#i just throw colors and blobs and strokes at it until it Looks Right

[dykethevvitch]

new painting, to break in my new tablet! I got my first screen tablet yesterday!

[shinobicyrus]

Meeting for the First Time Again

A short little DS9 fic inspired by @c-rowlesdraws more alien redesign of Dax. Here’s a re-imagining Sisko’s reunion with his old friend.

Besides bearing DS9’s new Science and Medical officers, the USS Bhaskara was offloading much-needed support personnel and medical supplies for both the station and Bajor. With the Enterprise being called away earlier than anticipated, the Bhaskara would likely be the last Federation ship any of them would see for weeks.

Major Kira had accompanied Sisko aboard, and had stood straight-backed and on edge during the formalities between him and the Bhaskara’s captain. Charitably, Sisko figured it might not have been comfortable for her to be stuck in the unfamiliar close quarters of a Federation starship, or it maybe being surrounding by over a hundred sapients of a dozen different species all in their matching, pristine uniforms.

He still hadn’t come to a final verdict with her, yet. Certainly she had no love for the Federation. Hadn’t been at all shy to disclose that fact either, which he couldn’t help but privately admire. It was the kind of refreshingly straightforward attitude that Sisko didn’t encounter as often as he liked, anymore.

At least he knew where they stood. There may never be any friendliness there, but there could at least be a mutual respect, if they didn’t give each other brain damage butting heads all day.

Well. That was what their new doctor was for.

He was human and very young. His blue uniform was freshly replicated, and a medical bag hung off of his shoulder as if he expected to start performing first aid the moment he stepped off the ship. Sisko had read his file. Doctor Julian Subatoi Bashir had the highest qualifications of any medical practitioner he’d ever seen, and the academic accolades to have his pick of duty assignments.

Instead of research or a ship’s physician, he chooses a barely-functional Cardassian monstrosity on the furthest fringes of Federation space.

No one makes that choice unless they have something to prove. That never boded well. Sisko could only hope the few weeks tending to a people trying to recover from decades of slavery and genocide will give the good doctor a good dose of sobering reality.

Thankfully, Captain T’Shel was vulcan and took zero offense when Sisko politely declined their offer of a light tea in their stateroom. With the amount of work still needed to get DS9 up and running, it was only Logical he take his officers and return to work as soon as possible.

Their disembarkation went without incident, though Sisko half-expected the airlock to jam again. Next to him, Doctor Bashir took in the grim Cardassian architecture of the promenade with that eagerness unique to academy graduates on their first assignment; his eyes sparkled with adventure and Sisko marveled that he himself had ever been that young. 

DS9’s Science officer was more sedate, flowing over the tall rim of the airlock on many legs with a smooth, liquid grace. Two pairs of stubby but strong limbs pushed her long body upright and brought her flat, vaguely amphibian head at about his chest-level, passably mimicking a biped.

“Commander.” Major Kira looked uncertainly at her charges. “If you’d like me to give these two a tour of the station – ”

“You and Doctor Bashir go ahead, Major.” He turned to the trill and saw her already looking at him. The face of a stranger. Still, he smiled at her. “I’m afraid I have to put Lieutenant Dax to work right away.”

Dax nodded, unperturbed at being put to work so soon after a long starship journey. Not even time to throw her pack into her new quarters.

Major Kira for one just seemed relieved. The sidelong glance she gave Dax made it clear how unused she was to dealing with non-humanoids. Sisko couldn’t bring himself to judge – all of her interactions with off-worlders before now had involved Cardassians.

Before she could herd him away, Doctor Bashir half-ran past Kira to Dax’s side, stopping them from leaving. Sisko was too surprised – and too curious of Dax’s reaction – to chide him.

This time.

“Jadzia!” He adjusted the strap of his bag, completely heedless of the disgruntled glare Major Kira had leveled at him like a charging phaser. “I was thinking. Maybe we could…” He cocked his head, boyish smile shy but still precocious. “Get together later. For dinner?”

Dax did not answer immediately, as if he...she were weighing the question. As one second, then another ticked by without a response, Sisko watched the fear creep into Bashir’s eyes as it slowly dawned on him that he was holding up his commanding officer. Sisko said nothing to add or alleviate his anxiety, and Bashir stammered, looking to him and then back to Dax. “O-o-or a drink?”

Dax blinked slowly. Her mouth curled into a shape a human would find friendly. Her voice was thick, melodious and warm like rain on a muggy day. “I’d be delighted.”

Three words was evidently all it took to leave Doctor Bashir a dumb, grinning blob of hormones stuck in place in front of the airlock. Dax and Sisko left him to be pried off the deck by the Major.

They walked side-by-side down through the promenade. Sisko kept his strides small so the four shorter limbs on Dax’s lower body could keep up without much difficulty.

While trills could stand upright just fine, walking without all eight limbs was another matter; like expecting a human to hop around on one foot all day. Any Federation-raised citizen wouldn’t think twice about trill walking past low to the ground, but Curzon had stubbornly mastered the art.  

‘Gotta look them in the eye, Benjamin. Think I could have gotten anything done at Khitomer crawling around the Klingons’ pointy boots?’

Watching her walk was what did it. The dignified posture, head bobbing and both pairs of upper-arms clasped behind her back. It was all Curzon, but eerily incongruous. Like looking into the mirror and seeing the wrong color uniform.

Sisko leaned down to ask, “He’s a little young for you, isn’t he?”

“Trills mature a little faster than humans, but we’re close in Standard,” Dax said. “He’s twenty-seven and I’m –”

“Three-hundred twenty-seven?”

“You know I stopped counting, Benjamin.”

“How convenient for you.”

Dax chortled a bubbly trill laugh. “What was that human expression you told me once? About youth and old age?”

“Youth is wasted on the young.”

“A pitfall I’m glad to have avoided,” Dax grinned.

“You’re dodging the question.”

She stroked her whiskers like Curzon used to do when he was pretending to be a forgetful old man. When...she was pretending. “And what question would that be?”

“Whether the man knows he’s chasing after someone who’s technically older than his great-grandparents.

“Of course he knows,” Dax’s upper body stood a tad straighter. “He finds it fascinating. He’s never met a joined species before.”

“‘Fascinated’ isn’t the word I’d have chosen to describe it.”

“It’s the spots. And the arms,” She raised two of them to fend off his raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry Benjamin, I’ve been around humans long enough to be able to spot a harmless crush. He’ll sigh and pine at the ‘unattainable older woman’ shield he put around me until he gets over it.”

“I’ll trust your expertise on the matter,” Sisko said wryly. “While we’re on the subject, what’s your opinion of him?”

“My opinion?”

“You've trained your share of clueless ensigns and terrorized enough trill initiates...”

“That’s true,” Dax agreed. “I happen to remember one young cadet who swore he’d be captain of a starship by thirty.”

“And an admiral by forty.”

“How is that going for you?”

“Further along than Cal. And you’re changing the subject.”

Those whiskers, again. “The subject being?”

“Come on now, Dax. You two were stuck on the Bhaskara for three weeks. That’s more than long enough for you to get a good read on him.”

“Is this an official request from my superior officer?”

Superior officer. Curzon. That…was going to take some getting used to. “If it has to be, but I’d rather be talking with an old friend whose opinion I trust.”

Dax looked pensively at patterns on the deck plating as they walked. “He’s...young. Eager. Brilliant and knows it, but even the arrogance feels like an affectation. Almost obligatory. At least, it’s flimsy enough that I doubt it will last long outside of a competitive Academy environment.”

“He specifically asked to be here.”

Dax’s hum was like rippling water. “He told me that as well.”

“That sounds like a man with something to prove.” Sisko didn’t hide the disapproval in his voice. From another officer under his command, maybe. Not from Dax.

“Yes, but it’s to himself first and foremost. I’m not a counselor Benjamin, so I couldn’t tell you why, but  I’m confident his rough edges will be smoothed over with little bit of time, wisdom, and real-world experience. And,” she added with a thin smile. “The guiding hand of a wise mentor.”

“I hope I can live up to your example.”

“Oh, I meant me. You’ll do too, I suppose,” Dax winked. “I taught you everything you know.”

For the first time since he boarded that godforsaken Cardassian station, Ben Sisko laughed. “Not everything, Old Man.”

[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 28 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Hey guys. To anyone who’s still reading this story, thank you for your patience between chapters, I know it’s been slow! Here’s a link to the previous chapters. Thank you so much to some very patient and helpful betas: @opalescent-cheetah, @artificialpuddle, @blackhighheels 

Chapter Summary: Bianca faces the dreaded lawyer meeting. 

NOTE: The role of Bianca’s divorce attorney has been recast as Asia O’Hara. 

TW: Emotional abuse, physical intimidation, gaslighting, PTSD 

***

“B...don’t you want to take a break?” Courtney tries to speak casually, but she can feel the edge of frustration creeping in. Bianca has spent all weekend at the sewing machine, creating garments at a manic pace. She’s barely slept since her call with Asia on Thursday, and only eats or sleeps when Courtney forces the issue. What began as concern is now full-on anxiety over her health. “Come on...we could go for a walk. Or take a nap. And I made that pesto thing you like, so-”

“I just need fifteen minutes,” Bianca mumbles. If she can keep her hands busy, she doesn’t have to think about Asia’s words turning over and over in her mind.

Don’t expect any resolutions right away.

Be sure to send me the sonogram pictures and a blood test. They’re going to want immediate proof.

No one can predict how he’s going to react.

She doesn’t have time to stop and even acknowledge Courtney; she has no desire to bring Courtney into the firestorm of bullshit racing through her mind right now.

“You said that an hour ago.” Courtney sighs and walks closer, sitting on the edge of the table right beside her sewing machine.

“I have to finish these pants.” Bianca grits her teeth and presses the pedal harder, shoving the tweed fabric through the surger.

Courtney puts a hand on top of the machine and states matter-of-factly, “B, you’re working too hard.”

“Maybe you don’t work hard enough,” Bianca snaps back.

The second the words leave her mouth, dreads surges through her veins, making her heart race and her skin heat up. A terrible feeling creeps into her stomach. This is how it starts. A snide comment here, a sarcastic insult there. Why does she always alienate people? What’s wrong with her?

Her eyes are misty when she finally dares to raise them, to look at Courtney and assess the damage. Only when she does, it’s not an angry face glaring down at her. Courtney’s expression is a bit surprised, but mostly...amused?

“Perhaps,” Courtney says with a giggle. “But my point still stands. You need to take a break.”

Bianca nods, trying to get a grip on her emotions, which at the moment feel all over the map. She’s relieved, mostly, that Courtney isn’t angry or offended, but also drowning in guilt, and her heart still races with leftover panic.

Courtney tilts her head, noticing the color in her cheeks, the glassy-eyed stare, the way her shoulders stiffen.

“Are you okay?”

Bianca nods, afraid that if she speaks, it’ll all come spilling out. All the darkness that she’s been desperately trying to hold back. The fear, the anger, the exhaustion. Courtney runs a hand through her hair, a motion that would normally be welcome and soothing. But right now, it feels almost oppressive, making Bianca’s muscles tense even more.

When she still doesn’t speak, Courtney drags a chair over and sits down right beside her. She takes both of Bianca’s hands in hers.

“Please tell me what’s wrong, Bianca.”

“I…” She doesn’t even know how to begin. The whole time she’s been living here, she’s been trying to force herself to listen to what everyone says about Jared. That what happened between them wasn’t her fault. And she does believe it, to a degree. But sometimes in her darkest hours, there’s still a sliver of doubt that creeps in.

What if it was my fault?

Because she remembers how sweet and loving and generous he was when they first met. How he showered her with love and affection. Went out of his way to make her feel special and loved and desired.

Just like Courtney does.

He wasn’t angry or cruel when they first got together. He became that way over months and years, and Bianca sometimes can’t shake the feeling that she made him that way. And even worse...her deepest fear, one she has barely even acknowledged to herself, is that not only did she make him like that. But that something inside her is so broken that she actually needs that destructive energy. That she can’t be in a normal relationship, or accept normal love.  

That no matter what she does, she will end up destroying the goodness in Courtney with her anger, her bitterness.

She’s not trying to hide these thoughts from Courtney, not exactly. She’s just so deeply ashamed, so terrified of being exposed as a monster.  

Courtney hasn’t gone anywhere. She’s still stroking the back of Bianca’s hands, waiting patiently for an explanation that Bianca knows isn’t coming. Because now, even if she wanted to, she can’t get any words out.

As hard as she tried to keep everything in, Bianca can’t stop the hot, bitter tears from streaming down her cheeks. She takes a few gasping breaths, but it’s not enough, not enough air. When she begins to hyperventilate, Courtney goes from gentle, supportive concern to overt worry, cupping her cheeks.

“Hey...look at me. We’re gonna breathe. In….out…” She nods as Bianca copies her breathing, desperately trying to pull herself together.

“Court, I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to explain,” she chokes out.  

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. Keep breathing...” She takes an exaggerated breath in.  

“No, I want to tell you...but I just…” Bianca’s breath hitches again.

“I know. I know you do.” Courtney gently brushes the tears from her cheeks. “But it can wait-”

“But you deserve an explanation.”

“It can wait,” Courtney repeats. “Just breathe.”

Bianca nods, finally releasing some of the tension in her shoulders. She sits silently, tears still trickling down her face, until her breathing is back to normal. She lets Courtney help her to her feet, pulling her into an embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m just...sometimes I get so scared that you’re gonna end up hating me.”

Courtney pulls back, looking into her eyes.

“I could never hate you. Ever,” she says.

“You say that now, but-” a sob escapes from Bianca’s chest, but she tries to push through. “But I say stupid shit, and I don’t mean it, but I-”

Courtney’s gently kissing away her tears. Her unending patience suddenly feels stifling, like Bianca will never be worth it.

“I know this is gonna end. I know I’ll fuck it up, I always do.”

Bianca watches Courtney take a deep breath, terrified that she’s already begun to destroy what they’ve worked so hard to build. Heart in her throat, stomach in knots, as she waits for the inevitable rejection.

“Look at me,” she says, waiting for Bianca’s eyes to meet hers before continuing. Saying adamantly, “I’m not him.”

Unable to respond with anything more than a slight nod, Bianca bites her lip.

“Do you hear me? I’m not him.” Courtney pulls her close again, holding her tight, lips grazing her ear. Bianca feels weak and dizzy from crying, finally allowing herself to lean on Courtney for support.

She’s not sure how long they stand there, but it’s long enough for the body heat to make her comfortably sweaty, for her lips to find Courtney’s, brushing against her in a light kiss.

“How are you doing?” Courtney murmurs. “Wanna lie down?”

“No.” Bianca tucks her face against Courtney’s neck.

“Wanna dance it out?”

“Definitely not.”

“Why not?!” Courtney asks, giggling. “Endorphins will make you feel better.”

“Good idea. Let’s have sex,” Bianca says against her skin, teeth grazing her jaw.

“Mmm, no. If we have sex when you’re upset, you’re gonna associate sex with trauma, which will take a lot of the fun out of it. No sex,” Courtney finishes decisively.  

“Ugh, you’re so bossy.”

“I’m bossy?” Courtney pulls back, one eyebrow so high it’s nearly to her hairline.

Bianca laughs, finally breaking the tension in the air. She reaches up to cup Courtney’s cheek, tired and grateful and relieved all at the same time.

“Can I make you a cup of tea?” Courtney asks.

“Yeah, alright,” she agrees, settling back into her chair with a sigh.

***

Courtney would never admit it out loud, but the truth is, she’s nervous. She’s seen these ultrasound pictures before--mostly in movies and TV shows--and she’s never seen anything but a floating amorphous blob. Is she gonna have to lie and tell Bianca that a blurry mass is beautiful? What’s she going to say when it comes up on the screen?

It turns out, her worrying is all for naught. Because when she finally does look at the screen, Bianca’s hand clasped in both of hers, what she sees is the shifting image of a baby.

“Oh my god!” she can’t help exclaiming. “It looks like a person!”

“What were you expecting?” Bianca laughs.

“Um...more like...somewhere between a potato and a spaceship.”

“Ahh.” Bianca nods, then deadpans, “So are you disappointed?”

“Yeah, I was really excited about that spaceship,” Courtney giggles, nuzzling against her and squeezing her hands.

The warm, affectionate mood is killed a little by how somber Bianca seems once they’re in the car. Courtney looks over at her, reaching over to touch her cheek.

“You alright, babe?”

“Yeah. I’m just sending some shit to Asia.” Bianca looks up from her phone, biting her lip.

“Right.” Courtney’s hit by a wave of sadness, mostly for Bianca. As excited as she knows Bianca is for the baby, as much as she’s dreamed about motherhood, she knows that the bittersweet reality must never fully leave her mind. The dark cloud of her divorce hangs over her all the time, even when she’s not talking about it--even when she seems fine.

Courtney leans over the center console to brush her lips against Bianca’s temple.

After letting out a deep sigh, Bianca throws her arms around Courtney’s shoulders and buries her face into her neck.

***

Courtney stands outside the bathroom door, contemplating how best to approach Bianca this morning. She’s getting ready for what’s likely going to be a long, terrible day. Her first meeting with Jared and the lawyers, where they are supposed to (hopefully) hash out the main points of their divorce settlement. She knows that Bianca has been anxious and worried all week, even though she’s been putting on a brave face.

But last night, it seemed like it all really hit her hard. She laid awake for hours, letting Courtney hold her and talk to her about everything and nothing, just to remind her that she wasn’t alone. Courtney hadn’t drifted off until the first rays of dawn began to slant through the window, and she’s not positive whether Bianca slept at all.

Knowing that this was coming, Courtney’s been planning a surprise weekend getaway for them. Now, though, Courtney wonders if this kind of surprise after a long day with the lawyers will be too much. Maybe she didn’t think the plan through very well. She bites her lip and pushes the door open.

The counter is littered with hair appliances and makeup and assorted beauty products, what looks like everything Bianca owns spread out and opened. There’s not a hair out of place, and her face is fully beat. Compared to the relaxed, softer look she’s been moving towards since she moved in with Courtney, it’s almost jarring to see her this glammed up again.

“Hey,” Courtney says, moving toward her slowly, careful not to disturb any of the open powders and pots and bottles. She offers a smile, adding, “You look beautiful.”

Bianca can’t help but feel defensive. Of course, Courtney is giving her a simple compliment. The kind she gives her all the time, every day. But her insecurity immediately turns it into a judgement.

“I’m not trying to impress him,” she says. Her feelings for Jared, at this point, are crystal clear--she has no interest in getting back together with him, is sure she never will. But for some stupid reason, she can’t bear walking into that office looking different than she had when they were married. It feels, in an unjustifiable way, like that would be admitting something to him; it feels like that would make her even more vulnerable than she already is. “I know it’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Courtney replies. She can see the anxiety on Bianca’s face, her tense muscles, the little line where her brow furrows. Her heart aches for how scared Bianca must be feeling. She reaches out and gently touches Bianca’s sleeve. “And you don’t have to justify anything to me. Do whatever you need to prepare.”

Bianca puts down her mascara and sighs, closes her eyes. She feels anything but prepared. What in the world made her think that a little makeup and a curling iron would fix that? Courtney takes her hands.

“Hey...you can do this.”

Bianca looks up, her blue eyes cloudy with pain. She hopes it’s true, but a nagging voice in the back of her head is saying the opposite.

“I just...wish it was over.”

“I know.” Courtney tucks a lock of hair back, gently running a thumb against the shell of Bianca’s ear as she does so. “But hey...later today, it will be. And as soon as you’re done, you’re gonna come back home, and then I can tell you about your surprise.”

“Did I ever tell you that I hate surprises?” Bianca says, biting back a smile.

“You have. But you’re gonna like this one.” Courtney winds her arms tighter around Bianca’s neck. “I promise. And if you don’t...then, we can do it another time.”

“Yeah? So it’s something to do?” Bianca chases Courtney’s lips with her own, pressing her against the counter.

“You’re gonna ruin your lipstick…” Courtney slyly evades both the question and the kiss, teasing her.

“Worth it,” Bianca murmurs, finally capturing Courtney’s lips in a sweet, soft kiss.

***

Asia is true to her word. When Bianca arrives, they spend the morning together, going over the game plan and wish list. After a short lunch, most of which remains untouched, Asia escorts her into a conference room and waits with her, by her side, until Jared and his attorney show up.  

Bianca keeps her eyes down, trained on the blank legal pad in front of her. She can’t look at him. Even knowing he’s there turns her stomach. She does glance at his lawyer a few times. A petite Asian woman with dark eyes and glossy hair. He’s smart to have hired a woman. She’s not sure why it surprises her.

When the arbitrator arrives, she immediately gets down to business. The attorneys spend a few minutes discussing the big ticket items - their condo, the joint retirement account. Bianca is actually relieved that there’s a pre-nup, because it seems like it’s going to make everything go faster. She allows herself, for the briefest moment, to imagine that this might happen quickly.

Before they drill down into the details, Asia hands a paper across the table. It’s a disclosure statement, short and to the point, along with a copy of her last blood test. The most recent sonogram. The arbitrator looks it over, nods, and hands a copy to Jared’s attorney.

Bianca can sense Jared’s energy when his lawyer shows him. She hears his hands slam against the table, hears his lawyer do her best to quickly calm him down, get him to hush.

Her eyes are downcast, blurry with tears that begin to drip slowly down her nose, splashing on the legal pad. Asia puts a hand on her back.

“Do you need a break?” Asia whispers, and Bianca nods vigorously.

***

The meeting seems to disintegrate quickly once Bianca leaves the room, which doesn’t surprise her at all. She knew full well that this news was going to be a wrench in the plan. That Jared’s limited time of playing nice would be over.

Asia’s assistant brings her a glass of water, which she attempts to drink slowly, reminding herself to breathe every few seconds. She flexes her fingers and toes whenever they start to tingle, brings her focus back to the physical.

When Asia enters her office to give the update, she’s prepared. Jared is unwilling to negotiate any further. His lawyer quarantined him alone in another room to have his tantrum and requested to schedule a follow-up meeting in a few weeks. No financial agreements will happen until custody is worked out. They knew this would most likely be the case, so now it’s a waiting game until they see what Jared asks for.

Bianca nods.

“Are they still here?”

“They’re packing up now,” Asia tells her. “You’re welcome to stay here until you feel ready.”

“Thanks.”

Though all Bianca really wants is to go home, she takes her time, texting Courtney for a bit while she calms down. She doesn’t want to risk running into him in the lobby or at valet parking. She has a sick feeling when it’s time to go down to her car, and though she feels a bit silly, asks Asia if someone can walk her down.

Once she’s safely in her car, she breathes a sigh of relief. Soon she’ll be home; it’ll be over for the day. She’s even finding herself improbably excited for whatever surprise Courtney’s been planning all week. She takes a deep breath and pulls out.

Her relief is short-lived. At the parking gate, she rolls down her window to slide in her ticket, when Jared races up to the car like a bat out of hell, before she even knows what’s happening. He somehow manages to reach in, yanking the door open before she has a chance to react.

She has no idea what he’s screaming. All her brain can comprehend is the rage, the fury in his eyes as he rants at her, accuses her of all kinds of things. She knows she’s yelling back, telling him to stop, trying to pull her door closed, but he’s overpowering her, forcing her to listen to his tirade. It’s a complete out of body experience.

It must have been a hell of a commotion. Because the next thing Bianca knows, she’s somehow sitting on a bench by the elevators, head between her legs, as Asia’s heels come clicking towards her in a hurry.

“Bianca! Shit…” Asia sits beside her, places a hand on her back. “I’m so sorry. You’re supposed to be safe here.”

Bianca lifts her head. Her cheeks are wet with tears she doesn’t remember, and she scrubs at them with the sleeve of her jacket.  

“We’re gonna get statements from the guys down here, okay? I should be able to fast-track a restraining order.”

“Alright,” Bianca says, mind starting to spin. How are they supposed to negotiate a divorce under these conditions? What’s gonna happen to her baby?

“I don’t want you to drive right now. Is there someone we can call to pick you up?”

Bianca nods. Courtney’s waiting for her - probably expecting her to walk in the door at any moment. She pulls out her phone and goes to her recent calls with shaky fingers, then turns to Asia, grasping her sleeve.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Okay.” Asia takes the phone from her, glancing down at the screen. “I can handle it. Courtney? Is that your girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” Bianca closes her eyes, feeling useless and dumb, the way she always does when words fail her.

“I’ll fill her in, and then we can go upstairs to wait,” Asia tells her.

“Thanks,” is all Bianca can manage. She lowers her head again, praying for it all to be over quickly.

***

Last week, while filming a very awkward sex scene, Courtney let it slip to one of her favorite costars how stressed Bianca has been, and how she wished she could give her a break. He generously offered his house in Santa Barbara for the weekend, and Courtney figured that it would be the perfect way for Bianca to decompress after her meeting with the lawyers.

But all day, she’s been anxious. She was anxious while she packed their bags and loaded up the car, waiting to hear from Bianca. And she was anxious when Sasha arrived to pick up the puppies. So much that her friend immediately saw it and suggested that they have a cup of herbal tea while they wait for Bianca to finish.

Even after she gets the text that Bianca is on her way home, something gnaws at her stomach. She supposes that until she sees Bianca in person and knows that she’s truly okay, she won’t be able to feel better.

“Do you want me to wait with you until she gets home?” Sasha asks, a hand covering hers.

“Do you mind?” Courtney says, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Not at all.”

Courtney feels a little stupid and overly dramatic, but she’s grateful that Sasha is so perceptive. They chat about her students this term, and an art show she’s putting together, and when Courtney’s phone rings, she’s able to answer cheerfully.

“Hey baby, what’s up?”

“Hi, Courtney? This is Asia. Bianca’s attorney.”

Courtney feels her blood turning to ice, fear rushing through her.

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?!”

“She’ll be fine, but--Jared accosted her in the parking lot. She’s a bit shaken and I don’t think she should drive.”

“Oh, god.”

“Do you think you can come, and-”

“Of course!” Courtney exclaims. “Of course, I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Can you text me the address? I’m sorry, I just don’t have-”

“Absolutely, I’ll do that right now.”

“Thank you.” Courtney looks up at Sasha, panicked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll drive you.” Sasha’s already on her feet, placing the mugs into the sink and rinsing them. She grabs her keys and ushers the dogs into the carrier.

***

All Bianca feels is numb as she waits, fingers digging into the throw pillow in her lap. She has no idea how much time has passed when Courtney appears in the doorway, then flies straight to her.

Feeling Courtney’s arms around her, finally, unleashes something. She begins to cry, an unwelcome avalanche of tears that makes her hate herself even more.

“Baby…” Courtney crawls into her lap, stroking her hair and rocking her.

It feels like ages until she finds her voice again, choking out, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong!” Courtney holds her tighter, cheek pressed to the top of her head. Her heart hammers in her chest, terrified of what Jared might do next, but knowing that her fears are nothing compared to what Bianca must be feeling.

“I’m just...sorry. I know you’ve been planning something, and I-”

“Oh jesus, Bianca, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re okay.” Courtney cradles her face and looks at her, eyes bright, brow furrowed in concern. “It was just a little weekend getaway thing, you know? We can do it another time.”

“Actually,” Asia interrupts, then looks a little chagrined when they turn to her. “Sorry for eavesdropping, I just wanted to tell you that it might be a good idea. For you to go out of town for a couple of days. I don’t want to freak you out, but...at least until the protective order is in place.”

“When will that be?” Bianca asks tiredly.

“Monday morning,” Asia says. “I promise. We have everything we need.”

Bianca nods.

“Well...if that’s what you want, we could go,” Courtney says, smoothing down her hair. “I have all our bags packed and in the car downstairs.

“What about the dogs?”

“They’re downstairs too. With Sasha. She drove me here because she was gonna watch them this weekend. Is that okay?”

Bianca nods, then asks quietly, “Can I see them first?”

“Of course!” Courtney leans forward to kiss the tears slipping down her cheeks. “Whatever you need.”

They sit together for a few more minutes, until Bianca feels composed again--as much as she can, considering the circumstances. Courtney slides off her lap and offers a hand, helping her to her feet.

The leave hand in hand, fingers laced together, Bianca gripping Courtney tightly to keep herself grounded. As they wait for the elevators, she manages to give Courtney a small, grateful smile.

[ladyscribbles]

Crow: Chapter One

I was just walking down the street when I saw some kid my age thrust a knife into her forehead. 

Now, isn’t that a hook? Really cuts through your short attention span and gets to the point. Alright, alright, I’ll stop with all these totally cleaver puns (but considering my ultra-writer-nerd-ness, can you really blame me for making them?).

Alright, so back to the crazy girl.

She was pretty lanky and had wild, unruly auburn hair. She also had a crooked nose that looked like it’d been broken several times. She was wearing a black cloak over a black dress with fishnet sleeves. Connecting the cloak was a bright red brooch, a stark contrast to the rest of her clothing. There were also weird, wire-thin horizontal stripes on her skin that I’d originally mistaken as part of her outfit.

Other than the knife sticking out of her head, the whole image made her look hot, not gonna lie. 

“Oh, hello there,” she greeted nonchalantly as she thrust the blade out, black blood gushing out. Yeah, black blood.

“And I thought my middle school fanfiction was weird.”

“Yeah. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

I walked up and stopped a foot away. “So you gonna say I’m special or something and take me to some magical world to defeat some tyrant ruler?”

“That’s awfully optimistic.” She then placed her hand onto my forehead. “Especially when it comes from a corpse.”

“Wait, what-”

Then there was a flash of white, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, throwing up my lunch. Aw man, the old man’s gonna be worried, I thought dazedly. Then I noticed the black combat boots in front of me. I had the irrational thought that they were mine for a second before I realized they were too big. Plus, they were a hell of a lot more worn out than mine.

“Get up.”

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and slowly rose to my feet. The girl was staring at me with narrowed eyes, her arms crossed. Well, actually, only one black eye was narrowed. The other was hidden under messy bangs swept over the left side of her face.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, and she sounded angry.

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

The girl let out an aggravated sigh and placed her hand on a nearby bush. I watched in horror as each individual leaf shriveled up and died, leaving nothing but a wooden skeleton. “I kill with just one touch,” she growled, sounding much more intimidating than me (and I was the one with the deadpan, gravelly voice).

I then widened my eyes as the color drained from my face. “You...you were going to kill me.”

Holy shit.

“So why didn’t you die?”

I shook my head to snap myself out of my stunned daze. “You were going to kill me! What the hell?!” I yelled, my voice shaking. “Just who the hell are you?!”

“Crow,” she said after a few moments.

“No last name?”

“No.”

“Alright, then I’m Red. Now just what in the hell is going on here?”

Crow rolled her eyes and cracked her neck. “I’m dealing with another freak, it seems.”

“Don’t call me a freak when you freakin’ stabbed yourself in the head and tried to kill me!”

“Well, I’m not going to kill you now.”

“That’s reassuring,” I muttered. I then looked around. We were standing in the middle of a desert with black sand. As if that wasn’t strange enough, there wasn’t anything around for miles. “What the actual fuck.”

And to top it all off, I probably just made this beyond PG-13. Unless I’m allowed to have one more f-word up my sleeve.

I then took a deep breath and pulled out the tiny pad of paper I always kept in my sweater pocket. I checked my right ear for a pen and found one. I began to scribble furiously, letting my frustration pour out onto the white canvas in harsh, impulsive strokes. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Crow questioned as I felt her gaze over my shoulder. 

“Managing my emotions in a god-damn healthy manner.” I then closed the notebook and put it away, having released my feelings. “There. Now I’m better equipped to face shit.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“I was hoping that was only a fluke. But no. I still can’t kill you.”

I backed away from her, uneasy. I seriously didn’t like how she talked about death with such ease. In fact, it unnerved me to my very core. It was like being in the same room with a serial killer. You know what? She probably is. I shivered. 

“Uh, so where are we?”

“The desert.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“If you must know, this lies just beyond the outskirts of Jakraut. Now come.” Crow walked several steps right, but I didn’t move. Why the hell would I? She turned around. “What are you waiting for?”

“Why would I go somewhere with someone who tried to kill me?” 

“Suit yourself. I figured you wouldn’t want to deal with the sand lards on your own, but I don’t care either way.”

“Sand lards?”

“Farewell. Perhaps they won’t be able to kill you either.”

I bit my lip and ran to catch up with her. “Alright, fine! You win!”

She raised her brow. “I wasn’t aware I was in a competition.”

“So, um, how long will it take to get to this Jakraut place?” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t pay attention to the time. It hardly matters. Minutes and hours are all the same to me.”

“Uh, okay. What is it like? Jakraut, I mean.”

“It’s a small village. The only thing of worth there is the poison shop.”

“Poison? Are you an assassin or something?”

“No. It’s for me.”

“You...you poison yourself?”

“Enough with the questions. They’re annoying and serve no purpose.”

“Sorry if I was curious about why someone would voluntarily poison herself.”

Crow ignored me and continued onward at her brisk pace. Her long legs covered much more ground than mine, making it nearly impossible to keep up with her. Plus, I wasn’t exactly in peak condition. Several minutes later, she stopped without warning, and I bumped into her.

A few seconds passed, and then she quickly jerked me out of the way right as a giant cloud of dust and sand rose up from the ground. When both cleared, I gaped at what had been hidden.

It was a giant - and I mean giant - blob of what looked like fat. Sand lard. Definitely a sand lard. 

“Make sure not to touch it,” Crow warned. 

Why the hell would I voluntarily touch a thing like that? 

As if she thought I was dumb enough to do such a thing, she set out to prove her point. She reached her hand into the sand lard’s side and swiftly pulled it out. Her hand had been reduced to its skeleton, dripping with acid, and I had to bite back the bile that rose in my throat.

“I think I got the point,” I replied, unnerved by both the lard’s acidic effects and Crow’s complete lack of concern.

The lard then melted before my very eyes until it had been reduced to a mere puddle. Oh, yeah, death touch.

“I believe we’re close now,” Crow announced as she began walking again.

“Now hold on!” I cried as I grabbed her arm. “Are you just going to ignore-” I then stared at her hand. It had completely healed itself. “Oh, you have healing powers?” I think I wrote a story about a girl with healing powers once. 

“Obviously,” she replied before wrenching her arm free from my grip. “Otherwise the stab wound from before would still be there.” Stab wound…? Oh, yeah, the knife in the forehead.

“Are you immortal?”

“Yes.”

“So nothing can kill you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Uh, okay.”

“I’m tired of the delays. Let’s get going already,” Crow growled impatiently.

I nodded in agreement. After all, I figured it wouldn’t be wise to stick around and wait for more of those creatures to show up. 

Maybe five minutes of awkward silence passed before I simply couldn’t bear it anymore. “So...where’d you get your powers?”

“I was born with them.”

“You were?”

“Yes,” she growled impatiently after cracking her neck.

“So you’re immortal. Do you feel pain?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

So that explained why she reacted so calmly when she stabbed herself and plunged her hand into an acidic substance. “Why is that?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

“Before, you said I was a freak like you. Does that mean people don’t usually have powers here?”

“As far as I know.”

“Could you maybe answer with more than just five words?”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass.” 

“Well, that’s six, so I guess that’s an improvement.”

“I wasn’t aware my behavior was being critiqued by an annoying-ass earthling.” She then heaved a sigh and gestured in front of us. “Look, town. Get distracted.”

I turned away from her to gaze at Jakraut. Like she’d said, it was pretty small. There were only maybe ten houses in sight. Plus there was a store with a large sign that read in big, block letters: POISON! GET YOUR POISON HERE AT KILL-ONE, KILL-ALL! Then in smaller print underneath it, there was a little caption: Cyanide and belladonna half-off this week only. Get it while supplies last.

“You’re right. The only interesting thing here is the shop.” Though I’m sure as hell not interested in buying anything. Hell freakin’ no. 

Crow slammed the door open, a little bell chiming at her entrance, and she hurried in. I followed her inside and stared at the shelves upon shelves of bottles that surrounded me. Whoa. That was a lot of poison. 

I watched uneasily as Crow picked up a large bottle covered with danger labels all over. She peered at it closely before grabbing another one and placing both into a basket. I followed her around the store as she snatched several more poisons of different shapes and sizes. Crow didn’t stop until the basket was nearly full. I followed her to the counter and watched her plop the basket down, and several loud clinks sounded from the countless bottles. 

“How much do I owe you?” Crow asked the man there. 

He stared at her for a few moments before looking over each and every item. A few seconds passed as he ran the math through. “Th-that comes up to about twelve hundred.”

Crow dumped a large sack down. From the sound of it, that thing was filled to the brim with coins or some shit. “This should cover it.” 

He nodded vigorously and snatched the bag away. “H-have a nice day!” 

Crow rolled her eyes before taking off a backpack I hadn’t noticed until now and dumping the bottles into one of its compartments. All but one, anyway. As we walked out, I watched with dismay as she opened it and started chugging it. 

“That really won’t affect you, will it?” 

“Only if I’m optimistic,” she replied before returning to guzzling the liquid. 

“Where are we heading now?” 

“Away from Jakraut,” she replied between drinks. 

“Where, exactly?” 

“Does it really matter to you?” 

“Well, I do appreciate knowing where I’m going whenever I travel with immortals who guzzle poison for fun.” 

Crow rolled her eyes as she downed the last few drops of the bottle and reached inside her bag for another. “I am not forcing you to accompany me. You’re making the decision to follow me.”

“Because I don’t want to be left out in the middle of nowhere alone with no idea where I am or what’s going on!” I snapped. I pinched the bridge of my nose and took several deep breaths. “Look, if you were in my shoes-”

“Then I would have a higher chance of dying and this conversation would be over in an instant,” she replied before taking a shot. She then sighed. “If you must know, we’re heading to the station.”

“As in a train station?” Crow nodded in response. “Where is it going?” 

“A town down south. I have a contract there.”

“Contract? It’s not a killing one, is it?” I asked worriedly, hoping that I wasn’t stuck with an assassin or something horrible like that. 

“No.”

I waited, but she never added anything. “Are you going to clarify or what?” 

“Why would I feel the need to clarify myself to a stranger I couldn’t give two shits about?” 

I let out a groan. The one time I was sucked into a different world, and I got stuck with an apathetic asshole with no clear goal in mind. Where was the whimsical feeling of experiencing a whole new place full of fantasy and wonder? Where were the heroes that fought for truth and justice and defended the weak with their awesome power? Where were the vibrant, fantastical creatures that either helped or hindered the heroes on their quest? Speaking of which, where was the god-damn quest?!

“Damn it! If I was going to get dragged to a different world, it could’ve at least been better than this!” I took a deep breath. “Well, maybe I just need to experience it more,” I muttered to myself. “Surely, this isn’t all there is to it.”

And it could be worse. I could be alone. And though she’s a total asshole, Crow seems willing enough to protect me from stuff like those sand lards. Hmm, maybe she’s only an asshole because she has a dark past and/or hasn’t had anyone show her compassion or love. Considering her awful power, it fits. If I was gonna write a character with her kind of personality and abilities, I’d probably go either route or even both.

“Do you have a dark and tragic backstory?” I queried. Crow ignored me, instead taking several drinks. “Would you share it if we became closer?”

“I’ve heard drinking together is an activity that can bring people closer,” Crow commented drily as she held out the bottle. 

I grinned nervously. “Uh...I think I’ll pass.”

“Then shut the hell up,” she replied before taking yet another swig.

I sighed. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I’d be better off alone after all. 

My stomach then grumbled. “Can we stop somewhere to eat?” I asked, ignoring the learned instinct to just not ask at all.

Crow heaved an exasperated sigh. “Right. I forgot you have mortal needs. Luckily for you, my train isn’t scheduled to leave for a few days, so I can afford the delay to the nearest town.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered. I then stumbled and fell. A brief feeling of fatigue washed over me before I shoved it away and got back up again. I’m alright, I’m alright. “So how far away is the nearest town?” I asked after a few minutes of walking.

“A few miles.”

“Okay.”

Since Crow wasn’t exactly a conversationalist, I was left with my thoughts. I decided to think about the story I was working on - well, one of them, anyway. 

So far, it was about this elven girl who leaves her village to explore the world, as well as learn more about the human race, which kind of dominated most places. The only reason she’d never come across them before was the fact that her village was in a very secluded, hidden area. Maybe some enchantment is involved too. She also has sacred tattoos that’d been passed down from generation to generation, but what she doesn’t know is that they also contain some hidden power. And that was all I had at the moment.

Maybe elves are on the brink of extinction, and part of her quest is to discover them. Maybe humans don’t know about the elves’ existence since there’s so few of them left. Maybe...

After becoming lost in my thoughts for maybe a good half hour, I collapsed. Just like before, fatigue washed over me, except much stronger. I shook my head and shakily rose to my feet. I can handle this. Surely, it isn’t too much farther. Once again, my weakened legs collapsed from underneath me. I tried to get up but couldn’t find the strength to do it.

Aw, shit, I’m going to pass out, aren’t….I…?

END OF CHAPTER ONE

[mrs-hollandstan]

Unprepared || Harrison Osterfield

Request: Could you maybe do a series where you're dating Haz and he gets you pregnant by accident but he's like that happiest dad ever and hes so concerned about you when he finds out. And he's there for you almost all the time??

Warnings: slight smut in the beginning, doubt, sickness, just pregnancy related stuff bruv, Uncle Tommo too.

Word Count: 3,476

Author's Note: This has been a work in progress and I'm proud of how it turned out. There is a second part in the works and feel free to ask to be added to a taglist I'll make for future part(s) of this or just my taglist in general. 😊

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Next⟶

"Oh God yes Harrison, right there."

The night had progressed from a random party at Tom's house, provided to him by Marvel, to Harrison bruising your thighs as he practically slammed you into the bathroom's sink, hoisting you up on it and going to town. He'd had a few but he was sober enough to remember all of you, and when he unbuttoned his own pants, his eyes glimmered in lust. Sliding them down to the middle of his thighs, he jerked himself hard the rest of the way before slamming into you. Haz had been rough before, you were used to the feeling, but there was something different this time, you couldn't exactly place what it was.

He felt better and you felt closer to him, clinging to his shoulders, dragging your nails over the same spots, raising your own red marks on his tan skin. Each deep, hard thrust was accentuated by a new bruise to your neck and shoulder, his lips whispering the naughtiest things out against them. And it didn't occur to you what felt different until he was holding your hips against his and spilling deep inside of you that he decided to forgo a condom. But you figured you'd be fine, seeing that you'd been so stressed with graduating college and scrambling to find a job, the first time surely wouldn't end in you knocked up with Haz's baby.

Oh how you were wrong.

Morning sickness hit you hard before you could even discover it was morning sickness. Harrison was worried sick, but there was nothing he could do, sitting on set with Tom. Tom was just as worried, telling Harrison it was okay if he left but it wasn't up to the two of them. As soon as he was released, he bolted, driving home as fast as he could and running up the stairs. He found you in the kitchen, sipping tea,

"Hey, you okay?" You nod, laying your head against his shoulder when he wraps his arms around you,

"What's the matter love? You get food poisoning?" You shake your head,

"I have no idea. I just feel disgusting." He tsks,

"I'm sorry love. Let's go take a warm bath, maybe that'll make you feel better." Nodding, you follow him into the bathroom, your hand in his. The minute warm water soaks into your body, Harrison's body against yours and his lips against your temple, you instantly feel better. Relaxing against him, it takes only a few minutes before your eyes pop open and you come to a realization,

"Oh my god."

"What?" Harrison is quick to speak, afraid you're realizing something is seriously wrong. You climb from the bathtub, not caring of the water trail you lead, crouching to open the cabinets beneath the sink,

"I never fucking thought I'd use these but it was just a precautionary thing." Harrison watches you with curious eyes as you pull out a box of two pregnancy tests, his vibrant, ocean colored eyes going wide,

"You don't really think-"

"Its been long enough that I could be. You didn't use a condom last time." Sitting up straight, he watches you thoroughly read the test package before using both and setting them on the counter. Wrapping a towel around your body, you sink down next to the bathtub, water sloshing around Harrison as he scoots closer to you and brushes your hair off to one shoulder. Kissing below your ear, he sighs,

"If you are pregnant... we'll be okay." Looking to him, you find his face calm and its comforting. You nod, leaning in to his lips when he kisses your cheek. Trailing his fingers across your spine, you check your phone every few minutes until ten is up, glancing back at your boyfriend. He gives a reassuring smile, nodding just the slightest before stroking your back and letting you stretch to grab both tests. Leaning back, you swallow nervously before changing your mind and ditching your towel to climb back into the bathtub. Harrison binds his arms around you, taking a deep breath,

"If you're scared to know, I'll look." You take the same deep breath, staring up at the ceiling with your heart pounding out of your chest,

"No matter what, our lives change Harrison. If I'm pregnant we have to make the decision of keeping them or not. If I'm not pregnant we had a pregnancy scare, I'm still sick and-"

"I'm not going anywhere. No matter what, we are in this together and I am more than willing to raise a baby with you if that's what we choose to do." Staring up into the calm eyes that you've fallen in love with over and over again daily, you knew more than anything that Harrison was nervous to be a father if your tests were positive. But you also knew that if they were, he'd be an amazing father and the ultimate supporter in all of your choices. You nod, closing your eyes and welcoming his lips in your hair. He sighs, sitting back and letting you take your time in looking at the small plastic sticks in your hand. Glancing up at him one more time, he smiles again before his eyes flick down to the tests as you flip them over. Your heart stops in that moment when there's two pink lines across both tests. Gasping for the lost air in your lungs, you look up at Harrison, his eyes glued to your positive pregnancy tests,

"Holy shit." Breathing hard with a forced chuckle, his lips turned up into a smile, "oh my God love... you're pregnant." Sitting up, you cover your mouth, tears pricking your eyes. Harrison sits with you, his chest still pressed to your back as he rests his palms over your belly,

"Harrison-" he nods, staring into your eyes when you turn just the slightest,

"I'm gonna be a daddy." Your heart skips a beat when he utters the words. You hadn't expected it. You weren't prepared for it. But you were excited for it. His hands dance across the skin of your stomach, his fingertips brushing against your belly button. Standing from the tub, Harrison follows, the both of you drying off before you stand antecedent the mirror. Harrison places his hand on your hips as you look your own naked body over. He smiles in the mirror, watching you turn sideways,

"So... where do we go from here? You... wanna keep them?" Staring at his beautiful, excited face, you think over your answer. Abortion had never been a question when you thought about babies. You'd dreamed of having a family one day and standing before the mirror, it was all coming true with a man that you loved and inside, he was praying you agreed to keep his baby. He wanted to watch you grow his little one, knowing that you loved something he provided you with. He wanted to, in nine months, hold a little one to his chest that you grew in your body that resembled the both of you. And you could read in his eyes, the answer to the question you wanted to ask. But you decided to anyways.

"Do you... want me to keep them?" Without hesitation he nodded, his smile widening,

"I know that it's a lot, but I'm more than in love with you and if bringing a baby into this world is what the universe is throwing our way then yes... yes I wanna keep them. I would love to raise a baby with you." The tears that came to your eyes were happy, excited tears and as you turned to Harrison, he laughed, wrapping his arms around you, resting his head over yours. You sighed, holding him close,

"We're having a baby." He laughed with you, tears running down the both of your faces as realization hit you like a truck. You were having Harrison's baby.

                                                        ------

"Jeez... it's just a little blob." Tom mumbled, running his fingers over the sonogram while Harrison looked over his shoulder. He smiled,

"That's your little niece or nephew Holland." Tom smiled,

"Can't believe my best mate's havin a baby." Standing back from dinner, Harrison watched you crinkle your nose,

"Y'okay love?" Nodding, you swallowed the bile rising in your throat,

"Yeah, fine. You might have to finish dinner before I throw up." He furrowed his brow, taking wary steps towards you,

"If you're getting sick now... are you gonna be able to eat it?" You shake your head, pressing a hand to your stomach,

"I don't think so."

"Love, you have to eat something." Glancing up at him, you can read the worried expression written across his face. Resting your hand on his arm, you nod,

"I know. But if I even try right now, it won't matter because I'll throw everything back up. Just... I'll worry about it okay? I'm fine." You run your hand up the expanse of his bicep before caressing his cheek with a smile. Taking a deep breath, the both of you switch roles, Harrison standing before the stove after opening a window and you standing just behind Tom, your hand on his chair. He glances up,

"Ya got a belly yet?" You shake your head, moving your sweater up,

"Not really... only fifteen weeks along... I mean it's there but... not really." He smiles, reaching up to run his finger from the base of your stomach, across your belly button and just under your breasts,

"There's a little one in there. So small... looks just like his or her daddy... it's kinda crazy." You nod, rubbing your tummy,

"I always knew I'd have Harrison's baby. I knew when we first got together we'd get married and have kids but... now that we're here and I'm pregnant its surreal. It's crazy but its welcomed. I'm ready for our little one." Tom cocked his head and hummed,

"Me too. I can't wait to have a little man or little darling in my arms. Gonna be so amazing. When do you guys find out the gender?" Glancing up, you look back to Harrison,

"About twenty weeks. So we got about... five more weeks." Tom nodded, eyes locked on your fingers, tracing across the small belly the baby had given you. Turning back to Harrison when he curses, the stew you'd been preparing was boiling over. Rushing back to it, you turn the heat off, stirring the contents. When the smell hits you, your stomach flips and you're rushing to the bathroom, crumbling to your knees and vomiting what you'd had for breakfast. Harrison gathers your hair in his hand, Tom squeezing past to crouch beside you and rub your back, coaxing you through your sickness. When you lean back into Haz, he sighs,

"Is it normal to be this sick all the time love?" You shrug, rinsing your mouth with a glass of water Tom handed you. Sighing, you rest your hands in your lap,

"I don't know, but little Osterfield better figure themselves out. I don't wanna be sick twenty four seven for the next six months." Harrison nods, rubbing your shoulders,

"I don't want that either baby." Standing, you shyly brush past both boys, brushing your teeth swiftly. Harrison rests his hands on your hips,

“What sounds good to eat darling. Let me make you something.” Smiling at him in the mirror, you swallow back the bile rising in your throat at the mention of food,

“Thanks Haz, but I think I’ll hold off on eating.” He cocks his head and gives a sympathetic nod,

“Okay. Lemme go finish the stew.” Leaving you and Tom in the bathroom, Tom sighs and rubs a hand over your belly, his other resting at your lower back,

“Your daddy is gonna have a coronary if you keep this up little one.” You smile, pressing your hand over his,

"I think we're all gonna die if you keep this up." Chuckling, he purses his lips, his eyebrows furrowing,

"Was there... any question of you not keeping them?" Finding your eyes, he blinks, his question being answered when you're silent for a moment. You tsk,

"It wasn't like THAT Tom. We just weren't sure if we were stable enough to be parents. I mean look at us. We're a mess and if we brought a baby into that... how selfish could we be?" He clicks his tongue, wrapping his arm around your waist,

"I can tell you right now love... you are going to be an amazing mummy to Haz's baby. I think its him you have to worry about."

"'Ey. You know I'm gonna be a great dad to my little one." Harrison pipes up, stirring the pot before him. With his eyes trained on the stew before him, Tom pulls a chair out for you, allowing you to sit before them. Rubbing your shoulders, he sighs,

"Do you want anything darling? Water, crackers, tea...?" You shake your head, placing your hand over his on your shoulder,

"I'm fine, thank you." He hums, and sits beside you, rubbing your back until Harrison serves the stew you two had gone in halves on, setting a bowl before Tom and sitting beside you. Smiling, he reaches down, placing his hand on your knee,

"I'm willing to share if you change your mind." You nod, scooting closer to him as he and Tom start a conversation, his hand wrapped in yours.     

                                                        ------

"Are we keeping the gender a secret?" The doctor asked, you looking to Harrison who squeezed your hand,

"For now... we're having a gender reveal party tonight." He smiled, looking you both over,

"Alright, I'll have my nurse write it down." Looking the little one on the screen over, he cocked his head,

"I'm guessing that this one'll be around seven or eight pounds when they're born." Scooting closer, Harrison looked up at the screen in awe and wonder, his frost colored eyes sparkling. He cocked his head as the doctor scribbled something down. He smiled and stood,

"I'll be right back." Before he left the room, Harrison stood, approaching the black and white screen, his fingers brushing over the screen oh so gently,

"I still can't believe that you're having my baby. Look at them. That's... OUR baby." Giggling, you reach out, taking his hand in your own.

"Don't go all soft on me now. We got a long way to go before we become mommy and daddy. We still have a gender reveal and a baby shower and a whole nursery to build... we have a lot Mr. Osterfield and I-"

"Marry me." With your mouth still hanging open, you swallow your tongue,

"W-what?" He stares at the little baby on the screen a moment longer before looking to you,

"Marry me. Be Mrs. Harrison Osterfield. I don't wanna be without you. And yeah... sure... here you are in all your beautiful glory, but you and I both know this is what we want." He watches tears come to your eyes as you reach out for him,

"Harrison." He takes the step forward, letting you caress his cheek before he bows to kiss you. Pecking his lips a few times you sniffle,

"The ring's at home." He mutters and you nod,

"Yes. My God yes. We'd be more than lucky to have you Harrison." He minds the gel on your belly as he leaned in for an embrace, holding you close. He backed away just as the doctor entered the room again, giving you a kind smile,

"You're ready to go. Baby's gender is in this envelope. Congratulations." You smile as he hands Harrison the envelope, shaking his hand and then yours before you follow him out to the lobby. Once in the car, Harrison sits in the driver's seat, staring down at the paper in his hands,

"God I'm so excited. Just to know if I'm getting a little mini me or a little princess." Smiling, you slide your hand over the center console and into his lap. Taking hold of your hand, he squeezes and looks to you,

"You're amazing." You smile and hold his hand tight in your own,

"You're pretty great too. I'm so in love with you and this baby." He nods, reaching across to stroke your belly,

"Me too. M'so ready to be a daddy to a little one. And I'm more than ready to be your husband." Giggling, you hold his arm with your free hand, snuggling into his side,

"Our man."      

                                                        ------

"My gosh it's beautiful. Harrison really does know how to pick 'em. Stunning girl, beautiful ring, and I can bet you anything that this little one will be the most adorable little thing in the world." Phil held your hand in her own, your cheeks going rosy as she spoke of you and your baby. A hand at your lower back brought you two,

"Hey you, let's pop that balloon. I wanna know what we're having." Harrison ran his hands around your hips, cradling your bump in his large hands. You nodded, tucking hair behind your ear before following him to the black balloon in the center of the room. Uncle Tom stood at the center of the group of friends and family, a smile on his face. Smiling back at him, Harrison placed his hand at your lower back again, handing you a thick needle. He kissed your temple,

"Do you plan on announcing the names we've picked out?" When you giggle he smiles and you shake your head,

"I dunno what we're naming him or her yet. We're at a crossroads with names. We'll hold off." He nods, nuzzling against you. Sighing, you hold the balloon still, your heart pounding in your throat as you prepare to pop it.

Harrison had been excited for both. If you were having a boy, he was excited that the Osterfield name would continue assuming you stopped at one baby. He was excited to have his baby boy accompany him to all types of sports games with Uncle Tom who would most definitely spoil his nephew with the best Spider-Man items the world had to offer. But on the other hand, Haz was most definitely excited for a baby girl. A princess for the king as he put it. He had his queen and the completion would be a princess. He could see the absolute love that Tom would have for a niece, her being his number one girl when she came along. He could see the sparkles and bows and pink now.

His heart stopped for just a moment when you stepped forward, anticipation killing him. He held his breath as the pop resounded through the room and you were showered in an array of blue confetti. Turning to him, the look in your eyes told him that despite telling him you were excited with either, you desperately wanted a little boy. And now you were getting him. You threw yourself at Harrison, hugging him around the neck as he lifted you off your feet and twirled you,

"Oh my God Haz we're having a baby boy!" He chuckled, setting you on your feet and leaning into your kiss. You held his face, eyes sparkling up at your fiancé. He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist,

"You're amazing." You giggle,

"Impressed? I'm makin your baby boy in my tummy." He chuckles again,

"Very impressed. You're spectacular and beautiful and I'm so in love with you." You giggle again, kissing him,

"I'm in love with you too daddy Haz." Pulling back, you stroke a hand over the small forming curve of your bump,

"And you too baby boy." Haz smiles, pressing his forehead to yours and his hands to your belly,

"Me too little one. I love you a whole lot already." With you giggling, Harrison's heart fluttered and he felt as though he would cry.

Years ago, when he first met you, he swore that he and you would have the perfect life together. You were beautiful and kind and funny and smart and he loved each piece of your personality that fit his like a puzzle. You were his match made in heaven and now with a few dozen dates under your belt and so much comfort with each other, you were having his little boy.

If he went back and looked at how you two were so awkward those first months and told his younger self that you were pregnant and engaged, he'd call himself crazy. The thought of, all those years ago, progressing into this was insane. He would have never thought that you would let him in the way you did. He would have never believed you'd marry him or have his baby.

Unprepared is what you were. And now you were ready. He was ready.

Permanent Taglist: @embrace-themagic @mmeeggaannn @spiderman-n @winters-beauty @smexylemony @lolabean1998

[soul-music-is-life]

Hiya! Do you think maybe you can eventually do a prompt were it’s Sam’s first Halloween? And like they dress him up in the cutest little outfit (I just love dressed up babies) and he’s like matching with Lily and Grace and I don’t know I would love to see it 🍿🔮👩🏼‍🎤👶🏼

Happy Halloween

****

“Lily, come on!” Grace pounded on her sister’s door.

“No. I look stupid. I’m not doing this.” Lily grumbled back. She stared at herreflection.

She had never been big on Halloween. She’d outgrowntrick-or-treating a few years ago. Grace still loved to go. And her family wasreally big into dressing up together. Last year they’d gone as characters from Inside Out. The year before had been Game of Thrones. Her direwolf costumehad been hot as hell. And here she was again, stuck in the fluffiest hottestcostume of the bunch. It was because she was too nice. And she let everyoneelse pick first.

“Peeease?” She heard a tiny high pitched voice thatshe’d never been able to turn down.

It was one of the few words Sam knew. Along with ‘boob’, ‘Mama’,‘no’, ‘go bye bye’, and ‘cool, dude’. The last one had been courtesy of Grace.She’d tried to get him to say ‘bitchin’ but her mothers did not approve.

Lily sighed and walked over to the door, unlocking it andcoming face to face with Grace and her baby brother. Grace’s face was paintedsilver and Sam was in his little puppy costume. He clapped his hands togetherin excitement when he saw her and reached out for her, leaning out of Grace’sarms.

“No fair using the kid against me.” Lily scowled at hersister, who looked equally ridiculous in the bulky Tin Man costume she waswearing.

Sam looked adorable as Toto though. He reached up andtouched the Cowardly Lion make-up on Lily’s face, smudging it a little.

“It is his firstHalloween. Don’t you want it to be memorable?” Grace asked.

“He’s a baby. He sucks on his toes and licks people’s noses.He’s not going to remember this.”

“He will with proof.” Grace opened up a tiny compartment inher oversized robot looking costume and whipped out her phone, quickly snappinga picture of Lily and Sam.

“I hate you.” Lily frowned.

“You look so adorable.” She jokingly reached out andscratched the curly braided mane on top of Lily’s head, jostling the red bow onthe top.

Sam squealed and then giggled. He laid his head against Lily’sfuzzy costume and stroked the material with his tiny little hands. He tugged atthe bearded mane underneath her chin.

“Girls? Are you ready yet?” They heard Alison call out fromdownstairs.

It was already dusk and they wanted to get out and aroundthe neighborhood before it got dark. They knew they needed to start earlybecause Sam had refused to take his nap earlier, so they knew he would tire outquickly.

“Coming!” Grace called enthusiastically. She bounded downthe hallway.

Lily looked down at her brother. His black Toto costumecovered his entire body. She pulled the hood up over his head, fiddling untilshe got it so the ears were straight on the top of his head.

“I’m only doing this because I love you, Sammy,” Lily said.She shifted him on her hip and leaned towards his face. “Can I have a kiss forcourage?” she puckered her lips out.

Sam knew what that meant. He pushed his lips out and gaveher a sticky baby kiss on her jaw. At the very end of it, he opened his mouth and histongue fell out like a dog’s tongue and he smiled, drooling all over her chin. Lilychuckled and wiped the drool away and then went to meet her family in theliving room.

“There’s my little Toto.” Emily smiled when she saw Lilywalking in with Sam.

Emily’s long hair was split evenly into two ponytails tiedoff with two little blue bows, matching the checkered blue dress she waswearing. The outfit was tied together with sparkly red shoes and a wickerbasket.

Initially, Emily had suggested Alison be Dorothy, but Alisonthought it would be easier for Emily to just throw her hair in pigtails. Sheplanned to go with the blondeness of her hair to be the most fabulous Scarecrowanyone had ever seen.

“Do we really have to do this?” Lily mumbled as she handed asquirming Sam over to Emily. “This costume is really hot and itchy.”

“Hey, we all have to suffer a little. You think I want towalk around all night wearing these clunky heels? At least it’s cool outside soyou’ll cool down. My feet have to suffer the whole time. Your sister and yourmother really want this, Lily. So let’s just keep the complaining to a minimum,okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You look so cute.” Emily ruffled the top of the mane on herhead.

“Now you’re just punishing me.” Lily laughed.

Grace and Alison walked into the room. Grace had put thepointy Tin Man hat on her head and she had an oil can in her hand to complete herensemble.

Alison had a pointed dark green hat on her head, her blonde hairflowing out in several directions. She’d done her best to make it look somewhatlike straw.

She was wearing a long-sleeved green top that had yellowtrimming around the collar. She had on a burlap colored brown skirt tied offwith a roped belt. Her legs were covered with pale yellow ripped pantyhoserunning down into a pair of long tan boots that had light yellow tassels onthem.

Emily smiled at her. Her wife was the sexiest Scarecrow thatshe’d ever seen. She couldn’t wait until after the kids went to bed. Suddenly,she wasn’t thinking about how much her feet were going to be hurting anymore.

“Are we ready to go?” Alison questioned.

“Oh, we forgot one thing.” Grace scurried off into thekitchen.

A few seconds later she came back in with their dog Busteron his leash. He had on a light blue vest with spiky flames and gray wingssticking out the back. The wings matched his bluish-gray medium-length fur. Therewas a light blue hat with flames that matched the vest tied around his head,which was probably going to be pawed off the second they walked out the door.

“I still think Grace should have been the evil monkey.” Lilysuggested.

“Just you wait until next year when we do The Three Little Pigs.” Grace grinned.

“I will huff and I will puff and I will throw a shoe at yourface.”

“Girls.” Emily tried to mediate. “The night is young. Pleasesave your squabbling for when your brother is screaming his head off and thedog has plopped down in the middle of the sidewalk and refuses to move until wetake the hat off of his head and the neighbors are all staring at us andjudging us. You know, normal family stuff.”

Alison walked over to Emily.

“You look hot,” she said teasingly.

“You too, babe.” Emily replied.

“Ew, gross. Don’t traumatize Sam with your mushy stuff.” Graceshook her head with a frown.

The girls were at an age where love and affection was “icky”,which was fine by their moms because it meant they weren’t dating yet, whichmeant they weren’t swapping spit with anyone yet.

“Are you ready for your first time trick-or-treating, babyboy?” Alison reached out and pinched Sam’s cheeks, careful not to smudge thelittle black blob that had been drawn on his nose as the end of his doggy snout.

His mouth fell open into a stupid grin and he bounced inEmily’s arms.

“Mama mama!” He exclaimed in excitement. “Go bye bye?” Heasked.

“Alright Dorothy, lead the way.” Alison smiled at Emily.

They took the kids around the block. Then they ventured alittle out of the neighborhood. Sam was good for the most part. He got a littlefussy when he saw something that scared him, but his sisters were always rightthere to assure him he was okay.

They ran into Caleb and Hanna on their way back to theirneighborhood. The Rivers family had chosen a musical movie theme, too. Theywere Sandy and Danny from Grease. Theirdaughter Cami had wanted to be Frenchie because she wanted to wear the frillypink cotton candy wig, so Caleb and Hanna had gone along with it.

“You are the cutest little Toto I’ve ever seen.” Hannagushed, playing with Sam’s hands. He giggled.

A few seconds later she was the one carrying him. It wascomical to see the clashing of the two movies. Sandy from Grease carrying around little Toto from The Wizard of Oz.

They walked with them for a little bit, the girls runningahead while the adults caught up. After a while, Caleb and Hanna had to run.Cami had a Halloween party she was going to.

Shortly after their friends left, the DiLaurentis-Fieldsfamily were about ready to call it quits. Sam was starting to get increasinglywhiny. And the dog was stopping every two seconds to scratch at the costume onhis back.

“Girls, are you about finished?” Emily asked.

“I was finished the second I put on this costume.” Lilyadmitted.

“Don’t be surly.” Alison scolded her. “Here, take yourbrother.” She handed Sam over to Lily. “Why don’t you go ahead and go home?Grace, you too.”

“Huh?” Grace turned around to face them. She’d been toopreoccupied shoving chocolate in her mouth to hear her mother.

“Come on, Willy Wonka, we’re going home.” Lily laughed.

They started walking ahead.

“You know, Willy Wonka wasn’t the one who ate the chocolate.He just made it.” Grace corrected her sister.

There was a pause, then a “shut up, Grace” before theyturned the corner.

“Man, the attitude on that child.” Alison shook her head indisbelief.

“Where do you think she got it from?” Emily teased her,wrapping her arm around Alison and pulling her close.

Alison turned into her wife’s body so they were facing.

“You ready to call it a night?” Alison questioned, her handrunning down from the small of Emily’s back to her toned ass.

Emily leaned forward and kissed her.

“There’s no place like home.” Emily grinned against herlips.

When they got home they found Lily sitting on the couch withSam. He had conked out on the walk back to the house. He was sleeping soundlyagainst his sister’s shoulder. Grace was sitting next to her singing “Over theRainbow” softly to him.

“Home sweet home.” Alison smiled, looking attheir children.

They stood there watching their little girls with their son. They turned to one another and smiled. The dreams that they had dared to dream really had come true.

[pika-ace]

Digital Rebirth (BMC Digimon AU)

One-shot. After a hard battle, Jeremy is left heartbroken from the tragic casualty of his Digimon partner. But when a mysterious egg appears shortly after Circuitmon’s death, Jeremy and Michael learn that Digimon never really die.

Kind of a sequel to this last one-shot by @janethepegasus (references for Digimon appearances here and here)

“Circuitmon! Where are you?!” 

“Retromon! Answer me, dude!” Jeremy and Michael’s voices were hoarse as they staggered through the smoke-filled street. The remnants of the battle still lingered; Rich and Roostdramon were making sure there were no more enemies, leaving Jeremy and Michael to look for their fallen Digimon. 

The two of them had barely managed to win the battle, but their Digivices had been silent and there was no sign of their Digital pals. Finally, they turned a corner onto another street, where two small figures lay on the asphalt, one red and one blue. 

“Circuitmon!” 

“Retromon!” The boys knelt by their respective Digimon, carefully scooping them into their arms. 

“Hey, Retromon, talk to me, bud!” Michael called gently. The Digimon was unresponsive, but seemed to be breathing; he was probably just exhausted. 

“Circuitmon?!” Michael’s head shot up at Jeremy’s cry. His eyes widened; Circuitmon…was disappearing. His body was slowly dissolving away into pixels, floating into the sky like snowflakes. 

“W-What’s going on?!” Jeremy cried. “Circuitmon, what’s wrong?!” 

“I’m sorry, Jeremy…” The Digimon said weakly. “I…used up all of my energy; I…no longer have the energy to…stay here.” Jeremy’s eyes widened in realization while Michael sucked in a breath. 

“No…” Jeremy whimpered, holding him tighter. “No no no, you can’t, Circuitmon!” He hugged him close, already no longer feeling the bottom half of the Digimon’s body. “You can’t die, Circuitmon, you can’t! You’re one of my best friends!” 

“I…feel the same…Jeremy,” Circuitmon whispered. “Don’t worry…it will be alright…” Jeremy pulled away as Circuitmon was almost completely gone. “Goodbye…Jeremy…” 

“Circuitmon…!” The Digimon completely dissolved, the Digivice’s screen becoming static. “CIRCUITMON!” 

Jeremy curled in on himself and burst into sobs, the pixels disappearing. Michael unconsciously tightened his hold on Retromon, glancing down to make sure he wasn’t disappearing either. Jeremy hugged himself as his wails and cries echoed around them, making Michael’s eyes heat up as well. His vision started to blur with his own tears when he noticed a soft glow coming from Jeremy’s Digivice. 

Jeremy noticed it to, as he lifted his head as a small spotlight came from the static screen. Numbers and code appeared in the light, spinning around one another to slowly form a shape. 

A few moments later, the code seemed to solidify, and an egg hovered in the light of the Digivice. The egg was about half a foot tall and had a dark blue base while lines of light blue streaked around it. 

Jeremy wiped his eyes and slowly reached towards the egg, taking it out of the light while Michael limped over to him, Retromon still in his arms. Jeremy stared at the egg, glancing down at his Digivice, finding that the static had stopped, leaving the screen black. 

Despite the confusion, Jeremy couldn’t help but hug the egg close, and Michael could understand why. It had the same colors as Circuitmon.

The next morning, Michael stood outside Jeremy’s room and took a deep breath. He glanced at Retromon by his side and gently knocked on the door.

“Jeremy?” He called. “It’s uh, it’s Michael and Retromon; can we come in?” There wasn’t an answer; maybe he was asleep. Jeremy hadn’t come to school that day, and according to Mr. Heere, hadn’t left his room, leaving both Michael and Retromon worried. 

Michael quietly opened the door and the duo peeked inside to see that sure enough, Jeremy was curled up on his bed, sound asleep. Michael felt a touch of relief that Jeremy was actually asleep and not staying awake due to grief. If he was, Michael wouldn’t blame him. After what had happened, Michael wouldn’t blame him. 

Michael and Retromon entered and stood over Jeremy, seeing that he was hugging the large blue egg to his chest as he lay on his side. 

Michael smiled sadly at the sight, as well as the drying wet spots on his cheeks. “Hey, Jere,” He gently shook his shoulder. 

Jeremy stirred and his eyes cracked open, “Michael?” He mumbled. 

“Yeah, it’s me; Retromon too,” Michael said softly. “How you doing, bud?” 

Jeremy avoided his eyes, not moving, “Okay,” He said halfheartedly. 

Retromon stepped closer and looked at the egg, “Michael told me about the weird egg from your Digivice,” He said. 

That seemed to catch Jeremy’s attention, “Do you know what it is?” 

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Retromon said. “It’s a Digital egg, a Digiegg; it’s made exactly how we Digimon are made.” 

Jeremy slowly sat up, still holding the egg close. “What does that mean?” 

Retromon shrugged with a smirk, “Eh, you’ll see.”

“Dude, c’mon,” Michael said exasperated. 

“What? Look, it’s hatching right now.” Retromon pointed. Sure enough, cracks were starting to appear in the shell. Jeremy jumped and stood up as the egg shook slightly. The top half of the egg popped off and a little blob emerged. 

“Whoa!” Jeremy dropped the egg shell as the blob jumped right out of the egg and into Jeremy’s hand, two little eyes looking up at him. The little guy fit almost perfectly in Jeremy’s palm. It was dark blue on the bottom half while the top half seemed to be like a glass dome where two little eyes could be seen within. Two little light blue antennae poked out about where a nose would probably be, and Jeremy couldn’t help but notice that the color scheme was almost exactly like Circuitmon’s. 

The Digimon smiled up at him happily, “Pix! Pix pix!” It chirped, bouncing in Jeremy’s hand, making the teen cup his hands to keep the tiny creature from falling.

“Dude…is that a baby Digimon?” Michael asked. “Sure is; that little guy is Pixmon,” Retromon answered with a smirk. “Circuitmon’s first form.” 

Jeremy abruptly looked up at Retromon, his eyes wide with hope, “So…this is…” 

“Yep, that’s Circuitmon; he just got reborn,” Retromon said. 

“But…But how?” Michael asked, running his hands through his hair in disbelief. “It’s a failsafe we Digimon have,” Retromon explained. “If we take too much damage causing us to be deleted, our Digivice has multiple backup packets of our initial data, allowing us to be reborn as our smallest and weakest form.” 

“No way…” Michael breathed. “That’s…that’s such a relief.” 

Jeremy held Pixmon close to his chest, gently stroking the small Digimon, “He’s okay…” He whispered. “I didn’t lose him…he’s okay…” 

Michael smiled as Jeremy’s eyes were bright with life once again. Pixmon cooed and nuzzled up against Jeremy, relishing the warmth he brought. Maybe things really were going to be alright.

That night, Jeremy and Michael decided on ordering pizza, as Jeremy’s dad wasn’t going to be home until late. The two boys and their Digimon sat on the couch, the TV blaring in front of them as they ate pizza, Jeremy feeding smaller chunks to Pixmon who was sitting on his knee. 

Once they were done and Jeremy and Michael went to throw the empty boxes, Pixmon jumped up to the table, where he promptly froze, eyes wide. 

“Pixmon?” Jeremy asked worriedly. 

“Pix pix pix!” The Digimon said, and a bright light surrounded it. Jeremy and Michael covered their eyes, Jeremy’s Digivice vibrating. The light faded and a new Digimon stood in Pixmon’s place. 

The creature was about the size of a small cat, walking on all fours. It was now oval shaped, and the two horns on its face had changed to small horn-like ears while a little nose appeared in its proper place along with a little tail. The creatures eyes were also no longer within the dome and looked up at Jeremy with a smile. 

“You Digivolved,” Jeremy stated dumbly.

“I did,” The Digimon said, its tail wagging slightly as it rested its front paws on Jeremy’s arm. “I’m Nanomon, Circuitmon’s Training form.” 

“Nanomon,” Jeremy repeated, picking up the still small Digimon and cradling it. They were almost there…Circuitmon was almost back.

Nanomon remained the same throughout the rest of the night and through the next morning. It wasn’t until after lunch when Nanomon suddenly froze and was covered by a bright light. Jeremy and Michael shot to their feet as Jeremy’s Digivice began to vibrate and glow.  

“Nanomon, Digivolve to…Circuitmon!” The light faded and Circuitmon stood in Nanomon’s place as good as new. 

Circuitmon looked himself over in satisfaction and turned to his human, “I’ve successfully returned to my-” He was cut off as Jeremy fell to his knees and scooped the small Digimon into a tight hug.

“Circuitmon…” Jeremy whispered, tears coming to his eyes. “You’re back…thank goodness.” 

“I am,” Circuitmon said, confusion on his face. “I assumed Retromon had explained my situation to you.” He received a nod from the other Digimon.

“I missed you,” Jeremy said softly. “I missed you so much.” 

Circuitmon blinked, “You…missed me?” 

Jeremy nodded silently, tears slowly dripping from his closed eyes. “I thought you were dead, I thought I’d lost you!” He cried, his shoulders shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me that you can get reborn?!” 

Circuitmon winced as Jeremy’s hold on him seemed to be getting tighter. “I apologize Jeremy, but the process of rebirth is very rare so I didn’t think there was any need to tell you.” 

“Well, you should’ve!” Jeremy exclaimed, pulling away for a bit to look at Circuitmon with teary eyes. “I watched you die, I actually thought you were gone! I was…” Jeremy trailed off and lowered his head. “I was so scared…” 

Circuitmon’s eyes softened and guilt glinted in them, “I…I’m sorry Jeremy,” He said softly. “I didn’t realize this would cause you so much distress; if I had, I would have told you sooner. I’m truly sorry.” 

Jeremy pulled the Digimon back into a tight hug, “At least you’re back now,” He said softly. “And don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“That is a very vague request, Jeremy,” Circuitmon said. “But…I will try.” He slowly raised his paws to return the hug, and in response, Jeremy hugged him all the tighter. “Jeremy, you’re squishing me,” Circuitmon said through a pained noise. 

“I know, I feel it,” Jeremy said through a wince. 

“Then why aren’t you letting go?” Circuitmon asked. 

“Cause it means you’re back,” Jeremy said, his voice cracking. “I can feel your pain again, it means you’re really back.” 

“Jeremy…” Circuitmon said softly. The Digimon continued to hug his human partner while Michael and Retromon watched in the back with relieved smiles. Things were back to normal.

[hoffkk]

On the third day of Ficmas, hoffkk gave to me...

Three Spanish Cookies (A Cisco x Gypsy fanfic)

*******

When Gypsy breached over to Earth 1 to spend Christmas Eve with Cisco, He was ecstatic.  Since it was not only their first Christmas together but Gypsy's first ever, he was going to make it spectacular.  Cisco had planned out the whole day with tons of holiday activities to show his girlfriend the true spirit of Christmas. It was going to be epic.  That was what he had told himself this morning anyhow. However, given that the day was almost over, and he was currently stabbing Gypsy in the leg with an Epi-Pen, it was clear that today was nothing more than an epic fail.

It all started first thing in the morning when they went to get a Christmas tree.  They needed a real one of course, and Cisco, not wanting to do anything halfway, decided they would go into the woods and chop one down themselves.  It went well enough at first.  They found a perfect tree, and he got to show off his masculine side as he chipped away at the trunk.  Unfortunately, Cisco miscalculated which way it would fall and kind of squashed Gypsy. The tree got her legs, knocking her face first into the snow as she was admiring the woodsy winter scene around her.  Gypsy wasn't happy, but she wasn't hurt either.  She only received a few scratches.

Later on, when they brought they tree home came incident number two.  They had just finished decorating the tree with colorful lights and ornaments, and Cisco insisted she do the honors of plugging in the lights. There were a few other things plugged into the outlet already, including a lamp, laptop, candle warmer, and a few other tech gadgets he had been experimenting with.  It didn't occur to Cisco that it may be too much until Gypsy placated him a inserted the plug into the power strip.  There was a surge of electricity and suddenly the apartment went dark.  "Don't worry, I got this."  He had told her before dashing into the other room to flip the breaker.  Gypsy, not the type of woman to wait around on a man to fix things, began fidgeting with the plug.  She pulled it out and tried again just as Cisco turned the power back on. Suddenly, Gypsy felt a jolt shock her fingertips and rush through her body.  She shrieked in pain and Cisco flew back into the room to assess the situation.  He found his girlfriend shaking out her right hand in pain.

"What happened?" Cisco asked worriedly, quickly checking around the room for any unwanted metahumans.

"Your tree tried to turn me into the flash!" She spat, clutching her hand tightly.

"Let me see." He requested as he reached for his girlfriend's hand.  There was a small red mark on her thumb, but it looked benign.  "You want some ice?"  Cisco asked as he stroked her hand delicately with his thumbs.

"Nah, I think I'm all right." She answered.

Stepping closer, he smiled, quirked a brow then replied, "How about some snow?"

The next thing she knew, they were all bundled up and standing on top of a hill at a nearby park with a toboggan.

"I'm  of the king of the world!" Cisco yelled off into the cold midday air as he extended his arms upward and outward.

"Really? You're quoting Titanic?"  Gypsy queried, tone full of sass.

"You know Titanic?"  Cisco asked, surprised that she obviously did.  It was hard to keep up on the similarities and differences between Earth 1 and Earth 19.  He needed a massive Venn Diagram to keep track of it all.

"Yeah, it was only the worst three hours of my life."  She replied.

Cisco placed a hand over his heart like he had just been shot there and retorted, "Take that back! Titanic is a cinematic master piece and you know it!"

"They killed Leo!" She fired back.  "Which was total bull because they both could have fit on that door and you know it."

He opened his mouth to argue but after a moment of consideration he instead nodded and said, "Touché."  Gypsy nodded, accepting her small win, and then Cisco continued as he rubbed his hands together excitedly, "So, enough about going down on a ship.  It's time to go down on a sled!"

Gypsy cocked her head to the side and opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything Cisco quickly held up a hand and said, "Heard it as soon as I said it.  I promise that is not what's happening right now. You see how sledding works is--"

"Cisco?" She interrupted.

"Yeah?"  He asked curiously.

"We may not have Christmas on 19 but we still have snow... and sleds."  Gypsy informed him.

"Right."  He said, feeling incredibly stupid. "Of course you do." Cisco cleared his throat, collected himself, and then called out, "Shotgun!"

Gypsy rolled her eyes and smiled as he tossed the sled down on the ground and took his seat up front. She followed his lead and got on behind, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso.

"Ready?  1... 2... "  Cisco pushed off on a silent three and away they went.

The hill was pretty steep so they picked up a lot of speed on the way down, going faster and faster until suddenly they were weightless.  There was a loud screech, and then they landed back on the ground with a thud! At least Cisco did. Gypsy fell off midair and landed in the snow on her side, rolling over a few times until the fresh powder slowed her body to a stop.  The snow wasn't very thick so when her knee made impact with the frozen ground it began to throb.  "Ow." She called out in pain.  "That's definitely gonna leave abruise."  She added more quietly.

"Gypsy?  Are you all right?"  Cisco yelled, voice full of concern as he got up and ran over to his girlfriend's aide.

Kneeling beside her, he helped her sit up.  Once gypsy was upright, she responded, "You could have warned me there was a ramp."

"I didn't know. Everything's covered in snow and all one big frozen blob." He defended, then helped her stand up.  When he saw her wince, he asked again, "Are you hurt?"

"I'll manage." She answered vaguely.  "Trust me, I've been through much worse on the job."  Acting tough, she pushed through the pain and walked toward the sled.  After a couple steps, Gypsy's knee gave in and she fell back down onto her hands and knees.

"You okay, baby?" He inquired whimsically, the unmistakable sound of laughter cutting between his words.

"Oh, you think that's funny do you?"  She tossed over her shoulder.  Shifting into a squatting position, Gypsy didn't wait for a response before grabbing a chunk of snow, rounding it, and firing at Cisco.

Cisco's mouth popped open in surprise as he was beamed right in the chest with a snowball.  "So, that's how you want to play it?"  He asked her challengingly.  When Gypsy responded with a snowball to the gut, he yelled again, "Oh, it is on!"

As he dodged her next throw, he scooped up some snow and tossed back one of his own. Gypsy ducked, letting the ball of snow fly right past her and returned the gesture.  They were bobbing and weaving and laughing so hard that gypsy forgot all about the pain in her knee.  The battle raged on for a good five minutes until Cisco caught his girlfriend off guard with a snowball to the face.  Normally, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but, when he scooped the snowball, he got a chunk of ice too.  Of course, the ice was the part that hit Gypsy directly on the forehead, nearly knocking her off her feet... again.

"Son of a snowman!" She spat, rubbing the tender spot above her right eye.

"Ooh..." Cisco uttered with a wince.  "My bad." He added apologetically as he ran over to check on her.

"Dios mio, that hurts." She whined.

"I am so sorry, Gyps." He told her.  "Are you bleeding?"

"It's nothing." She assured him as he dabbed away a bit of blood on her forehead with her black glove.

"I really wanted to show you another Christmas tradition while we were out, but maybe we should just go home."  He offered.

Part of Gypsy wanted to take him up on that offer, but one look at his face said she couldn't.  He looked so upset with those big puppy dog eyes, and she remembered how excited he was to show her all things Christmas. And so, with small sigh she said, "No, that's okay.  It's really not as bad as it looks."

"You sure?" Cisco quirked a brow uncertainly.

Gypsy nodded her head and said, "Yeah.  Now come on... show me more Christmas."

Cisco's frown immediately turned upside down at her words, and he held out his elbow.  Gypsy rolled her eyes and smiled before taking his arm, then the two of the them went to retrieve their toboggan and strolled onward to the next activity.

*******

"Fa-la-la-la-laaaa! La-la-la-LA!" Cisco wailed the final notes of his favorite Christmas song.

Gypsy smirked at his energy and excitement.  He was clearly having a ball.  Her? Not so much.  Caroling was kind of fun at first, but, when you don't know any of the words, it gets old real fast.

"Isn't this great?" He questioned as they followed the group down the street to their next location.

"Yeah, sure." She smiled lamely.

Sensing her insincerity, Cisco said, "You're not having fun are you?"

"No, I am.  It's just..." Gypsy trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"You don't any of the songs, which makes caroling a bit difficult."  He finished for her.  "Man, I'm an idiot."

"No, you're sweet."  She assured him.

"Hey, I got it." He said suddenly.  "We'll just sing a song you do know."

"Like what?" Gypsy wondered aloud.  Obviously, she didn't know any Christmas songs, so she wasn't sure where he was going with this.

Instead of answering normally, Cisco burst into song on the spot, belting out a tune she was, in fact, very familiar with.

"NEAR!  FAR! WHEREVER YOU ARRRRRE! I BELIEVE THAT.... THE HEART DOES... GO ON."

"Oh my god. Stop." Gypsy tried as she swatted his arm and stifled her laughter.  People were staring, and he was butchering the song.

Cisco didn't care one bit, he just kept on singing, "ONCE... MORE..."

Shaking her head, she sighed and thought to herself, "If you can't beat em'..."

Before Gypsy could talk herself out of it she joined in loudly, "YOU OOOOOPEN THE DOOR!"

Grinning from ear to ear, Cisco felt his love for this woman growing stronger with every off-key note as they yelled out into the cold evening air, "AND YOU'RE HEAR IN MY HEART AND... MY HEART WILL GO ON AAAAAND OOO- WHOA!"

As they hit the last note, Gypsy stepped on a patch of ice, and, like a cartoon character on a banana peel, she went down hard, landing right on her tailbone.

"Ouch." Cisco mumbled at the same time Gypsy grumbled, "Son of a snowman..."

Grabbing her by the hands, he helped his girlfriend up slowly and said, "Are you---"

"Don't." She cut him off tersely.  She wasn't trying to be mean, but she was in pain and had heard that question too many times today.  "Just don't."

"I'm guessing it's time to head home now?" Cisco asked knowingly.

"You guessed right." Gypsy retorted brusquely.

"All right-y then." He said, slightly scared of his girlfriend.

Putting his arm around her, they shuffled little by little down the sidewalk back the way they had come. Seeing Jitters across the street, Cisco began to ask, "Hey, Jitters is still open, maybe we--"

Gypsy instantly stopped in her tracks and threw him a death glare, causing him to finish his thought with a quick, "nevermind." then they both continued on their way to the warmth of Cisco's apartment.

*******

A short while later, they arrived at Cisco's place.  He helped Gypsy to the couch then started the fire.  It wasn't a real fire.  It was an animated one on Netflix, accompanied by instrumental Christmas music. Naturally, it wouldn't keep you warm, but it was still festive.  Once the fire was ready, Cisco cranked up the heat and began boiling water for cocoa.

Meanwhile, Gypsy propped her sore legs gently on top of the ottoman in front of her and covered herself with the blanket that had been sitting on the back of the couch.  As she nestled into the couch and enjoyed the fire, she heard Cisco messing around in the kitchen.  A few minutes later, Cisco sat down next to her with a cup of hot chocolate in each hand.

"Here you, go." he said, handing her one of the mugs.

As the warmth penetrated her palms, Gypsy took a whiff of the chocolatey goodness, admiring the added touches of marshmallows and a peppermint stick.

"Fancy." She said with a smile. "Thank you."

"A happy face and manners... does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"  He asked only half-jokingly.

"I was never mad at you, Cisco."  Gypsy corrected.  "I just don't tolerate pain well."

"No kidding." He teased.

"Hey!" She feigned offense, plucking a marshmallow out of her drink and tossing it at his forehead.

The marshmallow, half-melted from the hot drink, stuck to his head, so Cisco simply pulled it off and popped it into his mouth.  Gypsy shook her head and hid a smile with a sip of cocoa.  Cisco followed suit, letting the conversation linger a moment.

"Mmmm.... delicious."  Gypsy complimented.

"It's a family recipe."  He explained. "Great for parties and curing even the worst of moods."

"I will admit, it does make me feel a little better."  She relented.

"Well, I think I have just the thing to get you all the way there."  He smiled cheekily, then pulled a clump of green leaves from behind him.  They all gathered at one stem that wore a red and gold bow.

"What is it?" Gypsy questioned with a confused look on her face.

"Mistletoe." Cisco informed her.  "People hang this little guy in doorways at Christmas time, and when two people are caught under it, they have to share a kiss."

"Oh, they do, do they?"  She queried, knowing exactly where he was going with this little holiday lesson.

"Yup."  He nodded then held the plant up over their heads. "Oh my, would you look at that? We're under the mistletoe."

"That we are.  I suppose now we have to kiss."  She mocked.

"Rules are rules." Cisco said with a shrug.

They stared at each other for a brief moment with teasing grins on their faces before leaning in for a kiss.  Pulling back after a second, they decided to kiss again.  And again.  Soon, they were in full on make out mode with arms wrapping around each other, hers around his neck and his around her back.  Eventually, his hands roamed upward, and he began running his fingers through her hair.  Gypsy moaned at the sensation it gave her, which was extra enjoyable with the mistletoe leaves that he was still holding tickling her neck at the same time.  They were getting really hot and heavy when she suddenly pulled away and let out a light cough.  Without much thought, she resumed kissing her boyfriend... until a moment later when she coughed again.  Soon, Gypsy was hacking up a storm.

"You need some water?" Cisco asked worriedly.

"Cisco..." She wheezed.  "I... can't... breathe..."

His eyes went wide as he processed her words and then noticed her throat getting blotchy and swollen.

"Hang on, Gypsy." He told her as he dashed out of the room and down the hall.  Seconds later, he returned to find his girlfriend now gasping for air.  Hastily, he ripped off her blanket and jammed the Epi-Pen he now wielded into her upper leg.

Sitting down next to Gypsy, he pushed some hair out of her face and stroked her cheeks.  It took a moment, but her breathing appeared to slow down.  Breathing a sigh of relief, he took her into his arms, a gesture she welcomed, and whispered some soothing words in her ear.  Once her breathing normalized, and she was able to actually speak coherently, Gypsy inquired, "What just happened?"

"You must've had a bad reaction to something."  He told her.  "I used my Epi-Pen on you, you should be okay now." When she gave him a curious look, Cisco added, "I have a shellfish allergy."

Nodding in understanding, she became confused once more, "I don't have any allergies though, at least none I'm aware of."

"Maybe it was the hot chocolate?  Though, that's just water, chocolate, marshmallows, and peppermint.  I can't imagine any of that did it."

"Yeah, I've eaten all those before and was just fine."  She noted.  "So, if not the cocoa then what?"

"Well, the only other thing that touched you was me, but you usually react to that in other ways."  Cisco teased with the wag of his brow.

"The mistletoe." It suddenly occurred to her. "It tickled my neck right before I started coughing."

They immediately scanned the surrounding area for the plant.  Cisco found it on the floor, immediately picked it up, and ran to the kitchen. Gypsy was going to ask what the heck he was doing when she heard the sink run and the garbage disposal turn on.

Not long after, the sink went silent and Cisco called over, "Hey, Gyps, do you--

"NO!" She cut off and yelled across the room.  "No more Christmas! I'm done!  I've been beaten and electrocuted and nearly killed by Christmas.  I know you love it, and I love you... but I'm done!"

"I was just gonna ask if you wanted a snack?"  He said simply.

"Oh."  She replied, feeling quite embarrassed about her outburst.

Walking back over to the couch, he went on, "I get it.  This whole day has been an epic fail, and it's all my fault.  I was so excited to show you may favorite holiday that I got carried away and forced you to do too many things."  Sitting down with a plate in hand, he added remorsefully, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Cisco, I..." Gypsy stopped midsentence as she looked at the plate in his hands.  There were three, large, very familiar looking cookies, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar.  "Are those mantecados?" She asked softly.

"Yeah... another family recipe I borrowed."  Cisco answered.

Gypsy didn't say anything for a moment as a tear slid down her cheek.

His eyes went wide in alarm as he babbled, "Oh, Oh no.  What is it? Do you hate them?  Or are you allergic to these too?  Is it the cinnamon?  Wait, you don't have allergies... well, except for mistletoe apparently but--"

"Cisco, relax, it's okay."  She told him as she wiped her tear aside.  "These cookies are my favorite."

"Oh, then why are you crying?"  He wondered aloud.

"My abuela used to make these every year on my birthday.  She died five years ago.  I haven't eat them since."

"Great." Cisco said exasperatedly. "First, I nearly kill you with Christmas, then I remind you of your dead relative.  That's just great.  This holiday just keeps getting better and better."  He added with heavy sarcasm.

"No, it's okay. These are happy tears."  She assured him.

"Really?"  He asked disbelievingly.

Gypsy nodded, grabbed a cookie and took a bite.  As the cookie melted in her mouth, she moaned it delight and said, "I forgot how good these were."  Looking to her boyfriend, she grabbed his hand with her free one and said, "Thank you, Cisco.  This was the best Christmas present ever."

He simply smiled and said, "Merry Christmas, Gypsy."

Grabbing a cookie of his own, he put his free arm around Gypsy and leaned back on the couch, letting his feet share the ottoman with hers.  The two of them proceeded to snuggle and eat cookies in front of the 'fire' as they listened to the soothing sounds of Christmas.

After a few minutes the cookies were nearly gone and Gypsy whispered, "This is nice."

"Yeah, it is." Cisco agreed.

"Next Christmas, let's start with this." She told him.

"Definitely." He beamed, placing a soft kiss on her lips then returned his chin to its resting spot on top of her head.

They laid just like that for the rest of the night, nestled together and enjoying the warmth of each other's embrace.  The entire time, Cisco appeared completely calm... on the outside.  But on the inside?  He was doing the Christmas can-can just thinking about the possibility of being with Gypsy for a whole year and a whole other Christmas.

Yeah, this holiday started off as good as the Titanic ended... but it ended better than he ever could have hoped for.

[scribblles]

Mutual Pining

IchiHime Week 2017

Word count: 1605

Rating: T

Ichigo was staring at her hair. Orihime’s back was to him as she animatedly told Tatsuki and Chad about a customer that had come in to the bakery asking for a large order of her newest creation: mint and lamb filled steam buns. Her boss had told her she was crazy, but lamb was served with mint all time so why not put it in a pastry? She was sure this was the beginning of her great bakery empire, and she would be sure and remember her friends from her lofty position Queen Baker of the Land of the Rising Sun. Her hair was swishing and trembling as excitedly as the rest of her body. She swept back some her hair over her shoulder, and Ichigo seemed to lean in closer and close his eyes a little. Suddenly, she whipped around to say something to him, and with his battle-honed reflexes, Ichigo straightened and listened to her with calm and cool collection, answering her with only the tiniest of stutters and the slightest blush that could be mistaken for the heat of the day. Renji snorted and rolled his eyes. And as if sensing his disdain, Ichigo turned and glared suspiciously. Renji crossed his arms and glared right back. The human was an idiot. Didn’t he see how much bullshit he and Rukia had to go through because he didn’t have the guts to be honest with her? Waiting for the right timing and accomplishments and her brother’s approval and blah blah blah. What did any of that matter? Renji uncrossed his arms, and reached for his fiance’s hand under the table. She didn’t even blink as she continued to calmly sip her tea, but he grinned at the red creeping up the back of her neck and the way her fingers curled around his as his thumb gently stroked the back of her hand . Yep, Ichigo was an idiot. Of course, he was one to be talking, but he didn’t have an example of almost unrealized love right in front of his face like Ichigo did. There was no excuse for this – “Oh for pity’s sake,” Renji grumbled, as Orihime turned back and Ichigo went back to mooning over the back of her head like a sick puppy. “Hm?” said Rukia. “Your protégé is an idiot.” “Hm, only an idiot if it takes him decades and decades and decades to be honest,” she said. Renji cleared his throat and shifted at the steel hiding behind her velvet tone. “Right, well, I – he – he’s got me as a bad example, right? Right in front of him! But he’s been swooning for years now! He’s the savior of the world and legal and still hasn’t had a girlfriend.” “Kurosaki-kun has a girlfriend?” Orihime asked cheerily. Rukia squeezed Renji’s hand so hard he whimpered, and Tatsuki and Chad looked at each other in mutual exasperation. Only Ichigo, whose face dropped with disappointment, didn’t notice that her happy tone was a little too high and like she’d forced her very generous happiness for him through a very tiny needle eye. “N-No! I don’t…have a girlfriend, I…No, definitely don’t have one.” Ichigo was blushing hard and staring daggers at Renji. “What the hell are you two talking about over there?” Renji rolled his eyes as he shook out his hand. “I said, you can save the world, but your pathetic ass has the reached the legal human and age and you still haven’t had a girlfriend.” He looped his arm around Rukia’s stiff shoulders. “What’s the good of all that if you ain’t got a girl?” Orihime glanced between the two of them as Ichigo stewed and tried to think up an appropriate response. “Kurosaki-kun, he’s kind of right, you know.” Ichigo gaped at her, betrayed. “I mean!” she remedied, waving her hands. “You’re so busy and stressed with school, you should have…someone to relax with and have fun!” All the hearts around her cracked a little at her earnestness, except Ichigo’s heart that was cracking for himself. “Well, I…I don’t really – Hey!” he nearly shouted, startling her. “What about you? When’s the last time you had a boyfriend?” “Boyfriend?” she asked, pointing to her own chest. “Um…well, I’ve been busy with the bakery and…stuff…no time for boys, eh heh heh heh.” Rukia narrowed her eyes at the two. “Orihime, didn’t you go on that date a couple of weeks ago with a boy?” Orihime blinked at her, the blush at the apples of her cheeks beginning to spread. “Um, well…yes.” Ichigo’s face paled as his adam’s apple bobbed. Tatsuki nodded. “You guys are meeting again right?” Orihime dug her thumbnail into the edge of the table. “Well…yes.” Ichigo continued to stare at her, strain showing around his eyes. “What’s he like?” Rukia prodded. Renji turned to stare at her, but she elbowed him. “Well…nice” she said. The pale, carrot-topped statue next to her crossed its arms. “Well, why don’t you introduce us?” “What?!” she stared up at him with huge eyes. “Introduce you?” He grunted. “We’re your friends. We should check this guy out.” “I already ‘checked him out,’ Ichigo,” Tatuski said with air quotes. “He’s really nice.” “So, we’ve established he’s nice,” he glowered. “Any other qualities, or is he just a blob of nice?” Orihime frowned a little. “Kurosaki-kun, I appreciate you looking out for me, but–” “He’s hot,” Tatsuki stated. “Tatsuki-chan!” Orihime hissed. Her best friend shrugged and mouthed “what?” Rukia chuckled into her tea as Ichigo looked as if he was torn between throwing this guy into the river or curling into a ball of misery. “So,” he said when he found his voice. “He’s a…hot blob of nice.” Orihime choked. “Doesn’t mean he’s good enough for her.” Orihime stopped fidgeting and straightened her spine a little, her voice soft and calm as she said, “Thank you for concern, Kurosaki-kun, but I consider myself an excellent judge of character through my highly developed female intuition. If we…get more serious, I’ll introduce you.” With that, she stood, calm and smiling, but with a little something off kilter about her expression and stance. “I’m sorry, I have to get up early in the morning. See you soon.” She smiled broadly at the Renji and Rukia, the subject of their little gathering. “Congratulations again, Rukia, Abarai-kun.” They both nodded as Ichigo stared unseeingly at his beer. When she left amongst the chorus of goodbyes, Ichigo grabbed his glass and chugged until only bits of foam clung to the sides. “More serious,” Ichigo grumped. “What the hell does that mean, more serious? More serious than what?” He paused, his glassy eyes growing a bit large under his scowl. “Does that mean they already are serious? You can’t be more serious unless you’re already some serious, right?” He cursed into his empty glass. Renji and Rukia looked at each other and then simultaneously raised their fingers for more beer. “Aren’t you two just too adorable,” Ichigo said acidly. Renji and Rukia looked at each other and then simultaneously whirled their fingers in circles to keep them coming, ignoring the exaggerated gagging noises across the table.

.

. After several minutes of watching Ichigo and his team practice for their next tournament, Orihime broke the blessed silence. “Tatsuki-chan,” she sighed. “Hm?” “Have you ever noticed?” “Noticed what?” “The way Kurosaki-kun’s hair changes to the same colors as the sky as the sun sets.” With a long, low grown, Tatsuki lowered her head to the soccer ball in her lap and stayed there. “Something wrong, Tatsuki-chan?” Her forehead still touching the ball, Tatsuki turned to look up Orihime’s concerned face. “How it’s going with the hot blob of nice?” Orihime started. “Huh? Oh, well, he…we decided not to see each other anymore.” “Oh?” asked Tatsuki, completely unsurprised. “What happened?” “Nothing, nothing. Just…the usual – oh! Did you see the pass Kurosaki-kun made? He’s getting much better about passing and not trying to win the whole game himself, don’t you think?” “Orihime,” she said, lifting her head finally. “What?” “What happened?” “Well he started to go for the goal himself, but then saw one of his teammates wide open and–“ “For the love of – no! I mean with the nice blob.” “Oh…you shouldn’t call him that,” Orihime said, managing to frown at her disapprovingly with her eyes still on the sweaty players. “Well, I can’t remember his name. What was it?” “It’s, um…aren’t name’s funny though? We should all refer to each other as poignant descriptions rather than names. Like Ishida-kun could be he-who-glints-his-eyeglasses-for-dramatic-effect and – “ “Oh my god, you can’t remember his name?” Orihime sputtered and glanced at her sideways. “What? That’s silly. We dated for…well for a bit. Why would I forget his name? I just think hot blob of nice is…a nicer name?” “So, what happened?” Tatsuki tried again. “You talk to nameless one too much about he-whose-hair-reflects-sunsets?” Orihime sniffed and twisted the fabric of her skirt around her fingers. “Oh my god.” “Well, I don’t think I talked about him that much. Honestly…male egos, you know? ” “Uh-huh.” “Anyway,” Orihime said, her attention back on the practice field as the college boys strode back to the side, shaking hands and clapping backs. “It was fun while it last – oh.” Orihime’s mouth remained stuck as a perfect ‘o’ as the stripping Ichigo pulled his shirt off the rest of the way. Sweat glistened off his naked torso that looked quite fetching in the low evening light, even to Tatsuki. She turned to her friend, who had leaned forward, her mouth still open. “Hey Orihime? You should probably breathe.”

.

.

[scribbling-stiks]

Retrievers - XX - Stress

Russia blinks slowly and bites back a groan. His back aches and his arms and legs shake subtly. He tries to ignore the pounding headache and buries his head into the pillows to hide from the sunlight coming through the windows.

The air smells kind of stale, though Russia couldn't actually get much air to go through his nose anyway.

"Russ?" America asks.

Russia groans into the pillow.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't feel well," Russia mumbles, his voice falling under the ringing.

America hums, and Russia feels a hand brush his forehead.

"You have a fever," America comments.

Russia hums and turns away, shivering. He nuzzles his face into the blankets, ignoring the hot and cold rushes that wrack his body. He closes his eyes as America brushes his hair away.

'That feels nice.'

"You look pretty pale too," America comments, "are you cold?"

Russia offers a jerky nod, hugging his torso. His clothes are damp from sweat, but he still finds himself searching for extra warmth in the duvet.

"What's going on?" New York asks.

"Russia's sick," America replies bluntly, running his fingers through Russia's hair.

"Are we still going back to investigate?" New Jersey asks, "I thought we planned to do it today."

"We have to," Georgia says reluctantly, "we can't go home 'til we do."

"Yeah, and we can't be risking missing anything right now," Texas agrees.

"I wonder if we'll be able to find anything for Cali or Tuck to use," New Mexico ponders.

"I am going with you," Russia mumbles, trying to sit up.

As soon as he pushes himself upright, the world spins. He feels like he's floating and his vision doubles. His stomach churns, and his sense of balance disappears completely. Blood rushes through his ears and he sways violently to the side.

Suddenly, he stops moving. Confused, he looks down and sees America struggling to hold him upright, a worried look on his face.

"You are not going anywhere," Finland says, crossing her arms.

"But-" Russia tries.

"No," Georgia says, "you can't even sit up straight. You ain't getting outa that bed."

"I-"

"Russia, I'm not letting you in the car," Pennsylvania says, "I don't want you to die."

Russia shakes his head and gingerly pulls off of America. He shuffles to the side of the bed, trying to ignore how dizzy the motion makes him feel. As he tries to push himself onto his feet, he realizes that his arms are shaking too hard to support his weight, and his legs tremble violently underneath him. He sits back and hunches over, hugging his stomach.

"You're finna fall over and probably pass out if you try to get up," Georgia comments, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"But I have to help protect you," Russia argues, his voice too low for him to hear.

Georgia's face softens dramatically.

"You don't have to do that," Georgia says gently.

"But I-"

"You can't," America says, gently pulling Russia back, "not like this. You can't even stand."

Russia leans back, swallowing the shame of defeat. He gasps past the sickness in his chest, and he feels his torso shaking with his heartbeat. The ceiling spins violently, and America's face pops up above him. Russia tries to focus on him but finds that he can't.

"Why are there so many of you?" Russia mumbles, trying to keep his eyes open.

After a moment, the roaring in his ears slowly fades, and he listens to the conversation around him.

"Dad, you should really stay here too," Pennsylvania says.

"I don't-"

"I know you don't want us going by ourselves, and we aren't. Finland is coming with us. And we aren't little kids," Texas states.

"Besides, you still have a broken leg and broken ribs," Finland says, "and we can't leave Russia alone like this,"

America sighs.

"Are you okay to go, Peaches?" America asks.

"Yeah, I'm good," Georgia replies, "I'm tired and kinda sore, but I'll be fine."

Russia finds his eyes closing against his wishes, and he drifts off to sleep to greet the nightmares waiting for him.

He opens his eyes and finds himself in a large birdcage. He swings in the air and screams of pain and terror surround him. It smells like stale blood and piss. The area is bathed in a dark red hue, and shadows conceal whatever is beneath him.

"YOU MUST CHANNEL IT!" A voice screeches from above.

The air feels like it's full of static electricity.

Russia covers his ears at the volume, and the cage begins to drop. It falls like a broken elevator, and Russia screams, clutching onto the bars.

Down.

Down.

Down.

He finds himself stuck to the top of the cage as he falls faster and faster. He falls through the shadowy fog to see an ocean of black water. The waves crash against each other angrily, fighting to reach him.

The cage crashes into the depths and the water drags Russia underneath the waves. The bars of the cage pull him further as the water tugs at his feet.

He can't breathe.

"I will find your secrets," a female voice purred from beside him.

The world swirls, and suddenly, he's strapped down to an autopsy table. A faceless figure hovers above him, its featureless face rips open into a smirk. The creature's teeth are sharp and covered in blood. It leans over beside him, and Russia strains his eyes, trying to watch it.

"Let's see how much you can take," the thing whispers.

He's blinded by a piercing pain in his stomach. He looks down to find the eyeless thing smiling at him, his intestines in its mouth. Thousands of people cackle above him.

Russia jolts awake with a scream. He hunches over and his head spins. His breathing comes in pained gasps as he clutches his stomach, trying to find any damage.

"Woah!"

Russia flinches away at the voice, half expecting it to be another faceless creature. A gentle hand rubs his back. He gasps and looks at his hands, expecting blood. His vision blurs, and his hands become two blurry blobs of color. Russia covers his face, trying in vain to stop the tremors.

"Hey, you're okay," someone promises from behind him.

Russia head swims, and the words get scrambled. He mumbles something he didn't understand and falls toward the voice. Russia lands on something cool, and he squints his eyes. The room had taken on a blurry light blue glow.

'Meri?' his mind mutters through the cotton and water filling it.

"It's okay, It was just a nightmare," America soothes, cradling Russia's head and stroking his hair, "it's okay."

Russia's aching limbs shake and tears trail down his face. Suppressed cries shake his entire torso, and he curls up onto America, his hands rattling against his chest. He bites his tongue and squints his eyes shut. Fear clenches his throat closed, and he wheezes past it.

"It's okay to cry, Rue. I'm here. It's okay."

His chest convulsed as sobs force themselves up his vocal cords. Exhaustion shakes him, and he grabs onto America's shirt desperately. He clutches onto the fabric, too tired to do anything else.

America cradles his head with one hand and begins tenderly wiping the tears away. Russia's heart pounds in his chest, and his stomach cramps and knots up. His head feels like it's about to explode.

"Please," Russia whines.

"Please what?" America asks patiently.

"Please...."

"Darlin', I can't help you if I don't know what you want."

Russia trembles and he tightens his cramping hands.

'I can't let go. I can't let go. I can't.'

"I'm not going anywhere," America promises.

Russia's head lulls forward, and America steadies it.

"It's okay. Everything is okay."

"Are the states okay?" Russia gasps.

"Yes, they are. Finland called a few minutes ago. They are collecting things to bring back to Cali at the house."

Russia sighs in relief. His eyes shut, and he forces them back open in a panic.

"You're really warm," America comments, "do you want any meds?"

Russia shakes his head forcefully. The knots in his stomach tighten at the thought of eating or drinking anything. Russia whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut and hunching over. Bile creeps up the back of his throat.

He begins coughing, and America sits him up. Russia gags and America hands him a bag and helps him hold it steady.

"Oh, Rue...." America coos sadly as Russia wretches.

America brushes Russia's sweaty hair off his forehead. Russia expels what's left in his stomach. It burns his mouth and forces its way into his nose. The tears come back full force, and he starts to sway.

"Babe, you can't lie down until you're done," America says gently, using one of his hands to steady Russia.

Russia heaves and spits what's left in his mouth. His nose burns.

"Are you done?" America asks.

Russia nods weakly.

America hands him some napkins.

"Here. Blow your nose and wipe off your face, okay?"

Russia nods. He blows his nose, and the burning sensation spikes before it starts to fade. He sniffles and flinches at the taste of acid coating the back of his throat. He hands the napkins back to America's open hand, and America gets up.

Russia crumples onto the crinkled blankets and watches passively as America limps around, knocking the trash can around a few times before managing to throw the bag and the napkins inside. He ties the second bag shut before disappearing into the bathroom.

Russia closes his eyes, listening to the sink running. Then, the room is quiet.

"Russ, are you still awake?" America asks, shaking his shoulder.

Russia opens his eyes and sees a blurry America standing in front of him, a water bottle in his hand.

"Come on," America says tenderly, helping Russia sit up against the headboard, "just a few sips. It'll help with the taste."

Russia complies, but he can't keep his eyes open.

He hears America walk around the room a little more before he feels the bed dip. He opens an eye and sees America making himself comfortable. America smiles lovingly and pulls Russia into a hug. Russia leans into the motion.

"I got you," America promises, "it's okay."

America continues to say things in a comforting tone, but Russia finds that he doesn't understand any of the words.

'He's here. I'm safe.'

His breathing finally slows down, and he feels America's fingers running through his hair and rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades. He tries to lift his hands, only for them to drop.

"You don't have to move Rue-Rue. It's okay," America soothes.

Russia shivers and America holds him steady.

'It's okay. It's okay,' his mind repeats gently.

Russia lets his body relax.

~

Next

Previous

Table of Contents

[rdmahfoud-blog]

Tricky Trickster Tricked

For Mike it had always been easy, a quick flick of the wrist, a stealthy sleight of the hand and wallets, watches, glasses, rings and any article that could be sold for any kind of money would slide straight into his skilled hands. Others called it luck, he prefered to call it a “blessing”.

From what or whom? Mike didn't have the slightest idea, or so he said.

He leaned against the wall on the corner of a street packed with tourists, an amorphous sea of white and red all craving consumers that hopped off luxurious cruise on the docks. Coffee and a cigarette was his oral hygiene routine for every morning, “Keeps away the street preachers”, he would often say.

He wasn’t a local, he considered himself to be one, but after twenty years living in the island who wouldn’t consider himself to be a local? His skin wasn’t as pale as the tourist’s but compared to the brownish tanned locals he looked like a cotton ball. A thin black moustache seemed to be suspended over his almost non existing lips, he combed it with his finger every now and then.

The thin line of smoke floated upwards unbothered, the ocean breeze seemed to have gone elsewhere that morning. He took a drag, then a sip of coffee, he let the smoke out with a sigh. There was something about these people that made him literally sick, he felt the urge to spit away his coffee. He put the cigarette out against the wall.

“Let’s get to work”, he whispered to his hands. His eyes glistened with the spark of whom is about to experience something amazing, an spectacle.

Mike took a another sip of his coffee and gracefully swam across the sea of people. He liked to stalk on his preys for a little while before pouncing on their belongings. He squinted his wrinkled eyes to have a better look, the sun was always scorching in this part of the island. He moved under a coffee shop’s canopy, the shadow was cool and he got a good view of the whole street.

His hands twitched nervously inside the pockets of his jacket, it was as if they craved to come out. They scratched against the fabric as trapped spiders, he struggled to keep them in.

“Patience”, he thought to himself.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he whistled as air came out of his mouth.

For a long moment there was only pitch black darkness on his mind. Then it happened, “the magic” as he called it. Dim glowing orbs moved in front of his darkened vision, the glow intensified as long as he kept his eyes shut. After half a minute the formless glow took shapes, the shape of a watch, shape of a wallet, shape of a recently bought expensive souvenir, shapes of possible preys floated all around him. He opened his eyes and the glow stayed in his vision,  if you could have seen through Mike’s eyes, it was a marvelous sight.

Rainbow colored strokes swirled around and through the crowd, imagine giant strokes of multicolored aquarella floating gracefully in the air.  The ray’s of the sun dimmed to a more tolerable level. “Exquisite”, was Mike’s description of it.

“Ok girls, your turn!”, Mike said and pulled his hands out of the jacket.

He took a step into the street and everything around him slowed it’s movement in a dramatical way. It was like watching a movie in slow motion.

An old european guy passed him by, his right hand swiftly slid in his glowing right pocket and took his cellphone, not even a second passed between the moment his hand sprinted out and when it was putting the phone it away in the safety of Mike’s jacket. In the blink of an eye his left hand was picking a couple american dollars out of a woman’s purse, then from her husband the wallet.

Next to them a Korean couple would miss their professional camera terribly. The same would happen with the hipster chick that had just lent him her phone indefinitely. His fingers moved faster and faster, sometimes they’d take strange angles, non human movements.

For Mike it felt like reaching nirvana, a higher state of mind, communion with his unconscious mind. But no one could witness his face for  he moved too fast for the human eye, you’d merely feel a gentle breeze or quick but almost not perceivable pull on your pants. He would collect enough to fill his pockets and then put it all in a trash can he bought himself, just to start all over again, until sundown.

When he dumped his last batch of stolen goods in the trash can he did a quick calculation, he had at least three thousand dollars in cash, gadgets and jewelry. Mike couldn't hide the wide grin on his face. It had been a really generous day. He kissed both of his hands and started putting things inside a backpack and a dirty sack he used to not be the center of attention carrying all that.

He filled his bags well and walked with them on his shoulders. The street was way more quiet though the city’s nightlife was pulsing ever younger.

He strolled down the old colonial roads, taking alleys and shortcuts, evading police officers that picked on the beggars for fun. If they found out what he had in his bags they’d lock him up for good couple of weeks.

The smell under the bridge was nauseating, years of trash being tossed into the river had made it an unofficial city dumpster. It always made Mike gag at least three times before he would get over the feeling.

He poured the content of his bags on the muddy shore, all that shine, gold and luxury thrown into the filth. He sighed, then walked back and sat on an old industrial paint bucket.

Then he waited. Patiently.

The water’s surface was placid, plastic bottles and organic human disposals floated adrift. Suddenly something started to stir in the river, ripples of water caressed the filthy shore, faster by the second. Then came the bubbles, right in the center of the river where the stir began. A fetid effervescence that let out a cloud of fog, a putrid slow moving fog that floated over the river towards the shore. Something else came behind the fog, the bubbling was moving closer to the shore.

Mike tried to cover his face as he always did, everything in vain. The smell was always strong enough to make him vomit, and so he did, until there was nothing more to throw out.

The odor intensified as a brownish mass of garbage and organic matter crawled out of the river and into land. More and more of it appeared making it grow in size and smell.  It grew until it was four times the size of Mike.

Mike’s eyes teared up badly. He couldn’t help it, it was always the same.

“Good...Good night your Majesty”, Mike stuttered.

The gigantic blob let out some kind of blurp, some water sprinkled over Mike´s face. It smelled like the water that drips out of pierced trash bags. He gagged.

“Ri...Right”, he stuttered again. “Good night, Oh your Majesty King of the River Bank, Giver of Pardons, Patron of those who are Lost. May your stench endure forever more”

As Mike spoke the mass on the blob moved from the center outwards, as if it was expelling something. A  face came out of the mass, then a man covered in filth levitated in front of Mike.

“That’s better!”, said the man.

At first glance he would have passed as an ordinary man, but if you looked closely at his hands you would have seen his webbed fingers and toes, his teeth are sharp as blades and his eyes are as black as the darkest void. He was the King of Filth.

“Always outdoing yourself Mihalka, well done my child”, the creature clapped.

“My name is not Mihalka anymore, it hasn't been for years now. So keep it to yourself”, Mike turned his head and spat.

“I know, i know. But today is different kind of day Mihalka”, the King of Filth laughed.

“Don’t call me Mihalka. What are you talking about?”, Mike looked confused.

“Is this my tithe?”, asked the creature.

“Yes, your majesty”

“Good. Perfect”

“Take it already”, Mike said.

“No Mihalka, we have to weight it”, Mike knew something odd was going on when the grin on the King of Filth widened and he showed that line of sharp teeth.

“Is there any…”, Mike tried to speak.

“Shhh, silence my child. You know the procedure.”

The blob behind the King of Filth engulfed the bulk of goods and money, swallowing it into its depths.

“Oh, oh, oh. It seems Mihalka didn’t get the message”, The King of Filth’s eyes were like glistening mirrors were Mike could see his own confused face.

“Hey. Wait. What?”

The King of Filth got on his four limbs and in a swift movement slithered behind Mike.

“Oh my, oh my. It seems Mihalka has been abusing the human liqueur”, he put his mouth next to Mike’s left ear. “Don’t you remember Mihalka? My child”

“What...what are you...talking about your… your Majesty?”, Mike was getting nervous. He knew better not to infuriate the King of Filth. Everybody knew that.

“Three days ago Mihalka. Three days ago at night i left the comfort of my waters to pay you and the others a visit. Double the tithe i asked, double it will be you said”

“No...your majesty. I’m sorry, but that’s not true”

“Oh yes? You are calling your King a liar”, the creature looked to both sides as if looking for a witness.

“No sir, it's just that i don’t recall it”

The King of Filth grinned one more time and raised his hand to caress Mike’s forehead.

Flashbacks came one after the other, hitting his head like a sledgehammer.

He was drinking, it was rum, a really cheap one. Caribbean moonshine you might call it. Three nights ago. He sat on the sidewalk when the dizziness took control of his movement. Something totally out of the ordinary happened, out of the corner came the King of Filth, naked and leaving the usual trail of fetid filth behind him. He grinned as usual and kneeled next to Mike.

“Double the tithe my child, or pay with your freedom”, he had said.

“Whatever you say”, Mike answered.

Mike really swore it had been a dream, some kind of hallucination caused by the alcohol.

But it wasn't.

“Sign the contract”, said the King of Filth.

Mike shook his hand and green tattoo like mark glowed in his hand for a couple of seconds, then disappeared.

The King of Filth dropped his hand from Mike’s forehead and the flashbacks stopped.

Mike opened his eyes. Something called his attention, there was something on his right hand. A mark, glowing with a green tint.

“No, no, no!”, Mike sprinted away from the King.

“Yes my child! You are coming back home!”, the King of Filth laughed.

Out of the water came three bullfrogs the size of a mastiff.

“No!”, Mike screamed.

“Your Majesty”, the three frogs spoke at the same time. It was as if they were the same creature.

“You may read him the sentence”, the King of Filth nodded.

“For the crime of not paying the “Double Tithe” to his Majesty, King of the Filth and Protector of those who are Lost. You, Mihalka the Trickster, are sentenced to go return home!”, the frogs said again.

“It seems you won’t be needing that anymore my child”

The King of Filth flicked his wrist and the giant blob jumped over Mike. It first got both of his hands. Mike screamed, it was the scream of a man in excruciating pain.

“No, no. No reason to cry”, said the King of Filth. Flicked his hand again and it was as if he had muted Mike. He screamed and twitched but there was no sound.

The mass of filth wrapped his hands completely and fume came out, it smelled like rotten burnt flesh. Mike fought and pulled, but he couldn't shake it off. The blob let go of his hands, or at least where his hands were supposed to be.

His hands had been eaten to the bone, just strips of flesh remained hanging from it. He looked at it and almost passed out. Streams of tears ran down his face, this time it wasn’t the smell.

“No. Get me his eyes too”, said the King of Filth.

The King ordered, his followers followed. The blob jumped to his face this time.

“Now that you are at it, get his tongue. We don’t want him speaking about this for the next hundred years”

When the putrid mass was off his face there were no eyes in his sockets, pure black emptiness. Mike opened his mouth but there was no tongue for him to use. He plummeted to the floor and moaned.

“Come my children, we are late for the feast”, the King had his feet already in the water.

“What feast your Majesty?”, asked the three frogs at the same time.

“Your brother is back, we have to give him a royal welcome”, he grinned. “Bring him Gurlak”

The gigantic mass of trash slowly engulfed Mike, he was still crawling away. Trying to escape the inevitable.

If only he had not drank that night. He knew better, or so he thought.

The mass engulfed him completely and slithered back into the river.

Oh poor Mikalha, he should have read his contract twice.

[artificialqueens]

The Parent Trap (Biadore) [Prologue] - Henny

A/N:  This is my very first fanfiction ever about RPDR. Be gentle with me. Thankssss and Enjoy

Much love! xx

Being a Drag Queen, it was fairly easy to hide things from the rest of the world. If you wanted to hide things from your family, you can play it off as your character. If you wanted to hide it from your fans, don’t post it on social media. But, even nowadays, if you want to keep something –anything- a secret, just don’t post or tweet about it.

This is how Bianca Del Rio (Roy Haylock) and Adore Delano (Danny Noriega) hid everything about their relationships, more importantly with each other. After Season 6, they remained good friends which eventually developed into something more; they decided to elope six months after. Surprisingly, it was Roy who decided to leave their apartment (formerly Danny’s) in West Hollywood to get married in Las Vegas.

5:36 AM

“Let’s get married right now.”

Danny laughed and cuddled closer to Roy, who pressed his cheek to his boyfriend’s forehead as he looked at the ceiling.

“Okay, sure.” Danny answered, voice dripping with sarcasm. He felt Roy shuffle a bit before opening his eyes. Roy moved lower, so he can talk to Danny face-to-face.

“I’m serious. I have the craziest urge to go to Vegas and make you mine forever.” Roy said, stroking Danny’s cheek lovingly. Danny gasped softly at Roy’s words, still not believing what he was hearing.

“You? You want to get married in Vegas out of the blue; without any plans?”

“Yes.” Roy rolled his eyes which went unnoticed by Danny in the darkness of their bedroom.

“You couldn’t even hold my hand the first week we were dating because you felt bad for ‘not courting me properly’ and now you want to get in a car and drive to Vegas now?”

“Drive to Vegas… Really, Queen? You think that I won that competition and paid for Delta Diamond Membership to drive our asses all the way to Vegas?” Even with the softest voice (if that’s even possible), it amused Danny that Roy can instantly switch into Bianca while he needed more a few hours for makeup and a smoke session to bring out Adore.

“Okay, I get it! You’re probably just tired from all the sex and booze. We’ll talk about it in the morning. Deal?” Danny said against the pillow. To his surprise, Roy sat up a bit and hovered over him, his arms snaking around Danny’s waist to press their bodies closer together.

“No, I mean it. Let’s go right now.”

“What has gotten into you?” One thing Danny will never know was the fact that Roy did have a proposal prepared. It was all well planned and everything was going to take place a month from that night, that was before Roy saw all of the fans raving about Danny as Adore and some guy she had posted on her stupid snapchat. It was all he could see on his feed, and jealousy wasn’t a good color on Roy.

“Danny, I love you and everything about you; I love Adore, your voice, your passion, your music, and I just want to spend my entire life with you in my arms. Please, Baby. Marry me.”

The smile on Danny’s face was blinding as he pressed a kiss on Roy’s lips.

“Okay, I’m down. Let’s go.”

2 hours of packing, 5 hours in the airport due to the delay, 1 hour and 30 minutes flying later…

The time they arrived, a swarm of Drag Race fans who recognized them caught up with them and asked for pictures, which they happily obliged. Roy took a few more pictures before excusing himself and went inside the hotel to check them in. After settling everything, he felt Danny’s chin resting on his shoulder.

“Finally, what took you so long?” Roy asked, slipping his credit card inside his wallet.

“I was talking to this Queen. Her name was Farrah–something. She was just asking tips on how to win Drag Race.” Danny smiled as he helped Roy with their luggage.

“Ha! She asked the wrong queen, didn’t she?” Roy laughed, throwing his head back in mirth. Danny weakly punches the older Queen’s arm, but laughed nonetheless.

When they got to their room, their lack of sleep took over and the two fell asleep faster than Adore gets a joke.

They decided to get married in the morning. Mainly because of the fact that not a lot of people who watch the show or Drag Queens are awake in the morning or are sober enough to remember anything that happens around that time.

They stood outside the small wedding hall in their hotel, both buzzing with excitement.

“God, my dreams are coming true!” Danny giggled, grasping Roy’s hand firmly.

“Aww, getting married to me?” Roy asked in mock giddy, batting his eyelashes at Danny.

“No, have a Fat Elvis officiate my wedding.” Danny rolled his eyes, yet still feeling a sense of pride when he hears Roy laugh.

“Well, that’s one step to forever right?” Roy whispered, bringing the back of Danny’s hand to his lips.

“Forever, Baby.”

After their reception in Pizza Hut, Roy and Danny made a series of calls to their friends and family. Of course, their first calls were made to Aida Haylock and Bonnie Noriega.

“Finally got your ass married, huh?”

“Just remember to use protection!”

After 30 minute phone calls and 13 eye rolls, they made a list of a few friends they were going to tell. Shane (Courtney), Greg (Darienne), Ben (Bendelacreme), Jerick (Jinx), Aaron (Sharon), Justin (Alaska), Brian (Katya), Michelle, Rupaul via Michelle, and a few more personal friends; they all took an oath of secrecy afterwards. All of them had positive reactions upon finding out, even Rupaul sent in a gift basket two weeks later. But, let’s just say Shane wasn’t very happy with the fact he wasn’t invited.

A year later…

Due to Bianca’s tour and Adore’s music, years sped up fast which was huge blessing to the couple. But, for Danny, things have gotten a bit redundant in their lives. He has been scrolling through his Facebook which only showed him pictures of his friends’ babies. With the big eyes and pouty lips,  Danny was hooked on babies. Secretly, he has been doing research about adoption, but the thought of having a baby that looked like him or Roy was too tempting to pass. So, his research shifted from adoption to vitro fertilization.

The hardest part was convincing Roy to have kids, or so Danny thought. Unbeknownst to Danny, Roy has been doing his own research, looking for compatible surrogates online and even called a few clinics who were more than happy to help out. Roy wanted nothing more than to start a family with Danny, he only hopes the younger Queen feels the same.

“I guess I’ll find out tonight…”

3 months later…

Danny was anxious the whole morning. Sandra just called him, telling him that she had news for the couple. Roy finished cooking lunch and set up the tables just in time for Sandra to arrive after her appointment with her doctor.

The doorbell rang and both their hearts sped up at the sound.

“Fuck!” Danny cursed, running to the door to let the woman inside the room.

“Hello!” Sandra beamed sweetly before following Danny to the living room and sat down. She waited for the two men to sit down in front of her before she told them the news that could change their lives forever.

“So, as you all know, this was my first ultrasound after the whole process. And, a while ago, I’m glad to tell you that it’s a success! You’re going to be Fathers!”

Danny didn’t know what to feel but he could feel the scream that ripped out of his throat in happiness. Everything was blur and all he could feel was Roy wiping the tears on Danny’s cheeks, not caring about his own. Sandra was just smiling as she watched the couple in front of her.

“But, there’s one small thing?” She piped up. The two immediately stopped their celebration and looked at her worriedly. She took out the copies of the ultrasound and presented it to the couple in front of her.

“I’m carrying twins. My body accepted both eggs, so these are both yours!” She announced joyfully as Roy and Danny stared at the two little white blobs in the picture with tears in their eyes.

“Yanx, did you hear that? TWINS! We’re going to have twins!”

Without a doubt, this was the happiest day of Roy and Danny’s lives.

Until, it wasn’t.