judging by the weeds sprouting in the cracks of the walkway, the locals tended to avoid this particular part of the island.

Perfect.

The gentle breeze off the ocean was chilly, and he told himself it was the reason his hand trembled more than usual that morning. He shoved both hands deep into his pockets as he navigated the last few levels before he reached the beach. As he stepped onto the sand, a gust of wind buffeted against him. It was bracingly cold, and it smelled like salt and aquatic vegetation and wet earth, and he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply and focusing on the sensation.

When he opened his eyes, a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision had him snapping his head to the side. He froze. A figure meandered slowly down the beach, sticking close to the bottom of the hill where the lush foliage grew thickly right up to the edge of the sand. He was certain you had spotted him, but you didn’t immediately acknowledge his presence.

He watched for a moment as you paused and stooped down to examine one of the plants, then carefully plucked a few bunches and laid them in the basket you carried. Bizarre. What the kriff was this person doing out here so early? Nothing innocent, that was for damned sure. Why would anyone sneak down to such an isolated stretch of the beach at this obscene hour if they didn’t have nefarious intent?

Aside from me, obviously.

He squinted slightly. Even with his enhanced eyesight, it was dark enough, and you were far enough away, that it was difficult to make out your features, but he was reasonably sure you hadn’t been at the party the night before. 

Hmph.

He turned and walked the opposite direction, away from the person who’d had the audacity to interrupt his solitude by getting to the beach first. Better not to get involved.

Crosshair took a different route the next morning, arriving at the beach just as the sun rose. As bad kriffing luck would have it, you were exiting the beach just as he arrived, and your paths inevitably intersected. He braced himself for a conversation, but you simply met his eyes and nodded quietly as you passed him.

He suppressed a sigh of relief. Stepping aside to make room for you to pass on the narrow trail, he couldn’t help noticing that your basket was filled with a variety of neat bundles of leaves and twigs. Odd, but your hobbies were none of his concern. Even if they did involve herb rustling and grand theft shrubbery.

He continued his path down to the shoreline and wandered along the water’s edge, staring out at the horizon. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see your solitary figure making its way up the steep slope and into Lower Pabu. He was now completely sure that you’d not been at the welcoming party, nor had he encountered you in the village. It wasn’t that surprising; after all, hundreds of people lived on the island, and he wasn’t in any particular hurry to meet them all—or any of them, if he were honest.

Of course, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Wrecker had flatly refused to allow Crosshair to isolate himself, while the gregarious mayor Shep Hazard seemed equally dedicated to the twin causes of thrusting Crosshair into the community and plying him with as much fruit as he could eat in a lifetime. He was starting to feel a tiny surge of violence every time he saw a jogan fruit.

On the third day, Batcher woke up with Crosshair and scrambled out of the Marauder, bounding ahead of him down the ramp and then turning to wiggle her entire body in anticipation as he followed. He let the lurca hound pick the path that morning, not bothering to hide his thin smile at Batcher’s endless curiosity and enthusiasm. She crisscrossed the walkways incessantly, sniffing and exploring, chasing the moonyos playfully down the hill, investigating every nook and cranny of the village, and easily running five times the distance that Crosshair traveled on their way down to the water.

The beach was empty this morning, to Crosshair’s relief. At last, some peace and quiet. Or at least as quiet and peaceful as it could be with Batcher rocketing back and forth across the wet sand, grunting and huffing as she charged into the surf and back up to Crosshair, crouching into a bow as she tried to entice him to play with her. When he didn’t immediately comply, she took off chasing a flock of seabirds, scattering them into the air in a cacophony of indignant squawking.

She chased the birds down the beach, barking joyously as she splashed through the surf. When the hound disappeared around a bend in the shoreline, Crosshair sped up slightly, not wanting to risk Omega’s wrath if anything happened to her pet on his watch. As he rounded the bend, he was greeted with a most unexpected sight: Batcher was lying on her back on the sand, writhing with delight as you rubbed her belly.

Your basket was overturned, and all the neat little bundles of herbs were strewn across the sand. It wasn’t hard to deduce the instigator of such carnage. Batcher spotted Crosshair and immediately jumped up and shook the sand off herself before rushing to greet him.

“Down,” he said sternly as she jumped up and swiped at him with her massive paws.

She dropped obediently, and trotted along next to him as he approached you. You’d already begun picking up your fallen bundles of leaves, and he quickly bent to assist you.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled.

“No harm done,” you replied, shaking a bit of loose sand out of the bundles before you dropped them into your basket. “They all get washed before I hang them up to dry anyway.”

“So you’re not just engaging in botanical heists for the adrenaline rush?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah, it really gets the blood pumping,” you replied, deadpan. “My day just doesn’t feel complete without a little horticultural larceny.”

“I can see you like to live on the edge,” he said with a tiny smile. “The Plant Prowler of Pabu.”

“And I would have gotten away with it, if it weren’t for a mysterious stranger and his meddling dog.”

He liked you. Damn it.

Crosshair didn’t see you for the next several days. He assumed you’d moved your criminal enterprise elsewhere on the island, and after the team returned from Barton IV, he didn’t feel the same need to escape the Marauder as he had previously. Still, he wasn’t sleeping particularly well, and after an excruciatingly restless night, he slipped out of the ship not long before dawn and wandered aimlessly down the streets of Pabu until he found himself in the unstable section he’d discovered on the first day.

As he picked his way through the ruins, he spotted movement two terraces below, and he grinned. Forcing himself to walk casually so you didn’t suspect how pleased he was to see you, he sauntered down to your level, only to find you ripping weeds up from between the fragments of pavement with uncharacteristic abandon.

“What did those plants ever do to you?” he asked.

You must have spotted him before he arrived, because you didn’t even flinch at the sound of his voice.

“Invasive species,” you replied. “I try not to over-forage, but in this case, I’ll make an exception.”

“And I thought your crimes only extended to vegetational theft,” he drawled. “I had no idea you’d escalated to floral murder and agricultural vigilantism.”

“The hero Pabu needs,” you said with a smile that had no business being as charming as it was, considering you were currently covered in a fine layer of dirt and assorted bits of leaves and twigs. “If this plant gets established on the island, we might never be able to eradicate it. It will outcompete the native plants and could cause significant disruptions to the ecosystem.”

“How altruistic of you,” he remarked drily.

“Not at all,” you laughed. “It also happens to be delicious.”

Crosshair stooped down and pulled one of the plants up by the roots, examining it closely. “It’s on sight, then.”

“Exactly. No mercy.”

As the first rays of the sun appeared on the distant horizon, you packed the large bundles of weeds into your basket, then stood and dusted your hands off on your trousers. You stretched a bit, clearly a little stiff from your labor. Impulsively, Crosshair spoke.

“Want to watch the sunrise with me?” You looked surprised at his offer, and he cleared his throat, looking awkwardly away. “Or do you turn into a meiloorun if you stay out past dawn?”

“Yes,” you said. “I mean, no. I mean, yes, I’d like to stay. No, I don’t turn into a meiloorun.”

You bit your lip and stared down at the bundle of weeds in your basket, poking at it ineffectually as you muttered something unintelligible under your breath. Stifling a laugh, Crosshair climbed up onto the crumbling half-wall of a destroyed structure and extended his hand to help you up after him. You scrambled up and sat down next to him, gazing out at the tranquil ocean as the sun began to paint the high clouds in brilliant shades of gold and pastel.

“Not a bad view, is it?” you asked quietly. 

“Definitely worth waking up early,” he replied, watching your face as the light caught on your cheekbones and reflected in your eyes.

Without making a conscious decision, he lifted his hand and brushed a little loose dirt off your cheek. His damned hand trembled, and he mentally cursed. You didn’t seem to notice the slight tremor, though—or if you did, you didn’t say anything about it. Instead, you turned your head slowly, grazing your lips across his fingertips as you met his eyes. It seemed the most natural thing in the galaxy to continue to trace the line of your jaw until his hand curled around the back of your head.

Your lips were soft and warm in the cool breeze, and you tasted like sea salt and dew and something he didn’t quite recognize. Something new. He liked it. You leaned into his kiss, and when at last it came to its natural conclusion, he drew in a shaky breath.

“Hi,” he whispered. “I’m Crosshair.”

---

Want more Crosshair? I have another Crosshair x Reader ficlet here!

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[andrewminyardslawyer]

Okay here's a companion piece to my "Jeremy Knox What The Hell Is Up With Your Family Evidence". I wanted to have a bullet point list so it was easier to keep track of everything. I am aware that this is probably excessive lol again if I missed anything feel free to let me know! I tried to keep all of my personal theories out of it and just present the facts but I included a couple explanations 

Jeremy Knox What The Hell Is Up With Your Family The Bullet Point List Edition 

Home

- "The trick to starting Saturdays off in the right foot was to get out of the house as early as possible. He'd realize years ago that he'd never be the first one awake"

- is on very good terms with the butler, William Hunter. William has coffee ready for him when he leaves in the morning, and texts him that his older brother and stepfather are in the sitting room when Jeremy gets home so he can avoid them and opens the front door for him

- is required to stay at the house during the weekday while school is in session. He is allowed to go to Cat and Laila's house on the weekends and over summer break. "Jean didn't miss away Jeremy's gaze slid past him to peer into the distance, or the tight tug at the corner of Cat's mouth. Jeremy was still smiling but the light had gone out in it" when talking about his living situation

Step Family / Mother 

- step grandfather is a congressman 

- "he'd wasted years arguing against such events, as he had absolutely no relation to his stepsfather's father, but his mother refused to budge. If a Congress man needed a picture perfect family for photo ops, the Knox family was duty bound to dress up and smile bright for the exhausting number of cameras"

- His stepfather's last name is Wilshire 

- is stated that he is permanently on his stepfather's bad side 

- told Jean not to call him by his last name, Knox 

- says that he will maybe do frosted tips next year after he's graduated and doesn't have to deal with the fallout and was kicked out of family dinner because of his bleached hair

- Jeremy says " 'I've never been to Europe. Dad's been stationed there a couple times, but....' " The wording makes me feel like his biological father is still alive but they aren't in touch 

- Jeremy's mother picked his therapist

Siblings 

- does not get along with his older brother, Bryson

- Jeremy left the house without his keys in order to avoid a confrontation with Bryson.

Later on he states that he "idly wished he'd been brave enough to get his keys"

- Bryson lives at home during the summer and goes to college on the East Coast

- does not get along with his sister, Annalise

- Annalise "insisted on keeping her own place on the other side of the city year round"

- in the one scene with Annalise she is very hostile to Jeremy:

•"more drama...".   •"Overdue for a new scandal, hm?' she asked. 'End the way you started.' He didn't flinch but it was a near thing. Once upon a time she had gone to all of his high school games, but once upon a time was before the fall banquet that broke their family in half she's gone out of her way to forget everything she knew about Exy since then, and she'd never forgiven him for sticking with it. He'd walk through a hundred hypothetical arguments with his therapist in preparation for the day he finally fought back, but every time the chance came, he watched it slip past and miserable silence." • " sent him an arch look. 'What’s Grandpa think of this investment of yours?' It was obvious bait, but that couldn’t keep the edge out of Jeremy’s fierce, 'He is not our grandfather.' 'Careful,' Annalise warned him as she rummaged for her keys. 'You already destroyed the family. Don’t destroy my future, too. Door.' "

- asks Lucas if he feels safe with his brother and when Lucas says he's my brother Jeremy says that's not what I asked 

- Cat hesitates when telling Jean how many siblings Jeremy has. She says there are three, one sister and two brothers. The older brother is an absolute tool and she nervously pushes her fries around her plate after speaking

- The second brother is never mentioned and seems to have a big part in The Incident. Potentially also played Exy. Is unknown if he is fully related, half sibling, or step sibling. Most likely younger than Jeremy

Money 

- Jeremy keeps meticulous track of his receipts and how he spends his money. There are three different times it is pointed out that he keeps the receipt and puts it in his wallet

- "It was always best to have a paper trail when dealing with his mother's bookkeeper"

- gives Cat the remaining money in his wallet to help with groceries and rent even though "Cat was more concerned with how many hoops it took him to pull it together when he was permanently on his stepfather's bad side"

Miscellaneous 

- Jeremy avoids the cops sitting at the park. Says there was little to no chance he'd know them, and no reason they'd recognize him, but Jeremy kept his gaze forward and his mouth shut until they were passed

- Rhemann says he will call the cops on Grayson if Jean wants him to and that he will "send Jeremy away first". Could be because Jean said that he did not want Jeremy in the room while Rhemann was cleaning his injuries and he figured Jean wouldn't want Jeremy there when he was talking to the police or it could have to do with Jeremy hiding his face from the cops at the park

- has specific fun ringtones for everybody except his family. Becomes very tense whenever they contact him

- automatically calls Wayne's suicide an accident and then "grimaced like it wasn't at all the word he wanted to use" perhaps whatever happened, his family calls The Incident an accident instead of what actually happened 

- responds with " 'that isn't a joke,' Jeremy said, with an unexpected ferocity' " when Jean jokes about suicide

- Cat says no judgment when it comes to therapy and the right therapist can be life-changing and to look at Jeremy for proof. Insinuating that The Incident was fairly traumatic

[andrea-lyn]

Roswell New Mexico - Master Fic Rec Post

See under the cut for thirty-four total recs, predominantly Malex. There's also 10 additional in the "Recs Less Travelled" project here.

a few drinks and some conversation by @christchex

Michael Guerin makes a friend who isn’t his sibling, an ex, or a sibling’s ex.

Astriferous Sea by hrhbrittany, Sismyn

Alex has always been the baby among the sirens in the Dead Sea. Michael is performing beard services for his sister. Communication is a little wishy-washy.

This AU came out of nowhere and smacked me right with the ‘I’ve always wanted this and I just never knew’. It has sirens and rescues and bad guys and false relationships and real marriages and rings and drama and romance. It honestly reminds me (in the best way) of an exciting romance novel and I’m so jazzed there’s still one part left to it.

The Bachelor by Sweetgirl2019

After the events of high school, Michael, Isobel & Max moved to California while Liz, Maria & Kyle stayed in Roswell and Alex went to war overseas. Once his enlistment period ends, Alex gets thrown into something that brings him and Michael back together again.

So I think this might be my favourite to see updated right now. It should be a run-of-the-mill fluffy AU, yet the author threw this incredible curveball by using the alien background in a canon divergence to turn The Bachelor into both a romantic dramedy for the boys, but also keeping the looming threat of people finding out about aliens in the background. Also, I think this is top tier pining that you will actively feel in your own chest, that’s how good it is. 

blink back to let me know by haloud - Roswell New Mexico

Alex doesn’t have important conversations over the phone when he can avoid them. It feels too much like going in blind. But in some ways, the phone makes it easier–it’s easier to break when no one’s looking.

It’s Mylex and the 5th in a series, and every part is worth reading, but I definitely re-read parts 4 and 5 a lot. It’s so well written and the dynamic is mwah and I love how Kyle fits into this. One of my favourite pieces in this is how Kyle reacts to his father in relation to Michael & Caulfield and it’s an amazing read.

built this house on memories by @villanellve

He wakes up eight years in the future, and everything is strange, but Alex is there.

YOU GUYS. If you were to write a list of tropes I adore, this would be way up there at the top because of how much I love it. I am a sucker for a character having to be removed from their situation to learn (whether it’s an alternate universe or the future or the past), but this one is so achingly painful and perfect and hopeful. I love the callout that the situation is almost too hard for Alex, I love the resolution at the end on Michael’s part, and you could just soak in the happiness and comfort of their future lives if you let yourself.

Can’t Get No by one_flying_ace

“They’re on round two already,” he says, tilting his head towards the truck again, “or maybe three.” Guerin grimaces, and that’s fair; it’s his brother, after all. “You know how they’re feeling. Could I handle it, if you stopped-” being in control, he doesn’t say, but Guerin shudders. “I’m good, Alex. Just keep the hell away.” (Or: alien sex rocks don’t make them do it, but they sure do help.)

Sex pollen/sex-or-die fics are pretty much a requirement, but this is my absolute favourite and I have re-read it more times than I can tell you (let’s put it at six or seven?) The restraint that Michael has in this is amazing, but the mental images of it are incredible as well. I loved Max and Liz’s secondary presence as well and how each character was tonally perfect down to the little things (like Max not noticing Michael’s sex marks). What a good. What a hot. What amazing.

Constant as the Northern Star by celzmccelz

Michael stares at Kyle. “But I’m a guy! How can I be pregnant?” Kyle looks embarrassed. “Well, you appear to have a fully functioning set of female reproductive organs—or, I mean, like, the kind of reproductive organs that are associated with a double X-chromosome in humans, so I’d assume that you probably became pregnant when semen was introduced into your reproductive tract—” “Jesus Christ, Kyle!” says Michael. He could have happily lived the rest of his life without ever hearing Kyle Valenti say the words “semen” and “reproductive tract.” Kyle’s eyes widen. “Have you been having unprotected sex?” “Oh my God, I am not having this conversation with you!”

Yes, going in, there are some warnings to be cognizant of. It’s mpreg, there’s a lot of medical stuff to go through, but I think this is my absolute favourite of the mpregs I’ve read and it actually comes down to Michael’s support system outside of Alex, namely in Kyle. There’s no sudden BFF bracelets being given, but that morality that makes Kyle Valenti who he is, that’s right there. Also, given that this is an mpreg fic, it delves into family and plot in a way that I haven’t often seen. Plus, you get the ‘getting back together’ Malex that I so deeply crave.

Contigo me encontré by beautifulcheat (Katalyst), ladynox

The Lockhart House was once a home, although it was never a happy one. Steeped in tragedy, it still stands today, in the heart of Old Town Roswell, attracting ghost hunters and those seeking to catch a peak of something from beyond the veil.

Contrary to popular myth, it wasn’t currently haunted (except by one paranormally talented docent). It was Michael’s favorite job and the best part of his summer home from UNM. Or at least was until Alex Manes was hired to man the gift shop, complicating an otherwise fun and easy job.

everywhere on earth you go - @evepolastried

Across the room, he can still see how Michael Guerin is looking at him. And that’s something different, something new, something so very familiar. The thrill of nerves, of guilt, of want. Alex smiles, and he starts to sing. (OR: Alex Manes grabs his guitar and gets the hell out of Roswell in 2008, and he leaves behind a letter. Here’s what happens ten years later)

I love this. This one has something incredible, and it’s something I called out, but it has this amazing work with pace. There’s a frantic moment at the bar and it’s chaos, and you feel it. It’s rushed and wild and crazy, but then everything slows down and it gets perfect. There’s Michael, there’s Alex, there’s music, and it’s such a great ride.

Family Matters by @bestillmyslashyheart

Isobel is telepathic. Most of the time she ignores it. She used to pick up on other’s people’s emotions but she’s long since learned to tune that out. Until one night she can’t. Someone, somewhere is in such a state that it’s spilling over and she’s left to deal with the brunt of it. Or, Michael keeps things close to the vest until he can’t. The night after Alex leaves him at the drive-in, everything he’s feeling bubbles up inside until it spills over onto Isobel. Suddenly he’s left with no other choice but to open up.

This is an early fandom piece, but I still think it’s held up to an immensely amazing rate. Not only that, but I love how it delves into powers, Michael and Isobel’s relationship, and the incredible idea of spillover, which I still actively wish would become canon because of this fic. I think it’s so IC, especially with Michael’s active wish not to talk about it that he screws himself over in his sleep and seriously, it’s such a good read for both Isobel & Michael stuff, but also Michael & Alex.

the first who ever did - nostaljinks

Five times Michael saves Alex + 1 time Alex saves Michael back.

I feel like there aren’t enough words that I can heap onto this of praise. This fic is well-written, well-plotted, well-thought out, well-everything. It’s a beautiful emotional roller coaster and will make you ACHE, but in a great way. It also is the right amount of long that you want more, but you also get it, and it’s just as quality as the rest. ABSOLUTE must read.

fish bowl by @sabrinachill

Alex makes a series of phone calls and bad choices that lead him directly here — an Airstream on the edge of a junkyard with a distractingly attractive mechanic showing him how the dining table converts into a bed that he can sleep on for just $75 a week. It is, of course, completely absurd. But there’s something cozy about the fuzzy yellow blanket on the bed/table and the sparkling sunlight streaming through the mostly-clean windows, in the smell of leather and motor oil and aftershave and summer storms, in the hopeful half-smile on Michael’s face. That’s his name — Michael. Alex’s potential new roommate and landlord. (AKA An AU About Quarantined Roommates Who Fall in Love)

I highly recommend anything by @sabrinachill, but this fic is a really clear argument about why. It’s an AU that involves quarantine, and you might think ‘oh, I’ve read that before’, but then it will take you down the unexpected road that you didn’t expect to go down, but as soon as you take that twist, you instantly realize how much better it is that way. Hats off to the clever plotting not just in Fish Bowl, but other fics! 

Funny How Things Never Change - @waroftheposes​

“What can I do for you?” Michael asks, turning to face Alex. Alex can tell the moment that Michael’s mind registers who he’s addressing, because the polite smile drops from his face and the hat falls from his hand. He stands there, eyes wide and unbelieving, looking at Alex. Alex takes a deep breath, willing his racing heart to settle. “Well,” he begins and is his voice shaking? “For starters you can get your stubborn ass over here and give me a divorce.” – (A Sweet Home Alabama AU)

Yooooo, guess who was bereft when she thought she lost this link. It was absolutely me. This AU makes me happy in so many ways, especially the storms in the desert motif that keeps coming back around, and also that it’s messy. I like that it’s not cut and dry, that it goes right up until the wedding, and that it takes some real talk for them to get back together. I love fics where they all get to be human and this one is just so good. 

I Know Nothing Stays The Same by aewriting

“Alex doesn’t believe in miracles until one happens to him. His father has a hammer in one hand and Alex’s throat in the other. As Alex’s consciousness fades, he’s dimly aware of movement. His father’s about to swing the hammer, and this is how Alex will die.” When an unexplainable force puts a stop to Jesse’s attack in the shed, Alex and Michael are forced to go on the run. Leaving Roswell is an easy decision, but navigating the consequences of that choice months and even years later proves to be much more complicated.

I think this one became a must read very early on, but then it’s continued to deliver. There’s been a few stories that delve into the characters getting therapy, but there’s a whole chapter here where it genuinely feels cathartic as we go through the process with Alex. This fic also is an excellent and long version of an AU I think that we’ve all wondered, about what would happen if they ran away, and it’s so well written and so real that I know I will be re-reading this a ton. Like many of the others, why I love it is because it’s not perfection, but it’s the kind of real where I want to wrap myself up in it. 

i won’t go, i can’t do it on my own by @queersirius

alex tries to let go by giving back the pieces of michael he’s kept

Millie has a bunch of AMAZING AUs (guys, the 10 Things I Hate About You is something I never thought I’d get, especially from a favourite author), but i think this one is actually my favourite, especially when it comes to the ship piece that Alex has. Again, when I talk about ‘fics that make me want to be better’, this one was one. The writing is engaging, the characterization is fabulous, and the emotions are so honest and real. Then there’s this line, like a gut punch:  “Because it’s the last thing I have of you,” he admits. “The last piece of you I have to let go of.” which I love because it’s still Alex’s journey, an honest attempt to offer closure (if closure is wanted). 

in some other life - @spaceskam​

michael tries to build a time machine, but ends up in a different reality all together

There are a lot of these that have been written and they are all quality, but I love this one especially because of how we get into Alex in the other universe, get the glimpse of this unknown Michael, but also the scene that strikes this one out for me is that Alex doesn’t want to let him go. I love that Alex gets to be selfish, that he begs for him to stay, and that we don’t get the automatic happy ending in that, but there’s still the hope for it. Also, Alex the Angel, unf. 

intimate encounters of the third kind by @alexmanes

Three years after Antar and its people take Earth under their wings, Roswell becomes the epicenter for human-alien relations between both planets. It doesn’t take very long for Alex Manes to find himself embroiled in a scandal that threatens this intergalactic partnership, all thanks to a beautiful man named Michael Guerin who is not nearly as human as he claims to be.

Okay, so, if you like No Love Like Your Love, the truth is that you have this fic to thank. This was my first introduction in RNM fandom as to what a really amazing fic could be that incorporated the royalty elements into the pairing. Once 1x12 aired and we met Michael’s mother, it was pretty much a done deal that I wanted to do something that played with that, but this is the actual inspiration. It’s well plotted, it has a great ensemble cast, and plays with the kind of care that it takes to know your plot inside and out, but also to leave breadcrumbs that guide the reader along. It’s very methodical in the sense that nothing is by accident and it has you on the edge of your seat.

It’s a long road back to you by @magsthemagical

Michael finds out that Alex is dating Forrest and he’s okay with it, until he’s not. Maria suggests a double date to show they can all hang out as friends. But they can’t… not really. [OR the one where Michael & Alex realize that they belong together and so they say goodbye to their respective relationships and start anew]

Honest truth time - in terms of ‘ships, while I always love people to ship and let ship, my personal preference for both Michael and Alex is one another, so both Maria/Michael and Forrest/Alex aren’t things that I usually seek out when trawling Ao3. This fic is so good to all parties involved. No one is a villain and I appreciate that they get to talk about things like Alex’s reticence to do certain things in public, but also being aware that Alex deserves to have something new as much as Michael.

Last Stop: This Town by @ubiestcaelum

Someone asked what it would have been like if Michael had gone home with the Evan’s and I couldn’t let it go.

Am I cheating because I requested this? idk, maybe, because another one I requested will end up here too. I am addicted to the idea of Michael getting the support system he needs, but THIS FIC takes it to the most impossibly amazing level and fleshes out the Evans parents in such an incredible way. I love that it’s not super sunshine and rainbows, but it’s an honest telling of raising kids (and maybe too many kids versus what you expected). I know this is only in progress (several today will be), but even as it is, it’s worth reading multiple times, because I know I have.

let me count the ways by @queersirius

liz ortecho isn’t allowed to date until her snarky, determined-not-to-date brother, alex ortecho, does. luckily, one of her suitors has a plan. well, max goes to isobel for a plan, which involves getting their brother, michael, to woo alex. or, the 10 things i hate about you AU

Obviously this needs to be here as I desperately pleaded for it to exist, but it’s so beyond what it might be as a mini tumblr ficlet and has become a whole world. It’s not just a great Malex story, it’s an amazing story for all the characters and really fleshes out a world, but weaves in the RNM characters perfectly, but also gives me a dynamic I want more of, in Alex being an Ortecho. It’s not quite finished yet, but Millie has never steered us wrong and I can’t wait for more.

Loathly by @aewriting

When King Manes and his sons are caught illegally hunting on Antarian lands, King Noah gives King Manes a choice - correctly answer a riddle or accept death. A year-long search for the correct answer ensues, leading the youngest son of the king, Alex, to strike a bargain with a mysterious woman who claims to know the answer. This is an AU of the Arthurian legend “Sir Gawain and the Dame Ragnell.”

Love at First Sass - @daffietjuh

Taking a class of 30 high school kids on a school trip to an Air Force base was about as exhausting as it sounds, luckily, the Captain giving them the tour is perfectly capable of handling a group of rowdy teenagers. Michael may be slightly in love Okay, so first of all, if you haven’t read any of the author’s other work, you should. The AUs are fantastic and the hockey one is still one of my favourites ever, but this one also just was exactly what I needed. It was sexy and flirty and fun, but also fit their personalities perfectly!

Everything in the Michael Sanders AU, by prouvaireafterdark which is a fantastic series that gives us what we all wanted, which is Walt Sanders giving Michael the home he deserved (and getting one right back).

My love is a life taker by @jocarthage

By the time he turned 15, Captain Alex Manes had been to every war zone and unofficial conflict the United States of America was involved in. It wasn’t regular practice, or even heard of, for a Colonel to bring his son along on combat missions; the exception was if the child had been identified as Time Aware, able to travel in time along their own timeline using stolen alien technology. So here Alex Manes was, 28, and ducking bombs, killing who he’s told to. On his way back from a mission, Alex slips into another timestream. It should be impossible. But he can hear a child crying and he heads towards the sound. This is the story of how Alex saved Michael and Michael saved Alex, with lots of time travel shenanigans and angst.

This story is incredible for so many reasons and one of them I continue to praise is the balance. It’s an Alex driven story, but you can break his life down into friends, mission, family, and Michael, and often those elements combine, but there’s never any update that doesn’t give you enough (imo). It’s excellent writing with engaging OCs and wonderful plot, and the most incredible love story.

not in this world (or the next) by @hannah-writes

It isn’t until he realises he can’t find the keys for his fucking truck anywhere and that there’s mail on the table addressed to Mr M Evans that Noah called him ‘Evans’, too. He fumbles inside the wallet that he’d managed to locate and pulls out a New Mexico licence with his picture on it; he doesn’t have a black eye and a split lip in this one, his hair’s tamed and he doesn’t look like he’s gone three days without showering. His date of birth is stamped, clear and correct, but then where his name should read ‘Michael Guerin’, it reads “Michael Evans’ and the address registered on the license is that of Max and Isobel’s childhood home. Noah had also said ‘your mom’s’. Not ‘Mrs Evans’. It feels like a bucket of ice water’s dumped over his head as he finally accepts that something is very, very wrong. (aka, the fic spawned from a tumblr prompt about Michael waking up in a parallel reality.)

This one, guys. This is an absolute beast of angst and love and a really well plotted story, but also is really amazing for how it creates Mikey, but also creates motive behind what drives both Michael and Mikey in ways that are the same, but also different. Genuinely, this fic is a great read because you get so much attention to the characters while also driving along the relationships, and who they are. 

nursery sharks by christchex

Six firsts in the Sanders household and a second.

Otherwise Engaged by JustAsSweet

Alex Manes was perfectly happy with his job at Colden Records but when his visa is rejected and deportation looms, marrying his assistant Michael Evans is his only option. And when they make a trip to Alaska to see Michael’s family, everything becomes a lot more complicated.

AKA: The Proposal AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway.

Shadow Work - @myrmidryad

After his discharge from the Air Force, Alex Manes is working as a shade - a professional ghost hunter - when Michael Guerin tracks him down. Alex left Roswell thirteen years ago and never went back, but overnight Michael’s family has vanished and the supernatural activity in Roswell has exploded, and he wants Alex’s help. Featuring: ghosts, more ghosts, metaphorical ghosts, and a lot of sex without talking about feelings. Also missing family members, government conspiracies, and gratuitous worldbuilding.

No, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. I can’t rec this enough. Literally, this is a novel-type rec. If this were a book on a shelf, I would be shouting that you need to go read it, because it is literally good enough to be a published work on a best-selling list. It’s so fucking good. Every time you think it can’t get better, it does. It has nuance and plot and world-building and it is So. Fucking. Good. I could sit here and sing praises all day and it still wouldn’t be enough. Please give yourself a holiday treat and read it.

The World Forgetting, By The World Forgot by Anonymous

Michael and Alex erase each other from their memories. It does not go according to plan. [Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Roswell style]

I mean, I could rec anything by Anonymous and it would be worth your read. They’re so good and so in character,  but this one is my favourite. It’s angsty as fuck, don’t get me wrong, but it plays with the movie plot in such a Roswell-specific way that makes sense that I honestly never even compared or contrasted it to the movie past the first few beats. The pain is visceral, and the memory loss segment is incredible, but also delivers on a positive ending. 

To Trust Love by @laughsalot3412 

The prisoner’s voice sounded like home. He could have been raised in Roswell, the way his accent stretched his vowels. He definitely hadn’t been. Alex would have remembered eyes like those. (AU where Alex Manes goes on an undercover rescue mission in Caulfield Prison and forms a bond with one of the prisoners in the process.)

I don’t have enough words in the English language to praise this one. Honestly, I don’t. For one, the pace and the length is perfect. That we got the parts as quickly as we did was honestly such a treat, but then every part was just as high quality as the last. There are chapters in this one that made me go, “holy shit, this would’ve been a novel I read”, and then there are little emotional impacts where the tone shifts, but it works so well. It’s SO HOT, and the AU is so perfect, and also helped inspire the one that I wrote last night with the “genie”. 

Unwind Me - delgay

“Think you can manage that? Sitting next to me, without picking a fight?” Michael challenged. “Can you?” Alex returned. “No idea,” Michael admitted with a sideways grin that never failed to make Alex’s stomach turn over, “But I’m eager to find out.” Alex is avoiding everyone, but he can’t seem to escape Michael.

This whole fic is intensely amazing, but it got on my rec list for the absolutely electric scene with the dancing that was absolutely beyond incredible. You also get Michael courting Alex, which is something he utterly deserves and I love the way Michael goes about it. 

we feel so american by thepredatorywasp

“Papa’s on the spaceship again?” River asks, his bright green eyes welling with tears and his face growing red. “Comin’ back?” “Of course he is,” Alex says, smoothing down the son’s hair and adjusting the Mickey ears atop his head. “Always.” There is no easy way to explain to your three year-old that not only is he an alien, but his Papa is an alien and that apparently, Michael loves leaning hard into irony because he has gone on Space Mountain approximately ten times over the course of four days.

LOOK. I LOVE A SWEET KID FIC. The next rec will prove this, but this one will melt your fucking heart. I love it because it’s not perfect and easy. There’s difficulties, there are issues, but it’s Michael and Alex and their baby boy in Disney and if you do not come away feeling warmer from this, then I just don’t know. 

We’re Waking Up Slow by myrmyriad

“I think need a little time to process all of this. Um. Storm’s getting closer and I don’t really wanna get snowed in here, so…let’s just talk later, okay?” What if the storm that blew in during S01E10 came in a lot faster and heavier, and Alex was snowed in at the junkyard?

Again, fic that makes me wish that I could write as well as this. This one makes you feel it all. You’ll feel the cold, the wet, the storm, the pain, the hope, the healing. You feel the connection between Michael and Alex, and you’ll be left wishing at the end that this had been how canon went, but also that it’s justifiably not that far off from how it could have, had they taken a different tack, because of how well it’s written. 

What’s Up, Pregnant? by Marie_L

Michael Guerin is broke, practically homeless, and a knocked up secret alien. What now?

Speaking of kid fics, this mpreg is one that I really like, because if nothing else, it introduced the concept of mpreg using pods to me in the fandom, and I kind of went, “YES, of course”. I love that it’s got everyone rallying, but I mostly love the psychic connection between Michael and his baby, and the softness of loving sugar and Alex. 

With Love Overflowing by Nestra

"We both agree that this is not the place we belong, right? Please say yes."

Michael tossed his hat on the coffee table and dropped onto the couch. "If you mean that your dad's been dead since CrashCon and some kind of crazy shit is going on, then yeah, I agree."

(This one was for me for Secret Santa, it is just THAT GOOD that I want everyone in the world to read it)

x marks the spot (where we fell apart) by catching_paper_moons, preciousthings

“Don’t write it off,” Alex says, and Liz is so relieved someone is coming to her defense, even if it’s someone who already knew beforehand. “Liz and Kyle have ideas, and there are people in this room with literal superpowers. It’s pretty much our only option.” “Our only option?” Isobel scoffs. “What are we, Ocean’s Eleven?”

[little-pissbaby]

@amazingphil @danielhowell just making extra sure these words gently caress your eyeballs. there's also a special message for viewers at the end.

That sense of impending doom is TERRIFYING. There is no feeling quite like knowing your life is very possibly about to end. It makes whatever pain you were feeling at the time forgettable, all that's left is every alarm bell going off at once saying something is deeply and dangerously wrong.

I had a heart attack when I was 21. I talk about it all the time, it was the catalyst for having genetic testing done and revealing that I have a brand new genetic variant causing Long QT Syndrome type 11. All I remember from that day was the feeling deep in my chest that something was wrong, but I was in a hospital so I was going to be fine. I'm terrified of overexerting myself and having a second one.

I had a stroke when I was 24, it was a stupidly rare complication of my wisdom teeth extraction. I know it was the worst headache I'd ever had up to that point, but all I remember is staring at florescent lights and screaming that I needed a hospital.

I've had several anaphylactic reactions before, once where I stopped breathing completely. It took two doses of epi to get me restarted. All I can hope is that my brother wasn't too traumatized by basically watching me die.

I've faced death countless times and it does not get easier. My partner couldn't sleep if I coughed even a little, it took three years for him to be okay sleeping as long as I was awake if he want. Three years for him to stop lurching upright in bed at the slightest hint of a cough or whispered "help me".

My point is that both sides of this are immensely traumatic. Tell your people you love them, hold them a little tighter, a little longer, give the homies extra goodnight kisses. Anything to help keep the trauma at bay while you fulfill non-reschedulable obligations like, for instance, an entire world tour.

I wish I could lend an ear to listen and a voice to commiserate with. I wish I could provide a comprehensive list of banger jokes relating to medical trauma and the lives led by both those of us who are sickly and not meant for this world, and our partners who live in a constant state of Hospital Time™.

Enjoy that olympian blood, philly 💪use it to win an athletic Dan vs Phil 🥇

p.s. Phil, if no one has told you yet, you should definitely see a rheumatologist about the possibility of you having Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. I think Dan will have lots of fun reading articles about it and going "SEE? I TOLD YOU THAT'S WEIRD", which is exactly how my partner reacted to my LQTS and EDS diagnoses

p.p.s. to everyone who listened to Dan and Phil tell a genuinely terrifying story that nearly ended in tragedy, it's okay and very normal for that to make you anxious and afraid of your own upcoming tests and procedures. my inbox is always open if anyone needs to talk, whether it's about upcoming medical things and the fear they bring or it's about literally anything else because you just need a distraction. love you guys 💙💜

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings. posting two chapters today just because chapter 11 was so short in comparison! Beware... chapter 13 is when things start to get heavy again </3

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 12

[Prev] [Next]

While Law was busy with work, Shachi and Penguin had become more akin to doting brothers than friends during your post-op care… but today your apartment was bustling.  Penguin had taken the liberty of using your phone to invite Ikkaku, who brought Nami and Usopp in tow.  As you laid in your bed fighting off a mild headache, the sounds of chattering and cleaning in your apartment filled your closed off bedroom.  At one point, something heavy had clattered against your kitchen floor, followed by harsh shushes warning the perpetrator of keeping silent so you could catch up on sleep.  Not like that made a difference.

You checked your phone that was set charging on your bedside table.  1:00PM.  You were thirsty.

Standing, you grabbed your empty glass and began to pace out of your room and toward the kitchen.  Your recovery had been incredibly swift, and you had achieved a total of five days off from work with the help of the weekend.  Your incision site healed quickly with a barely-visible scar, and while you still had a bit of recovery left, you had begun to feel much more like yourself.  Helped in part by your official diagnosis: endometriosis.  Not that you were surprised by that, but it definitely felt good to have an actual answer to your troubles.  The few cysts that were found on your ovary were also benign, and your call with Dr. Robin to discuss your results left you feeling surprisingly refreshed.  Things felt like they were finally starting to look up.

You rounded the corner of your apartment and entered your living area, the smell of pine and lemon-scented floor cleaner invading your nostrils and making you grimace.  Your gaggle of friends were seated around the kitchen table, digging into more left-over chocolate chip cookies that, at this point, had to be beyond stale.  

“Hey, there’s the woman of the hour!” called Usopp.  “Sorry if we woke you up.”  He flashed a toothy grin as he popped a cookie into his mouth.

You smiled, meandering to the sink to refill your glass with fresh water.  “Nah, it’s all good!  Thank you guys for cleaning up and spending time with Bepo, I really appreciate it, you know.”

Nami leaned back in her chair, tossing her arm over the back of it to twist her torso and gaze at you.  “It’s no problem at all, it’s the least we could do!  You deserve all the rest you can get after everything that’s happened.”  Her friendly grin quickly morphed into one of mischievous intent.  “Though, if you wanted to Venmo me, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Nami!  The poor woman is struggling!” Ikkaku placed a firm slap to Nami’s shoulder, making the red-head wince.

You were laughing as you approached the table to sit with your friends, politely denying the stale cookies that were offered to you.  “No no, she’s right.  I’ll think of something I can do to repay all of you for all the help you’ve been to Law and I.  I don’t feel right not treating you guys back in the same way.”

Shachi stretched his arms above his head and cracked his knuckles, uttering a deep groan at the feeling of his shoulders extending.  “Give your future kid my name, and we’ll call it even.”

“No fair, I wanted my name passed down!” shouted Penguin.

You sputtered a laugh against the lip of your glass.  It still filled you with a bit of discomfort to discuss the topic of pregnancy so soon, but your friends’ lighthearted attitudes made your feelings a bit easier to cope with.  “Not to disappoint, but Law and I already have names picked out.  None of you were on the list.”

Two disappointed sighs came from your husband’s best friends, but Ikkaku excitedly leaned forward against the table with her head in her hands.  “What are the options?”

You circled one of your fingers around the rim of your glass.  “Law really wanted his family to be honored in some way, so right now our favorite choices are Cora, Rose or Rosa, and Lami.  He said he felt a little strange having our kid’s first name be his sister’s, so if we have a daughter her middle name will probably be Lami.”

Usopp sighed dreamily.  “He’s so sentimental, isn’t he?”

Ikkaku giggled.  “Never say that to his face, though, or he’ll–”

The front door cracked open.  From the corner of the room, Bepo picked his head up.

“Say ‘what’ to my face?”  Law entered his apartment with a grouchy expression, closing and locking the door before shrugging off his light jacket and placing his hat on a hook behind the door.

“Hi, honey!” you called, your eyes immediately lighting up at the sight of your husband.  “You’re home early!”

Law stretched his back and wobbled toward the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing an energy drink from the door.  “Well, I had a surgery this evening, but the patient ended up coding.”

Nami cocked her head.  “What does that mean?”

“He croaked,” replied Law, taking a sip and assuming a protective stance behind your chair.  “Can’t perform surgery on a dead guy.”

“Aw, that’s too bad…” Ikkaku chimed in, her excited posture manifesting into a more forlorn slouch.  “You must see that a lot, huh?”

Law shrugged.  “Not really, most of the time it’s elderly people who die before they get treatment.  It’s hard when you’re old.”

You reached a hand up behind you, placing it on your husband’s shoulder.  He took his free hand and wrapped it around your own.  “Well, I’m glad you got to come home early.  Everyone spent the entire day cleaning the house while I was in bed.”

“Is that why it smells like pine cleaner in here?” he asked, somewhat confused.

“Usopp spilled the bottle on the floor,” Nami piped up.

“It was an accident,” the curly-haired man replied with a perturbed hiss.

—

The plate of cookies was discarded, the kitchen was finished being cleaned, and your friends had all departed for the night, leaving you and Law cuddling alone on your couch as a brain-dead comedy rerun played on the television.  Bepo remained on his plush bed in the corner, his entire body upside down and snoring away peacefully.  You laid against Law’s chest as his lean hands ran up and down your sides, ghosting the skin beneath your cotton shirt with pleasant electric tickles that made you stifle a giggle occasionally.

“Hey, can we talk?” Law asked, eyes still trained on the television, but clearly not absorbing any of the half-assed jokes and canned laugh track.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, shifting a little against his body to face him.  You reached over his head for the remote that was sitting on the arm of your couch, pressing the power button to turn off the television and envelope you and your husband in a calm silence.

Law smiled weakly, his golden eyes now trained on your own.  “Did you get a call back from your doctor?”

You nodded.  “I do have endometriosis, and the cysts on my ovaries are benign.  She actually said they were quite small and said if they started causing me more trouble, then they could be dealt with.”

Your husband ran his hand over the back of your head.  “And how do you feel about that?”

You sighed, leaning your head against his chest, listening to the way his heart thrummed against his rib cage.  “I feel… strange.  It’s weird to know that this entire condition was under the radar for my entire life until we started wanting to have kids.  And everything’s been happening so quickly, sometimes I feel like the entire world is spinning around me.”

Law hummed.  “I bet… it’s been a hard few months.”

You closed your eyes, your own hand trailing fleeting touches up and down his shoulder.  “Thank you for sticking with me, Law.”

Your husband picked his head up to gaze down at the top of your head.  “Why would you have to thank me for that?”

“Well…” you began, struggling to form words.  You felt too ashamed to face him head-on, and chose instead to keep hiding your gaze in his chest.  “We’ve been married for over two years, and I still haven’t been able to give you a baby like we’ve wanted.  So the fact that you’ve stayed with me–”

“Let me interrupt you right there.”  Law’s tone was firm and authoritative as he interjected.  “Do you remember what I told you before I got my own test done?  That I’m your husband and that I refuse to leave you over an idle issue?”

You dug through your brain’s memory bank, finally settling on the vision of the two of you in much the same position as you were now.  You smiled faintly.  “Right, the issue that might be resolved.”

Law pinched your cheek in his fingers.  “Will be resolved.  And do you remember what we promised each other on our wedding day?”

“Law, why are you quizzing me?” you questioned, voice barely higher than a whisper, as you finally lifted your head and made eye contact with your husband.

He didn’t answer you, instead continuing his own train of thought.  “On our wedding day, one of the promises we made to each other was ‘in sickness and in health.’  I feel sick to my stomach when I imagine a world where I leave you over this.”  His hands continued rubbing your back as he spoke.  “No one could have predicted this outcome.  No one could have ever expected a reality like this, but it’s a reality that we’re sharing.  I’m happy without children just as I’d be happy with children.  What matters the most to me right now, at this moment, is that you’re still here with me.  Right now, your health and wellbeing is more important than any hypothetical child.”

Law’s words were rapidly provoking heavy, salty tears to well in your eyes, which quickly overflowed down your cheeks and into the fabric of his shirt.  One of his hands caressed your cheek, feeling as your jaw shifted and you sniffled away the snot that was also forming in your sinuses at his words.  You blubbered, a weak smile crawling onto your weary lips.  “How do you always know how to make me cry?”

Your husband’s chest bounced slightly with his own chuckle.  “You bring the sap out of me.”

You laughed into his neck.  “For someone who claims to be shit with emotions, you’re surprisingly eloquent.”

He responded to your words by placing a tender kiss on the crown of your head.  “Well of course.  I need to make sure I keep my wife smiling, after all.”

After a few brief moments of gentle caresses, your tears subsided enough for you to ask, “When we get the okay from my doctor… Do you still want to try again for another baby?”

Law smiled.  “For as long as you want to keep trying, so do I.”

[dysfunctional-doodle]

TMNT FIC RECS

I got someone asking to recommend some angst TMNT fics so I decided to make a list of my own! I’ll recommend some of my favourite fics then a few of mine for those that haven’t read them :)

NOTE - I’m such a Mikey fan that almost all of these are Mikey-centric angst, my bad. Still very very good. Top tier shit:

Ok so I’m going to cut this because this list is massive, please keep reading!!

NOT MY FICS:

Feed Me Poison ‘Til I Drown (TMNT 2007, All Media Types)

Summary: Mikey’s tired of not being taken seriously by his brothers. Karai is very persuasive. As such, Mikey joins the Foot clan…mere months after Leo is sent away for training.

Notes: This is wonderfully written. A what if based on a cancelled TMNT 2 sequel where Mikey joins The Foot due to him feeling unappreciated and a burden. I personally love a unreliable narrator, and this captures that perfectly - you don’t know whether Mikey is being manipulated, or whether his actions (and how antagonistic they get) are of his own free will and not brainwashing. Chefs kiss. (Ao3)

All works by Justalittleobsessed.

All of them are perfect angst ranging from mild injury to absolute gut wrenching angst. Please check all of them out, they are some of my favourites for sure. (Ao3)

Radio Silence (All Media Types)

Summary: Mikey isn’t answering his shell cell, which isn’t like him, prompting his brothers to go look for him; Mikey has no idea what’s going on, but the rain is making nice sounds and moving hurts and there are noises coming from his shell cell that he should probably pay attention to.

Notes: Less angst and more hurt in this one, but still brilliant on capturing exactly how it feels to wake up from a serious injury, alone and confused. Perfectly describes shock and has a decent dosage of comfort after. (Ao3)

Missing Comedic Relief (TMNT 2003, All Media Types)

Summary: Michelangelo is the light of the family, he's always cracking jokes no matter what situation they're in. His family doesn't realize it, but his jokes help keep up the team moral. They always break the tension and make it easier to do what they need to do. So when Mikey isn't part of a mission, his family can't help but notice how empty their team felt. To make matters worse, the reason Mikey isn't part of their mission was because he was missing.

Notes: I love this one because the amount of emotional angst from the brothers not knowing where Mikey is and missing what he means to each of them is just amazingly written. The brothers don’t know where Mikey is but know he’s hurt and in trouble, and it largely follows their point of view as they search everywhere for him. Mikey himself suffers quite a bit too (cage fighting against a bunch of Purple Dragons, not fun) and it ends with comfort! Huzzah! (Ao3)

The T Subjects (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Mikey and Don face their worst fears when they're separated from their brothers by ruthless scientists.

Notes: If you want angst, this is the place to go, seriously. Explores the terrifying reality of what would happen when any of the turtles get captured by scientists who want nothing more than to study them. It’s heartbreaking reading about how Donnie is trying to keep it together for Mikey, but ultimately fails when he is separated from his youngest brother. And Mikey - god, he goes through it too much. His childlike faith in Donnie and genuine fear is written so well.

I will note that this is private, so you can only read it if you have an ao3 account.

I’ve Been Afraid of Changing (TMNT 2007, though can be read as general)

Summary: “You can’t make me go,” Mikey blurts, too loud. “I won’t. I don’t want to.”

“Jesus,” Donnie mutters, rubbing his forehead. He’s already so fed-up with Mikey after like three seconds of conversation that Mikey can feel his eyes start to sting. “The last thing I want to do is fight with you, Mike. I thought you liked Cowabunga Carl.”

It’s not fair. Donnie’s so smart. He’s tired and overworked and unhappy, but he’s smart. How can he get this one thing so wrong? How can he not know Mikey as well as he used to, like all of those years of being each other’s best friends and co-conspirators and secret-keepers from where they were relegated to the “B Team” aren’t as intrinsic and important and fundamental to him as they are to Mikey? How can he look at Mikey, right in the face, and not understand him at all? Something breaks.

Notes: a kind of AU of the TMNT 2007 movie where Mikey develops depression/has a mental breakdown due to how the other brothers have drifted apart. His birthday is forgotten, Donnie and Raph keep fighting, he hates his job - and he can’t take it anymore. It’s horrible reading Mikey’s breakdown, but it ends on a much happier note! If you want emotional angst this is FULL of it. (Ao3)

Nothing is Ever Simple (TMNT 2003, All Media Types)

Summary: When breaking up an arms' deal goes bad, Mikey is taken and Raphael is on the trail of his brother's kidnappers. You don't mess with family.

Notes: Mikey gets kidnapped and Raph is left following a small trail to find him. This fic is one of my favourites because of the way it focuses a lot on Raph and his own personal demons, and how much Mikey means to him. Also, Mikey gets tortured in a twisted way, and seeing him never give in is always a plus in the old angst book. Overall, though it seems it’s about Mikey it’s mostly about Raph. His own reflections, fears and loyalties to family. (Ao3)

Never Really Over (ROTTMNT)

What appears to be another routine Purple Dragons bust takes a devastating turn when one of the brothers gets infected with leftover krang sludge. Or; kraangified Mikey

Notes: what can I say about this one apart from Mikey gets kraangified. It’s peak angst, I promise. Absolutely amazing, read it. (Ao3)

That’s where the blood is supposed to be! (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Sometimes, you just get hit a little too hard (aka: mikey blames everything on low blood sugar for ~4K words)

Notes: Mikey is seriously injured but doesn’t tell anyone due to the high tensions between Raph and Leo. Come on - physical and emotional angst? Sign me up! Very good and accurate descriptions of injury and gore, and the build up of this one is just perfect. You know something is horribly wrong, and it’s torture. Poor Mikey. (Ao3)

A Change In Outbreak (TMNT 2003)

Summary: Shredder showed us that there are there infinite number of realities, thousands of dimension and each of them differ from the last when it came to the turtle brothers. This one is no different then the one we've known our Turtles to be part of, however there is one little detail, one small thing that's different. Instead of Donnie getting mutated, it's Mikey.

Notes: long time fans probably all know about this fanfic, it’s a classic! Based on the original idea that Mikey would be double mutated in the Good Genes arc rather than Donnie, it retells the events if Mikey had indeed been infected. It keeps it fresh by adding new elements and plot points, as well as a lot of angst surrounding the brothers after seeing their youngest and heart be reduced to a monster. Plenty of emotional and physical angst all round, it’s perfect. (Ao3)

Heated Arguments Don’t Warm a Frozen Family (TMNT 2003, All Media Types)

Summary: “He’s gotta be around here somewhere, I just kno-“ he suddenly tripped over an object buried in the snow.

“GaH!” Leo shuddered, pulling himself up quickly and brushing off the cold substance.

“Leo???”

Looking back to see what it was that caused his fall, his heart nearly launched into his throat. “Oh no.”

“Leo, what’s wrong?!” Raph’s voice echoed again from the phone.

Leo got onto his knees, ignoring the cold snow that he initially was avoiding. He anxiously brushed away a few inches of loose fluffy snow to see the familiar pattern of a shell. “Shit-“ He muttered under his breath “Get Donnie and come to my location now!”

“What’s going on?! We’re on our way now!” Raph sounded like he was already running.

“I found Mikey.” Leo’s voice cracked as he hung up the phone before Raphael could respond.

Notes: one of the first fics I read on this fandom and still one of my favourites. Lots of emotional and physical, Mikey centric angst in this one! (Ao3)

Everything by BrightLotusMoon

Seriously, they got me into this fandom from a casual watcher to artist and fanfic writer! Full of Mikey angst, and creator of the Empath! Mikey head cannon that lives rent free in my head and has inspired many of my own material! Read them all, they’re all bangers.

Revenge Always Tastes Sweet (But the Aftertaste is Bitter (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Actions have consequences and they come back with a vengeance when it's least expected. A trip to the Hidden City gives one of the brothers a taste of just how deadly making enemies with a yokai can be.

Notes: What, not Mikey angst?? Not this time - Donnie gets the full angst attack when he gets poisoned from an unknown enemy. Lots of well described hurt, end it has a happy ending! (Ao3)

Hyperactive Hyperthermia (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Snow day ruined for the second year in a row! They had expected a break, but they really couldn't ever catch one. How could they have known mystic fire was so uncontrollable?Maybe standing on the ice lake was the first bad idea.

---

OR: The brothers go out for a snow day, but it quickly goes south after multiple avalanches and other shenanigans leaves Mikey without any winter clothing and trapped with Donnie under the snow.

Notes: this one…this one is heartbreaking, honestly. You have to read about Donnie being trapped with a freezing Mikey, and he knows this but is helpless to do anything but watch it happen. The emotional angst in this kicks you deep in the gut, it’s terrible I love it. (ao3)

Nowhere Boy (TMNT 2003, can be read as general)

Summary: He was twelve years old, and he realized that his dreams were always the same. Every single one. "We need you. We'll find you," those indistinct figures would say, their eyes glinting in the darkness, shadows stretching out to him like hands. But he always woke up before they reached him.

Notes: I LOVE this one. It has lived with me ever since I read it, something about it is so heartbreaking. It explores the feeling of being lost despite not knowing why, and how much you miss someone despite never knowing them. It actually inspired a fic of my own, which I will link in my own fics list. I don’t want to spoil it, but please read it. Mikey centric angst heaven (ao3)

Unfamiliar Familiar (ROTTMNT/TMNT 2012 Crossover)

Summary: What the hell is Michelangelo supposed to do? Having woken up in a strange world with new brothers? Why is everyone here so nice? Why won’t they let him leave? The Rise brothers stumble upon a traumatized Mikey, and when they learn the reason behind all that trauma, there is no way they’ll let him experience that again.

TLDR: Rise brothers adopt 2012 Mikey

Notes: I am a sucker for slight 2012 bashing and this one fulfils it without being overly mean. 2012 Mikey has been traumatised by his brothers and his enemies, and finally gets the chance to heal and start again when he is thrown into the rise universe. Very popular fic, I highly suggest you read it despite it not being complete. So much emotional angst I swear. (Ao3)

Going under (ROTTMNT)

Summary: “Have a pleasant swim, little turtle!” they snicker.

Mikey’s eyes widen.

“NO!”

Then, he feels weightless.

He’s falling.

And falling.

And then —

His body hits the water with a loud splash and his vision flashes white.

Notes: Mikey almost drowns. Peak angst. (Ao3)

Sunshine in the Rain (ROTTMNT)

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Michelangelo is taken by a government scientist named Bishop, how will he respond to this new environment, and more importantly, will his brothers be able to save him before he breaks? Let the game begin.

Notes: Mikey sacrificing himself to save his brothers from Bishop? Yes please, and thank you author. Seriously, this has it all - introducing Bishop in the rise universe, and Leatherhead! Of course, lots of angst in the form of experimentation. But that’s what we’re here for, right? (Ao3)

Quicksand (All Media Types)

Summary: Trapped in darkness, no one can hear you, no one can see you, no one knows where you are. The cold lingers, the fear rises, who will help us? Who even knows we are down here? The only people who might know are probably dead. Help us, someone please help…

Notes: Mikey and Donnie get trapped in a collapsing lair when earthquakes year apart their home. Leo and Raph are the only ones that can get to them, but the snow storm is stopping them. This is so brutal in the way NO ONE gets a break, the angst just keeps coming. Everyone gets it. I love it. Read it (fanfiction.net)

Ghosts of New York Past (TMNT 2003)

Summary: The turtles and Splinter have been transported 100 years into the future through Cody Jones' time window. Future New York is a lot to take in. But when the dust settles and the sun goes down, the big unanswered question is still there: how are they supposed to fit into a time that doesn't belong to them?

Notes: light angst, exploring the more emotional and wise side of Mikey that we don’t see often in the show. (Fanfiction.net)

Questioning Choices (TMNT 2003, All Media Types)

Summary: A fun family trip to the beach turns ugly when Michelangelo is injured and his brothers have to make difficult decisions that go against their morals in order to save him.

Notes: I don’t know why but I love this one too much. Mike’s slowly getting worked whilst the brothers have to go against their morals and steal from an ambulance? Perfection. (fanfiction.net)

Suffered to Slumber (All Media Types)

Summary: "Breathe quick, breathe slow, put the gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Any way you like, you're gonna die down here."

Notes: this one is also BRUTAL. Mikey getting buried alive? It’s all the angst you think and somehow more.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year (TMNT 2003)

Summary: What was supposed to be a pleasant Christmas Eve with family and friends suddenly turns to one of terror and uncertainty for the turtles. Will they make it through this Christmas together? Or will one fall?

Notes: one of my favourites. Mikey can’t keep out of trouble on Christmas Eve, and ends up paying the price this time. (Fanfiction.net)

It’s Much More Complicated (All Media Types)

Summary: After a late night patrol, Mikey falls ill. At first it's nothing to worry about, but something that seemed to be harmless turns into a race of life and death.

Notes: we love our favourite character getting deadly sick

An Agonising Secret (All Media Types)

Summary: Mikey tries to hide an injury from his brothers, but soon discovers that it wasn't as harmless as he thought it was...

Notes: more hidden injury? Yes please. I highly suggest look at this authors other works as well, lots of angst

Underdark (TMNT 2003, can he read as general)

Summary: He's hanging upside down in the middle of the great underdark, weighed down by a half hysterical turtle in the middle of a bunch of pipes and water and rock that are conspiring to kill us both off, and Leo still manages to sound like he Has A Plan.

Notes: do I need to even introduce this classic? Everyone knows it, it’s amazing.

MY OWN FICS

Helpless (TMNT 2003):

Summary: “No one comes. No one swoops in at the last second, nor does he manage to break the cuffs at the perfect moment. Instead, there is a collective shriek from the beasts below him as they all lunge forward in a hungered wave, their curled claws scraping against his scales and hideous jaws dripping with froth and drool.

Heart racing, Michelangelo hisses at the rodents. However, his warning is ignored by their destructive hunger. The hiss cuts off into a yelp when the first rat bites down on the exposed area between his skin and his shell, its grimy paws digging the pink flesh underneath away.”

What if, in the episode I, Monster, Mikey didn’t get out of the restraints in time? What if he was left, helpless against hoards of rats with no one to help?

TLDR: Mikey gets attacked by rats. It doesn’t end well. What can I say, I’m in a horror mood.

I’m Lost (But I Don’t Know Why) (TMNT 2003)

Summary: “He is mourning the loss of someone he never knew, doesn’t know, but it hurts all the same. He thinks back to the nunchucks, and the orange tape wrapped around them. The comic books hidden under the couch. The extra plate that he sets up everyday, has been for the past three weeks. The gap in their formation.

Missing, missing, missing, his mind chants, but he can’t know what. He’s lost, and can’t remember why.”

There have always been four of them - Donatello, Raphael, himself and his father. Or at least, that’s what Leonardo had thought. But something is missing. They are mourning the loss of another they have never even known. They are lost. But why?

TLDR: a curse makes everyone forget Michelangelo. Leonardo knows there’s something missing, but he doesn’t know why.

All I Ever Wanted (TMNT 2003)

Summary: Donatello vowed that the future he had seen would never occur. He wouldn’t let it. But he’s failed. He’s failed, because Mikey is bleeding out beneath him, his arm severed under a stormy sky. And no help is coming in time.

TLDR: Perhaps the future will not repeat itself, but it can rhyme. How Mikey, despite Donatello’s efforts, loses his arm in the cannon timeline.

Hunted (TMNT 2003, can be read as general)

Summary: What starts out as a late night adventure in the woods beside the farmhouse turns deadly when a group of hunters catch Mikey off guard. Alone and wounded, Mikey struggles to find his way to safety.

TLDR: Mikey is chased by a group of hunters with no way to contact his brothers.

The Shoebox (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Post “Snow Day”, Mikey tearing his coat has drastic consequences that result in him freezing and slipping into brumation.

TLDR: Box turtles, when hibernating, can have no detectable pulse or heartbeat. None of Mikey’s brothers are aware of this and believe that they have just watched their youngest brother die.

Don’t Wander Off (Stay Where You Are) (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Box turtles will keep walking in attempt to find their home if they ever get lost, even if they die doing it. Mikey shares that same instinct.

When he gets lost, he keeps walking. He finds home.

TLDR: Mikey centric angst where he keeps walking despite growing weaker.

Promise (ROTTMNT)

Summary: After the events of the movie, Mikey discovers that, with the increase in his mystic power, he gains the ability to see the future. However, every time he does, he forgets some of his present.

Year after year, a gift twists into a curse, crumbling the relationships between brothers and ultimately ending in a terrible price. But Mikey made a promise all those years ago, and intends to keep it.

TLDR: Mikey sees the future until he forgets everything of his present.

Vs The World (ROTTMNT)

Summary: The Kraang almost-invasion has been hard on the entire family. Michelangelo knows this, and knows he needs to be the one that keeps them all together, like stubborn orange glue.

But his brothers aren’t talking. They aren’t leaving their rooms, trapped in their own traumas. Mikey tries - so, so hard - but the silence is suffocating. He leaves the lair, only to find a stray cat left for dead. And suddenly, he isn’t alone anymore. But he is still breaking, slowly.

TLDR: Mikey find Klunk in the Rise universe whilst dealing with trauma and depression. I am bad at summaries, so give it a quick read if you want.

Wow, this is long. Happy reading @nat06cas, @brightlotusmoon and @sparklingsunkissedsoul and everyone else!

[empressuxu]

Dear Soulmate

╭┈ • ┈ ୨୧ ┈ • ┈╮Chapter 2 ╭┈ • ┈ ୨୧ ┈ • ┈╮

Prev ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ Next

The sun is bright today. Y/n thought, or maybe it was the week she spent hosting her late-night show. She doesn't know, nor does she care. All that this short girl could think about was finding gifts for her newfound soulmates.

“I guess we could start with the easiest.” Y/n pulled out her phone. She checked her notepad app, double-checking she got the right store. When she had mentioned her art-loving soulmate to her aunt, her ever-supporting aunt sent her to the location where one of her friends owed her a favor.

Y/n pushed open the door and was greeted with a rainbow of colors. She's been to stores in the Hidden City before, but this one made her feel like she was in another world. Everything just feels so lively and bright. She was now certain that Mikey was gonna love his present. 

“Did you need help, young lady?” an airy female voice asked. 

Y/n turned around to see a tall girl with bright orange wings tucked behind her. Wings that remind her of a monarch butterfly. Her eyes are large and bright, just like a butterfly. The shorter girl couldn't help but be captivated by the way they reflected the lights. 

“Um, did you need help?” The butterfly girl asked again, confused as to why Y/n was just staring at her.

“I-I do,” Y/n said, feeling slightly embarrassed that she was just staring at her like a creep. She quickly reached into her bag and took out the paper her aunt gave her. She was told that it had a list of things every artist needed, as well as a message to the staff that she was told not to read at all. As much as she wanted to read it, she didn't want to disappoint her aunty. 

She handed the note to the taller girl. “My aunty told me to give you this note.” 

The taller girl opened the note, wondering what it could say. As she read the note, her face began to turn pale. She looked over to the shorter girl; she just couldn't believe that this small-looking human was related to that huge and scary thing of a yokai. She must be adopted, the girl thought. “I-i-i’ll get started on this list. It's gonna take a second, so why not look around.” 

The s/c girl nodded and walked away from the clerk. She started to wander around the store, looking to see if she needed anything herself or if something caught her eye. Lucky for her wallet, nothing seems to interest her. 

“I guess I should text Aunty that I made it to the shop.” As she began to text her aunty, a text notification popped up. Clicking on the banner took her to a newly made group chat, the members being her and the turtle brothers. 

Donnie: I thought it was easier for our better half to have a group chat with us in it.

Leo: Dont lie u know it wast just ur idea. 

Mikey: Yeah! It was all of our idea >^< 

Raph: movin on r u free today

Y/n: im running some errands (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

Y/n: but ill be free later ヽ(‘ ∇‘ )ノ

Donnie: Good, don't make any plans for later. It appears that someone couldn't keep their mouth shut(Leo) and has told our father of your existence.

Donnie: We’ll come by your place to pick you up around 10. 

Leo: Make sure to dress cute! Maybe something blue? 

Before Y/n could reply, the group chat blew up. They began to argue about the color that she should wear. She giggled, and it was clear to her that they all had a color that was her signature color. It's cute, she thought. 

“Excuse me.” the butterfly girl spoke softly, sacred to speak any high just in case she's like her aunt. She placed a medium size bag into the s/c girl's hands.“It's all done and paid for by your aunt.” 

“Oh well, thanks for the help.” Y/n began to walk to the door but stopped right at the door. She turned around to say bye to the clerk, but she was gone. Maybe she went to the back, she thought to herself. Well, I have other stores I need to get to if I want to make it on time. With that, she left the store and began to her next destination.

The rest of the day went by quickly for Y/n. Before she knew it, she was at home putting on the finishing touches on her outfit for the night. It took her a second to find an outfit that incorporated all of her soulmate's colors, but she did it. 

There was a knock on her window. She jumped up in excitement, quickly putting on her backpack, she ran to the window she opened to see Leo leaning against the railing. 

He dropped to one knee, eyes closed, one hand on his chest and the other stretched out to her. “You’re handsome soulmate, is he-” His eyes finally opened to see her, and he was stunned. He had joked about her wearing something blue, but she wears his color. Granted, she was wearing her other brother's colors, but still, the blue striped shirt just looked so good on her. “Nice shirt.” 

She giggled and, taking his hand, she pulled herself through the window. “I'm glad you like it. “ 

“Like, no, no, I love it.” He pulled her close. “I love it on you.”

Y/n blushed at how close Leo was; she hadn't been this close to anyone in a while. Not since her last boyfriend was back in high school. Thinking back to him made her heart hurt. She gave him her heart, and what does he do?  He took her heart and broke it. He ruined love for her for a while. Every relationship after that never lasted long. She couldn't bring herself to trust any of them with her heart, so she was always closed off. He changed her for the worse. Her loved ones could tell her whole personality had changed. 

Her aunt couldn't stand her like this, so she helped her sweet niece. Giving her the tools to help her find her soulmate with a warning that she couldn't it may take her forever to find them, or she might never find them at all. Y/n didn't care; just hearing that she could find them was all the hope she needed to make her love again. 

She didn't like the girl who became; she didn't like how her family worried for her, how they fought about whose fault it was. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Leo’s hand on her cheek.”Are you ok there, princess?” 

“Y-yeah.” Y/n rubbed her cheek against his hand, trying to cover her mind.”I guess I'm just a little nervous to meet your dad.” 

He chuckled, “Well, don't be, trust me, he is more than happy to meet you.”  He pulled her closer to the latter and picked her up bridal style. “Well, I’m gonna have to hold you for this..“ 

“No-not that I mind, b-but can I ask why this is better.” She nervously asked him. 

“Because we’re about to go on a wild ride. So hold on tight.” Leo jumped over the railing, making Y/n squeak out of fear. He quickly pulled out his katana and sliced the air, for a second, Leo panicked. Out of all the times his mystic power could fail him, it just had to be this just as he started to brace himself to take most of the damage from the fall. A blue portal opened. Leo chuckled, feeling so relieved that his powers didn’t fail him. 

The pair fell through the portal. Y/n felt weightless as they fell, opening her eyes. She was met with concrete walls covered in graffiti and some kind of weird green substance. Her ears picked up on the sound of water running. “Are we in the sewers?” 

“Yes, we are.” He began walking towards the only light source near them, a tunnel covered with four familiar colors. Giving her one last hug, he started to place her down. “While I don't mind this oh-so-tender embrace from you, it's probably for the best that we walk from here, or else I’m gonna be murdered by my brothers.”  

Y/n, feeling sad about the lack of warmth, held out her hand.“Could we at least hold hands?” She asked sweetly, hoping her blue Romeo would say yes. Lucky for her, he found her so cute that he couldn't help but grab her hand. 

“How could I say no to you, my hermosa princesa.” He brought her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. 

Feeling his lips touch her hand, the poor, shy girl felt her heart race. His lips felt so warm and slightly rough. She wondered how they would feel about hers. Y/n could feel her face turning red at the thought of kissing him. Her mind was spinning; she never thought of kissing any of her last boyfriends this early. 

“Hey.” Leo tapped her forehead, the warmth from his three fingers brought her out of her thoughts. The blue-masked turtle could not help but feel worried for the girl. This was the second time today he had to pull her back to earth. 

“I’m sorry if I worried you.” She squeezed his hand to try to keep herself grounded. “I get lost in my mind a lot. I blame myself for getting nervous easily.”

He started to tung her along.”Well, can’t say I blame you.” Flashing her a smile, his unoccupied hand flared out dramatically. “I am your most handsome soulmate.” 

Mikey popped out from the light tunnel  “If you get the title of handsome soulmate, could I get  the cutest?” 

“I wanna say yes to the both of you, but I’m not sure that would be fair to Raph or Donnie.” Y/n took her hand back from Leo’s to open her bag. 

Leo pouted at the loss of warmth from his soulmate. 

“I got you guys some presents.” She handed each a gift box.” I would prefer it if you wait until everyone gets theirs to open it.” 

“Wells, let's hurry up and get you in there.” Mikey dragged her into the tunnel. 

Once inside, she could see Raph and Donnie seated on some bean bag chairs, watching a movie. She noticed a slightly worn-out recliner chair right in the middle of them. 

Donnie quickly took notice of the h/c haired girl and got up to greet her, with his brother in tow. ”Hope you got here alright.”

Y/n nodded “I got here ok. I was a little surprised to see that you guys lived in the sewers.” She once again reached into her bag.”I got gifts for you and Raph.” She passed them their gifts. 

She pulled the last gift from her bag. “I also got a gift for your dad. He is here, right?”

Leo walked over to the worn-out chair and spun it around to reveal a short, chubby rat.  “He's right here, princess.” 

“Y/n, this is our dad, Master Splinter.” Raph walked over to his dad. He ruffed his dad’s white hair, pulling a couple of strains from his bun “Dad, this is Y/n” 

“So you must be my son's soulmate.” Splinter walked to her. “My sons did so good to find someone so beautiful. Hopefully, my grandchild will get their mother's looks.”

Y/n face quickly turned red. She could feel her pulse quicken, the thumping almost audible in her ears. They just met his sons, and he's already talking about getting grandchildren. She’s only 21 and still relying on her aunty to get her through college. How is she supposed to take care of a child when she can barely take care of herself? “Um, it's nice to meet you, Master Splinter. While I thank you for the complaint, I think grandchild would have to wait until sometime later in the future.”

“I guess that's ok, but just don't wait too long. I'm not getting any younger.” Splinter sat back down on his chair.”And call me father.” 

Y/n smiled, she felt so happy that he asked her to call him father. Her father died pretty early in her life, so she barely remembered him. She walked over to the rat man. “Well, I hope you like your gift.” 

Splinter took the gift from her shaky hand. He looked up at the girl; she was shaking. She was nervous about the gift. She didn't have much to go off for his gift. The brothers only told her that he was always watching something on the TV. 

He ripped the wrapping paper like a child. Paper is flying everywhere. A flash of green fabric peeked through the flaps of the top of the box. Splinter's eyes widened in curiosity, reaching into the box, he pulled out a bundle of fabric. It felt like a blanket but had arms like a hoodie. 

“It's a blanket hoodie. I have one at home, but in pink.” She started to play with her hair. “It's super comfy to watch movies in it. Since you don't have to take your hands out of the blanket to grab things.” 

Splinter sat up on the recliner and put on the hoodie.”This does feel nice.” He sat back down and snuggled against the hoodie. “You’re now my favorite child.” 

Y/n felt giddy “I’m your favorite. But I'm not even your kid.”

“You will be when you marry my idiot sons.” 

Her face burned, she could feel the heat spreading like wildfire all across her cheeks and ears. “Well, that would be true, I suppose.” She said nervously, her palms suddenly clammy. “But  I think that another conversation to have later down the road. 

“Fine.” He turned up the volume.”I’ve embarrassed you enough to go back to my sons.” 

Raph came behind Y/n and picked her up.”Raphs got ya.” He walked away from his dad with Y/n in tow to another room. 

The room was dark; the only source of light was from the rows of game machines lined up on the wall. In the middle of the room were Donnie, Leo, and Mikey sitting on bean bags with their gifts in their laps. Raph placed Y/n on the bean bag chair next to Donnie before sitting down next to her.

“Well, I guess you boys were waiting for me, so why don't you open your gifts, starting with the youngest.” 

Mikey squeaked in joy, ripping into the box. He was so happy that she let him go first. He just couldn't wait a second longer; his curiosity was getting the better of him. Once the paper was gone, he opened the box to see sealed spray paint and a green canvas bag. 

“When you told me you got all your paint from the dumpster from behind the art store, I just had to get you some new ones.” She crawled over to Mikey and took the bag from his hands. “I also got you a bag. I just had to get it the second I saw it, look at the strap it has little orange turtles. Isn't that cute?” 

Y/n, in excitement, got a bit too close to Mikey’s face to show him the little orange turtle. Mikey could feel his face heating up from how close she was. He wasn’t even sure that she knew how close she was to him. If she did, he was sure she would turn red. He thought back to her question and couldn't help but think that the little turtle wasn't even nearly as cute as she was right now. “Yeah, super cute.” 

He quickly took the bag from her hands and put away his new paints. “Donnie, it's your turn now.” He said, trying to get the attention of Y/n away from him. He normally doesn't mind attention from his loved ones, but he swore his heart was gonna explode if she kept looking at her with those soft e/c eyes. 

“I am aware I was just waiting on you to stop hogging all the attention.” Donnie teased as he began to unwarp his present, trying very hard, not careful not to rip the paper. He didn't want anyone to know how excited he was; his present felt a bit heavy compared to everyone else. He opened his box to see a few game consoles and a couple of motherboards.  His heart began to race in excitement; it was hard to get his hands on complete consoles; it was always parts and bits from the game stores. Things they would throw away when they couldn't fit it. So, getting his hands on complete ones was hard. 

“Sorry that yours isn't brand new like Mikeys, but when your brothers told me that you like to make things out of old tech, I thought you would like this more since you can destroy them without feeling bad about taking them apart.”

“Thank you, I will not lie. I would have broken them down and felt bad after I realized what I did. So great thinking.” 

Y/n felt so relieved from his answer. She was trying hard not to seem like she had favorites, and while she had no problem buying them things, she wanted the gifts to feel personal. It was her first gift to them, so she needed them to feel special. 

Donnie closed the box and gently put the box on the ground.”Leo, your turn.” 

“Finally!” Leo quickly ripped the wrapping paper off his present. He hastily opened his box to see a blue basketball jersey and matching blue shorts. He jumped up in joy. “How did you even know my size?” 

Y/n giggled, feeling happy that he was so excited.”I asked Mikey.” 

Leo has never felt so happy in life as at the moment. He's never had a girl inserted in him before, much less one that even thought about getting him a gift. No one besides April, but he can’t count on her since she is more like a sister to them at this point. 

“I can’t wait to wear this next time we play.” He put the clothes back into the box “Raph, you may now go, my big bro.” 

Raph began to open his present. He was trying his best now to rip the paper, but it was easier said than done. Once the paper was gone, he opened the box to see a brown bear with a red ribbon on its neck. Picking it up, he could feel how soft it was, 

“It's from Teddy Bear Town.” Y/n played with her fingers nervously, trying to distract herself. “I figured since Mikey said I could call you my teddy bear, I should get you one.” She mumbled, feeling her face heating up. She couldn't believe she said that to him. 

Teddy bear, she called him her teddy bear. Raph knew Mikey said to call him that as a joke, but for her to take it seriously made his heart race. Raph could feel the heat rise to his cheeks. He could hear his heart beating fast; it was so loud. He hoped that no one could hear it, but at the same time, he hoped Y/n could. Ralph is not always good with his words, and he knows it. So he would hope that when needed, he could show her how he felt so she could know that she does like her. 

“Raphs gonna sleep with it every night.” He held the teddy bear close to his body, giving it a small hug.

“I hope you do.” She gushed quietly.”I hope y'all like the gifts. It was a bit hard for me to find the perfect gifts for y'all.” It was really hard for her to find them since she hadn't been to the Hidden City in a hot minute. She was really happy that her aunty was willing to help her so much.”I just realized I should tell my aunty that you guys like the gifts. ” Y/n pulled her phone out to message her aunty. 

“Does she live in the Hidden City or up here like you?” Donnie inquired 

“Yeah, she does. She owns a couple of businesses. I mean, I don't know what they are, but I know she lives in one of them.” Y/n answered. 

“Will we ever meet her?” Mikey asked, wondering what kind of person her aunt was or if she was yokai or human like her.

Y/n tilted her head. She would have to find a day that her aunt wasn't busy, but she was sure that they could make it work. “I would have to figure out a day that works for her since she's always busy, but probably not now since she is busy around this time of year.”  

“Well, just tell us a day, and we’ll make sure to clean the day,” Raph said, finally putting his bear down and back into the box. 

Leo clapped his hands, gaining the attention of everyone. “Now that's settled, why don't we play some games?”

[possibilistfanfiction]

More surgeon suffering pls! Maybe bea learning more about Ava’s injury?

[definitely sooo gentle & no present-day suffering lol but here u go]

//

‘you can ask.’

beatrice’s gentle, callused, careful fingers still along your back, their patterns you can’t quite decipher gone quiet. ‘i would never do that.’

her voice is so soft and so relaxed, it’s not at all a reprimand; you can’t say it aloud, not yet, but you love her. you roll over so that you can see the gentle planes of her face through the silvery-blue light from the moon and the night outside her big windows, the blinds not yet drawn. she looks at you openly, patiently, like there’s nothing she wants to take from you; everything she wants to give. you know — in your heart and through your friends and your family and your therapist telling you over and over again — that you have so much to offer: you’re beautiful and funny and very smart, and you love the world more than anyone you know. you also know that beatrice is sometimes less sure of herself than she seems: she clams up every time her parents call, unable to tell them to, unequivocally if it was up to you, fuck off; she loves to be lazy and sleep in and wants no one to know; she still is in the habit of downplaying accomplishments, anything from a surgery she mastered (impressive in that you know how hard it is) to a new route she climbed at the gym (you have no idea but lilith was jealous and you can imagine it’s hot); she’s a horrible cook.

‘i know,’ you say, and you do. you let a finger drift down the bridge of her nose, count her freckles, feel the chapped bow of her lips beneath your thumb. she has a scar, small, through her left brow, and you trace it. ‘what’s this from?’

she smiles, always so quick to understand, always so generous. it makes you feel like you could light up the entire world sometimes. ‘i was five; my brothers were trying to teach me how to rollerblade.’

you think about it: beatrice’s gap-toothed grin and the delightfully terrible bob haircut she had for so much of her early childhood, the photos making you laugh when, unprompted, lilith showed you a few weeks ago when you’d all had dinner at a good oyster place near bea’s house. ‘can you rollerblade now?’

‘no, it frightened me. i never learned.’

‘putting that on the short list of things that scare you. good to know.’

she holds up her right arm so you can see the small scar on her elbow, the skin darker than before. ‘at university, i was drunk and my crush dared me to climb a tree.’

you can’t help the laugh it pulls out of you. ‘oh my.’

she nods. ‘yes, quite. needless to say, amelia and i went our separate ways fairly soon after.’

‘well, her loss. i’d have paid to see you fall out of a tree.’

‘i didn’t fall,’ she says. ‘i scraped my elbow on the way up, but i did continue.’

‘of course you did.’

she shrugs. you trace the scars across her chest, ones you love. 

‘camila told me you tried to go back to classes a week after your surgery. like, the day after you got your drains out.’

bea laughs. ‘yes, and promptly fell fast asleep about three minutes in.’

‘front row?’

‘well, the second.’

‘knew it.’

‘i can keep going, if you like. i have a good story about a scraped knee during field hockey at boarding school.’

‘homoerotic, i hope.’

she rolls her eyes, but based on her silence you know you’re right.

she lets you sit in it, easily, and her house is beautiful and warm and, you’re beginning to think — to hope — it might be full of your things one day, too. it’s easier to be brave here, but your words, the worst of them, still get stuck in your throat. ‘well, what do my scars tell you?’

she weighs it. ‘you know i’m more interested in cardio.’

‘you’re the smartest person i’ve ever met.’

‘well, you favor your left hand when you’re practicing sutures, and i know your left foot gets numb often. you have trouble with temperature regulation and walking long distances, but an easier time standing for the most part; your neck aches, i think all the time.’ she pauses. ‘your handwriting is abysmal, although i suspect that has nothing to do with your injuries.’

you’re about to start crying, but she makes things lighter, even now.

‘all i care about, ava,’ she says, soft and sure, a hand tangled in your hair and then gentle on your cheek, ‘is that you get the care you need, that you tell someone — me or anyone else who can help. and you can tell me whatever you like, if ever you feel ready.’

‘i can’t — i want to.’

she kisses your forehead. ‘like i said. it’ll always be up to you. i’m here.’

you take a deep breath. ‘my mom had a garden,’ you say. ‘she died, uh —‘ you get a little caught, stuck on the way her eyes looked when she wasn’t alive anymore, when you couldn’t move, when you were stuck for so long, screaming and so, so scared — ‘she grew all kinds of vegetables.’ your voice shakes but beatrice only nods. ‘and flowers. we were going to —‘ you sniffle and beatrice just wipes your tears — ‘i think she wanted to keep bees. i don’t even know if that was possible; we had a little yard. but everything grew.’

‘that sounds wonderful.’

‘it was, even though i hated eating my vegetables.’

beatrice laughs softly, admonishing in a way that’s harmless, fond. ‘you’ve grown so much since then.’

‘hey, i’ll have you know just today i ate, like, seven bites of a salad.’

‘very impressive.’

‘can i — not right now, because i think i’ll just cry too much, but — can i tell you more about her? i wish you could’ve met her.’ i wish i could remember her more; i can’t forget.

‘i would love that. and, if she was anything like you, i’m sure she would’ve lit up an entire room. it would’ve been an honor.’

‘bea, i really don’t want to cry again,’ you whine.

‘you should know,’ she tells you, a little firm, so there’s no argument. ‘she would be so proud of you. i know it; who wouldn’t be?’

‘that’s —‘ you bury your face in her neck, just for a moment, soft and warm and safe. 

‘would you like to plant a garden?’

‘in my tiny ass apartment?’

‘no,’ she says, and you can’t see her but you can practically feel her rolling her eyes. ‘here. i have the whole back yard and, frankly, no real interest in a lawn.’

‘i —‘ you back up so you can look at her, and her eyes are clear. ‘really?’

‘of course. i’m actually quite interested in self-sustaining agriculture, and the pacific northwest has great growing conditions for so much wonderful flora and fauna.’

‘wow. okay, but — it’s your house.’

she pauses. ‘ava.’

‘i just — you’re sure?’

‘i would really enjoy it, if you’d like. also, my friend marco, from the climbing gym, runs the community garden in their neighborhood and has been pestering me to meet you.’

‘you talk about me?’

‘of course.’

‘well, if marco will do all the heavy lifting, and preferably both of you not have shirts on, i’m so in.’

‘it’s february.’

you shrug. ‘you’re tough.’

beatrice laughs, and you sink into it, delight in it. you could light up the whole world, ava, she told you after two glasses of wine and half an edible the other night, entirely serious, crammed onto the small couch in your small apartment, your life expanding far beyond, past any walls you knew. 

‘next weekend, when we’re both off,’ she says, ‘we can go to the nursery nearby and get started.’

‘you’re —‘ the love of my life sits right on the tip of your tongue, but you kiss her instead. ‘thank you.’

‘thank you for telling me about your garden, and your mother.’

all you can do is nod, and then hold her after she turns over and falls asleep.

[lucidlivi]

I Can See You (I)

Series Masterlist/Warnings

Tag List: @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @perpetualabsurdity @antisocialcorrupt @heavenlyackles @anixiiee @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @deans-spinster-witch @k-slla @alternativeprincess @spnbaby-67 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl (if you would like tagged in this, please send me a message or an ask with the title so I can make sure to keep my tags straight!)

story takes place during filming of season two of supernatural so the ages will make more sense!

switching points of view indicated with italics

a little mini series for you, I hope you like!

All my life, the only thing I ever wanted was to be noticed.

I wanted my parents to notice when I had done well on a test that was hard for me.

I wanted my friends to notice when I was quiet or felt out of the loop.

I desperately wanted that cute guy in my biology class to notice that I had spent the entire semester taking detailed notes just so I could help him study.

I just wanted someone, anyone to notice me.

It was never me though.

It was always my older brother Jared.

It was like he always had to one up me.

Nothing was ever mine.

For example, whenever I would ace a test, Jared would somehow be offered some prestigious award for academics.

He hung out with all the popular guys, and the girls practically threw themselves at him.

It was like he didn’t even have to try.

It's only gotten worse since he'd landed a starring role on the new hit show Supernatural.

Jared didn't know if they would even make it past the first season, but the show was an instant success. It catapulted him to stardom. Girls from all over the world were crazed about my brother.

It kind of grossed me out.

I had to admit, I was getting a lot of recognition now too, but it was always (y/n) Padalecki, sister of Jared, and never just (y/n).

I mean I love my brother to death, he's the best, but sometimes it would feel nice not to be so, so invisible.

I stretched my muscles with a sigh.

I had finally landed in Canada.

I was going to be visiting Jared for awhile, while they filmed season two of supernatural. I missed him like crazy.

I was also taking a much needed break from fashion school in New York.

"Moose!" I squealed, spotting the top of my brother's head.

I could hear Jared groan from across the airport. I chuckled as he hated being called Moose.

I pushed through the crowd of people, finally seeing my brothers dorky face.

He rolled his eyes before pulling me in to a bone crushing hug.

"I missed you moose." I said as I squeezed him.

"I missed you too brat." Jared laughs.

He lets me go, setting me back on my feet.

"come on, Jensen's waiting for us back at our house." Jared said grabbing my bag.

"wait you and Jensen are living together?" I asked, my cheeks tinting with a blush.

"yeah, we decided to just rent a place together this season, it'll be easier, is that okay?"

"mmhmm." I nodded not trusting my voice to formulate an actual answer.

Jensen Ackles.

my brother's crazy hot co-star.

and according to him, best friend, besides me of course.

I met Jensen before they started filming season one.

Jared and Jensen went on "bonding" trips together, I guess to make playing brother's more believable. I had been invited on a few. Of course I was always pushed to wayside, but I didn't mind.

It gave me the opportunity to gawk at the eye candy that is Jensen Ackles.

He wasn't just hot though.

He was more complex then that.

He was kind, he was funny, he was easy to get along with.

and I was completely crushing on him.

It didn’t matter though.

It wasn't like he noticed me.

I was completely off his radar.

"how's design school?" Jared asked breaking the silence.

"I just needed a break I guess. It's a cutthroat industry, and I don't know if I'm cut out for it." I admitted.

"what of course you are, you're insanely talented! I mean why do think I always call you before award shows? I trust you to make sure I don't look like a dork!" Jared laughed.

"well I hate to break it to you moose, but you always look like a dork, the clothes aren't going to help you." I smirked, earning a punch to the arm.

"ugh thanks to you the entire supernatural cast calls me moose now!" Jared groans.

"well if the shoe fits." I shrugged earning another punch to the arm.

"I could always call you gigantor, if you like that better." I added pushing my brother's buttons.

"I think we'll stick with moose."

Jared pulls in to a condominium.

It's beautiful, fit for celebrities I guess.

"wow, living the high life I see." I said as my eyes traveled around the luxurious condo.

"It's definitely crazy."

I gazed at my brother, seeing his shoulders slumped over.

I can't imagine how he was feeling.

I mean his life basically changed overnight. He can't go out now without girls flocking him. He has no privacy.

I know he won’t let it show, but I could tell the pressure that comes along with his new found fame gets to him sometimes.

I walked over to my brother wrapping my arms around his tall frame, squeezing him again.

"I'm really glad you're here brat, it's kind of nice to have some sense of normalcy." Jared said running a hand through my hair.

"hate you." I whispered with a smile.

"hate you too." Jared smirked.

I stepped away from Jared, just as the door flung open revealing Jensen.

"is that baby moose I hear out here? "

I swallowed harshly as he came over wrapping his arms around me in a hug. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and I hugged him back, nonchalantly taking in his sweet scent.

"Hi J." I said quietly.

Jensen stepped back, letting his eyes rake over me. I couldn't help but shrink under his gaze.

It was intimidating.

I took this time to stare at him too.

He's different.

His muscles were more defined now, signifying he'd been working out for the role.

His hair was still short but messy.

He had a very light stubble on his face that made his jawline more defined.

He looked good.

Better than good.

He looked sexy.

I heard Jared clear his throat loudly, making me tear my eyes away from Jensen. A heat spread throughout my body.

I wondered what Jensen was thinking.

"Jensen and I have a meeting with the director, I'll uh help you take your things in and then you can get settled while we're gone." Jared said.

I nodded my head as Jared grabbed my bag from the trunk, taking it inside.

"it's nice to see you baby moose." Jensen said offering me a cheeky smile before getting in the car.

I bit my lip, hiding the blush that spread to my cheeks. I followed Jared in to the house, which was even more extravagant on the inside.

"I guess it pays to be famous." I said spinning around to get a complete view.

"I'm not famous, just lucky." Jared laughed.

"yeah that's why a fangirl followed me around in the grocery store the other day, asking me a million questions about you."

"wait that actually happens?" Jared laughed.

"more times than I would care to admit." I said joining in Jared's laughter.

our laughter died down, a comfortable silence settling in between us.

"uh your room is upstairs, the third door on the right, next to Jensen's, you sure you're going to be okay here?" Jared asked handing me my duffle bag.

"I think I'll manage."

"I'll be back soon."

Jared placed a kiss on my forehead, before going out to join Jensen in the car. I watched them drive away before going to find my room.

Jensen

Jared got in the car giving me a stern look.

"what?" I asked innocently.

"don't what me, dude that's my sister." Jared growled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I smirked.

"just keep your eyes away from my sister."

"I wasn't even looking." I laughed as I pulled out of the drive way heading over to the studio.

I was looking though.

She was different.

She looked different.

Her hair was longer.

She definitely grew in to her body.

She was no longer the lanky girl I had come to know.

I would be lying if I said my eyes didn't linger on her now defined chest.

She looked good.

Better than good.

She looked beautiful.

Fuck.

I shouldn't be thinking like this.

I mean this was my best friend's sister.

I know Jared would kill me if he knew I was thinking this way.

I better stop.

I didn’t want to though.

"hello, earth to Jensen." Jared said waving a hand in front of my face.

"sorry man, what did you say?"

"I asked if you were coming."

I looked up seeing we were in the parking lot of the studio.

I wasn't sure when we arrived, or how we arrived in one piece considering I wasn't paying attention.

"uh yeah sorry, just thinking about this meeting." I lied smoothly.

I just hope I can focus enough so I don't lose my job.

Reader

I finally settled in, unpacking my things and familiarizing myself with the layout of the house. It's been over two hours and the boys still aren't home.

I heard my stomach rumble.

I was starving.

I walked down to the kitchen, opening the fridge. I saw some ham and cheese.

Oh gosh a sandwich sounds good right now. I looked around in the cabinets, looking for the bread.

I finally found it, high up on a shelf.

Moose.

He needs to learn that not everyone is as freakishly tall as he is.

I stood on my tiptoes reaching for it, but alas I didn't get the height genes that Jared had. I huffed blowing a piece of hair from my face. I stood on my tiptoes trying again.

I heard a chuckle from behind me, causing me to snap my head back.

"need some help there baby moose?"

I blushed a deep red as Jensen came up behind me, reaching the bread with ease.

I could feel the heat radiating from his body just from the proximity.

I wondered what it would be like to be this close to him in a heated moment.

I let my imagination run wild for a moment before realizing he still lingered behind me.

He cleared his throat before stepping away.

I let out a shaky breath I didn't know I was holding.

"thanks." I whispered shyly.

"you know for a baby moose, you aren't all that tall." Jensen smirked.

"yeah, no Jar stole all those genes." I said causing him to chuckle.

"well baby moose I will gladly reach the bread for you anytime." Jensen said making me blush harder.

I'm sure I looked like an idiot from how bad I was blushing over his words.

"uh is Jared back?" I managed to choke out.

"uh not yet, they needed him to shoot a promo for the new season, he asked me to come check on you." Jensen said sitting down at the kitchen island.

I rolled my eyes at his protectiveness.

I was twenty two now.

I didn't need a babysitter.

"Jared still thinks I need a babysitter." I spoke as I took out two pieces of bread starting to make a sandwich.

"he's just worried about you."

"I can handle myself."

"I have no doubt about that." Jensen said.

I snuck a glance at him, accidentally meeting his eyes. He wore a smirk on his plump lips that got my heart racing.

"I have to, I mean now that you two are like major celebrities." I laughed.

"okay, hang on I was major celebrity before supernatural." Jensen joked.

I rolled my eyes throwing my cheese wrapper at him.

He dodged it with ease laughing at my antics.

"of course how I could I forget your starring role on Dawson's Creek."

"I don't know because I definitely made season six of that show." Jensen laughed.

“I never watched it.” I shrugged.

Okay that wasn’t exactly the truth.

I did watch it.

I watched it for him.

“well we’ll definitely have to change that.” Jensen said getting up from the island.

I let my eyes linger on his form as it retreated up the stairs.

I was hopeless.

I was completely hooked on someone I would never have.

I sighed sitting down and digging in to my sandwich. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

I heard the door open, seeing Jared walk in.

He sat down beside me taking the other half of my sandwich.

“I made that for me you ass!” I whined hitting his chest.

“yeah out of my fridge!”

I rolled my eyes.

He had a point.

“how was your meeting?” I asked as we ate.

“really good, we’re all excited for filming to start.”

I wondered what it would be like to be on camera. I definitely didn’t have a face or body for film.

“actually there’s this party tomorrow, for the cast, kind of like a kick off to the new season, do you want to come with me?” Jared asked.

I was never a big fan of parties.

Jared always tried to get me to go to high school parties but it was never my thing.

“I guess, but just for you.” I said booping his nose.

I finished my sandwich, making sure to clean up after myself.

“I’m uh going to head to bed early, I’m exhausted from the flight.” I said giving Jared a hug.

I jogged up the steps towards my room. I felt the heat radiating from the bathroom as I passed it.

I could see the door was slightly cracked.

I peaked in seeing Jensen in only a towel.

He was wiping the condensation off the mirror.

I couldn’t stop my eyes from traveling over his toned chest and back.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I stared.

I would give anything to be able to run my hands down his body.

I bit my lip, forcing my body to move away from the door before I was caught staring.

I crashed on to the bed, letting my thoughts linger on the gorgeous man.

I wondered what his lips tasted like.

I wondered how it would feel to have his hands caressing my body as we kissed.

I wondered how his body would feel on top of mine.

I choked back a moan as I thought about him in such an intimate way.

A loud knock on my door tore me away from my thoughts.

I quickly sat up, I could feel just how flushed I was.

“uh come in.” I squeaked.

I was surprised when Jensen came in setting a laptop on my bed. I gave him a confused look as he typed away.

“Dawson’s Creek season six.” He smiled turning the laptop towards me.

I laughed as I brought the laptop to my lap.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Jensen said walking towards the door.

“aren’t you going to watch it with me?” I asked slightly disappointed.

“oh no, I never watch myself on tv, but make sure you pay attention cause I’m going to quiz you tomorrow.” He said.

I rolled my eyes at his antics.

“Goodnight Jensen.”

“Goodnight baby moose.”

I hit play, even though I had already seen every episode he was in.

I watched anyways.

I watched until I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

I watched until I fell into a deep slumber, plagued by dreams of a man I know I would never have.

I woke up to a light pounding on my door. It was bright out, but still appeared to be early morning.

Jared strode in wearing running gear.

It was nice to see he still took his morning runs.

It was something that always made him feel at peace, helped with his anxiety.

“ugh what time is it?” I groaned throwing a pillow over my head to block out the sun.

“five am, come on a run with me.” Jared beamed.

“Jared normal people don’t go for runs at five in the morning.”

“good thing you’re far from normal.” Jared joked pulling the pillow away from my face.

“I don’t want to go for a run, I want to sleep.” I pouted.

“pretty please, for me?”

I glanced up at Jared to see him giving me the puppy dog eyes.

Damn.

He knows I can’t say no to his puppy dog eyes.

“you better get me an extra large cup of coffee after this.” I groaned throwing my legs over the side of the bed.

I threw on some workout clothes, making my way downstairs. I was surprised to see Jensen standing in the kitchen in workout gear.

Fuck.

I was uncoordinated, and the last thing I wanted to do was run in front of Jensen.

“you managed to get baby moose to come, impressive.” Jensen smirked.

I rolled my eyes grabbing a bottle of water.

“I uh hope you didn’t stay awake too long watching your new favorite show.” Jensen said laughing.

“It was alright, Pacey is definitely my favorite character.” I shot back walking past him towards the door where Jared was waiting.

“and what about CJ?”

“I mean he was alright in the beginning I guess, turned in to kind of a dick.”

“oh yeah how so?”

“I mean he did sleep with Audrey even though he knew Jen was in to him, kind of a dick move.” I shrugged.

Jensen huffed rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t write the script.” Jensen shrugged.

“It might’ve been better if you did.” I said, giving him one last glance before starting to jog.

I jogged at a steady pace, close behind Jared and Jensen.

I was smaller then both of them, so I took smaller strides.

I have to admit I did feel at peace.

I enjoyed the gentle morning canadian breeze nipping at my cheeks.

I was taking in all the beautiful sights around me.

I liked it here.

It seemed like we weren’t jogging for long before we were stopping at a little coffee shop.

“I believe I owe you an extra large cup of coffee.” Jared said glancing at me.

“I believe you are correct.”

“I’ll be right back, you want anything J?” Jared asked turning towards Jensen.

“nah man I’m alright.”

Jared nodded at us before disappearing inside the coffee shop.

It was silent as I stared at the quiet street, the town not quite awake yet.

“did you really hate CJ?” Jensen spoke making me glance at him.

“I think hate is a strong word, more thoroughly disliked him.” I laughed.

Jensen furrowed his eyebrows as I chuckled.

Was this bothering him?

“I like the guy who plays him better.” I spoke, not thinking about how it sounded.

I felt my cheeks heat up as I realized what I just said.

“oh well good.” Jensen responded, rubbing his neck nervously.

I was about to respond when Jensen grabbed my arm pulling me to his chest.

“Careful!” he shrieked as the coffee shop door flung open, almost smacking me in the face.

I swallowed nervously as he stared down at me, our bodies pressed together.

It felt even better than I had imagined.

“thanks for that.” I whispered tearing my eyes away from his.

I felt as if my heart would jump out of my chest at any moment from how fast it was beating.

I could feel his eyes lingering on me.

Jensen carefully tucked a piece of hair behind my ear that had fallen from my ponytail.

I shivered at his touch, feeling as if my body was suddenly engulfed in flames.

It felt good to be touched by him.

It felt heavenly.

I quickly jumped away from him, hearing Jared’s voice reappearing.

“what’s going on?” Jared asked looking between me and Jensen.

“uh baby moose is as clumsy as you say.” Jensen smirked, causing Jared to laugh.

I rolled my eyes taking my coffee from Jared.

I walked back to the condo as Jensen and Jared jogged ahead.

I was taking time to sip my coffee.

I was taking time to control my racing heart.

what in the world happened back there?

I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

Ouch.

Okay that hurt.

and I’m not dreaming.

I bit my lip trying to fight the smile that made it’s way to my face.

I have no idea what that was.

but I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

I made it back to the condo, being informed that the boys had to go to the studio to shoot more promos for the new season, and that they’d be back to get me for the party tonight. I gave them a wave, crashing on to the couch from exhaustion.

I remember now why I don’t run at five in the morning.

I grabbed a blanket off the couch, curling up to catch a few more hours of sleep.

I woke up around noon, sleeping later than I would’ve liked.

I got up making myself some breakfast.

I passed the time watching more Dawson’s Creek.

It wasn’t like I had anything else to do.

It was starting to get later, I needed to get ready for this party.

I grabbed a simple mini dress throwing it on.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror.

I didn’t completely hate what I saw.

I didn’t love it either.

I wasn’t anything exceptional.

It was no wonder I was so invisible.

I heard the boys come back home, stomping up the stairs like a herd of elephants.

I put a light coat of makeup on, before brushing through my hair.

I heard my door opening, making me glance over.

Jared stood there in a button up and some jeans.

“you look beautiful.” Jared smiled.

“thanks moose, you look, well very moose like.” I laughed as Jared gave me an annoyed look.

“come on brat, it’s time to go.” Jared said rolling his eyes.

I grabbed my purse, following him down the stairs. Jensen stood there waiting, wearing an outfit similar to Jared’s.

He looked handsome.

He looked flawless.

I could feel his eyes linger on me as I descended the staircase.

“ready to go?” Jensen asked looking at me and Jared.

I nodded my head nervously.

I didn’t like parties.

I would suffer through this one for Jared.

and maybe a little bit to be with Jensen.

I played with the hem of my dress as Jensen drove. It was a silent car ride, nobody bothering to make conversation.

I sighed as Jensen pulled up to the studio.

I hesitantly got out, already overwhelmed with the number of cars in the parking lot.

I could feel the nerves taking over my body making it shake slightly.

I felt a hand on my shoulder making me relax a little.

“it’s going to be okay, just stick with me.” Jared said offering a smile.

I gave him a forced one, following him and Jensen inside.

Jensen disappeared immediately when we got in, going to hug various cast and crew members.

I have to admit I got a little jealous watching him hug multiple women.

It wasn’t like I had a right to be.

Jensen looked right through me.

I just had to accept that.

“I want you to meet Jim.” Jared said grabbing my hand and pulling me to an older gentleman.

I made sure to act super polite as I met various cast and crew members that I hadn’t met the first season.

I felt like Jared’s shadow as he made his way around the room. I didn’t know anyone really except for Jensen and Jeffery Dean Morgan.

I had already talked to Jeff for a little so now I had nothing else to do except following Jared around like a lost puppy dog.

It was exhausting listening to conversations I didn’t really care about.

I needed some air.

I quietly slipped out the door, not that anyone would notice I was gone.

Jared was too busy basking in the limelight.

I was happy for him, don’t get me wrong, it’s just hard to be in his shadow sometimes.

I sighed looking around the studio parking lot. A bunch of trailers sat on the lot, with names of cast members etched on the doors. I found the one that said Jared Padalecki, and took a seat on the steps.

It was a beautiful night out.

It was quiet.

I took a deep breath blowing it out of my nose in a huff.

“you know the parties inside right?”

I jumped as Jensen’s voice took me by surprise.

“geez Jensen I never noticed how observant you were.” I joked rolling my eyes at him.

“not a fan of parties huh?”

“uh not really, they were always sort of Jared’s thing.” I answered with a shrug.

“yeah they’re not so much my thing either, too many people.” Jensen said.

I nodded my head, an awkward silence falling between us.

“uh do you want to see my trailer?” Jensen asked.

I felt the all too familiar heat creep up my spine.

“uh okay.” I whispered, flushed.

Jensen extended his hand pulling me to my feet.

It turns out his trailer was right beside Jared’s. He opened the door allowing me to step in.

It had his wardrobe for Dean in it, a small couch, a mini fridge, and a bathroom. I let my fingers graze over his costumes, observing a few articles closely.

“It’s nice.” I smiled plopping on the couch.

It was rather comfy for a small sofa.

“perks of being like a major celebrity.” Jensen smirked, quoting me from yesterday.

Jensen sat down beside me, our bodies just inches from each other due to the small size of the sofa.

“I’m uh glad you’re here baby moose, Jared’s a lot happier when you are.” Jensen said giving me a smile.

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

It was quiet, another awkward silence falling between us.

“we should probably head back inside, people are going to wonder where we are.” Jensen said standing up.

I stood up too.

“wondering where you are maybe, in case you haven’t noticed I’m pretty good at being invisible.” I said with a slight frown.

“well I can see you.”

Author Note:

I hope you enjoyed part one of this mini series! Please give a heart, reblog, comment or follow if you want more! I appreciate it!

Part (II)

[sporadicthingcollection]

Point Counterpoint (Tech x F!Reader)

Summary: Despite the mutual attraction, Tech thinks a relationship at time isn't a good idea. You disagree. Vehemently.

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Rating: Mild.

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warnings: None!

---

But if I seem to act unkind

It's only me, it's not my mind

That is confusing things

---

Figuring out where you lived wasn’t difficult. You’ve mentioned that it’s a ten minute walk to Cid’s bar, and a fifteen minute walk to the hangar where they keep the Marauder. A third distance would have made it easier, but Tech has done more with less.

Though it would have been much easier if Omega wasn’t hovering over his shoulder.

“This seems... complicated,” she says slowly.

“Not particularly,” Tech replies. He points at the computer viewscreen. “The edge of this circle represents about a fifteen minutes walk, and this one--”

“No, I mean why do this when you could just message her? You have her comm information.”

Echo chimes in from his spot lounging on the bunk. “Because he’s scared to talk to girls.”

Tech shoots him a dry look. “There is no guarantee that she would reply in a timely manner, or that she would be willing to give the information freely. This is faster.”

Omega gives Echo an uneasy look, but he shrugs. She returns her attention to the screen. “Did she forget something?”

Tech shakes his head. “There is something I’d like to discuss with her in private.”

Echo chimes in again. “Make sure you bring flowers. I’ve heard roses are traditional for first dates.”

There’s a crash from outside the ship, and Wrecker comes barreling inside. “Tech’s goin’ on a date?!” he bellows.

Everyone flinches, with poor Omega covering her ears. But she recovers quickly. “He’s trying to figure out where she lives right now.”

Wrecker’s brow scrunches up. “Why doesn’t he just ask her?”

Tech sighs. “I am not going on a date,” he says. “Though, given that she is infatuated with me, it would be a reasonable assumption to make.”

You didn’t hide it very well. The way you’d stand a little closer to him, or play with your hair, or send him messages with hearts in them. You seem to be using them playfully, but given all of the other evidence, it’s the only logical conclusion.

Wrecker breaks into a wide grin. “Aw, lucky!” He gives Tech what is intended to be a friendly punch on the shoulder, but it nearly knocks him out of his chair.

“Don’t sound too excited, Tech,” Echo says. He sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the rack to sit.

“I am not,” Tech says. “Regretfully, I am going to talk her out of it.”

Wrecker’s voice doesn’t crack often, but it does now. “What?! Why?!”

Tech picks up the holopad on the console and passes it to him. “I have spent the last several days compiling a list of why we should not pursue a relationship. You may peruse it if you wish.”

Wrecker is more than capable of reading, but he stares at the pad like it’s written in Durese. His expression hardens and he shoves it back into Tech’s hands. “These are dumb. You’re dumb.”

“Demonstrably untrue,” he replies.

“Nah, Wrecker’s right this time,” Echo says. Tech looks to him, only to see him shake his head in disapproval. “A girl likes you, you go for it. Especially when you like her back.”

There is wisdom in his brother’s words, but how did he know he liked her back? Tech blinks at him. “And where did you hear that?”

“You act different around her,” Omega says. “You’re always standing really close to her, and your cheeks get kinda red, and you smile at things she says...” She shrugs. “It’s really obvious.”

He takes a steadying breath. “Regardless of my feelings, we are not compatible. It is as simple as that.” He stands up. “If you will excuse me, I’d like to see her before dark.”

Wrecker lets out a low grumble, not unlike that of an agitated tooka. “For someone so smart, you’re really stupid, y’know that?” He turns to Echo. “Two creds says this doesn’t go the way he thinks this will.”

“Bet,” he grunts. “She’s gonna kick him to the curb.”

Tech rolls his eyes, but says nothing. He has places to be.

Hunter almost bumps into him as he walks down the ramp, but he scoots to the side just in time. “Going to see your girlfriend?” he says with a smile.

“She is not my girlfriend,” he says flatly, “and I’m going to straighten that out now.”

---

You’re a very intelligent woman. You have an education and a career. You can usually keep up with his explanations and ask more questions. It’s one of the many things he likes about you.

Today, however, you seem to not understand a thing he’s saying. From the second you opened your door, you’ve been wide-eyed and baffled. Which is unusual, given that he’s not espousing any particularly complicated technical insights.

You stare at the holopad, eyes widening as you scan the text. They’re enormous and uncomprehending when you look up at him, blinking. You swallow, then take a deep breath.

“Tech,” you ask flatly, “what the fuck?”

That’s an unusually ignorant question coming from you. “Is it not obvious? It is a list of reasons you should pursue other men. I am not a suitable partner for you.”

You blink once. Your mouth opens, then closes. You look at the holopad and open your mouth again, only to close it again as you look back at him. “How long is this?”

“There are about thirty-five items, though some have multiple subsections. So about…” He counts in his head. “Forty-seven, in total.”

He waits for you to speak. You don’t. You just keep staring at him. You look remarkably like a fish, with your mouth opening and closing. You look between him and the holopad several times.

Unsure of what to do with his hands, he adjusts his goggles. “This is not to say that I do not wish to stay friends,” he says. “You are good company and I would like to--”

He’s about a head taller than you, but you have the element of surprise. You grab him by the collar of his breastplate and haul him into your apartment, throwing him onto your sofa. It’s quite plush and his landing is soft.

You slap the door panel to close it and then whirl around to storm towards him. “This isn’t fair,” you say. “You can’t just throw a list of reasons at me and leave.”

“I just did,” he states. He tries to stand up, but you sit him back down. “I don’t understand what you are upset about.”

With a huff, you toss the holopad at him. “At the very least, I deserve to have you tell me to my face why. And I should make an argument back.”

That’s fair. He glances at his chronometer. “I hope you have no plans for the evening.”

“Free as a purrgil,” you say, voice smooth. “So lay it on me.”

He likes that confident tone you take. It makes his insides squirm in a pleasant way. “Very well,” he says. He taps the pad. “Point one,” he begins. “I am a fugitive of the Empire.”

You scoff. “For a good reason. I’d desert too if I had people to protect.”

“Friendship is one thing, but the close contact necessitated by a romantic relationship would put you in constant danger.” He gives you a pointed look. “It is not an easy life.”

You ponder that a moment, tipping your head back and pursing your lips. “Well, yeah,” you finally say, “but I’ve known that from the jump. It’s not like you’re hiding it from me.”

That’s a good point. You’ve been nothing but gracious about his status -- helpful, even. You’ve gone so far as to warn him when inspections are to be conducted on the ship hangars.

You continue. “And in the interests of openness, I assure you I’m not hiding anything either. Except maybe my credit card number, but that’s nothing personal.”

A joke. Your mood has improved. A good sign. Perhaps you’ll be more receptive to the next point.

He adjusts his goggles. “Point two: you are far more attractive than I am.”

The right half of your smile disappears as your brows shoot up and your eyes widen, leaving you looking remarkably like an orbak in a pair of headlights. “Are you saying you wish I wasn’t pretty?”

“Nothing of the sort. You are fine the way you are. More than fine, if I may be honest. Which is what concerns me. Couples where one is perceived as more attractive than the other are subject to more scrutiny and are therefore more likely to separate.”

Your expression doesn’t change. You’re still baffled. “I’m flattered, but... what?”

For such an intelligent woman, you’re being unusually dense right now. It’s very frustrating. “Objectively speaking, you are very beautiful. Your face is symmetrical and your bust-waist-hip measurements are within ideal parameters -- based on just my visual estimates, of course.”

Somehow, your eyes get even wider. “...how long have you been looking at me?”

Too long, but he’ll keep that fact to himself. He ignores your interjection. “I, on the other hand, am a Human clone of decidedly average looks. Which brings me to my next point--”

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa!” You regain your wits and flap your hands so fast that your fingers appear to smear in the air. You stick your index finger at him. “What makes you think you’re unattractive?”

He almost scoffs, but he swallows it. “The data I’ve seen suggests I am not.”

You roll yours. “Don’t care. Explain yourself.”

He’s not a fan of prolonged self-depreciation, but if you insist. “Brown hair and eyes are, according to research I’ve read on the subject, the most common hair and eye colors among Humans. Hardly unique traits. Thus, average.”

“You’re taller than most guys I’ve met and in better shape. That rates you pretty high in my book,” you say. “And your goggles are neat.”

“While your appreciation of my eyewear is, well, appreciated, you are just one woman.” Speaking of which, they’re slightly crooked again. He adjusts them.

You suck in the slightest of breaths, and the corners of your lips curl. You always seem pleased when he touches his goggles.

You shake your head as if to clear it. “There’s more to attractiveness than looks, man.” You count on your fingers. “There’s personality, interests--”

“I’m aware of that as well. Which brings me to my third point: disparate levels of intelligence.”

You abandon your counting and your gaze snaps to his like a turret locking onto a target. “Excuse me?”

“I’m far more intelligent than you are.”

While it’s the truth, the look in your eyes makes him regret saying that. “Are you calling me dumb?”

He raises his hand. “I did not mean to offend.”

“Then what did you mean?!”

It’s suddenly very hot in here. “That was-- What I mean to say is--” He swallows thickly and takes a breath. “While you are by no means unintelligent, I am an enhanced clone. I am very knowledgeable and, in past experiences, my sharing of that knowledge has led to discomfort and irritation on the part of others.”

Your anger deflates. You put your hand on your breast, and your brows knit. “Have I ever been like that?” you ask quietly.

“Not often, but on occasion.”

You deflate even more. “I’m sorry,” you say in a small voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”

A fuzzy warmth blooms in his head, pressing against the backs of his eyes. He’s not used to apologies, and yours seems genuine. “It’s fine,” he says, willing the feeling away.

“No, it’s not.” You vault over the arm of the sofa to sit next to him. Your gaze is soft. “I hurt your feelings and I apologize for that.”

The feeling doesn’t go away. It trickles down his throat and into his chest, even fuzzier and warmer. He coughs and turns back to the datapad.

“I think it’s really neat when you go off about stuff. Like, I didn’t know that thing about getting into hyperspace faster if you use a gas giant as a slingshot. I was telling everyone that for weeks.”

He’d completely forgotten he’d told you that. Though it’s not slingshotting. “Gravity assist,” he corrects.

Your smile returns and it’s like when he takes his armor off after a long day. “Gravity assist,” you repeat. “My bad. Point is that I like it when you talk about stuff. So scratch that from your list.”

His insides are fuzzy enough that he’s suddenly worried he swallowed a mouse without noticing. “...very well,” he says. He highlights the passage and deletes it from the list. “But that doesn’t affect my next point.”

You cross your arms. “Lay it on me.”

Your casual demeanor calms him somewhat. “Point four: clones have inconsistent fertility levels. Should you desire a child, conception may be difficult--”

A peal of laughter interrupts him. You’ve got your hand on your chest as your shoulders shake, your eyes scrunched up and your smile wide.

The warm sinks into his belly. He likes it when you laugh. But this is a serious matter. “What is so funny?”

You giggle for a few moments more, then inhale. “We’re not even in a relationship and you’re talking about kids!”

“It is a genuine concern!” he says. “Numerous studies stated that infertile couples are three times more likely to separate.”

The seriousness of his tone seems to affect you, and you stop laughing. “But we’re not a couple.”

“And I would hate for that to happen if we were.”

“Tech,” you say sharply. “You just brought over a list about why you don’t want to be in a relationship. Why are you worried about it?”

“It is not that I don’t want to, it’s just that it would be unwise,” he says.

It’s the truth. He’d love nothing more than to be with you. But it’s a bad idea and he’s holding forty-seven reasons why. One of which is infertility and he would really appreciate it if you took it seriously.

And yet now you’re looking at him like he sprouted a second head. Wide eyes. Jaw lowered. Lips parted. “Say that again.”

“It is not a good idea,” he repeats.

You shake your head and speak slowly. “No, the first part.”

He swallows. His cheeks are heating up. “It is not that I don’t want to be in a relationship--”

You spring forward so fast that not even his enhanced reflexes are enough to stop you. The datapad clatters to the floor as you push him back against the sofa and position yourself above him.

“I wanna kiss you,” you whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

His surroundings, all of the tactile sensations he’s getting, every single thought swirling around in his head vanishes with a pop. All that exists is your beautiful, symmetrical face, staring down at him with glittering eyes.

A single word appears, deep in his gut. He has to grab onto it and force it up his throat, past his teeth and tongue to his numb lips, and even then it’s barely louder than the breeze through a field of grass.

“Please,” he croaks.

The glitter in your eyes turns to a shine. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you lower yourself towards him. Your breasts make contact with his chest first, and he wishes he hadn’t worn his armor. He wishes he could feel their warmth, their weight, resting against him.

And then your lips make contact with his and he doesn’t wish for anything at all.

Tech has never been kissed before. He’s seen it, heard others talking about it, how much they crave it. He didn’t put much stock into it. It seemed like it would be unpleasant.

He was wrong.

Your lips are gentle and warm against his, soft and smooth as satin. Your muscles move beneath the skin, as if you’re putting great effort into keeping them still.

He wants to linger in this moment forever.

But all things must end, and just as soon as you make contact, you pull away. Your eyes are lidded slightly, making you look intoxicated. Your tongue peeks out from behind your lips, visible for only a moment.

He wants to taste it.

He throws his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him. One hand snakes up to press your head back down towards his as he rises to meet you.

He's a man possessed, watching his body act of its own accord. He moves his lips against yours and, though you peep in surprise, you reciprocate. You part your lips and he feels the warmth of your breath and the coolness of your mouth and you taste like hyperspace looks.

He has no idea what that means, but it feels right.

“Tech,” you whisper into his mouth.

Hearing his name come from your lips is like heaven. He murmurs yours back, and he gets a coo so sweet in response that he gasps.

You pull away, concern knitting your brow. “You okay?” you pant.

He nods. “Yes. This is a... new experience.”

Your jaw drops. You look both sad and elated. “Well, I’m honored to be your first.”

He’s glad you’re the first as well. With any luck, you’ll be the only.

He licks his lips. They taste faintly of meiloorun. “...I would like to kiss you again.”

Your eyes sparkle with delight. They drift closed as you lean in to catch his lips in yours.

---

He doesn't know how long he lays with you atop him, exploring your mouth, but the sun has set by the time he leaves. Or you let him leave, rather. You refuse to let him go until he promises to come by tomorrow so you can buy him dinner.

The phrase walking on air never made much sense to him, but as he strolls through the streets, he thinks he gets it.

Hunter is examining the contents of a cargo crate when Tech returns. He initially doesn’t pay him any mind, but he double-takes and raises a brow. “Where’ve you been?”

“Seeing a friend.” He adjusts his goggles. “Why?”

“You got...” He rubs his thumb along his lower lip. “...on your mouth...”

Tech touches his fingertips to his mouth. Pulling away, a swash of color stains his gloves.

Uh-oh.

He scrubs the back of his hand along his mouth just as Echo pokes his head out the door of the Marauder, quickly joined by Omega and Wrecker. “So how’d it go?” he asks.

Somehow, he manages to keep his voice even. “Better than expected,” he replies. “We’re getting dinner tomorrow night.”

Echo’s eyebrows shoot up as Omega’s jaw drops. Wrecker barks a laugh and jostles Echo with his elbow. Hunter continues to look confused.

“Seriously, what happened?” he asks. “Is this about your girlfriend?”

Tech opens his mouth to respond, only to pause. Instead, he nods. “It is,” he says.

Hunter waits for the correction, but it doesn't come. His brows slowly rise, and he breaks into a knowing grin.

---

Thank you for reading! Special thanks to my bf for putting on Revolver just when I was looking for an epigraph. <3

---

⬅⬅⬅ | "Filled With Things to Say" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 13: Spring Breaks Loose, The Time Is Near

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Torture, Betrayal, Attempted Murder, Arthur Morgan Has Tuberculosis, Angst With A Happy Ending, Tags Updated Per Chapter

Author's Note: i’ll i’m gonna say is don’t kill me just wait until the story is done. Chapter content warning: Disease (you know which one. Also let’s pretend it’s not incredibly contagious), death

Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash@julialoopeezz @hqxee @salientseraphph @crypticlxrsh@lorenaloveslewis @tswizzleislike8foot4 @oziozzioslo @tinaaaa5747 Chapter List

“A-Arthur?” You managed to choke out.

He wasn’t sobbing, not like you were, but a few tears had escaped his eyes and trailed down his bearded cheeks. “Sorry, it’s just…” he trailed off, carding his fingers through your hair, making you relax the tiniest amount. 

You didn’t let him brush your concerns off, and you forced your crying to cease, which took a substantial amount of willpower, and was made easier by your concern. “It’s just…?”

He sighed, before placing the lightest kiss on your forehead. You could feel his lips move as he spoke. “It just pains me to see ya like this, darlin’.”

You pulled your head back slightly, not expecting that as an answer. Even through tear-filled eyes, you could see that he wasn’t being entirely truthful with you, his eyes turned away from you. He wasn’t lying about being upset at your distress, but there was something else to it as well. “It’s just that?”

“Yes,” he answered too soon. Worry gnawed at you, but you let the matter drop for now. You were too mentally exhausted to press further, so you let his lie satisfy your question. For now. 

Humming noncommittally, you let your head fall back against his, foreheads resting against each other. Your body still shook, your mind still overflowing with information, but oddly enough you could feel the cold weight of acceptance begin to form as well. What your brother had claimed was the truth; it would be pointless to try and claim otherwise. 

But you knew it would take time for you to fully come to terms with what he had done. And maybe you never would, but you’d learn to live with it, just like you had come to live with the cards you’d been dealt two years ago. You’d be lying, though, if you said you weren’t tired of your life being out of your control. Never again, you vowed to yourself.

You must’ve looked like you were deep in your thoughts, and so Arthur gently called your name, bringing you back to reality. “What happened, darlin’? If ya wanna talk ‘bout it,’ he added quickly.

“He… Well… I…” You tried and failed multiple times to recount the day's events, yet every time you trailed off, unable to create a clear story with the sheer amount of things that had transpired. 

“Start from the beginning,” Arthur instructed. “What happened in the morning?”

Now given a task to focus on, you took a deep breath, your thoughts now becoming understandable. “My mother and sister, Maggie, visited today.” God, was that only this morning? 

“They did? Well, that’s good…” he trailed off, uncertain.

“It was great. They came in for a few moments, much to the surprise of… of Hans,” you tried to not think about the fact that his body was lying right below you. “He seemed nervous, but I guess now he was worried they were gonna tell me somethin’.”

“Did they?”

You shook your head. “They were as much in the dark about this as I was. In fact, they were under the belief that I ran away willingly, that I was in love with Hans.” You recall the fact that Maggie had found a note saying you’d run away. “Joseph planted a fake note explaining everything, and I guess my father just kept his mouth shut about the whole ordeal, never told them the truth.”

Although it hurt less than it did with your brother, you still felt a sting of betrayal when you thought of your father. His silence was compliance; if he’d spoken up, would all of this have happened? Or would the rest of your family have disowned you for being with Hans’ child out of wedlock? Would they have been supportive? Would they have come to see you, and then see that it was all a lie? What would’ve happened then?

So many what-ifs bounced around your head that you forgot to continue your story, until you heard Arthur clear his throat, albeit a bit too loudly. It made you jump, and he apologized under his breath. “What next?” His voice was hoarse. 

“Well, we ended up headin’ to Saint Denis, a day trip with just the three of us.” Joseph must’ve gotten here during that time. “Did you know Angelo Bronte is dead?”

His silence spoke volumes, and in the back of your mind, you knew he had something to do with it. You didn’t care; Bronte was a snake who needed to be put down long ago. “We… we ended up passin’ your wanted posters. You’ve got quite the bounty on you, did you know?” He let out a small chuckle. “I told them ‘bout you,” you whispered, feeling like you were confessing something.

You felt him tense the tiniest amount. “Yeah? I’m sure I made quite the impression.”

“Sayin’ that she told me to run away with you, you didn’t strike as bad of an impression as you believe.”

Arthur sucked in a breath, making him cough lightly. “She said what?” You couldn’t tell if he was revolted by the idea, or just surprised. 

“She was in the house for maybe three minutes, but she saw how miserable I was with Hans. Then she saw how I looked at your poster,” your cheeks burned slightly, “and she got me to confess how I felt. She made me promise to get away from Hans, whether it be with divorce or running away.” You took a deep breath. “And I promised her. Once you came back, I was gonna do it. I was gonna take my life back.”

Arthur was quiet for an extended amount of time, and during that, you felt one of his hands cup the side of your face. “It’s like she read my mind,” he muttered, and you blinked at him, confused. “Do you remember, back at Bronte’s party, I was ‘bout to say somethin’ to ya before the fireworks went off?”

It took a few seconds of combing through your memories, but eventually, the scene replayed in your mind. “I do. I also remember you refused to repeat what you were tryin’ to say.”

“I lost my nerve, darlin’,” he sighed, thumb idly rubbing your cheek.

“So try it again,” you whispered, covering the hand on your cheek with your own. “What were you gonna say?” You were certain you knew what he was about to say; you just wanted to hear it from him. 

“For a moment, I believed Dutch. I believed him when he said that the bank robbery would be the last score we’d need to get the law off our back. We’d get enough money to start anew, where I wouldn’t have to worry ‘bout providin’ for the gang any longer. ‘Cause of that, I let myself dream, fantasize a new life. A life with you.”

“Arthur-”

“I was gonna ask you to run away with me,” he whispered. “And once I got my share from the robbery, we’d go. Vanish. Start a new life, somewhere, anywhere. I didn’t care where, as long as it was with you.”

“You… you’d leave the gang for me?”

“I’d do anythin’ to be with ya.” He said it so simply, honestly. 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t find the words to. Instead, you crashed your lips against his, catching him completely off guard. It was like everything slid into place, two puzzle pieces joining together, when you kissed him, your fingers entangling themselves in his hair. Your damp cheeks continued to be wettened by more tears. 

It wasn’t any secret that you were in love with Arthur Morgan. Far from it. You both knew it, having told him yourself. Yet even now, it continued to overwhelm you, even stronger than before, until you felt like you were drowning in it. But you realized you didn’t want to be saved. You wanted to sink deeper, to let the waves close in over your head, to trap you for eternity. You wanted all the air to leave your lungs and to be filled with him, until all you could feel, think, know was him.

Climbing into his lap, you didn’t even remember that your lower body was covered in mud and remnants from the forest, and neither did he. He eagerly reciprocated, a hand pulling you snugly against his waist once you were sitting. Desperation laced his movements, missing you just as deeply as you had missed him.

A hand still gripped the side of your face, and you felt it move into your hairline, making you shiver. He continued back, combing through your tangled hair until he reached the back of your head. When his fingers brushed there, though, you gasped, but because of pain.

He retraced his hand immediately, his brow furrowing as he looked at his fingers. “Are you-”

“They hit me in the back of the head,” you explained. “One of ‘em did it when I walked into the bedroom. But it’s fine.” You tried to reconnect your lips, needing to feel him again, but he turned his head away. 

“You’re still bleedin’.” He turned his fingers to you, and you saw that they were indeed covered in blood. Your blood. “Turn around.”

The tiniest bit disappointed, you complied, turning until your back was to him. You felt his fingers lightly move your hair until he found the source of the bleeding, a curse leaving his lips when he did. “Let’s get this taken care of, darlin’.”

“But-”

“Please.”

You sighed but found yourself unable to oppose his request any longer. He was already on his feet, and you felt him help you up as your legs were still unsteady. Your feet, now covered in dry and flaking mud, clumsily made their way to the stairs, stopping when Arthur placed a hand on your shoulder. You let out a startled noise when he picked you up again, bringing you upstairs quicker than you would’ve by yourself. 

He didn’t set you down until you were in the bathroom, placing you on the tub’s edge. He adjusted your body so that your back was to him again, and you heard him as he began to rustle through some of the cabinets.

“Bandages and gauze are by the sink.” 

Arthur murmured out a thanks, a small victorious noise leaving him when he found them. You heard the sound of running water, most likely filling a small bowl with water, as you heard his moke some more noise as he grabbed a few other things. He was back by your side in seconds, parting your hair like he had done downstairs. You winced when you felt a damp cloth press against the injury, cleaning it. With every noise of pain you made, Arthur was apologizing, and you shook your head each time, being mindful of what he was doing. 

Eventually, you heard the sound of splashing water as Arthur dropped the now-red cloth into the water, reaching for the bandages now. A piece of gauze was placed on the wound, Arthur then instructed you to hold it as he wrapped a bandage around your head, securing it. It went across your forehead, wrapped around twice to be extra tight, and he tied it in the back.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror when you turned around, before Arthur stepped in front of you, blocking your sight. “I look ridiculous,” you scoffed, ignoring the cuts and marks that you’d seen on your face. 

“Rather be ridiculous than bleedin’ out,” he countered, dumping the bowl and refilling it, grabbing a fresh cloth as well. Wordlessly, you watched as he dropped to his knees in front of you, setting the bowl on the tub edge beside you. Rough fingers grabbed your chin, but they were tender as they tilted your head the tiniest amount down. He continued to hold your chin, keeping your head still as he began to wipe at your face, cleaning away the dried blood and dirt. 

His movements were slow, methodical even, and his eyes roamed over your face. He was soaking in every detail, every line and crease and mark, like he was trying to commit them all to memory. Like he couldn’t believe you were sitting there in front of him. 

Like it was the last time he’d ever have the chance to look at you.

You were studying him yourself, taking in every change. His skin was tanner, which you’d already noticed, his cheeks and nose burned pink. But you’d also seen how tired he looked, and now up this close, it was increasingly apparent. 

His eyes were bloodshot, from what you weren’t quite sure. You knew that sunburn could do that to your eyes, but you knew that wasn’t the cause of it. Glancing into his eyes, it even seemed like the vibrant blue hue of them had seemed to dim. Additionally, deep purple circles lined his eyes, like he hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep in weeks. He probably hadn’t, you realized.

“What happened to you, Arthur?” You found yourself asking before you could stop yourself.

“Didn’t think I looked that bad,” he joked, never ceasing with the self-deprecation. “But the last few weeks have been intense, to say the least.” He had moved down to your neck, continuing to clean your body.

You nodded. “I… I heard about Hosea and Lenny. And John gettin’ arrested. I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

You could tell that he was trying to not show how hurt he was by the loss of those two men. One of whom you wouldn’t even qualify as grown. “We managed to get John back a few days ago. Marched right up to the penitentiary gates and demanded his return.”

That statement made you pause. “I’m sorry, you asked them to return him to you. And they complied?”

“It took some mild… persuasion,” he chuckled dryly, now focusing on cleaning your hands. “But essentially, yes.”

“Sisika, right?” He hummed a confirmation, wiping in between the space between your fingers, getting rid of the dried blood there. “How are you not in chains right now? Or dead?”

“I was the better shot.” He meant it as a joke, but there was a cold truth to it. The only reason he was still alive was that he was “a better shot”. But what happened when he found his match? What then?

You didn’t let yourself think too deeply. “You said that was a few days ago, right? Where were you before?” The question wasn’t accusatory; merely curious. And concerned. 

He paused, glancing up at you. “I would’ve come and seen ya sooner, but I-”

“Arthur, it’s okay,” you cut him off. “You came back, right?” He nodded, an inkling of guilt still in his eyes. “Then that’s all that matters.”

He sighed, obviously disagreeing with you, but no longer pressing the matter. “You ever heard of an island called Guarma?”

You shook your head. “Can’t say I have…” You didn’t like what he was implying. 

“Me neither. Not until a few weeks ago. After everything’ went to shit at the bank, we bunkered down in a buildin’ in Saint Denis, waitin’ out the law. When night came, we snuck onto a boat, all of us ‘cept Charles. He created a distraction for us. We had no idea where it was goin’, but anywhere was good, as long as it was far away from Saint Denis. Then a storm came through, sinkin’ the ship, and we washed up on the shore of Guarma, right in the middle of a revolution. It’s a tropical island; Dutch said it was somewhere in the Caribbean.”

“That explains the tan, then.”

“Trust me, if I’ve never gotta see sand again, I’d die happy.” A huff of air left you, a poor excuse of a laugh, and he continued with his story. ”We managed to get a ride back and found the rest of the gang. Sadie and Charles took good care of ‘em while we were gone. Pinkertons ended up ambushin’ us, and so we relocated up north, a place called Beaver Hollow.”

You knew that place. You were always told to steer as far as you could from there, the Murfree Brood a group you didn’t want to end up in the hands of. And a perfect place to evade the law. “That ain’t too far from where I grew up. Nasty place.”

Cold water splashed against your legs, making you jump. “Some of the things I saw there… nasty is one thing to call it.”

“And the gang is there now?”

“What’s left of us,” he muttered, wiping the mud from your lower body.

“Did… did someone else die?”

He shook his head. “A few of ‘em have left. Can’t say I blame ‘em. Things… things ain’t lookin’ good for us. Dutch’s hell-bent on revenge, and Micah is just feedin’ the flames. There’s a rift growing; one side those who still back Dutch, the other those who don’t.”

“And which side are you on, Arthur?”

He stilled, hands falling into his lap. He didn’t look up, a heavy tension in his shoulders, one that had been present since the moment you’d seen him earlier. Deep breaths moved those tense shoulders, a light cough leaving him as he did. Seconds ticked by as Arthur contemplated your words, and you gave him as much time as he needed. 

When he brought his head back up, it was clear that his mind was conflicted, a soft noise leaving you when you saw the intense furrow of his brow. “I don’t know,” he responded, voice breaking slightly. “I… I don’t know.” He sighed heavily. “But you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that, darlin’. I’ll figure it out.”

“No.”

“No?” 

You shook your head. “I’ll worry, whether you tell me or not. So let me help you.”

“You’ve got some much goin’ on already. Don’t let me pile more on.”

“Let me help you,” you repeated, running a hand through his hair. “What’re you thinkin’? What’s goin’ on in that mind of yours?” Distract me from everything that’s happened tonight.

He didn’t respond for a few seconds. “I’m torn. A part of me sees the man that Dutch is now, ruthless and crazed with revenge. A man I had no small part in creatin’… A part of me wonders; would this have all happened if I’d’ve stood up to Dutch earlier? If I had questioned him, instead of followin’ him blindly?”

“Don’t go thinkin’ about the what-ifs. It doesn’t do you any good; it’s all I’ve been doin’ all night. We can’t change the past, but we sure as hell can decide what the future is gonna look like. That is in your own hands. That being said, I know I don’t know Dutch, or the gang for that matter. But I don’t think there was anythin’ you could’ve done to change his fate.”

He didn’t say, but you could tell he agreed with you, at least subconsciously. “Yet even now, I see him, everythin’ he told us not to be… and I still find myself wantin’ to follow him, to obey him. I can’t turn my back on him now, not at the end.”

“You feel like you owe him, don’t you?”

“He saved my life, darlin’. Took me off the street when I was a kid, gave me food, shelter, a place to call home. He taught me to read, write, to shoot, everythin’. I owe everythin’ to him. And how do I repay him? By abandonin’ him when he needs me most?”

“And has he shown you that same respect? Far as I can tell, you’ve done as much for him as he has for you, if not more. You’ve been loyal to him this entire time, have you not? You’ve been by his side through the good and the bad, following his orders even if you maybe felt differently. He saved your life, yes, but that was years ago. What has he done now that has earned him that loyalty?”

You took a breath. “I ain’t askin’ you to make a decision now. And any decision you do make, you’ll have to make it yourself.” No matter how much I want to make it for you. “This is your life. Not mine. Not Dutch’s. Not the gangs. Yours. So when you make your decision, choose the one you think will benefit that the most. Not what you think Dutch wants you to do. Not what you think I want you to do. Choose for yourself.”

Arthur remained silent, and deep down you could see that there was one other issue bothering him. Something even more significant than his fate with the gang, but what it was you had no idea. On now clean feet, you stood slowly, pulling Arthur up with you. Wrapping your arms around him, you rested your head on his chest, tilting your head back so you could continue to look at him. Oh, how you had missed him.

“Let’s get you outta those clothes…” he murmured after passing over a splotch of mud on your dress as he dragged his hands up your body. 

Leading you to your bedroom, you saw that the things that had been dropped from your arms were on the bed. For a moment, you’d chose to not remember the events that had transpired earlier, but seeing those items forced them to the front of your mind. Your breath caught, and the hand holding Arthur’s tightened, making him slow down. “You alright, darlin’?”

“Sorry, I just forgot…”

He caught your meaning, thumb running over your hand soothingly, and you let him lead you in. There, he turned you until your back was once again to him, but instead of immediately moving to get your clothing off, you felt his hands wrapped around your front. He tugged you to his chest, a content sigh leaving him at the contact, his head ducking down to lay on your shoulder. 

Arthur held you for some time, reacquainting himself with how you felt in his arms. No words were exchanged; his actions said plenty. Occasionally, you’d feel his head turn and press a kiss to your neck, his stubble tickling you lightly. His hands roamed up and down your torso, never demanding, just feeling. 

All of these worked to distract your mind, even eliciting a small laugh from you when his lips brushed your neck. For a moment, nothing existed outside of this room. No family matters, no gang issues, nothing; it was just you and Arthur.

Finally, you felt him begin to tug off your dress, working through the various ribbons and latches in the back. It hit the floor with an audible noise, mud and water having made it heavier. He spun you around, eyes trailing over your newly exposed figure, the tiniest amount of lust flaring in his eyes. But he didn’t let himself touch, merely clearing his throat and stepping back to the closet. 

You nearly followed him, craving to feel his hands on your body again, but you refrained. You remembered you didn’t have nearly as much time alone as you’d like, needing to get to your house with Sadie. With his warm body no longer pressed against yours, you were shivering, your hands rubbing at your exposed arms. Goosebumps covered your body, and you heard the sound of rustling and light coughing as Arthur searched for something for you to wear. 

As you waited, you couldn’t help but think about Arthur’s words, more specifically what he confessed to you downstairs. Never did you think that he’d leave the Van Der Linde gang, let alone for you. You hoped, of course, but you never expected your far-fetched fantasies to be so close to reality.

But now there was a seed of hope that he’d planted inside of you. Hope for a future far away from the control of others. For a future that you would get to choose. 

A future with Arthur. 

The mere idea of that future made you giddy, and despite yourself, you found a smile growing. It was small yet powerful, just like the hope you felt. 

Arthur stepped back into the room, in his arms the blue dress you wore when you met Arthur properly in Rhodes. Despite his tiredness, he had a playful glint in his eyes, clearly remembering the dress as well. You only connected now, though, that it was the same color as the shirt he had worn when he had broken in. It seemed your subconscious had latched on to him quicker than you’d known. 

It made your smile grow wider, and he shot you a curious glance as he began to help you into the garment. “What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” He teased.

“Just thinkin’. About you,” you added.

He chuckled quietly. “All good things, I hope.”

“Only the best.” 

He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips, and you felt him zip up your dress.

“Although,” you continued, now feeling a bit nervous. How am I gonna ask him this? “I’ve… I’ve got a question.” You hated how uncertain you sounded. 

“You know you don’t gotta get my permission to ask me anythin’.

“I know, it’s just…” you sighed. “Do you still want… that?”

“That?” 

“What you told me downstairs. About running away with me.” You took a deep breath, scared of what his answer was going to be. “Do you still want that?” As much as I want it?

“More than anything,” he responded quickly, earnestly. Yet he trailed off at the end, an unspoked but, and you felt your stomach drop.

“But you can’t,” you whispered, finishing his sentence for him.

You could feel the guilt radiating from him as he nodded in agreement, his head ducking slightly. “I’ve gotta get ‘em out, darlin’. Tilly, Abigail, Jack, John. All of ‘em. They… they’ve got futures. They can’t stay ‘round anymore.

You hated how selfless he was some days, this day being one of them. “And what about you?” You countered, and his head dipped even lower, practically resting against yours now. “What about your future? Once they’re out, you… you can decide what you wanna do next. You’ll be able to do that. You’re talkin’ like that ain’t gonna be an option.”

You’re not sure what was more alarming: his silence or the tears you felt. Anxiety wormed its way into your mind, and you could feel your heart begin to hammer in your chest, your stomach churning nervously. “Arthur, what’s goin’ on?” You asked hesitantly. 

Silence.

All you could hear was your breathing and your rapid heartbeat. “Arthur?” You tried to sound not panicked, but your voice cracked a bit. “Please, talk to me.”

You’re not sure if you actually wanted him to tell you at this point, but the silence was becoming unbearable. Maybe you were just worrying yourself? Maybe what he was about to say wouldn’t be as bad as you thought?

Arthur raised his head, a shaky hand coming to rest on your cheek. Were his fingers always this cold? You couldn’t remember. “I’m sick.”

You didn’t process the implications of his words. You couldn’t. “W-What do you mean?” You tried to ignore the dread you felt creeping into the back of your mind.

“Darlin’-”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. This wasn’t happening. You refused to believe it was. This was all some cruel joke, right? You’d take that a million times over. “You… you can’t be sick.” The lie tasted bitter on your tongue. God, you should’ve connected the dots earlier. His bloodshot eyes, sickly skin, his immeasurable exhaustion, the coughing. How could you be so oblivious? 

Two hands now held each side of your face, keeping your attention on Arthur. “Please, no.��

“I’m so sorry-

“No!” You tore away from him, staggering back a few steps. Your hands tangled into your hair, pulling and tugging, unsure of how to outlet this growing despair. You paced, tears pouring freely down your cheeks. Words of denial tumbled from your lips, rising in volume. “No, you don’t get to do that!” You weren’t sure if you were talking to Arthur, the universe, or yourself. 

“You…” you gasped for air. You don’t get to come into my life and then leave it. You don’t get to make me fall in love, and then tear it away from me. You don’t get to ruin my life. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to scream or cry, to lash out, or keep it all contained.“You…” Your anger turned into a simmer when you saw Arthurs standing there, looking as lost as you felt, conflicted on whether to comfort you or let you let it all out. 

Shame snapped you out of your anger, at least temporarily. Here he was, sick, when he needed your comfort, and you were acting like this? His tears earlier in the night made sense now; how long had he been waiting to tell you? Was he ever going to tell you?

Slowly, cautiously, you returned to where you’d been standing moments prior. Sniffing, you could barely see through the tears in your eyes, and it felt like you were forcing your body to comply. You rested your hand above his heart, and beneath his ragged breaths, you could feel his heartbeat, strong as ever. There was no way he could be…

You couldn’t finish the thought. 

Arthur pulled away suddenly, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket before coughing heavily into it. You realized he’d been holding back his previous coughs, this one wracking his whole body, a pained noise leaving him once he was done. You managed to catch a glimpse of the handkerchief before he tucked it into his pocket, but you almost wish you didn’t when you saw the splattering of crimson on the once-white material. 

Oh. 

Oh, God. 

A choked sob left you, the hand on his chest curling into a fist. “We… we can take you to a doctor, a sanitorium, something. Anything. You’ll get better, and-”

“It’s too late for that, it… it’s just a matter of time, now.”

“Says who? You… we can still try!” You tried to argue, tried to fight this whole situation like anything could be changed. Have you already given up? The question danced on the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to ask it, not wanting to know the answer. 

He sighed, a mix of defeat and sympathy, and you hated it. You felt him stroke the side of your face, gently, reverently, but his words were anything but. “Darlin’, I’m dyin’.”

Your body went numb, like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over you. The hand on his chest went lax, falling limply to your side. Your ears were ringing so bad that it hurt, and your short and shallow breaths made you dizzy. Again, you felt yourself stumble back, but this time Arthur didn’t let you go far. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He was murmuring something, but you couldn’t hear it. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to sob anymore. Tears just ran in streams down your face, sharp gasps leaving you occasionally, but you lacked the energy to do anything else. It was like all your muscles ceased to work any longer, the numbness of shock rendering them so. 

In your mind, his words just played on repeat, like a broken record. He was dying. He’d be dead. When, you had no idea, but if the state of him currently was anything to go by, then you knew he didn’t have long. 

And just when a future with him had been so obtainable, now that Hans was… out of the picture. Everything you’d imagined, every fantasy came crumbling down around you. Never had you thought about a life without Arthur, but now presented with that idea it was all you could think about. The grief. The dread. The loneliness. 

You were going to be alone again. 

Arthur was going to be dead. 

It would be slow, painful.

He’d be gone so soon.

Your mind flicked back and forth between thoughts like a metronome, yet everything felt quiet. Pressed against his chest, you could feel it move as he talked, lips pressed against the top of your head. When you didn’t respond or acknowledge his words, he tilted your head back, forcing you to look at him. 

You wanted to tear your gaze away, finding it too painful to look at him, yet you kept it on him. The whine in your ears dimmed to a quiet noise, and you were able to start hearing him. “I’m so sorry, darlin’. I didn’t wanna tell ya like this.”

“Then when were you goin’ to?” You heard the words leave your mouth, the words slightly slurred. Or were you never gonna tell me, and then leave me to discover that you’d died in a few weeks?

“I don’t know,” he sighed, completely honest. “When I came over today, I was just expectin’ to visit ya and tell ya, not… everythin’ else. Sadie tagged along, ‘cause, well…” he trailed off, unsure of what he was about to say. “She wanted to make sure I made it back alright.”

So it’s that bad. 

You only hummed in response, not knowing what to say. What could you say?

Arthur was also quiet for a few moments. “But I ain’t dead yet,” he muttered. “We’ve still got some time.” His next words were barely audible like he couldn’t even bring himself to say them. “Please don’t go far.”

You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. No matter how much it hurt, you were going to be by his side. You loved him too much. “I won’t leave, Arthur,” you promised, your heart breaking further at the fact that he thought you might. “Is it truly somethin’ you can’t beat?” Are you sure you won’t survive this?

He paused for a second. “I can’t say for certain,” he admitted, “but I don’t want you to get your hopes up, darlin’. It ain’t lookin’ good.”

It took all your might to nod, to bring yourself to process his words. It was futile to try and stop your tears, but you tired anyway. You took a deep breath, focusing on his prior words. You still had some time left. 

All it did was make the ache in your heart worse.

Arthur continued to hold you, a hint of desperation in his grasp, like he was afraid you’d go back on your promise and leave. It was when you secured your arms around him that he finally seemed to believe you, the lightest noise leaving him. Seconds turned into minutes as you held each other, neither knowing what to say. You were grateful for the silence, though, as it didn’t carry information that ruined you. 

Arthur was the first to make a noise, clearing his throat as gently as he could. It still made you jump, and you took a step back, at least as far as you could with his arms still around you. Glancing up at him, his face was red and puffy, like yours, with the remnants of tears still on his face. 

“We should probably leave.” Arthur sounded as eager as you felt. You knew he was right, but you didn’t want to leave. Leaving meant that things would continue to progress, to change. But you nodded anyway, letting him take you by the hand with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You let him lead you out of the room, past Hans’ office, and down the stairs. You let him lead you to the front entrance, and it was when you were putting on your shoes that you saw the upturned rug in the living room, the basement hatch sitting out in the open. A thought flashed in your mind, making you halt. “What about-”

“I’ll make sure someone takes care of it. You don’t gotta be there for that.”

Forcing down guilt, you nodded, and he led you outside. The sight of Bear approaching was a welcome one, and despite everything, you managed a light chuckle. “Hey there, Bear,” you whispered, rubbing his snout when he met you at the bottom of the stairs. “You’ve been takin’ care of Arthur?”

He snorted in response, his head bumping against your hand. “Of course you have. I’ve missed you, buddy.”

Bear was still as Arthur helped you onto his rear, sliding into the saddle after. You didn’t bother to look at the house as you rode away, keeping your head pressed against Arthur’s back, your arms wrapped around his body. You rode away from all you’d known for the last two years; the secret gardens, the stifling room, the secrets and lies and uncertainty.

When you’d looked to the futured, you’d hope to leave this place with a purpose, a certainty in life. And here Arthur was in your arms, just like you wanted, like you imagined. Yet you felt no joy, only a deep sadness that dug into every fiber of your being. The early morning rays warmed your body, but you couldn’t feel it. All you could feel was cold dread.

Was this truly the end?

[scenedenial]

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Sydney Adamu/Richie Jerimovich

i’ll sleep in the rain under your headlights -> 6,407 words “Wow, Richie, that’s so charming. You’re so fucking charming.” “Yeah, sweetheart, you could learn something.” Richie cups her chin in his palm, swipes drool off her mouth. Sydney’s chest squeezes. “Don’t call me sweetheart.” “Sweetheart. Are you gonna bitch at me or are you gonna suck my cock?” i can take you higher -> 11,278 words “You want one, right?” “A star? I mean, yeah. Who doesn’t?” “I think we could do it,” Richie says, pacing the kitchen. “But Carmy —” “Yo, fuck Carmy. I’m saying you and me could do it.” Richie is a different person now. Sydney makes him want to be a different person: a better person. and you’ll feel it all over -> 1,717 words If Sydney was going to have a baby it would not be with Richie Jerimovich. So why can’t she stop thinking about it? i wanna start over, i wanna be winning (slow show part 1) -> 7,427 words “I’m not going to Vegas,” Sydney says again. “I actually cannot think of anything worse than being in Vegas right now.” “Um, I can,” Nat says, doing her bra back up. “Being here. C’mon, it’ll be good for you. Change of scenery.” “I don’t want a change of —” “If you won’t do it for you,” Nat cuts her off, “then do it for me. I need this. Look at me. Look at these fucking sandbags attached to my body. We’ll make it an, I don’t know, anti-bachelorette. Okay?” Natalie is giving her these big begging eyes and Sydney can feel her resolve to soldier on as the world’s most resigned jilted-bride-turned-interim-executive-chef weaken and crack. “Fine. Fine. But you’re buying my drinks. And you better cancel the fucking strippers.” you know i dreamed about you, i missed you (slow show part 2) -> WIP Sydney is still at The Bear because leaving would be losing, would be admitting defeat, would be giving Carmy the easy out. You fucked up my whole life but, okay, let me be the bigger person, let me make your life easier, sure, fine, okay. He can’t do this and not lose anything. He can’t do this and go back to how things used to be. She won’t let him. you never use words you can’t afford -> 1,923 words Richie knows she would never admit it to herself, let alone to him, because it’s totally antithetical to the carefully constructed independent woman take no prisoners masterchef girlboss extraordinaire thing she has going on, but Sydney fucking lives to be told she’s doing a good job. She fucking gets off on it.

Carmy Berzatto/Richie Jerimovich

i put my hand over the stove to make sure i still feel it -> 5,240 words Richie shrugs, paws at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He feels suddenly very fragile, like unstable, like a bomb. Like he could start crying or puking or throwing punches. He remembers this feeling from childhood, like a dam somewhere inside him has broken and if he stands very still that maybe, maybe he can keep the churning contained. Since Mikey left it’s been worse. The pit in his stomach gnawing and expanding and spreading like sour poison into his mouth and fingertips. Mouth and hands that he puts on, in Carmy. Infecting him too. coming clean on a borrowed floor -> 1,796 words Carmen pretends like he’s so fucking complicated with the secretive little notebooks, the rippling muscles, the big sad blue eyes, but Richie knows him – Richie has always known him – so he gets a fist twisted into Carmy’s hair and presses his cheek into the tile and makes it easy. weren’t we the salt in the sea? -> WIP It’s the worst possible thing, especially here and now, walking in the ghost of Mikey’s footsteps, seeing him everywhere, feeling him everywhere. The prodigal baby brother, home at last, playing the role but in no way filling it. Carmy’s presence here only makes Mikey’s absence clearer. He knows it; everybody knows it. It’s all Carmy should be thinking about. It’s all any sane person would be thinking about. Instead, he watches a bead of sweat snake down the back of Richie’s neck as he pulls up disintegrating tile in the bathroom of the restaurant.

Other

i would shovel the worms that inhabit your brain: Carmy Berzatto/Sydney Adamu/Richie Jerimovich -> 10,845 words It’s not that Richie doesn’t like Sydney. She’s pretty and mean and she can clearly cook her ass off. She’s exactly the kind of woman he goes for: smart mouth, long hair, homicidal tendencies. She’s a little young, but other than that, yeah. Richie could like her. The issue is that Carmen acts ridiculous around her. Her first day, him trailing her around the kitchen like a dementedly friendly shadow: here’s the dish pit, here’s the spice rack, stay away from Richie, hardee-har-har. Whatever, Carmy, Richie thinks, it’s not like you had my dick in your throat twelve hours ago. Oh, wait.