#i’m just thinking ‘oh the knee replacement is such an easy surgery & it’s just a few bits of metal fixtures’ but like u don’t even WANT a

[bibleofficial]

not me fantasizing abt knee replacement at the ripe age of 25

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

So far what has been the worst thing about being pregnant?

oh so much, so equally.

sciatica, making it so i physically cannot walk without excruciating pain, but only at night when i need to get out of bed to piss. (thankfully i am not a type who needs to piss all the time. yet.)

acid reflux, a constant cold burn in my throat unfazed by tums but is ignorable if im constantly drinking something. so my stomach is always full of liquid, which makes the acid worse, so i have to keep drinking so i dont feel it.

i am So Fucking Hungry. “have less food more often! smaller, more frequent meals!” they say. “because your stomach will get smaller as baby grows!” i dont fucking think so babe. yes i can handle it. yes i know baby is growing rapidly and needs the nutrients and thats why my stomach is constantly growling. baby wants the entire meal, and baby wants another in two hours. pay up or perish. (by perish i mean my stomach will growl so loud you go deaf)

speaking of deaf, the sinus pressure has closed up one of my ears. it’ll go away after birth but the other ear has pulsatile tinnitus that i need surgery for because the sinus pressure and increased blood supply pushed my eardrum back, and i need a replacement prosthetic of some bone in my ear that isnt doing its job.

speaking of sinuses, there’s so much fucking blood in my body that sinus pressure causes nosebleeds, a common pregnancy issue. however, because of allergies i already had prior, my sinuses keep all the blood clotting up inside my sinuses. and because of acid reflux, i’m constantly spitting, so it never has time to settle and properly bleed. instead i cough, snort, and spit up 5-8 BLOOD CLOTS. FROM MY SINUSES. per day. some darker and heavier, most smaller and less dense. i am constantly creating suction pressure in my throat to dislodge blood clots from my nasopharynx. i am always snorting.

my tits are disgusting. i have lymphedema in the breasts, rather uncommon, and it has been completely mimicing the symptoms of breast cancer without having any lumps or actual tumors to show for it. anywhere. they’re simply an angry warm red, feel like an orange peel, hard as dried playdough, and the consistency of a memory foam mattress.

“yr areolas will darken uwu!”

and thats just what i hate the MOST.

things that just annoy me include:

always feeling both exhausted and like i NEED to clean everything. everything. all the time. im noticing dirt and mess that i’ve never seen before in my life. im rewashing perfectly clean items because im not the one who washed them initially.

nesting feels itchy. im exhausted midway through organizing the entire bathroom but i Have To keep going. its compulsive. it feels like an actual rat in my brain trying to claw its way out. and i struggle so badly to ignore it because half the shit i want to do cant be done until mid april. and it’s been scratching at me since like january. it kind of hurts.

also i love kicks but the rolls and swishes feel fucking gross, it feels like there’s a goldfish in my stomach just flopping around nastily. it tickles in a gross way.

i have to sleep on a wedge pillow in addition to my C pillow. both help immensely, but im so blocked off from davyn and it makes me sad. i have to tear my little nest apart if i want to cuddle, and then i can’t for very long because he lays down flat, and the aggravates my acid really badly.

horribly vivid dreams. ive never felt more disturbed by my dreams than i have the past few weeks. it feels so real, nothing like a normal weird dream. the concepts are strange but the environment is so convincing. and it’s usually nightmares.

im really forgetful now and its kind of scary. like genuinely scary because it feels like im losing my mind and its bringing up a lot of... gaslighty trauma from when i was a teenager. sometimes my memory is as perfect as usual, sometimes i forget what just came out of my mouth two seconds ago. davyn is really patient when i get scared.

and i have it relatively easy.

i dont have gestational diabetes, which would necessitate an entirely new diet that i KNOW i wouldnt be able to sustain.

i don’t have blood clots, so i dont have to take those awful shots that bruise the injection site so terribly(i took them after my knee surgery, i switched to warfarin because i couldnt stand the shots anymore after only a week).

i dont have cervical insufficiency, which runs in my family and would necessitate a much higher level of care.

i dont have an Rh incompatibility with my baby, which would necessitate a higher level of care but also one of the most painful shots you can get in pregnancy. in the ass cheek.

i didnt have morning sickness AT ALL, just occasional nausea and not even consistently. some people puke multiple times a day and struggle eating anything. for the entire duration.

i don’t have tons of emotional outbursts, i had one breakdown about davyn eating my banana, one about davyn saying “the pillow is my girlfriend now” because i fixated on the word girlfriend, one because i left soda in the freezer and it exploded, and i cry easily over touching youtube videos a little more easily. thats it. 3 breakdowns and a tender heart. over the past 7 months.

i have it quite easy, and most of all im doing this on purpose.

i’ll say it again every time: reproductive choice is a hill i will happily die on. absolutely fucking nobody deserves any of this, least of all people who don’t know its coming and didnt want it anyway.

i wanted this, and im doing it eagerly. i just also hate it and it sucks and im glad it’ll be over soon and i can have my screamy poopy wrinkly baby on the outside where i can actually LOOK at them and HOLD them and know the tangible fruits of my labor. feels like im wading through a sewer to reach some unknown treasure that im praying will still be there when i get to the end.

make sure your birth control timer is set properly. wrap yr meat. stay aware. etc.

[fruitcoops]

Wisdom With Age

Follow-up to Leo getting his wisdom teeth out: it’s Loops’ turn! Hope you enjoy :) Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for dental work, wisdom teeth removal, anesthesia, and surgery (mentioned)

Sirius carefully, but firmly, set his hand on Remus’ knee to stop it from bouncing. “Sorry,” Remus muttered, then immediately began worrying at the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Okay,” Sirius said under his breath, turning in his seat and taking both of Remus’ hands in his own. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“I don’t like this,” Remus muttered as his eyes flickered up to Sirius’ face. “Honey, I really don’t like this.”

“I know, but you have to do it.”

“Why? They’re my teeth, it’s my mouth, and is it such a bad thing if I don’t want people poking around in it?” The leg started bouncing again. “I mean, humans survived for thousands of years with their wisdom teeth, and—and teeth serve a lot of very important purposes besides chewing. This could fuck up my ears, and my hearing—”

“Remus.”

He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw.

Sirius began tracing slow circles over his knuckles. “You know better than anyone why this is important, and it’s dangerous to keep them in any longer than you already have. I totally respect that you’re freaked out right now, but you’ve got to calm down. These guys do this all the time.”

“There are always exceptions.”

Yes, I know, I’ve been thinking about all those scenarios for the past two weeks. “And you won’t be one of them. How long did you spend finding this place, again?” There was a beat of silence. “Re.”

“Four hours,” he muttered.

“Exactly. You did your research.” Remus’ eyes wandered up to the clock and his grip tightened when he saw how little time was left until their appointment. Distraction, distraction—“Tell me why you chose this place.”

That got his attention. “What?”

“You spent four hours sifting through dentists’ offices online, right? Tell me why this one stood out to you.”

“Um. Well, I guess it was just a combination of things. They have really good ratings and this is where Leo got his out, which went well. He was on his feet within a week, which was impressive. The equipment is good quality and—”

“Remus Lupin?”

“Oh, fuck me.” The nurse raised her eyebrows at him, and he flushed deep red as Sirius hid a smile in his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry. Hi, that’s me. Remus Lupin. I’m…a little nervous.”

Her face softened as she walked over. “That’s perfectly normal. We have a little bit of paperwork for you to look over and then we’ll get started. Is this the person who will be driving you home?”

“That’s me. How long will it take?”

“Oh, an hour or so. Not long.” She handed Remus a pen before turning back to Sirius. “We do these procedures all the time, so there’s nothing to worry about. The surgery is quick and easy.”

Remus’ hand skidded across the page on the word ‘surgery’ and Sirius squeezed his thigh gently as he took a trembling breath. “Thank you for doing this on such short notice,” Sirius said with a smile while Remus read. “We really appreciate it.”

“Why does this have to be so important?” Remus mumbled as he signed the last page.

The nurse shrugged. “Human bodies are funny things.”

He snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“I was a physical therapist for six years,” he said, handing the clipboard back to her. “Unfortunately, that means I know exactly why putting this off for so long was a bad idea.”

“I don’t know about a bad idea.” The nurse tilted her head to the side. “You still came in to do it before there were any problems, right? That seems pretty smart to me, and very brave.”

“She’s right,” Sirius said quietly, knocking their shoulders together. “You’ve got this, mon loup.”

The nurse waited patiently while he took a few deep breaths before standing up and hugging Sirius tight around the chest. “You’ll be here, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He gave him a gentle kiss on the lips and the inside of his wrist. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

The tension returned to Remus’ shoulders as he followed the nurse out of the lobby; Sirius sat down and grabbed a magazine to distract himself for the next hour.

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

Twenty minutes later, the nurse came back out. Sirius stood up immediately as fear bolted through his chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she soothed, taking the seat next to his with a sigh. “There was a bit of trouble getting him to fall asleep, though.”

“Oh?” Sirius tried to keep his voice neutral as he sat down, but even he could tell it didn’t work that well.

She gave him an amused look. “Your boy is stubborn. We get nervous people all the time, but he seemed to have a personal vendetta against our anesthesiologist. The countdown usually lasts three seconds, maximum, but I made it all the way down to five before he was out.”

“But he’s okay?”

“He’s just fine.” She patted his hand.

“He’s been avoiding this for about four years now.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Hates hospitals and dentists, but still got a medical degree.” Sirius huffed. “His mom threatened to drive here from Wisconsin and drag him in by the ear if he didn’t schedule it soon.”

The nurse smiled. “You’d be surprised by how many young folks we get in here shaking in their boots. It’s really not that bad of a procedure, but all you hear about are the times it went wrong.”

Sirius hummed in agreement. “Is it normal to be nervous for him?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Lots of people cry while they’re waiting, though I haven’t quite figured out why. Feel free to do some wailing if you think it’ll help.”

“I’ll pass, but thank you for the offer,” Sirius laughed. There were a few heartbeats of comfortable silence before he spoke again. “I don’t like the idea of him being in there all alone.”

“Oh, honey, nobody does.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. “We always want to be there for the ones we love. Boyfriend?”

“Fiancé.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“This summer.” He smiled to himself. “I’m really excited.”

“How long have you been together?”

“We’ve known each other for six years or so, but we’ve only been dating for one.”

They chatted back and forth, and Sirius felt his nerves melt away as the conversation turned to Harry, then Regulus and Jules, until a tall man in a white coat poked his head into the lobby. “Do we have a companion for Remus Lupin in here?”

Sirius raised his hand. “That’s me.”

“Come on back, he just woke up.”

The dentist’s office smelled different than a hospital, which Sirius was grateful for. Remus wouldn’t like waking up with the scent of rubbing alcohol all around him. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow with various murals for the younger patients—each room had its own name tag with stickers.

“Remus?” The doctor knocked on the door as he opened it. “We’ve got someone here for you.”

“Hmm?” Remus blinked sleepily at them from the table; his face was puffy from anesthesia and gauze.

“Hey, Re,” Sirius said, taking his hand and rubbing it between his own. “Are you ready to go home?”

Remus squinted at him for a long moment. “Did it hurt?” he asked.

“Did what hurt?”

A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth. “When you fell from heaven. Hiya, handsome, I’m Remus.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Sirius looked back at the doctor, who was hiding his laughter in his hand.

“Here’s your aftercare sheet,” he said, pushing the wheelchair a little closer and handing Sirius a piece of paper. “Can you get him outside by yourself?”

Sirius nodded. “It might take some manhandling, but I’ll be fine.”

“Damn right, you’re fine,” Remus snorted.

“Merde,” Sirius muttered. “Alright, you shameless flirt, can you sit up by yourself?”

Remus winked at him, though it was more like a slow blink. “Might take some manhandling. What’s your name, angel?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He shrugged as Sirius helped him clamber into the wheelchair. “I need something to yell.”

“Holy shit, Re!” Sirius spluttered, nearly steering him straight into the cupboards in surprise. “You can’t just say that in the middle of a dentist’s office!”

Remus frowned and glanced around the room. “Is that where I am?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t like dentists. Or hospitals. Super fuckin’ creepy.”

“Yes, I know.” The hall was mostly empty, thank god. “You’ve told me.”

“Have we met before?” Remus stared up at him and nearly went crosseyed. “You’re being so nice to me.”

“We’ve known each other for six years.”

“Huh. I really hope we’re dating, because there’s no way I’m passing up a chance to tap that.”

“You know, Leo was incredibly sweet when his wisdom teeth got taken out,” Sirius sighed as they went down the next corridor. “He called Finn ‘pretty’ and then only wanted cuddles for a few days. You, on the other hand, were apparently so stubborn that they had to spend twenty minutes putting you to sleep, and now you’re hitting on me like a drunk frat boy.”

“I can call you pretty if you want.” Sirius stopped walking as Remus reached up to trail a surprisingly steady hand down his cheek; some of the flirty mischief was replaced by awe. “You really are beautiful. What’s your name? For real this time, I want to know.”

“Sirius.”

“Like the star.” The corners of Remus��� eyes crinkled. “Brightest one in the sky. It fits.”

“Just for that, I’m going to let you in on a secret,” Sirius said as they neared the exit.

“Oh?”

“We’re engaged.”

“What?”

[tsukkiseasalt]

Eyes That Won’t Wonder

2

“What, what!?” You shriek.

Another low laugh erupts from him as he leans against the door, his large frame blocking any potential view of the inside.

“I believe that is a compliment.” He mumbles his lips curling up into a sly smile. 

“Y-yeah, it was.” You stammer, words barely making themselves out of you as your stomach begins to do cartwheels.  

“As much as I'd love to stay right here and chat, you’d probably find it to be much more comfortable inside.” He says, smile fully present now, and you take a moment to admire the sight-storing it in your mind. He moves enough for you to slip right past him and pause the moment your feet touch the dark hardwood floors. 

The aroma is the first thing that invades your senses. It smells of pine and a rich tobacco, with slight hints of something sweet- maybe vanilla, you can’t really tell. The home is just as beautiful on the inside as it appeared from the outside. The dark hardwood floors complimented the ivory walls and dark rust colored trim. The living room was sparsely decorated though, it had only one couch, a chestnut loveseat and a matching recliner. He obviously doesn’t get many visitors. 

“Your home is beautiful.” You say breathlessly, eyes roaming the space in awe. 

“Thank you.” He exclaims, a large hand grazing the small of your back as he slips behind you and towards the kitchen. His touch makes your knees go weak and you steady yourself by placing a shaky hand on the door.

“Would you like something to drink?” You hear him call from the kitchen.

“Ah, water please.” You answer, taking a few deep breaths before you saunter over to the counter placing your folder in front of you. He slides the glass in front of you and you nod as a thank you before you begin to sip.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name.” He says leaning back onto the fridge, arms folded over his massive chest.

“Oh, uh, my name is y/n y/ln.” You mumble your index finger rubbing the rim of the glass. 

“Lovely, it fits you.” He says, eyes catching your own. You can't help the blush that arises on your cheeks. 

“T-thank you.” You manage to stammer out, silently cursing yourself for getting so flustered so quickly. He was a patient not some guy at a bar, you needed to get a grip and you needed to get it fast. “Uhm, you’re a bit younger than most of the other patients i have worked for. Is there actually anything wrong with you?” You quiz, but the words come out a bit harsher than you intended. “Oh goodness, I did not mean that in a bad way at all sir- Mr. Wakatoshi, oh my goodness. I am so sorry.” You exhale letting your head fall into your hands. Your words are all becoming a jumbled mess and you can't help the shame that creeps up your throat. Great, now he probably thinks I'm some kind of asshole.

“No, it's okay. I understand what you were trying to say. Two years ago I had to get a disc in my back replaced and it took a lot out of me. Though I can still get around pretty well, there are still certain tasks that I need help with. I am also set to have another surgery on my knee two months from now, so I thought it would be better to have someone get accustomed to me and my habits beforehands.” He says voice monotone. Is he angry?

“Mr. Wakatoshi, I am so sorry if I came off as rude earlier- I didn’t mean to offend.” You say feeling guilty. 

He shakes his head. “You’re fine sweetheart, I’m actually quite flattered that you think that.” Before you have a chance to relish his words he starts again, “I’m going to go put some clothes on, but here. I made a list- well a schedule really- of how my day usually functions. You can look over it and if there is anything that seems to be a bit much for you let me know and we will make alterations to it.” He says walking out of the kitchen and returning with a piece of paper. “Here, I will return shortly.” He says handing you the paper. Your eyes skim the page as you read the text.

7:30am- Arrive & make coffee ( I prefer mine black)

7:45am- Read the newspaper

8:00am- Feed Randy & Lyle 

8:15am- Pour second cup of coffee & wash dishes

8:30-9:30am- 2nd Workout (If you could have a bowl of fruits waiting that would be lovely)

10:00am- Post shower stretch (Help isn’t required but appreciated)

10:30-12:00pm- Take Lyle to the park (You are more than welcomed to join us) 

12:30pm- Lunch / with Aone* (*Mon. & Thurs. only)

1:00pm- Stop at farmers market

1:30pm- Arrive home & check on Randy

1:35-4:00pm- Varies (You may leave at this time or you may stay for dinner.)

4:00-6:00pm- Prepare dinner

6:05- 6:45pm- Eat then wash dishes

All that is required of you is bolded, the italicized text is completely voluntary, though I would enjoy your company.

“Goodness.” You mumble, placing the paper down. “This is even less than I did with Washijō.” You thought you had it easy then just checking his oxygen, helping him up, and taking him wherever, but you were basically an in-home barista.

“I hope it isn't too much.” The voice startles you as he appears beside you now fully clothed- well not really. He had on a pair of dark sweatpants and a gray sleeveless shirt putting biceps on display for all to see.

“Uh, no, not at all sir. I was expecting much more actually.” You admit eyes darting between the paper and his arms. 

“Oh, well I'm sorry to disappoint you.” He says voice low as he bends down to tie his shoes. “I’m sure that there will be more for you to do after my knee surgery.”

“Yes, and I'm not disappointed sir, I'm honestly kind of relieved. I haven't worked with anyone in quite a while, so this is a good refresher to allow me to get back into the routine of things.” You say words falling from your lips before you realize it.

“Is that so?” He asks standing back up to his full height, face full of curiosity.

“Yes, my previous patient passed away and I took some time off. He and I were close, friends even, and the death really hit me hard even though I knew it was coming. It still hurts ya know.” You exclaim as feelings of sadness wash over you at the thought of your friend. 

You didn't know what you were expecting when you told him that, maybe an ‘i'm sorry for your loss’ or nothing at all but it is safe to say a hug was not one of those things. His body was warm and his chest was solid- it felt good. You wrapped your own arms around his waist and closed your eyes. 

“I hope that one day you and I could be friends as well.” He says quietly pulling away. 

You don't fight the smile that graces your face, “Yeah, I feel like we will.”

The words seem to liven him because a large smile spreads across his face again. “Well I’m gonna go lift now, feel free to look around. There's food in the fridge and snacks in the pantry. Make yourself at home.” He says walking to the back of his home.

“Oh, Mr. Wakatoshi!”

“Yes love?” He asks, turning back around, a smile still lingering on his lips.

“Who are Lyle and Randy?” You ask looking back down at the paper, partly to hide the blush that you are now sporting. “Are they your children?” 

“Yes, they are my children. I’ll introduce you when I return.” He laughs before turning back around and disappearing into a hallway.

You sigh as soon as he is out of eyesight dropping your head onto the cool marble countertop, raising your head just enough to read the time on the clock that sits unwavering by stairs. 8:37. You had just under an hour to get somewhat acquainted with the home you would now be in for ten hours a day for six days a week. You decide to begin with the kitchen, opening and closing drawers & cabinets identifying the contents within them, occasionally rubbing a light hand over them. Next is the living room. The wide open space is mostly vacant and you take a seat on the loveseat sinking back into the cushions. “Nice.” You mumble.  

Pushing yourself up you wonder to every room opening the door just enough for you to peek in and see what it is. You hesitate though when you get to the room at the end of the hallway. It’s his. You could sense it, nonetheless you slowly push the knob down and peek inside. It’s clean just like the rest of his home. You don't linger and decide its best to close the door & move onto the next. 

By 9:15  you’d looked throughout his entire home, and it was more beautiful than you could have imagined. The ceilings in the bathrooms were high and had beautiful artworks painted atop of them, they looked as though they belonged in a museum rather than someone's guest bathroom. The spare bedrooms were just as lovely. Each had a shelf that was littered with books and knick-knacks that looked foreign. All of this just fueled your curiosity- what did he do & how long did he do it?

You shrugged as you went back into the kitchen jumping when you saw his large frame in the fridge. He was shirtless, again, but this time his hair was wet and clung to his head. The small gray stripes were clear as day against his dark olive locks.

“Oh, hi. I didn’t think you’d be done yet.” You say awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.

“Yes, I finished early and decided to shower & grab a snack.” He says waving the bowl of strawberries.

“I was about to prepare one for you.” You said.

“Oh, thank you. You don't really have to do anything today, just get accustomed to things.” He says popping the small red fruit into his mouth. 

“Would you like me to stretch you out?” You ask, remembering the list. 

His eyes shoot up to yours as soon as the question escapes your lips and you realize how wrong it sounded and before you had a chance to correct yourself he spoke. “You stretch me out, I mean i’ll try anything once but i’d prefer the opposite..”

His words startled you to say the least, and almost instinctively the words flowed from your lips, “I’d like to see you try.” 

His eyes widened at your remark and at that you began to spew apologies. “Shit, fuck, DAMMIT. God, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, the stretching part I mean. Well I meant that, but not what I said afterwards. Ok, let me start over. What I meant to say is do you need help stretching considering you just got done working out. There, that's what I meant.” 

Your eyes are frantic as they lock with his. God, it's the first day and I'm already gonna lose my damn job. Just great. His lips are pressed in a straight line for a moment before he finally lets the edge of them glide up into a small smirk. 

“I’ve already stretched, but I suppose I could go a little deeper, maybe a little harder this time.” He says emphasizing the two words as he pops another strawberry between his lips smirk still evident.

“The stretches of course.?” You ask for clarification.

He hums and pops another strawberry between his lips setting the bowl down onto the counter stalking towards you, his large figure quickly engulfing your much smaller one almost instantly. “That’s not quite what I had in mind.” 

You can feel his warm breath on your lips as he leans down, “But if that is what you insist.” 

A loud bark bellowed throughout the kitchen causing you to jump. He smiled and wrapped a protective arm around your waist. “No need to fret, he was probably just getting anxious to meet you.”

“He?”

“Yes, my son, or at least one of them. Come on so I can introduce you.” He says guiding you down the hallway, to his room you assumed. You were correct, you realized as he pushed the door open revealing a large dog. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart he doesn’t bite. Daddy made him promise to be on his best behavior.” He whispers lowly into your ear. 

Fuck, this may be harder than I thought.

hiiiiii, this is the second chapter & you can just check the tag eyesthatwontwonder to read the first. anywaysssss i hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are always appreciated <33

[prince-toffee]

BumbleBee 2

Opening Scene

Same Cybertron panning shot as the one that opens the first movie, only reversed. This time we see the final battle for Cybertron from the Decepticons’ perspective.

We see Starscream, Soundwave, and Shockwave leading the battle, they’re our main villains, among the henchmen we see Thundercracker, Skywarp among all the other Seekers, maybe some Reflectors/Reflektors, of course Dropkick and Shatter, and Arachnid to parallel Arcee and because I really like Arachnid - Each has a one line introduction like the Autobots did.

We ride along with Starscream, with an over the wing view of him, Skywarp, and Acid Storm taking down the Escape-Pod Tower.

He lands on a high peak to admire his work, Starscream notices the last escape pod launching, that being Bee, and a rogue Blitzwing following it, he’s about to follow when he hears Skywarp come through on the comms.

“What is it, Skywarp?!”

“Prime didn’t take off! He took down Acid Storm, but he’s cornered! Get over here!”

“To all Seekers: Converge on Skywarp’s position, surround Prime!” He says as he flies down and we’re treated to the same scene of Prime being surrounded and piled on, it cuts at the same point.

Jump cut to a close-up of a silvery dirty stained floor, and Prime’s knees fall onto it.

Pull out to see Prime captured and cuffed, surrounded by Cons, Screamer looking down on him.

Screamer gloats, “The holy and mythic Optimus Prime, on his knees, bowing to me. Heh, oh and they said the day would never come. And yet here we are. I have done what even the great and almighty Megatron could never do! Now, where are your Autobots heading? What are you planning?”

Prime resists of course, “You are no Megatron, Starscream. I do not fear you. And none of us ever will. You have nothing to offer this fallen world, but empty words.”

“Oh?! Oh??!! Are these empty words?!!!: Dropkick! Persuade our guest to... open up a little.”

Dropkick on Optimus’ right extends his blade, his hand is shaking, he’s nervous, Prime notices, “Your hand’s shaking, son. You sure you want to do this?”

“Shut it old mech. I’m not scared of you.”

Starscream orders him to hurry up, “Dropkick, hurry it up!”

Dropkick raised the blade into the air.

Just then the door behind them turned to glass and exploded, Starscream took cover while all the other Cons open fire at the intruders, in the confusion Prime manages to knock out Dropkick with a single headbutt.

Shatter, on Prime’s left about to finish the job when the floor under her caved in.

The last Seeker fell offline, and out from the smoke came in running Cliffjumper, “Hey dad!”

“Cliffjumper what are you doing here!? I ordered Operation: Exodus, you sh-”

“You don’t really think I was going to leave you, did you?” Cliff takes the cuffs off, they duck as Starscream’s missiles whizzed past above them, they ran off, as they do Cliff mentions when he infiltrated the Con outpost he left some ‘parting-gifts’, with the press of a button on his arm the building shakes with explosions.

Shatter and Dropkick pursue.

Cliff and Prime think they’ve escaped, but don’t realise Shatter placed a tracker on Cliff.

Autobots say their farewells, “Just try not to be the hero this time, and just get your tailpipe outta here, okay Bossbot?”

“Same goes for you my friend, safe travels.”

The scene cuts from Prime’s perspective, looking through his eyes, as the stashed away pod seals around the camera, and blackness takes over as the pod shuts closed with a heavy ‘shunk’.

We jump cut to Mars, Prime’s pod crashes next to Cliff’s, we see him kneel down and hold Cliff’s corpse.

Cut to Earth, all the Bots are gathered around Cliff’s coffin, bright red Autobot insignia at the centre.

Each Autobot places a vile of inner-most energon on the coffin, all the Bots present include OP, Bee, Arcee, Jazz, Ratchet, Brawn, Ironhide, and Wheeljack.

An escape-pod seals around the coffin as a voiceover by Optimus begins, “When a spark comes online, there is great joy,” The pod launches and rockets towards the sun, “When a spark goes offline, there is great sadness.”

We cut to Cliff’s face in the coffin, it is bathed in warm yellow light of the sun, giving the feeling of Cliff ascending (to the Well of All Sparks).

Title - BumbleBee 2

The primary colours on the title screen are yellow and black, black takes over until the screen is all darkness.

Then some hexagonal circuitry detail zips around the screen, which expands into Bee’s visor display.

Bee opens his eyes.

Bee’s first sight he sees is of Ratchet and Wheeljack, Ratchet begins to check up with Bee, “Hey, buddy, how you feeling? Just finished the surgery, replaced your Voice-Box, thanks to Wheeljack’s apparent collection of spare organs that he seemingly brings with him everywhere.”

“What can I say, I’m a hoarder.” Jack said with a shrug, Ratchet rolled his eyes.

Bee tried to say something, “Woaw, easy there, your new faceplate needs to adjust to your new ‘Box.” Bee now has his G1-isk face with a nose and mouth.

Wheeljack reached for a piece of the bug alt-mode Charlie removed in the last film, “Hope you don’t mind, but we had to boot up your last save to re-synthesise your voice.”

Jack attached the part to Bee’s chest, “...No it’s okay, I like it.”

Ratchet’s hand extends to him, Bee takes it and pulls himself up.

[peantbutter-honeycombs]

The Hollowing Series: Part II

Title: The Boy and His Companion

Word count: 3,339

Characters: The 11th Doctor, Amy Pond, ocs

Warnings: Platonic fic not romantic.

Notes: Originally the story was going to be completely told from the point of Sophia but after a few drafts I decided it should follow Oliver. My college friend who sometimes beta reads my work used to hate the boy but now she likes him. He used to be mean and dismissive toward Sophia but clearly I changed things. Even I quite like his character now.

Speacial Thanks to @underskaro for beta reading this chapter. I know your busy and this really meant a lot to me. So thank so much.

Figured I tag @mirkwoodshewolf because they kindly edited the first chapter and I want them to know I finally got around to the second.

———

The rain had ceased, leaving a heavy blanket of grey white on the hills. It hugged the rain-soaked ground, dancing around each of the kid’s heels. The late day fog controlled the landscape, making it blur in the same way as the opening credits of Mary Poppins.

The entire walk home, the two walked in silence. Oliver, in one hand, held the middle bar of the bright green trike. The metal was ice in his palm. He gripped the bar so tight his knuckles were turning a ghostly shade of white. He held Sophia’s hand in the other, though not nearly as tight. However, still tight enough to make the little girl uneasy.

Sophia would have “said” something if it wasn’t so woefully clear Oliver was cross. His soulful hickory eyes were hard as stone. Instead of their usual boyish spark, there lingered a disdainful flicker. She could swear he was muttering something bitter. Now and then she’d fear a foul word, he’d probably later scold himself for saying.

Whoooooooooo.

He stopped, eyes narrowing. He took a deep, rather stiff breath and sharply exhaled through his nostrils. Adrenaline surged through his system so fast he felt it burn a path through his veins. He spun around, pulling Sophia behind him. Oliver had a glacially callous glare on his face, eyes fixed on the horizon.

The wind tore at the collar of his slicker, and his damp mess of blonde curls. Their surroundings were clouded, hidden, shrouded by the thick veil of fog. Oliver stood silently, the only sound coming from the ferocious flapping of his jacket. He scanned the stretch with the careful eye of a concerned mother.

The fog is not the mist. The fog is not the mist.

The second they arrived home, Oliver condemned Sophia to the time-out chair. She quietly settled in on the stool, positioned in the far corner of the dead end down stairs corridor, without protest. It was an older item. The hand carved mahogany always felt stiff on her bum. But she thought it better not to whine.

Oliver, he sat alone in the living room. A damp, worn out mess of a human being. He tiredly sunk into the couch. He ignored the clammy feeling of his rain-soaked clothes. He completely collapsed across the cushions. Every muscle in his body just surrendered to gravity. He could feel the tiredness pressing on his chest, weighing him down, draining his energy, exhausting his patience.

Why would she think?… Especially now. He rolled off his side onto his back and focused his eyes on the ceiling. She can’t just… Ugh!

He brought a pillow to his face and screamed.

The seconds ticked away into minutes; in the isolation of the sitting room, Oliver let the world around him fade into silence. The minutes ticked into half an hour; Sophia absentmindedly twiddled her thumbs, humming a familiar song in the back of her head; Oliver had been awake for sixteen hours. His consciousness was grasping at straws.

One sniff and Oliver’s eyes are open. He rolled on to his side. Immediately his face fell into irritation. Oliver locked eyes with a familiar pair mere inches from his face.

“I’m not done with timeout. Go back.”

Sophia blinked, processing the instructions she’d just been given. Her eyes darted around, searching his face for any traces of sarcasm or falsehood. Nothing.

Sophia lightly pecks his cheek in the sloppy little kid way. It left a little wet mark, one he’d wipe away once she’d left the room. Oliver chuckles softly, carefully bumping his forehead against Sophia’s. The little ginge giggled, stumbling back, whilst raising a palm to where her temple had been nudged.

“Ten minutes?”

Sophia nods and politely shuffles off.

The landscape blurred, clouded, the fog lingered hovering above the cool streams and the crowned hills. The brilliant greens and vibrant patches of rich wildflower were poking through the fleeting fog. Soon the sun would begin its descent. Lowering, lowering until it was nothing more than a single sliver of gold vanishing on the horizon.

Eyes closed, arms folded over his chest, which rhythmically rose and fell with each dozy intake of breath, Oliver laid quietly on the couch. The father clock at the top of the stairs ticked, the pendulum swung from side to side. Quarter till four, it read.

Sophia sat in her timeout chair, continuing to hum her melodic tune. In these moments of boredom with no toys to play, no stuffy to “talk” to and no Ollie to cling to, all Sophia could do was wait. She sighed, blowing up a long strand of hair that kept dipping, falling between her eyes.

Oliver stuck his head through the white Tudor arch way that separated the sitting room and entryway corridor. Sophia, having somehow positioned herself upside down on the small stool, gave the boy a dopey smile.

Oliver rolled his eyes, pulling at the fabric of his shirt.

“Hey Soph a loaf,” Oliver softly sing-songed, sitting against the wall directly beside the timeout spot. Being upside down, her auburn hair fell in waves suspended centimetres above the rough and stained planks. She was holding her shirt down, preventing it from exposing her stomach.

“You… Wanna make a pillow fort?”

The quiet of the house is shattered by Sophia, letting out a blaring squeal. In moments she somersaults off the bench, landing clumsily on the floor. She’s up on her feet in a heartbeat, bouncing, squealing, stomping.

Oliver chuckles lightly. “Sophia, Sophia, Sophia.”

Sophia poked her head through the arch at the call of her name.

Sophia whined, tilting her head as if to ask ‘what?’

“Nothing. Just… love you Soph a loaf. Lots and lots.”

The pillow fort took longer than expected, given that they both took the construction of fort building oh so seriously. They rushed through putting on their pjs, then moved on to making dinner. No one could tell them not to eat under the bedclothes.

“You can’t put peanut butter on grilled cheese!”

Just as it did every day, the sun set. The shadows of the trees and the aging building stretched up the hills, as the golden ball of orangish yellow began its descent.

Beneath navy blue blankets, patterned with rocket ships and sea creature stickers, sat the two children. Oliver had built much of the fort; Borrowing cushions, towels and blankets from around the house. While Sophia had eagerly decorated their cloth kingdom; twinkle lights, stickers, and scribbled drawings decorated the walls and ceilings.

“So her dad was killed-- Ow. By the same agent trying to recruit her?"

Cuddled firmly against his side was Sophia, her body glued against his similar to Double Pops. Every time she moved, her knees or feet would buck, nailing Oliver in the ribs or hip. He had an arm wrapped around her neck, functioning as both a pillow for her head, and one support for the tablet he was holding.

“That’s quite coinc-- Ow! Sophia!”

Sophia bit the edge of her lip, trying to contain her giggles. Her giggle was a violin playing the open string G (Sol), alluring and dulcet. Considering she burst into a mini giggle fit with each jab, Oliver’s face crumpled like a discarded wad of paper.

He could feel Sophia wiggling against him. Her legs squirmed in a boyishly wild fashion. Her knees curved, beating him in the ribs.

“Ow!" Oliver sat up.

“Okay.” He inhaled sharply. His body was stiff from high levels of irritation. Sophia calmed herself, gently curling her toes. Her brown eyes followed Oliver’s movements, becoming larger, curious.

“Sophia, do you have to use the toilet?”

Sophia drew in her lip. She bent her knees, so she grabbed her toes. She stared, thinking hard. He watched as her face became still, eyes blinking frenziedly. Within fifteen seconds, she nodded.

“Let’s go then.” He stood, helping Sophia up.

He crawled out of the fort’s entry tunnel, it was barely big enough for him to squeeze through. They’d run low on pillows, while building some part of the structure had to be sacrificed.

He heard the soft scuffling of sock padded feet against the old wooden floor. “Sophia?” He looked back over his shoulder, realising Sophia was making more noise than necessary.

“No! Soph, you’re not bringing a blanket to the loo.”

“We lay my love and I…” Oliver sang.

Oliver sat on the third step of the stairs. Beating his hands against his thighs. He was a child. His rigid posture had been replaced by a chill slouch. Sophia had taken her time correcting the blanket as she shifted. She was just now clambering out of the blanket fort.

“Beneath the weeping willow…”

Sophia shuffled past him into the next room, across the corridor from the sitting room. As she passed, Oliver gently took hold of the back of her shirt. Sophia backtracked, then turned on her heels to face him. Oliver had a focused look, his eyes fixated on the ginger like a surgeon during brain surgery.

“Sophia. Where are you going?” He asked.

Sophia wrinkled her nose, pointing in every direction. Oliver simply rolled his eyes.

“Then go find your sweater.” He instructed. Sophia points to the room she was headed toward. “No. It’s not in the drawing room. You left it in my room. Upstairs.”

Sophia let out a pout huff, making Oliver chuckle. She looked past him at the stairs, eyes narrowing to a thin line. Nonetheless, she began her slow ascent upwards. A downside of wooden stairs. If you’re not wearing shoes, instead socks, it's easy to slip. Her sock covered feet slipped and slid, making her ascent up the stairs look clumsy.

“One foot in front of the other.” Oliver teased. Sophia, her face only inches from his ear, blew a spitty raspberry. With the satisfying feeling of retaliation, Sophia pressed on.

“Remember to use the toilet.” Oliver reminded, wiping the flecks of spit from the side of his face.

Oliver patted his thighs and then stood. Standing rather motionless, in his sharp black and orange KTM Factory pyjamas, he distinguished himself amongst the rustic clutter of the foyer. After a moment of stillness, he leapt from the third step, landing on the floor with a hard thud. He resets himself, brushing a hand through his mop top of dirty honey blonde hair.

He wanders around the corridor, gently running his fingers across the wall, over the knickknacks and along the edges of the chair rail.

"But now alone I lie..." he quietly sang, “...And weep beside the tree...”

The house was old. Ancient. It looked like it had been plucked from an autumn-aphile's Pinterest board. Time had been kind to the country home. While the creepers crept along the worn grey cobbles, the inside was a monument to times long gone by.

Thump, thump, thump.

Sophia. She was moving around upstairs.

His mother was a collector. Her husband called her a hoarder. She called herself a dreamer. She was a traveller. When she had been young, before the children, she'd seen the world collecting baubles and knickknacks that now cluttered the home.

Thump, thu, thu, thum.

"Your feet aren't drums!"

A single overhanging lamp dimly illuminated the foyer, mirroring the glow of candle light. Their neighbour had once asked why they didn’t store all their tchotchkes away in the shed. Stacks of completed books left careless about rough wood carvings from around, antique finds nestled beneath blankets of dust, dried flowers, and colourful drawings from Oliver’s younger days.

Thump, thu, thu, thum.

The house, so full of things. Some would shudder at the chaos of it all, others would be queasy because of claustrophobia, and rest would be quietly fascinated.

Oliver stood himself in front of Credenza, pushed up against the left wall. He eyed the reflection staring at him through the distressed mirror mounted about mahogany sideboard.

He’d forgotten a lot rather recently. Thirteen. He’s thirteen. His eyes are a weak shade of brown, not like Sophia’s, the colour of almond coffee. His dirty blonde hair softly curled and tucked, just barely overhanging his sunken eyes.

Thump, thu, thu, thum.

“Singing ‘Oh willow waly’…” he sang, “… by the tree that weeps with me.”

Oliver retreated, leaning against the sloping stair posts. He checked the clock hanging above the front door. Four minutes had passed since Sophia had gone upstairs. Standing there with nothing to do but listen to the creaky footsteps from above.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

“Singing—”

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

His nerves abandon him quickly. His breathing becomes shallow and erratic. He couldn’t hear his rapid breathing, the chaotic beat of his heart dominated. His fingers curl into a fist, nails piercing the tender skin of his palm.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

His eyes dart to the clock. 6:11.

It’s as if his hidden sixth or seventh sense activates. Every tick of the clock is a threat, every creak of a floorboard is a risk. His fingers twitched as he defensively moved toward the door. His body stiffens, trying to shut him down before he can reach the front door. He keeps moving.

His hands tremble and his skin becomes rough with goosebumps as he reaches towards the door handle grip.

No one knocks. No one could would.

He grips the handle tightly thumb pressed on the thumb-place, the metal would surely leave a mark on his palm. He finds it hard to swallow, lungs betraying him. Slowly he presses down on the thumb-place, pulling on the handle.

“Hello!”

Oliver’s blood ran cold. He tightened his jaw.

“You followed us?” Oliver murmured. His grip on the door handle tightened, to where he could feel the cool metal dig into his palm. Standing square, shoulders defensively strained back, he felt a knot forming in the back of his throat. Fear sat quietly, waiting like a vulture, ready to claim him.

“You followed us home?” His eyes darted to the Moors, where a small cloud of mist was slowly forming. He wasn’t quite scared. His eyes showed more of a wary concern. After all, he was all that stood between two mysterious strangers and his world.

“Yes. We did.” As he spoke, Oliver observed the Doctor with slight aversion. When he spoke, he’d move his hands about. A little unnerving. Still Oliver held his ground, preventing the Doctor, still a stranger, from entering his home. “We have some questions…”

“Questions?”

Thump, thump, thump.

That’s when Oliver jumps. A pump of adrenaline surged through his system almost triggering his flight or fight instinct. Without his support “system”, it would have been flight. Oliver shook his head, pushing down his panic.

Thump, thump, thump.

He was the barrier between his world and trespassers. A wave of boldness washed through him, demanding he be bold and shielding. However, a light gust of embarrassment from his jump made his cheeks glow.

“You-- you have questions?” he stammered.

The Doctor seemed to take this as an invitation. He moved to enter the cobblestone house. Oliver slammed a hand across to the other side of the door frame, so he couldn’t enter.

The Doctor’s brows pressed together, his shoulders slumped, and his mouth hung slightly open and loose. His expression gave way to his confusion. A hard stone glare carved into Oliver’s tired eyes. A warning. The doctor took heed and took a careful step back.

His lighthearted manner returned within seconds.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m the Doctor, this is my friend Amy. What’s your name?” He asked as he extended a hand out for Oliver.

Oliver shook his head, smiling a little, as he gently pushed the Doctor’s hand down and said.

“Can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

Just because someone introduces themselves, they aren’t any less of a stranger. Though most of what he observed of the Doctor seemed safe, suspicion and caution still governed his mind. He’d be more trusting in different circumstances. But there weren’t many people worth trusting, at least not anymore.

“You’re still a stranger.”

The Doctor nods, scratching at his chin. “Fair enough.” Something about the grown man’s cluelessness. The right corner of Oliver’s lip twitched, threatening to curve upward. He started gesticulating again, moving his hands about as he spoke. “Answer me this then where is everyone else?”

His brain stuttered for a moment, his face fell, and the blood drained from his face, leaving him as pale as a sheet. He recomposed himself, adopting a more stoic expression.

“Home,” his tone was cold, cold as ice.

“Home?”

The Doctor observes Oliver’s shift in manner with calculative eyes. He leans back, arching a brow. Oliver only nods in response. However, he could see it. The Doctor could see it, the fear trying to hide in the corners of the blonde child’s eyes.

He’d figure that out later, for now…

“Tell me, why should we be wary of the mist?”

Oliver scratched the back of his head. His eyes struggled to focus on one point. Again, they settled on the Moors. His stomach twisted and sunk with his nerves, as he gripped the fabric of his shirt tightly, wrapping it around his hand.

“Hard to see, you could get lost.”

The Doctor squatted, so that his eyes were level with Oliver’s. He carefully studied Oliver’s face as he lowered his mouth. He went to speak, but Amy, she spoke first.

“Have people gotten lost?”

Thud.

This time his muscles become tense. “I-- I better get inside,” he stammered, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder. His unsettled eyes shift down to the ground, avoiding the watchful looks of the Doctor and his companion. Oliver cleared his throat and then croaked out.

“You should get back home, before it’s too late.”

Without another word, he shut the door, leaving the Doctor and Amy in the chill of dusk.

Oliver was silent as he fell back against the front door. The tick of the grandfather clock at the top of the stairs felt louder than before. As the full realisation of his conversation sank in, he ran his hands down his face. A loud groan of frustration flowed past his lips.

It’s foolish to trust, he reminded himself, for no one knows what the mist does hide.

A small whine snapped him out of his stupor. He immediately stood. Sophia stood one step from the top of the stairs. She wore a puzzled expression. Oliver rolled his eyes, his brows creased, and he put on a fake smile.

“It was no one,” he lied, dismissively waving a hand in the air. Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “It was no one Sophia, leave it alone.” He insisted, trying to laugh the matter off.

“Now, I have some work to finish.” He said as he moved toward the drawing room. As far as he was concerned, the matter of who was at the door was finished. His mouth twitched into a genuine smile, and his tone softened. “If you’d like, you can color at the desk while I work.”

Sophia shook her head, gesturing with an arm toward the entire upstairs. “No? Just going to play in the upstairs?” He asked. She nodded, making her ginger tresses bounce. “By yourself? Are you sure?” The way her one dimple crinkled, the shifting of her freckles, gave him his answer.

“Fine, have fun, bed in an hour.” Oliver brushed his fingers through his hair, strolling into the drawing room.

Sophia brought a hand to her mouth, then blew him a sloppy kiss. Hearing the noise of the peck from the other side of the archway, Oliver bent an arm back through the doorway to catch it. He cast his head back through the opening, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Love you too Soph a loaf. Lots and lots.” he gently laughed. “You be good,” he reminded moving into the drawing room.

“And Sophia,” His tone became serious, and resigned. “Let's stay out of the master room.”

[mermaidxatxheart]

Dressed for Dinner

Alright, I know I promised a naughty one the other day, but things got away from me. So here it is. If you’re under 18, turn around right now. Go back. Don’t get me in trouble. Also, Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates! I hope you have a fantastic day with family and friends. Eat lots of good food for me :)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 2790

Warnings: Smut. Doctor/Nurse kink, if you squint. Swearing, Oral (female receiving) sexy times. No angst, shocker, I know. Unprotected sex

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with your coworker for a while, no strings attached. He has certain plans for you after work one night.

“Don’t you think Doctor Barnes is gorgeous?” Emily drools, watching the surgeon from across the nurse’s station. “So....dreamy.”

 “Sure, who doesn’t?” You shrug, barely glancing up at the man. He’s 6’1 of solid muscle and the way he fills out those scrubs is just beautiful. 

“He doesn’t distract you?” She turns to look at you.

 “If he distracts me, patients die. So, no.” You flip through the medical file in front of you, making notations.

 “But he’s so...”

 “If you say distracting, I’ll smack you.”

 “Perfect?” She changes tactics and you snort.

 “With that ego?”

 “With that skill, and that ass? He can have that ego.” She gushes.

 “You’re hopeless. Also, you have patients to check on. Shouldn’t you be going?”

 “Fine. Party pooper.” She rolls her eyes and pushes off the counter.

 “That’s me, Miss Boring.” You mutter under your breath.

 “Who said you’re boring?” A deep voice says behind you, making you jump. 

 You turn to see James Buchanan Barnes leaning against the counter, arms and legs crossed as he smirks at you.

 “I did. And don’t sneak up behind people, Bucky.” You say, turning back to your files. 

 “Am I allowed to disagree with your assessment?”

 You snap the file shut and replace it in the binder. “You’re the Doctor. I’m just a nurse.” You start to walk away and he catches up easily with you. 

 “Do you know why I got into medicine in the first place?”

 “To help people?” You guess, rounding a corner.

 He snorts. “Yeah right. The nurses. I’ve always had a definite thing for nurses.” 

 You roll your eyes. “So original.” You snipe. 

 He pushes you into an on-call room and locks the door behind you.

 “Hey!”

 “Just shut up.” He pushes you against the wall and kisses you hard, his muscular arms wrapping around you and lifting you up.

 “We can’t keep doing this.” You moan as he kisses his way down your neck.

 “Why not?”

 “We’re going to get caught.”

 “That’d be fun. Let them watch.” He breathes against your neck.

 You pull back and look at him. “You think you know a guy.”

 He grins. “You don’t think so?”

 “I think that for one day you can keep it in your pants.” 

 “But it likes being in your pants so much better.” He grins, kissing you again.

 Shit, he’s a good kisser. 

 “You still owe me dinner for last night.”

 He groans and sets you down. “Fine. Dinner? My place? And then cardio after.”

 “If you’re nice, we can even do cardio before.”

 “You certainly know how to get me.” He grins. “I’ll meet you at my place.” He presses you into the wall and kisses you like a man half starved. He leaves you breathless and slips out the door. 

 “Fuck me.” You mutter, taking a second to collect yourself.

  Bucky left work before your shift was over, but that was fine. You don’t want people seeing you leaving together. So far, you both had maintained professionalism at work and no one was the wiser that you had been sleeping together for months. 

 You wanted it to stay that way.

 You drove to your place, took a quick shower and changed into your sexiest lingerie. Remembering what Bucky had said about nurses, you change into a clean pair of scrubs and stuff other clothes into your duffle bag. You skip out to your car and make the long drive to Bucky’s place. You knock on his door and he yanks it open, pulling you inside.

 “You kept me waiting.” He growls, pushing you against the wall in the hallway.

 You don’t bother to reply, instead, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. He breaks away long enough to peel off your shirt and groans as he looks at you.

 “Why don’t you wear these at work?” He fingers the strap of your bra.

 “Because you’d never let me leave the on-call room.” You roll your eyes, shimmying out of your pants.

 He steps back and watches with a sigh. “It’s really not fair how gorgeous you are.”

 “Are you going to stand there and whine or are you going to fuck me?” 

 He grins and scoops you up over his muscular shoulder. “Since you asked so nicely.”

 “You’re such a Neanderthal.” You mutter, but that doesn’t stop you from admiring the view or the way his muscles move under you.

 He dumps you on his bed and strips in probably what’s record time. Jesus, he’s beautiful. Solid muscle corded under his tan skin. Broad shoulders that you can’t help but cling to as he drives you higher and higher, leading down to narrow, powerful hips. Just thinking about how they pull back and snap forward into you already has you wet. And don’t even start about what’s hanging between his legs. Some guys just get all the genetic gifts, life isn’t fair like that.

 He grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself to his knees.

 “I thought-” you start, looking down at him.

 “You thought I just wanted a quickie?” He grins, slowly peeling the lace off you.

 “It’s hardly quick with you.”

 He laughs, draping your legs over his shoulders. “I enjoy your reactions to all the skills I have to offer. Also, you’re delicious, and I’ve been drooling about this all day.” He hooks his arms around your thighs, spreading your lips.

 You thought you were prepared for his touch; that he’d start slow, but you should have known-he never does as you expect.

 He licks once from your slit to your clit, making you moan before he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.

 “Oh, fuck!” You gasp as his intensity. You feel him grin as he starts flicking his tongue across it fast. You’re writhing on the bed, grinding against his mouth and panting. He knows exactly what he does to you. Your fingers twine in his long hair as he switches sensations. He lets your clit go with a pop and runs his flat tongue over it, lapping at it. The difference between fast and slow is agonizing. 

 Sex has never been this good. All your other partners have been takers. Bucky is definitely a giver and he learned your body quickly. He knows when you’re close, he knows exactly where your sensitive spots are. 

 You have never had to fake anything with him.

 Added bonus, your ‘dates’ consist of dinner at home and insanely great sex. 

 You’re his rebound, and that bugged you at first. But then you realized you got the benefits of dating without any of the fighting or hassle. 

 Just as he’s about to push you over the edge, he lifts his head. “Do you wanna take a break?” He’s grinning at you and you could just punch him.

 “Why the fuck would I want that?”

 He gives a cheeky shrug and takes you right back to the edge. He fluctuates between fast and slow, making you whine before giving you his all. His mouth is hot and needy as he sucks your clit, humming around it like a vibrator. You arch off the bed, hips bucking as you crash over the edge, crying out loudly. 

 He slows down with you, waiting until you’re ready before pulling his head away. “Know what I like about you?” He starts, crawling over top of you before rolling to the side.

 “I’m afraid to even guess.” You reply breathlessly.

 “You don’t talk when you’re cumming. Just gorgeous noises.” He grins, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

 “Listen, if I can form words at that moment, you aren’t really doing your job, are you?” You laugh.

 “Guess not.” He rolls over top of you. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat. I’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

 “You weigh a ton.” You grumble.

 “You never complain about me being on top.” He looks down at you.

 “You’re usually doing something more distracting.” You press your lips against his shoulder, trying to push him off you. 

 “This isn’t distracting enough?” He teases.

 You wiggle around, spreading your legs around his hips. “Not nearly as distracting as what I came over for.” You murmur, reaching down between your bodies to grasp his thick shaft. 

 He moans and pushes himself up, dragging your hand along his length. “Fine, but we’re eating naked.” He pulls you to your feet and your legs wobble slightly, still shaking from his efforts. 

 “Don’t we always?” 

 He turns you around so you’re facing away from him and he unhooks your bra. He slips his hands under the straps and slides it off your shoulders. He kisses along your neck, nibbling your ear as he cups your breasts. You lean back against him as he rubs his thumbs over your nipples.

 “There, now you’re dressed properly.” 

 You snort and pull away, moving through his house to the kitchen. “What did you make for me?”

 “Your favorite. Chicken parmigiana.”

 “Ugh. Say it again. I love when you speak Italian.” 

 “After we eat. Otherwise you’ll jump me in here. And I went to a lot of work.”

 “Fine.” Your stomach rumbles as he hands you a plate. “I never asked, where did you learn to cook?” You ask, grabbing a knife and fork. 

 “If you wanna eat, you have to cook. My dad was never a very good cook so I learned how so my sister and I wouldn’t starve.”

 You take a seat and begin to eat, savoring his wonderful cooking. “Do you have surgery early tomorrow?” You ask as he sits next to you. 

 “Ten. You’re staying over, don’t even think you’re getting off that easy.” 

 “It’s usually pretty easy with you.” You smirk and he nudges your arm. 

 You finish eating and take your plate to the sink. You’ve been to his place plenty of times in the past few months, enough to feel comfortable. You head for the bathroom in the master suite.

 When you emerge a few minutes later, the windows have been opened wide, letting in the cool sea breeze and the sounds of the waves crashing. Bucky is sprawled on the bed, one arm propped behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. 

 This is supposed to just be a no strings attached thing, but you can’t help but feel affection for the big man. He never fails to make you laugh, he can cook, the sex is amazing, and as far as you know, he doesn’t sleep around. 

 You cross the room and climb on the bed, straddling his thighs. His big hands rest on your hips and you lean forward, kissing him softly. His hands slide over your smooth skin to grip your ass, pulling you closer. You drag your fingernails over his scalp as he lines his shaft up with your slit. 

 You lower your hips, feeling his swollen head spread your lips and pop past your entrance with a satisfying pressure. You let out a soft moan against his mouth as you swivel your hips, lowering yourself nearly completely onto his shaft. He’s at the very end of your passage and there’s still over an inch to go. You’re breathing hard from the effort, hands braces against his deliciously broad shoulders.

 “Fuck, woman. You are so tight.” He growls, kissing you hard. 

 You clench your walls around him experimentally. He moans and rocks his hips up, pushing past your cervix. Heat, burning pleasure sears across your body, igniting your nerves.

 “Fuck.” You gasp.

 “We’re about to.” He grins, holding you tight against his body, beginning to rock his hips up, thrusting into you. 

 You have a scathing reply ready, but his steady strokes take your breath away. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, panting heavily. He grips your ass, his long fingers dragging on your skin as he picks up his pace. Little mewls escape as he thrusts faster and faster. His rhythm is perfect, too perfect for you to even move.

 Your inner walls flutter and spasm around him and he moans in your ear. The sound of his pleasure, of you giving him pleasure pushes you over the edge. You climax, head tipping back as your breath catches in your throat. He fucks you through it, the overwhelming pleasure freezing your body. 

 He slows, letting you catch your breath. “Still with me, gorgeous?” He brushes your hair back from your face. It clings to the sheen on your skin as you nod. 

 “Always.” You gasp.

 He kisses you deeply, rolling you over so that he hovers on top of you. He holds himself off you so you don’t feel much of his weight, but you crave it. 

 You want all of him. 

 You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper. You’re so full, stretching so much and you still want more. The sounds of the waves on the beach and his breaths in your ear and you’re lost in pure bliss. 

 He lowers himself to his elbows and you can feel his weight. He’s so muscular and fuck, he feels so good on top of you. His legs are tucked under your thighs as his hips snap forward faster and faster and he’s just as lost as you.

 “Bucky.”

 You don’t think you spoke, it’s not like you to be able to form words at a moment like this. Your eyes fly open and you look over his shoulder at the doorway, a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

 “I love you.” He breathes in your ear as you hear his name again.

 You cling to his shoulders, legs locked tight around his waist, eyes trained on the door as a beautiful woman steps into the doorway. You gasp as he picks up the pace, bordering on blistering as he buries his face in your neck, pressing kisses everywhere he can reach.

 “Fuck. I love you. How are you so perfect?” He moans, dragging loud moans from you as you stare at the woman. 

 She looks mortified but you can’t bring yourself to make Bucky stop. You can feel how close he is, you’re about to join him. 

 You turn your face to his, pulling his mouth towards yours. “I love you, too.” You gasp, kissing him. 

 His pace falters and within a few strokes he roots himself deep inside you, cumming with a growl. You can feel him pulsating as he pumps rope after rope inside, pushing you over the edge. You orgasm with a cry, your nails dragging on his muscular back as you arch into his chest. 

 “Bucky,” You gasp, tapping his shoulder, remembering the woman.

 He follows your gaze and sighs. “Way to ruin my night.” He mutters. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He presses a lingering kiss to your lips before pushing himself off you. He grabs his boxers off the floor, pulling them on quickly before grabbing the woman by her arm and forcing her out the door. 

 You slide off the bed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on before creeping to the door. You listen intently, wondering who she is. He certainly didn’t seem happy to see her.

 “You have to stop showing up here like this. You broke up with me. You shouldn’t even have a key anymore.”

 “Who is she?” The woman asks.

 “None of your business. Your only concern is driving home safely.”

 “Do you really love her? Or is that just something men say when a young pussy feels good?”

 “Not that it matters for you, but yes, I do. Didn’t plan on it, but there you have it. Now, will you leave so I can go fuck her again?” He snaps. There’s a slight pause and he snorts. “She doesn’t really like to share. I’m all hers now.”

 “Fine. Call me when you get bored of her.” The sound of the door shutting reaches you and you hurry back to the bed, your heart swelling. You lay across the bed on your stomach, pretending to examine your nails. 

 “How much of that did you hear?” He asks and you fake jump, turning to look over your shoulder.

 “I heard nothing.” You say and he snorts, climbing back onto the bed. 

 He lays the right way and gestures for you to join him. You crawl over and rest against his side, your head on his chest. 

 “I know you were listening.” His fingers are light on your bare arm, tickling you. “I meant every word.”

 You lean up and kiss him. “So did I. Let me know when you’re ready for round two. I can go all night with you.”

 He groans and pulls you on top of him. “Good.”

Tags:

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[ioncewaspoison-ivy]

I Want To Dance With Somebody Pt.3 (Charlie Gillespie x Fem! Reader)

Author: Alex / @ioncewaspoison-ivy​

Part 1 / Part 2

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: I’m back! I’ve been uber busy but finally had the time to finish this up. I hope y’all like it.

Warnings: brief mentions of anxiety + a past injury

The Julie and the Phantoms crowd had been able to go back to their own rehearsal space the day after Charlie had given you his number.

As a result, you hadn’t seen him in a couple weeks, so things had kind of gone back to normal. Well, with the added bonus of texting with Charlie and sometimes talking on nights when he wasn’t tired from rehearsing and filming.

You were in the middle of leading a rehearsal for the senior company when your phone rang.

You quickly declined the call and made sure your ringer was off before turning to the annoyed students in front of you.

Before you could get back into rehearsal, your phone rang again. Exasperated, you decided to see who it was.

It was Charlie. But why would he be calling you in the middle of rehearsal? You knew he was filming that day.

“Do you need to take that?” one of your senior girls asked.

“Briefly, yes,” you said, turning away from your students to accept the phone call.

“Charlie—“

“Y/N, thank god you picked up,” Charlie said.

“What’s going on? I’m in the middle of—“

Charlie’s voice was replaced by Kenny’s.

“Y/N? Hey—it’s Kenny. Are you busy right now?”

“Well—“

“No? Good. I’m sending a car to the studio to pick you up. Be out front in like 10 minutes.”

Before you could say another word Kenny had hung up. You looked at your phone in bewilderment, and then looked up to see your students staring at you.

“I swear this will never happen again, but Emma could you please lead the group through the rest of rehearsal? It sounds like I’m being summoned to the set of a TV show for some reason.”

The girl in question nodded, and you made sure everything was set for her before heading out.

“Kenny Ortega is sending a car for me,” you said to Zach. “Kenny freakin’ Ortega is sending a car. For me.”

“Do you know why?” Zach asked, his eyes gleaming in excitement.

“No. Not at all. He basically said he was sending a car for me and then just hung up.”

“Oooh this is exciting!! I expect to hear everything when you get back. I’ll keep an extra eye on rehearsal for you.

“Thank you so much! See you later!” you said, heading out the door when you saw a car pull up to the studio.

“Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” the driver asked.

“Yes that’s me.” You replied.

“Good. I’m in the right place. Kenny Ortega sent me.”

“Cool,” you said, getting in the car. “You wouldn’t happen to know why they called me do you?”

“No ma’am. They just gave me directions and your name and told me to come pick you up.”

“Hmmmm….”

You felt yourself getting anxious, and the car ride seemed to pass in no time at all.

When you pulled up to the building where they were filming, Charlie was outside waiting for you.

“Charlie what’s happening? Why did I get pulled out of rehearsal?” you asked while hopping out of the car.

He just smiled at you and led you inside.

You gaped when you saw the set, but before you could really process any of it Kenny had practically run up to you.

“Oh good, Y/N you’re here. We need to get you measured and then in hair and makeup and then we can get this show on the road.” Kenny said while leading you to what appeared to be a wardrobe area.

“Angela, Kelly, this is Y/N, the one whose measurements we need for Halle’s costume. Will y’all do your thing and then make sure she finds her way to hair and makeup.”

Angela and Kelly grabbed tape measures and came toward you, stopping to glare at Charlie who then turned around.

Given a moment to breathe, you asked Charlie what the heck was going on.

“Well....Halle woke up with a 102 degree fever and has thrown up twice this morning. Kenny doesn’t want her getting any of us sick, but we’ll also fall behind schedule if we don’t get any of the ‘All Eyes On Me,’ scene filmed today. So when Kenny was panicking about a stand-in I reminded him that you had stood in while rehearsing,” he said.

“Wait so you’re saying there’s a chance I could be on a TV show??”

“Well, Netflix show, but yeah...”

“I can’t be on TV. I can’t dance on TV. I’m just a dance teacher. I haven’t really performed in years. Not since....” you felt yourself starting to hyperventilate.

You didn’t notice Charlie shoo the wardrobe ladies out of the room.

“Since what, Y/N?” he asked.

You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s just me. You can tell me,” Charlie said, putting a steadying hand on your shoulder.

“Well, the last time I was dancing full-time as a student and performer, I thought I was invincible. I danced on an injured knee for a month, and then the night of an important showcase, I collapsed on stage, and had to be taken for knee surgery,” you said, getting emotional in the process of remembering that night.

Charlie visibly winced. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. My knee is all but fine now, but ever since then I just haven’t been interested in performing. Zach coaxed me into teaching for him and I fell in love with it.”

“Well that’s a shame, because the world deserves to see how talented you are.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I wouldn’t have even mentioned it to Kenny if I didn’t think you could do a good job.”

You gave him a look as if to say “Really?”

“I swear. Now how about it?” he asked, standing up and offering you a hand. You didn’t even remember sitting down.

Taking a deep breath, you motioned for Charlie to call the costume ladies back in.

As you went through the motions of getting measured and then doing hair and make-up, your faint scar was barely brought to attention except for to cover it with some make-up.

All too soon the costume was ready and the wig was carefully on, and it was time to go get ready.

Tori was waiting for you outside hair and make-up, and the three of you walked to the set.

With every step you felt yourself getting more anxious.

Seeming to sense this, Charlie put an arm around you and said “You’re gonna do great, Y/N.”

“Yes you are. And thank you for doing this on such short notice.” Tori echoed.

You gave both of them a small smile as you walked up to the stage where you would be filming.

You went to join your fellow dancers, who all greeted you.

“Do we have time to do a quick stretch Tori?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah of course,” she replied cheerily. “That’s a great idea.”

“Kenny!” she called. “Can we have 10 minutes to stretch and then run through the number once before we get rolling?”

“I’m setting a timer, but yes.” the man said.

“Great!” she said, giving him two thumbs up.

“Y/N, you wanna lead us through a quick stretch out and then Savannah and I will lead us through the dance.”

“Sure,” you said, happy to have something to focus on.

You fell into it naturally, using a routine you used with your students.

It made Charlie smile to see you so clearly in your element.

Kenny’s timer went off right as you had finished your run through.

“Positions people. We’re doing this full out with Owen too.”

The blonde boy perked up when he heard his name, nodding at the director.

You took a deep breath and shook out your nerves.

“‘All Eyes On Me,’”Kenny called, doing the slate board to signal the start of the take. “Let’s roll.”

Once you were off to the races, it came easy. Except for the whole “having to pretend Owen wasn’t there” part. That took a bit of getting used to.

Charlie’s eyes were glued to you whenever the camera wasn’t on him, which earned him some teasing from his cast mates.

What felt like an hour turned out to be 4 or so before Kenny called wrap on the scene.

“You did great, Y/N,” Charlie said, stopping you on your way to get changed.

“Thanks,” you replied, smiling at him.

You were halfway to your destination when Charlie stopped you again. Based on how out of breath he sounded, you assumed he had run to catch up with you.

“Hey, Y/N, there was something I wanted to ask you.” the boy said, his normally energetic demeanor gone.

“What’s up, Gillespie?” you asked.

“Well...I was wondering if you might want to go to dinner sometime...with me?” he asked, appearing to you to be bashful.

After getting over your initial shock, you asked “Like a date?”

“W-well, I-I mean it doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be but I would like it to be but only if you would.” he rushed out, tripping over his words.

“Relax, Gillespie. I would love that.”

You both beamed at each other until Charlie got a text.

“They’re asking for me,” he said, seeming apologetic.

“Go. I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’ll text you later about our date?” he asked.

“Sounds good. Now go!” you replied, nudging him back in the direction of set.

After you were sure that he was out of sight, you skipped back to your car.

Little did you know he was doing a happy dance of his own. His friends whooping and hollering when they saw his facial expression.

You called Zach when you got back to car and told him everything. He relented that that was an okay excuse for leaving in the middle of a class.

You were on Cloud 9, and nothing could bring you down.

Taglist: @i-love-daniel-seavey @deni-gonzalez​

[holyyrose]

And They Were Roommates - H.H

A/N: This has been in my drafts for a long time and I’ve been in love with this concept for a while, but apparently I struggle to string a simple sentence together lately lmao.

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Roommate AU/Collage AU - The Reader is strapped for cash and much to their dismay Hyunjin seems to be the only one who can help.

Part One / ?

Word Count: 1809

______

“What do you mean you can’t pay the rent, I thought Minho was paying half? He is your roommate after all.” Seungmin questioned, as Y/N, Seungmin long term best friend followed him into a café, thankful that this place had warmth, which contrasted significantly to the weather outside that had nipped at her skin, making her deeply regretful for leaving her apartment this morning without a coat.

After a long day of work, Seungmin became fed up with disorderly customers that came with working in retail and was in desperate need for a break. Therefore, as Y/N’s self-proclaimed best friend, he took it upon himself to interrupt her studies and insist that she meet him at a café in the centre of town. Much to her dismay, he insisted she come instantly, meaning the work she had left far too late to start, would be put off once again, probably not to be completed until late night with yet another caffeinated drink buzzing through her system, but  being equally exhausted and frustrated, she agreed, hurrying out of her small apartment to meet Seungmin.

“He was.” She has exasperated, moving along the queue alongside Seungmin, pulling out her purse so she could pay for her order, however, Seungmin had waved her off, insisting he’d pay.  “So, he just stopped giving you his rent money without any warning?” His face scrunched up with distort, confused by what it seemed she was insinuating.

“What? No. Minho would never. His mother had knee surgery a few weeks ago and she’s been struggling with the recovery. Minho thought it would be best if he moved back in with her for a few months, considering his father works away a lot. I couldn’t tell him that without him living with me, I wouldn’t be able to afford this apartment.” Seungmin sighed at her remark. Grabbing their drinks from the barista, he made his way over to the sofa that was nestled in the corner of the cafe, with fairy lights strung between bookshelves, creating a welcoming and content environment.

“Things haven’t been too great for him. He lost his job at the music store because they went bankrupt then his mum needed surgery. I couldn’t do it to him.” She continued, letting out a low sigh before slumping back into the sofa, letting the plush pillows welcome her. A part of her feeling idiotic for not telling Minho, even more foolish when the words were coming out of her mouth, but it didn’t feel right. She couldn’t burden Minho even more. However, it was evident how strapped for cash she was therefore, she was relieved when Seungmin had decided to pay for her drink.

“You’re too nice y/n/n,” Seungmin laughed, sliding her coffee across the table. “You need to be more direct.”

“This isn’t funny, ok. I need your help, not your laughter.”

“What you need is to find a temporary roommate, someone who can afford to pick up the rent when you’re short.” He continued, rolling his eyes.

“You know,” He paused, drawing out his words. “I happen to know that Hyunjin is looking for an apartment, he has the cash, quite a lot if I do say so myself and-”

“No, no!” She had exclaimed, cutting him off completely.  “Anybody but Hyunjin. You know I can’t stand him.” She exasperated, looking at Seungmin pointedly.

“His house got infested by rats. He needs a place to stay. He’s currently crashing Chan’s sofa because he doesn’t have a spare room, but I’m sure he’d appreciate sleeping on an actual bed.”

“Absolutely not!” She contested, as she took a sip of her drink.

“I’ve overheard him telling Chan and Jisung about those dumb parties he throws, and I can’t afford to lose my deposit on this place.”

“You know what, I take it back. You’re awful y/n/n,” He laughed, shaking his head. “You barely know the guy, I’m sure he’ll respect your decision to be boring.” Seungmin smirked, knowing how easy it was to annoy her. He rummaged through his bag, pulling out his phone before typing away. Her phone lit up, alerting her of a text.

“Here is his number. I know you’re too stubborn to admit it, but you’re desperate and Hyunjin can help you.”

She tried to ignore Seungmin’s stare by looking down at her coffee and fiddling with the lid.

“I don’t hate him.” She had murmured. “Try despise.”

“Y/n/n!” Seungmin exclaimed, furrowing his brows. “You can be so difficult sometimes.”  

“Ok, I’m sorry.” She sighed, holding her hands up in defence. “He’s just so arrogant ok.”

“He’s one of my best friends, Y/n/n, please consider it. I know you find him infuriating. I do sometimes, but he has the cash and he’s currently sleeping on Chan’s couch, at least feel some sympathy for him.”

“Sorry for Chan.” A few moments had past and Seungmin had yet to speak. The silence was deafening, and he knew that.

 “Ok!” Sitting up straight, Y/N hoped to cut the tension. “Give me a few days and I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Seungmin smiled, changing his demeanour instantly. “Now let me tell you about what a shitty day I’ve had.”

Day’s seemed to have passed like lightning, Y/N easily becoming consumed by work. It seemed finding another source of income had gone to the back of Y/N’s mind. Instead, deadlines and reading had become the forefront of worry. Although her rent was due in a matter of days, she had pushed to the back of her mind hoping that if she ignored it long enough it would just go away. It seemed that balancing getting a degree and a part-time job as a hotel receptionist was becoming increasingly harder, especially when she had to pick up twice as many shifts as possible to ensure she had enough money to live. Luckily her boss allowed her to do some work during the graveyard shifts as it seemed not many people need to check-in at 2 in the morning, however, maintaining these shifts did mean an unhealthy sleeping pattern which took an overall negative impact on her day to day life. Perhaps ignoring her problems wasn’t the answer.

The day had been long, a 7-hour shift on her day off from University was usually fine, but with the little amount of sleep she had consumed over the past few weeks had started to take a toll on her well-being. Therefore, when she entered her apartment to find heaps of boxes scattered everywhere and 3 boys lounging on her sofa, she deemed it to be a hallucination.

“Ahh, there she is! Y/n/n! How are you?” The voice of her self-proclaimed best his friend, Seungmin, had snapped her out of her thoughts, making her realise this was not, in fact, a hallucination, but real life.

“What are you guys doing here?” She questioned, stunned by the unexpected appearance of Seungmin, Jisung and Chan.

“Erm.” Chan had started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, almost as if he found himself caught red-handed.

“And what are these boxes doing here?” Stepping closer, she kicked the side of a box, regretting it instantly, as her foot collided with the hard surface, causing her to let out a string of profanities.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that sweetheart.”

This particular voice had caught her attention, causing her to freeze and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. Meeting the gaze of this unknown voice, she felt dread coarse through your veins.

Hyunjin.

“I’m moving in, what do you think it looks like?” Moving further into the room. Hyunjin appeared in full glory, a smirked staining his lips. He brushed past her, nonchalantly, picking up the box she had just kicked and turning to walk towards Minho’s old room.

“I never officially said you could move in.” She yelled, exasperated by his presence, hurrying past the three lounging boys on the sofa who appeared amused by this interaction, groaning as she pushed past their dangling legs to follow Hyunjin into Minho’s room, who had already unpacked most of his belongings.  

“Well I was getting a little impatient waiting for you to make up your mind and Seungmin here said it would be no problem.”

“Excuse me?” Spinning on her heel, she looked directly at Seungmin who, alongside Jisung and Chan had followed you into Minho’s room. If looks could kill, everyone in the room would be 6 feet under. Looking around, Minho’s room was looking extremely different than the last time she had stepped foot in here. If she was to admit, she hadn’t actually been into Minho’s room for a long time, however, she vaguely remembered photos of his cats which stood proudly on his shelf and memorabilia from concerts they had attended together streamed across his dresser had been replaced with a large bottle of vodka and small trinkets. Most of the stuff she didn’t recognise, but the posters that littered the wall caught her attention. They were almost like Minho’s, but Hyunjin’s taste seemed to vary. His taste seemed to be a little darker.  Seungmin froze at Y/N’s exclamation, stunned by her outburst.  

“You heard me, sweetheart.” Hyunjin pressed, smirking slightly, almost as if he was thriving off her irritation.  

Her face heated at his remark.

“I can’t believe you three are letting him do this.”

“You need the money,” Jisung started, slowly moving from behind Chan, raising his hands in surrender. “And you can’t keep this up.”

She shrugged him off and crossed her arms. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”

“It isn’t healthy,” Chan interjected. “And Hyunjin here has money.”

“I don’t care if he has money, I don’t want him living here.”

“You look a mess.”

“Excuse me!” She gasped, turning to face Seungmin, who had appeared next to her. He let out a small cough before continuing.

“What I mean is, you’re exhausted, and you can’t keep pulling extra shifts just to get enough cash. You’re a student and have a lot of responsibilities, so I think it’s only right for us as your friends.” Seungmin spoke, gesturing to surrounding group.

“Hyunjin isn’t my friend.”

“That’s a little harsh don’t you think?” Hyunjin laughed, as he flattened one of the boxes that had previously held his belongings. 

“As your friends,” Seungmin continued, becoming irritated by her stubbornness. “We think it’s only right for us to intervene when we think necessary.” Scoffing, she turned to leave the room, refusing to hear the reality of the situation.

“I’ve already paid 3 months of rent in advance, including your half, so it looks like you’re stuck with me sweetheart.”

She stepped forward, yanking the piece of card out of Hyunjin’s hands, huffing as she did so, but not before saying, “3 months. That’s it. But one slip up, and you’re gone.”

[princessselene126]

Wedding of the Era 2: If Looks Could Kill

Someone requested “Kai reassuring Cinder she doesn’t need to change now that she’s royalty and just comforting her and being protective when people start asking questions as well as him being able to tell when she’s lying and saying that she’s ‘fine.’” I decided to make it part of this series because it felt like it fit well. The press conference takes place about a week before the wedding. 1177 words of Kai being a supportive fiance. 

Wedding of the Era Masterlist Masterlist 

 Cinder watched the replay of last night’s press conference on the screen in Kai’s suite. Holding her breath, she waited for the exact moment she knew was coming. It didn’t take long, it was one of the first questions a reporter asked yesterday.

“Will the former Queen Selene be getting a bioelectricity security block implanted before her coronation as empress?”

Now normally, that would be a valid question, even Cinder had to admit that. She wouldn’t want someone like Levana coming into power again. She wouldn’t want someone to use their glamour to manipulate foreign dignitaries or parliament or citizens. What irked her--and what irked Kai--about it was how the reporter asked the question. 

The man didn’t say it kindly. Instead he spoke with an air of ignorance, purposely trying to twist a knife into her gut.

On the screen, Kai’s face immediately turned dark. 

Aces, that reporter was in for it. 

Kai maintained a diplomatic tone, but even people who didn’t know him personally would have been able to tell that he was fighting everything inside himself to keep his cool. 

“Her Majesty already had a BSB implanted when she was undergoing her cybernetic surgeries. The device was deactivated three years ago by a doctor here at the palace. Though getting the implant is a simple procedure, reactivating or replacing them is more difficult and would put Her Majesty at risk. She, myself, and several doctors have agreed that the costs of doing so would not be worth the risk, and therefore we have all decided not to reactivate or install a new BSB.”

“Aren’t you concerned about her glamouring you?” The reporter pressed.

And Cinder watched as those few words pushed her fiance over the edge of politeness. His eyes narrowed in anger and his voice grew deeper than she’d ever heard it before. If looks could kill that reporter would have exploded.

“Linh Cinder, Queen Selene, whatever title you want to use for my fiancee, has done nothing but help this nation, this planet, and this solar system. She never wanted to be Queen of Luna but she did it anyway. And instead of appointing a new monarch, or ruling Luna until her death, she turned it into a republic, allowing the people to decide who they wanted as a leader the same way Earthen nations do through our presidents, prime ministers, or parliaments.

“During the revolution, she only ever used her glamour for the greater good. These days she only uses it with the consent of others to prevent herself from getting lunar sickness. If I had any concerns about her intentions or motivations in our marriage, I would not have asked her to marry me. She is not Queen Levana. She is not a tyrant holding an alliance over our heads in exchange for necessary resources to save lives.

“All this information has been available for the last six months. So next time you attend a press conference, Mr. Yu, I suggest you do some research beforehand, so you don’t ask questions that have already been answered.”

The sea of journalists waved their hands and shouted out more questions, but Cinder didn’t pay attention to much else after that point. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the couch.

A different sigh came from behind her, “Why are you watching this, Cinder?”

She kept her eyes closed even as the netscreen went mute and the couch dipped under the weight of Kai taking a seat beside her.

“Wanted to watch you tear Yu a new one again.”

“We both know that’s not true,” he said softly. “I mean, it is pretty entertaining to watch, but we both know that’s not why you’re watching it.”

Her eyes cracked open to peek at him to her right. “Then why am I watching it, oh wise one?” Was she getting sarcastic as a defense mechanism? Of course she was, she didn’t want to talk about this right now.

“You’re watching it because you think he’s right.”

She scoffed, trying to pretend it wasn’t true. Opening her eyes all the way, she sat up, tucked her knees beneath her, and faced him. “I don’t think he’s right. I think he’s arrogant and ignorant.”

“Cinder,” he said again. It was that voice she hated and loved at the same time. Hated because it meant he knew exactly what she was thinking, loved because it meant he was going to do something about what she was thinking.

“It’s fine, Kai. I really am used to this type of thing.” She held up her left hand and wiggled her metal fingers as if to prove her point.

“I see your face whenever someone says something like that whether it be about you being a cyborg or a lunar. You’re not fine.”

“No,” Cinder agreed. It hurt every time someone stared for too long, or asked questions like that reporter, or implied that she didn’t have feelings. “But I have to be.”

Kai frowned. Reaching out, he took both of her hands and rubbed soothing circles over her knuckles. “You don’t have to pretend like everything is okay when it’s not, Cinder. No one expects you to constantly be a pillar of strength, least of all me. You’re human. We get overwhelmed, we have breakdowns, and other people tear us apart. I know you can’t cry, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get upset with the injustices of the world.”

She felt a headache coming on and carefully shook her head. Nope, wasn’t going away. Cinder took a deep breath, looking down at their hands to avoid his eyes.

“You’re not a monster, Cinder,” he whispered. “I know the world makes you feel like it because some people are terrible and try to blame easy targets for their problems. But you’re not a bad person. You’re the best person I know and I love you so, so much.”

She met his eyes again and gave him a brief smile. “I love you too.”

“I’m trying everything I can, but… legislation isn’t going to be enough to overcome centuries of prejudice, is it?”

“I wish it was.”

“I’m sorry.”

That made her laugh.

Kai looked at her, confused. “What?”

“Apologizing for other people’s shitty prejudices is ridiculous, Kai.”

“That’s why you laughed?”

Her lips pulled into a genuine smile. “Yes. I swear sometimes your heart is too big for your chest, Kai.”

Kai stared at her for a few seconds. “Okay I know what you mean, but at the same time… what the fuck does that mean, Cinder?”

Cinder laughed again, but this time she found herself unable to stop. Her ribs ached yet the headache started to disappear as she leaned forward to rest her head on his shoulder. As she shook with laughter, Kai’s wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her temple.

People were mean and cruel and ignorant sometimes, but so long as Kai and their friends were by her side, she could get through anything. 

[optimistic-violinist]

Lock and Key

Behold, my first JSE fic! Inspired by this post.

Thank you to all those involved: @happysingingturtles, @rogue-of-broken-time, @dapperjack-protection-blog, @kittican, @nightfuryobsessed, @a-septic-mind, and @nofacednerd ((I hope you don’t mind me tagging y’all, please let me know if you do and I’ll fix it)).

Jameson had a side that few people saw. He kept it under lock and key for good reason, but every now and then, there came a reason to let it out.

Jamie knew he probably shouldn’t have followed the others on this particular mission, but he was curious! And sick of being left behind with Schneep whenever anything was deemed “too dangerous.” Besides, he had a bad feeling about this and it turned out his bad feeling was right.

Marvin was passed out cold, floating ominously in the air, black and yellow electricity crawling over him; whatever counter spell had been used against him couldn’t have been a kind one. Jackieboy was slumped against the wall of the warehouse, the red of his suit turning an even darker red at an alarming rate. He was trying to apply pressure to it, but he needed help. And then Chase. Why had Chase come?! The vlogger had been shot in the knee and if he had to guess, he would say his arm was broken too. He was trying to help Jackie as much as he could, but his own wounds were making it difficult.

Jamie finally managed to pull his gaze away to turn and look at the person that had caused all of this.

“You dumb mute, whatcha gonna do?” the thug asked, flanked by three other cronies. “I just took down the city’s hero, greatest magician, and their deadbeat brother. What are you gonna do?”

Jamie figured it wasn’t worth explaining the irony to the man that “dumb” and “mute” could mean the same things. After all, he was just a high level crime boss who had made the poor decision to mess with his family. So Jamie just smiled, held his hand out, and, in a puff of smoke, a rapier appeared.

The man took a startled step back. “What?”

“Have at thee!”

Jameson lunged across the floor, but the man managed to move out of the way. “Not for long!” Jamie thought, and continued his attack. The other thugs were just as surprised by the unexpected turn of events, but finally managed to get their wits together long enough for two of them to pull knives while the other fumbled to reload his gun. They danced around the empty warehouse, Jamie parrying each blow they tried to strike while managing to get in a few of his own. Three against one was hardly fair, but he made it work. After a deft dodge, he got in under one of their guards and ran the crony through.

“One down.”

At this point, the guard he had been keeping an eye on, the one reloading his gun, seemed to finally have got it.

“And that’s enough of that,” Jamie decided. He ducked, dodging the knife that went above his head, and then rolled out from in between the boss and thug, towards the third gang member. As he came up, the rapier in his hand disappeared and was replaced with a baseball bat. He smiled at the wide eyed gunman.

“Toodles.” A solid THWACK knocked the man out cold. He’d be fine. Probably.

JJ turned back to the others who were staring at him in mute horror. The mob boss’s face contorted in anger and he shoved his lackey forward. “Don’t just stand there! Get him!”

JJ smiled. “If you insist.” While rapiers held a certain refined quality, baseball bats had a finesse of their own. “Unwieldy at times though,” he thought as he swung and missed, throwing him off balance, and giving the man an opportunity to strike. The knife just grazed his arm thankfully, but still.

“Now, now. Can’t have that.” Another poof of smoke and this time the bat was replaced with a dragon-headed cane.

“What the hell?” the cronie muttered, looking equally as confused and wary as his boss. Jamie held up a finger and began to twist the dragon head. They all watched him until it popped off, revealing a sword. JJ grinned, holding the dragon head hilt in one hand and the cane in the other and attacked again.

“Now he’s got both!” the thug screeched, trying to retreat. JJ let him, hitting him on the butt firmly with the cane as he ran out of the warehouse, then turn towards the boss.

“Fine! I’ll deal with you myself.” He went to draw his own gun, but a quick rap of the cane on his knuckles made him drop it, and with a nudge from the sword, it went skittering across the floor. JJ let go of the sword and cane and they disappeared as before.

“Oh now what?” the boss moaned. “What is it this time, a bazooka? Or will you fight like a man?” he said, putting his fists up. Jamie pretended to consider this.

“A good show of fake bravado. I mean, why not?” Seeming to decide, he nodded, held up his fists, then made a show of brushing and blowing them off, when, as expected, there was a puff of smoke, and he was now wearing brass knuckles. The mob boss groaned while Jamie just grinned and started in with a mean jab.

“I forgot how much fun fisticuffs are.”  It was almost laughable how bad this guy was. Sure, against another untrained fellow he would be pretty good, but against someone like Jameson who actually knew how to box? No chance.

He knocked the guy in the jaw with a mean left hook and followed up with a solid uppercut that sent the man sailing. He landed with a hard thud on the ground and groaned. JJ walked over, watching him struggle to get up, and grabbed him by the collar and just let him dangle. The man struggled a bit, but his eyes were still rolling in his head from those last two punches. JJ smirked, and pulled his fist back, winding it up, before socking the guy in the stomach and letting him drop.

He knelt down next to him and took satisfactory note of the blood stain that was now spreading over the man’s abdomen. JJ blew off his knuckles and the poison ring that now protruded from the brass.

“Don’t you or your friends ever mess with my family again.”

Jameson stood and took a deep breath. Time to put all that under lock and key again. The brass knuckles vanished and he quickly jogged over to where Chase and Jackie were waiting.

“Jamie?” Chase asked incredulously. “What was that? Are you alright? I ju- agh!”

“Easy there, easy.”

“I called Schneeplestein,” Chase groaned. “You were… good distraction. How’d you… where’d you…”

“It doesn’t matter now. What matters is you three. Jackie? You with us?”

“Mmmm, hey Jay.” JJ quickly applied his own hands to the wound. “I’ll be fine. Had worse.”

“It’ll all be okay,” Jamie reassured them and tried to believe it himself.

Later that night, all of them were back home. Chase sat on the sofa, flipping through channels, one arm now in a sling and his leg in a cast after a successful surgery. Recovery wouldn’t be quick, but it would happen.

Jackie was asleep in Schneep’s lab with the doctor keeping a close eye on him. He had lost a lot of blood, but they got to him in time and Henrick assured them that he too would make a full recovery.

Marvin on the other hand was currently bobbing against the ceiling like a lost balloon. Jameson sat at the kitchen table, flipping through one of the magician’s spell books, trying to find a solution.

“Can’t you just do your magic thing?” Chase asked, leaning back, craning to see them.

“My magic thing?”

“Yeah, like you did today, just making things appear.” JJ smirked.

“Unfortunately I don’t think it would work in this case. That’s about the only magic I can do.”

Chase relaxed, looking back to the TV. “Fair enough. You have got to teach me how to swordfight sometime though.”

Jamie chuckled and went back to searching. Would verbal spells even work if he couldn’t speak? Who knew.

“This one looks promising.” He held up a hand and began to mentally chant the incantation, and nearly toppled his chair in surprise as Marvin came crashing down on the kitchen table. Chase jumped and Schneep burst out of the lab to see what was going on. Marvin groaned and sat up, barely managing to not fall off the table. Jamie couldn’t help it; he started to laugh and couldn’t seem to stop.

“What happened?” Marvin muttered, finding his way into a chair.

Jamie was in no position to answer, so Chase and the doctor filled him in. JJ finally stopped laughing just in time to hear Chase say,

“You should’ve seen Jamie though! Who knew he had so much fight in him! You might have a new magic apprentice there Marv.”

JJ coughed awkwardly and brushed himself off. “Twas nothing really. I can just get… a bit heated in the moment. See red, go off my rocker, that sort of thing.”

“He hit a guy with a baseball bat Marv,” Chase whispered, sounding far too excited.

“Where’d he get the baseball bat from?”

“Made it appear! Out of thin air!”

Marvin gave him an appraising, if dubious look. “Really?”

Sighing, knowing there was no way he would hear the end of it, JJ held out his hand and his baseball bat appeared. Marvin’s eyes grew wide.

“No way. You didn’t even say a spell or anything!”

JJ shrugged and the bat disappeared. “I had to mentally chant the incantation that fixed you, but it seemed to work just fine.”

“That is fascinating. I’m going to have to look more into this. We should practice together sometime! We sh-“

“Vhat you should do is go to bed!” Henrick interrupted. “It has been a long night and you were under a bad curse for who knows how long. Marvin, you sleep in lab. I need to check you over still. Come, come.”

Reluctantly, Marvin got to his feet and stumbled behind the doctor into his lab. JJ joined Chase on the sofa.

“You should go to bed too,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

“What do you think I’m doing my fine fellow?” He yawned and settled his head on his brother’s shoulder. “Good night Chase.”

“Heh. Night bro. Thanks for saving us today.”

But he was already asleep.

[xehanortsreport]

99 for that xigsem parenting riku and vanitas au......

as soon as this came into my askbox i was transfixed, SO HERE WE GO....i got a little carried away, whoops

“How could you forget your son’s birthday?”(owie)

Birthday morning. Vanitas struggled to keep his excitement down as he clambered out of his bed; Riku had already left the room, it seemed, and he couldn’t help but be glad that he had. This was Vanitas’s day, after all, and he didn’t need his too talented younger brother hogging up the moment from sunrise to sundown this time too. Ten...finally ten. Double digits. A whole decade. He hastily pulled on his oversized hoodie and jeans, ruffled his hair in place of a comb, and sped into the kitchen, wanting to look cool, calm, collected, just like a preteen should in his head.

He peeked around. Riku had probably already been dropped off to his special before school program, but the sight of Ansem, who usually joined for breakfast, was nowhere to be seen. His other father, Xigbar, was already up and ripping open a new package of sugar, squinting at a measuring cup on the counter with his good eye. The moment he caught sight of Vanitas edging around the corner, he gave a cheerful finger gun and clicked his tongue in greeting.

“Morning, little man. And more of a little man today than ever, right?”

Vanitas rubbed his nose to conceal his grin and slid over to the table, where a small plate of scrambled eggs was waiting for him.

“Morning, Appa. Where’s Dad? Did he already leave?”

“It’s his day off, remember? You already know he’s in the workshop.”

“Oh yeah...I kinda forgot it fell on my birthday this year.” Vanitas looked off to the side, and pouted. “But he’s still not here, so I guess it doesn’t make a difference. Wonder if he’d show up for Riku.”

“Please, the man’s a workaholic no matter what day it is. Anniversaries, birthdays, I dunno...lung transplant surgeries on his grandma? No matter the occasion, he’ll find a way to be busy.”

Xigbar’s rich black hair swayed back and forth as he busied himself whipping up pancake batter: Vanitas’s favorite breakfast, especially when loaded with chocolate chips. The hair and golden eyes: Vanitas had inherited both. Though the eyes also ran on Ansem’s side of the family, deep brown skin and broad nose were the more obvious signifiers of what he had inherited from his other father. Still, he felt closest to Xigbar, whose chaotic sense of humor and wickedly chill attitude (and cool stories about being the governor’s most trusted bodyguard) appealed more to a young boy than the stern, sometimes condescending cool of the respected scientist.

“Dad always looks like he likes Riku more, though. He’s always helping him with his homework and talking with his teacher and stuff.”

Smoke started rising from the pan, and Xigbar cursed under his breath, clearly trying, and failing, to censor himself around the kid.

“Your brother is talented in all the same ways your Pops was. He’s probably just trying to guide him around the same pitfalls he made as a kid,” he said, trying to scrape up the burnt pancake. “People like you and me, we gotta work a little harder, but the pain of being a ‘gifted’ kid is that it hurts more when you fall. I think he’s tryna protect that from happening to your brother.”

He let out a low, disappointed whistle at the burnt mess in his pan, snatched it up, and flung it into the nearby trash bin.

“You’re a genius too, though. The teachers are always talking about how I shouldn’t have any trouble with the material, ‘cuz my dads are some of the smartest people in the city.”

Xigbar let loose a throaty laugh, edging the new pancake side to side to make sure it wasn’t burning.

“Nah. Your Pops? Definitely a genius. No doubting that man’s mind works in ways the average human can’t comprehend. But me? No, I just learn fast.”

With a flick of the wrist, the new pancake sailed through the air and landed expertly into the pan on the other side, as if Xigbar had merely been playing at incompetence earlier. The burnt smell of the earlier pancake slowly gave way to a gentler, breadier scent, and Vanitas found himself melting in his chair, impatient to start shoving stack after stack into his mouth.

“At practice, teacher said Riku was a natural,” he muttered, nudging around eggs with his fork. “I wonder if I can learn so fast that he won’t be able to catch up…Hey!”

His father had bumped the plate out of Vanitas’s path with another plate, sending the first one dangerously close to the edge and catching him completely off guard. The stack of pancakes had been completed faster than he had thought, and each of them was a golden brown that made the first pancake’s failure look even more and more like a freak accident.

“Persistence’ll get you places natural talent couldn’t dream, kid. Think of that as your free Birthday Wisdom.”

“‘Birthday Wisdom’? That’s a thing?”

“It is now. And it’s free! Happy Birthday, isn’t life just great?”

“That better not be my gift.”

“As if,” Xigbar said, and began to slice open a melon, peeling and cutting it into floral shapes with ease. “I’m the cool dad, remember? Check by the TV before you catch the bus, I left you something there.”

Vanitas didn’t answer, but shoved the pancakes into his mouth to avoid showing the growing smile on his face. Xigbar snorted knowingly, and set down the fruit in front of him. Golden eye catching golden eye as Vanitas suddenly piped up.

“I want to switch to somethin’ else. Boxing, or...taekwondo or...maybe Dad could actually teach me some of his science or his bookmaking or something…”

“I know what you’re tryin’ to do here, Van,”

“I mean, at school, all the class already thinks I’m too girly, and that’s without the ballet...because havin’ two dads, and one of them is,”

“Continue with that line of thought and I’ll kick your butt along with the kids who said that crap in the first place,” Xigbar sighed, and plopped into a chair beside him, rubbing his temple.

“But you know what I mean! ...I’ll just...leave it to Riku. He’s prettier, too, so I guess I can’t even compete with him on that...hah.”

“Prettier?” With a frown Xigbar chewed on a piece of melon before continuing. “He’s not, number one, number two, this isn’t a competition. By all means, whoop the other kids’ behinds, but not your baby bro’s. You two should be teaming up to take the other losers down, not turning on each other.”

“You don’t think Dad isn’t constantly comparing us in his lab notes or whatever? Y’know…’subject V has a really big head and a small brain compared to the smaller and more compact subject R’.”

“Alright alright, you got his nerd talk down, I won’t deny that, but trust me, that’s not how he sees you kids.”

“You sure?”

“‘Course I’m sure, every mad scientist needs an assistant, and that’s me.” Xigbar winked as best he could with only one eye, and laughed. “The man is an absolute idiot when it comes to emotional intellect, but he does know well enough to keep the lab in the lab. Kinda.”

“Huh...well...I mean, you shouldn’t say that in front of your kid! Aren’t you supposed to be all, ‘Son, you can’t be mean to your father’ and stuff?”

“I told you, I’m the cool dad,” Xigbar said with a smirk, and sipped at his orange juice. “Anyway...if you’re sure about the switch, and you’re not just doing it because you think you can’t do ballet, I guess I can make it happen. Taekwondo sounds good. The only condition is that you use your newfound powers to try and see if you can take me on in combat later.”

“No problem. You’ll go down easy, old man.”

“We’ll see about that,” Xigbar mused, and slid a slice of cake, hidden somewhere Vanitas hadn’t noticed, in front of him while the kid let out a huff of surprise. “I’m pretty tricky.”

That night, as the brothers sat across from each other in separate beds, Vanitas’s hands curled angrily above his knees, balling his sheets into wrinkled messes. Riku was already nose deep in some beginner’s chapter book, devouring stories of pirates and treasures, risky adventures and fantastic worlds...ideas Vanitas found sickening as he grew older. At some point, he couldn’t even see himself playing hero, couldn’t trick himself into believing the magic fairy dust sprinkled on the page anymore. Riku’s dreams soared higher and higher.

Vanitas believed Riku was the only one who could reach them.

“Hey,” Vanitas said, voice a cacophony against the now shattered silence. “What if Dad’s evil?”

Riku paused, eyes flickering from his page to Vanitas and back again. Then, slowly, he folded the book shut, thumb still marking the page, and laughed. Vanitas’s lips pulled into a disappointed sneer.

“What’s so funny? You don’t think he is?”

“Of course he isn’t,” said Riku, brimming with confidence. “I mean, he can be cranky and stuff, but that isn’t the same thing as being evil.”

“But what about that workshop, huh?” Vanitas pressed forward, physically and verbally, voice dropping dangerously. “He locks himself in there all day, and always with the lights off. He’s using candles! Who still uses candles?”

“That’s evil?”

“‘Course it is.” Vanitas huffed, and his golden eyes burned with challenge. Cry, idiot, he thought to himself. Be weak already. Be scared. “Maybe the reason he spends all his time with you is because he wants to size you up and feed you to the dog and make a clone. I bet he doesn’t really love you at all!”

The last word was a shout. Riku’s breath hitched, body locked tight, and Vanitas thought, at last, all those barbs and jabs had landed a significant blow.

But when he locked eyes with Riku, he felt his stomach clench. Riku shone with preternatural wisdom, beautiful, ocean blue, almond shaped eyes narrowing knowingly, thin smile shaky but self assured, a feeling of challenge reverberating with nothing more than a cocky “heh”. Silver locks...Ansem’s hair...shook around his shoulders.

“Yeah, well...maybe Dad’s gonna replace you, then, too.”

Vanitas’s jaw immediately clamped shut, wired by the jolted, struck nerves. Riku, though intelligent, was still seven, and remained ignorant of the bleeding gash he had struck deep into Vanitas’s heart.

“It’s almost midnight...hey, did he give you a present, yet?”

Whatever Riku was saying was immediately lost in the trample of Vanitas’s feet as he threw himself off the bed and ran down the hallway, hoping desperately that the tears spilling down his face had been lost in the dark. They slowed eventually, after what felt like hours, and his legs began to feel like they were pulling him through mud. Almost midnight...almost midnight, and that man was still cooped up in his workshop. Tears turned caustic as they streamed, teeth grinding in a way that he was sure would earn some sort of lecture. Good. Let him be lectured. That would be enough to show Dad still cared about some part of him.

He paused in front of the open door leading into the workshop, feet stopping just short of the threshold. Contained candlelight was all that lit the room, deep oranges and browns driving back the encroaching darkness. Hunched over beyond the frame, leaning over an ancient looking wooden desk, was that man. Silver hair fell elegantly about broad shoulders in shimmering sheets...almost Elven, magical...a stark contrast to the furious flurry of his arms and hands and fingers working mechanically, this way and that, grabbing oddly shaped knives and tools that Vanitas couldn’t have made up even in a particularly vivid daydreaming session. His stomach swam, and for a moment, he was prepared to believe his own lies...what if his father really was just some mad scientist, who would carve him up to the bone and throw the scraps to the dog?

“Dad?” His voice was weak, faltered the moment it left his throat. All it did was push out more tears, mourning how pathetic he sounded.

He thought he saw Ansem’s movements pause, but they quickly resumed his work. Anger boiled over in his stomach as he threw out his voice more wildly, it cracking in his emotion.

“Dad!” Vanitas stomped his foot simultaneously, and snot dribbled down his face. “Arentcha forgetting something!? ‘Happy Birthday, Van’! ‘Happy Birthday’! How could you forget your own son’s birthday?! I bet you wouldn’t forget Riku’s! Riku...Riku’s your…”

His voice fell out completely, head hanging, unable to look up as the wooden chair creaked and the solid footsteps of his father quietly approached. Hiccups tumbled out of his mouth, and he couldn’t help how his shoulders trembled even as a strong hand cupped around them.

“Vanitas.”

How strong and confident and unwavering that voice seemed; how kittenish Vanitas’s own sobbing seemed compared to that deep, lionlike roar.

The tears barely left enough room in his eyes for him to notice the gilded corner of a leather notebook, pushed gently under his nose, offered.

“I’d never forget my proud, eldest child.”

Vanitas’s breath seemed to vanish. His head swam with confusion as he hurriedly swiped away the tears clouding his vision, growing cold on his cheeks, and shakily grasped the book. A few second for his eyes to refocus, and it soon became clear what he was holding: a hand bound journal. Elegant carvings decorated its cover, its face stamped with some sort of symbol Vanitas had never seen before.

“This is what is called a ‘sigil’. This one was made with your name,” said Ansem with a sigh that suggested he too had been holding back some worry. Worry? “It is imbued with your will, your spirit...and my guidance.”

Vanitas thumbed through the journal; mostly blank pages greeted him, though there was a hand written appendix in the back detailing simple charms and spells for luck. The occult and science seemed to be at odds to each other, but his father had a vested interest in both, one that he had apparently noticed Vanitas picking up. And now...he had made this, a journal..a grimoire? Welcoming Vanitas further into that world, by his side.

Was that why it had taken so long? Was he waiting until he had finished the gift?

“Happy Birthday, Vanitas.” Ansem’s eyes tilted downwards, and it seemed he was hiding some emotion from his son. “For ever letting you think I did not care...I am sorry.”

“Dad…,” Vanitas’s lips couldn’t seem to focus on becoming a smile or a frown, and wobbly flopped between both. He threw his arms around Ansem, pressing his face into his torso, and let out an ugly, primal shout. “Say it sooner, next time, jerk…!”

“Noted,” Ansem replied primly. “I heard from your Appa that you wanted to give up ballet. Is this also because of how you see Riku? How you think I see him?”

Vanitas flushed, heart pounding, and he was grateful his face was hidden.

“Mm….mmhm…”

“I went ahead and booked you a private tutor earlier, after I heard. You’re skilled, Vanitas, and I don’t want to see your passion fall away. You’re both valuable to me, equally. Perhaps it’s best to let you boys start being separate more often…” Ansem mused as Vanitas backed away, face and tears brimming with surprise.

“Really?”

“Unless you still wanted to do taekwondo. I heard your Appa is quite excited about the possibility of you flipping the children in your classroom around,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll admit, if they’re saying the things I think they are, I’m inclined to agree.”

“Sweet! Uh...wait,” He paused, clutching the journal to his chest and awkwardly scratching his hair. “Can I do both?”

“My, a multidisciplinary. You truly are my son.”

“...Van?”

A voice lilt up from the doorway. Vanitas, eyes barely losing their redness, turned, and immediately he shrank back towards Ansem, who caught him in a ready arm. Riku, eyes wide, hand lifted up nervously to his chin, stood in the threshold.

“I uh...I followed you here…um.” The smaller boy cleared his throat and closed his eyes, and when he spoke up, it was with a courage that steadied the tinniness of his small voice. “I’m sorry, for hurting your feelings. I didn’t know what I said was bad, I just wanted to tease you back. And, um…”

Riku inched forward, traded a glance with Ansem, who nodded down at Vanitas, and wrapped his arms around his older brother, melting into the embrace. Vanitas stood stock still, surprised but unwilling to move, as if afraid to dismiss the warmth of the moment altogether.

“You’re smart, and talented, and a really cool brother,” Riku said, muffled by Vanitas’s chest. “Love you.”

Vanitas finally managed to break his hesitation and placed a hand on Riku’s hair, gently ruffling it.

“I guess you’re not bad yourself.”

“Van.”

“...Love you too.”

[i-write-about-anything]

Little Beta(s) Part 51

Prompt: Liam get’s turned at an early age and he looks at you as his guardian/parent. Plus you’re dating Scott who’s always trying to look after him. (10 year gap between Liam and reader)

Pairing: Liam Dunbar x Reader (platonic) Scott McCall x Reader, Derek Hale (younger and platonic) x Reader

Chapters:1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20- 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 -25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40 - 41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48 - 49 - 50

(A/N: i wasn’t going to post this cause it’s absolute shit but i feel like i needed to update it to something where you guys won’t worry if i continue it or not lol this might be the ending of this, it might now, maybe they’ll be a spin-off but as of right now i don’t exactly have any more ideas for this fic.)

Scott sat there in the waiting room of the animal clinic, blood spattered all over his body, he had called (y/n) only to let her know he had gotten Liam back. Liam sat next to Scott, his eyes opened wide as he stared directly in front of him replaying the images of what had just happened over and over again. Blood dripped from Liam’s face, his eyes wide open as he continued to think about what had just happened. The door to the animal shelter opened abruptly, (y/n) coming into view but not even that could snap Liam out of the trance he had been in. She ran to Liam, kneeling in front of him before cupping his face in her hands. Liam looked at her, her mouth moving but nothing coming out of it, he had completely muted the world. It took Scott more than a minute to realize that (y/n) was there, in fact he hadn’t realized she was there until her hand grabbed his arm. “Scott.” Her voice was frantic, how could it not be? Two of the people she cares the most about were sitting there, blood all over their bodies. “Scott!” She repeated and this time Scott looked at her, his hand grabbing her arm gently. “Where’s Derek?” Scott continued to look at her with his blank stare. “Scott, where’s Derek?” (Y/N) repeated, her eyes searching for an answer but Scott didn’t say a word.  

“(Y/N).” Deaton’s voice caught her attention, she stood up before turning towards Deaton. His hands covered in blood and she looked at them before pushing passed him into the surgery room Deaton had been in. That’s where he saw him, body lying in a pool of blood on the top of a steel table. Her knees hit the floor before she even felt Deaton’s hands on her shoulders. She couldn’t even hear the screams that were coming out of her own mouth. Liam’s head snapped to the room when he heard the screams, it had been the only thing he heard in the past two hours. He got up and made his way into the room, ignoring the lifeless body on the table. Liam kneeled down next to his mother, her screams loud as she cried.  

“Mom.” Liam whispered too lowly for even he to hear. He wrapped his arms around her and she did the same, crying into his shoulder. Liam too shed a few tears. Scott couldn’t move, he was paralyzed with fear, with guilt. He grabbed his head in his hands before pulling his hair and yelling out in pain, something he hadn’t done in a long time. He got up from his seat, kicking the chair across the room continuing to yell in the process as he trashed the small office, tears streaming down his face. Deaton sighed before looking at Liam who nodded before Deaton walked out of the room, looking at his trashed office. He sighed once more and looked at Scott who was crying as he held onto his head.  

“Scott.” Deaton’s voice was low, he didn’t want to upset Scott more than he already was.  

“How could I have let this happen? How could I have done something like that?” Scott sobbed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I could have stopped it, I could have saved him.” Scott’s knees buckled as he fell to the floor. “I should have tried harder, I should have-” Scott’s voice broke as more sobs came out, Melissa rushed into the office, Lilly being carried in the cars-eat. She heard Scott before she saw him, she rushed to him setting Lilly down next to them before her arms wrapped around him, Melissa had known about Derek, hell she was the one Deaton called when Scott walked into the animal clinic. Scott cried into her shoulder, Melissa rubbing his back as he continued to cry.

(Y/N) looked at Liam, her hands cupped his face. “Are you hurt?” Her voice cracked as she continued to cry. Liam shook his head and (y/n) got up, bringing Liam with her, she took another look at the lifeless body on the table before sobbing once more and walking out of the room, she saw Scott on the floor and almost immediately she walked to him and fell next to him, leaving Liam standing next to Deaton. Melissa got up and (y/n) wrapped her arms around Scott replacing Melissa’s spot. They both cried into their arms for a while before Liam too kneeled down on the floor, both Scott and (y/n) embracing him.  

“I’m so sorry.” Scott spoke lightly. “I’m so sorry.” He repeated and his voice broke. (Y/N) shook her head hugging him a little tighter. The truth was, there was nothing Scott could have done.  There wasn’t anyone that could have stopped it. Lilly’s cry got everyone’s attention and for a moment the room was silent.  

“I got her.” Melissa spoke looking at her son, blood stained his clothes and his face. (Y/N) kissed Liam’s head, she had been so stupid before, to be mad at him for leaving, he was always better off without her and Scott, they couldn’t even protect Derek.  

“I’m sorry.” (Y/N) whispered to Liam. “I should have never let you leave, we should have never come back.” She pulled him close but he didn’t say a word, he wanted the embrace, he needed it.  

“(Y/N)?” A voice stopped all the noise in the room, making them all turn to the voice they found familiar. They all turned to look at the face they hadn’t seen in over a year. (Y/N) was the first one to get up from the floor and move towards him. She touched his face, scared that she might be imagining things, but she wasn’t.  

“Derek?” She looked up at him, she knew it was him, hell she could recognize him anytime. He nodded and instantly she embraced his tall figure. “How did this happen? How-” (Y/N) looked at Deaton who studied Derek’s figure.  

“I’m not sure.” Deaton circled Derek. “It seems like him dying broke the curse.” Deaton spoke and both Scott and Liam got up from the floor. Liam looked at Derek, his tall form something he hadn’t seen in years.  

“I’m still me.” Derek spoke and Scott looked at him.  

“You’re, you’re, you. Your old you.” Scott wiped his tears and looked at the scar on his throat that had caused him to lose his life. Derek looked down at his hands before touching his face, feeling the beard that he had. (Y/N) loosened her grip on Derek and looked at Liam who had been looking at Derek like he was some kind of extra-terrestrial.  

“Come on man, it’s still me.” Derek chuckled and Liam embraced him. He let out a couple tears before letting him go.  

“I thought we lost you.” Scott was the one to spoke. “I’m sorry, for everything.” Scott looked down and Derek sighed.  

“I don’t blame you, for choosing Liam.” He spoke and Scott’s head shot up.

“I didn-” Scott began but Derek cut him off.  

“Yeah, you did. And I get it, he’s your son, whether you admit it or not. And I have to thank you, for accepting me and taking me in when I needed you guys. I'm really going to miss being a part of your family.” Derek looked down to his feet, they were a lot larger than the last time he had seen them.  

“You’re still going to be a part of our family, nothing’s going to change.” (Y/N) placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re always welcomed with us, you know this. We’re not going to kick you to the curb, not this easy.” (Y/N) hugged Derek once more, his tall frame was something she was already used to but he was a lot more buff than usual now. “God, I really thought you were gone.” (Y/N) whispered not letting go of Derek. He smiled and hugged her back, he still felt like his younger self, hell in his mind he was still his younger self. Lilly whimpered and it caught both Derek’s and (y/n)’s attention.  

“Can I?” Derek looked at (y/n) and she nodded before Derek went to get Lilly from Melissa’s arms. (Y/N) moved towards Liam pulling him into a hug. She wiped the tears he didn’t realize he had been spilling.  

“Hey, you okay?” She looked at him and he shook his head before shoving it in between her neck and shoulder. She ran her fingers through his hair and he sighed. She looked at Scott as he continued to look at Derek who was now rocking Lilly in his arms. “Let’s get you guys home, you all need to wash off.” (Y/N) looked at Scott who nodded. “Thank you, Deaton, for everything.” He gave her a smile and although he was still having a hard time comprehending what was going on, he decided to let it go. On the drive home Derek looked out the window, wondering what he was going to do, where he was going to go from here, he couldn’t stay with Scott and (y/n), not after returning to his real form. Once they arrived to Melissa’s home Liam was quick to rush to the bathroom, he needed to get the blood off, and he needed to do it now.  

“Where are you going?” Scott spoke catching (Y/N)’s attention, she had been feeding Lilly on the couch. Derek looked back taking his hand off the door.  

“Oh, I uh, I can find a place to stay.” Derek pointed his thumb to the door and Scott shook his head.  

“Come on man, don’t make this awkward. Go get washed up.” Scott crossed his arms over his chest and Derek sighed walking up the stairs.  

“That was awkward.” (Y/N) spoke causing Scott to chuckle, it was awkward. Derek was a full-grown man but his mindset was still as a teenager which threw everything off. Scott sighed before kissing (Y/N) on the cheek and going into the restroom to shower the blood away.

_____

tags; @leslieandjensen @hirafth @neptuneluek @lydiasbxtch @adellyhatter-blog @nxthing-lasts-fxrever@letmebecomeataboo @cloudchaserr @nerdyowlbookfreak @xcastawayherosx @k-baileyy@scotttstilinskii @therealmrshale @thesuperkpopfan @queen–glitch @my-body-is-not-a-temple@mutifandomgirl @moo0803 @hautedbybieber @thejulietfarciertlove @lovelyallen @thejulietfarciertlove

[chroniclesofasickchick]

Update: New Job Day 1

So, I started my new job today, and I did something stupid.

I didn’t bring my cane, I didn’t wear my knee brace, and I didn’t bring any pain meds.

It’s an office job, but with some need for movement, though, no lifting, pushing, pulling or other strenuous things required. Right now I’m just training though, so it’s mostly sitting.

Truthfully, I think I underestimated the harm of sitting so much. I thought “a desk job! Perfect for my hip.” I was wrong, especially when the sitting is on stools or old computer chairs.

So after sitting so long, my hip was DEFINITELY experiencing inflammation and irritation, and on occasion I’d have to get up. That was rough and lead to me trying to hide my limp. I tried sitting in so many weird (and probably unprofessional) positions, my coworkers probably think I’m weird.

So not just my hip, but my lower back, neck, knees, wrists, feet, and shoulders hurt. Seriously who would’ve thought sitting could be so bad.

I low key wondered what they’d all do or say if I just... full on laid on the floor in the back for 10 minutes during my lunch break.

Speaking of lunch, my body decided, “oh you ate! Time to cRaMp!” And yeah, my stomach hurt for a solid hour after eating. I also experience extreme fatigue when I eat, soooo as much I as believe food is a good thing, I’m probably skipping lunch tomorrow. On top of the new sleep schedule, and gneral chronic fatigue that I have, adding in fatigue from digestion, not a good combo. I swear I almost passed out in the back I was so tired and all my blood went to my stomach for digestion.

As far as the job goes, pretty easy. I’m not complaining about the work itself, just my body and how it responds to things that shouldn’t be a problem.

My coworkers seem like wonderful people. The work seems easy to comprehend, especially since I’ve done some of this work already. I don’t feel scared to ask questions, and over all they seem to appreciate that I’m there to learn and eventually help take weight off their shoulders.

I’m gonna need to be honest though and start using my cane and knee supports. I thought about getting a back one as well. Maybe keeping some meds in a drawer, and some ice/hot patches there.

Protein shakes should do the trick at the office instead of solid foods.

I didn’t want them thinking I couldn’t do the job, so I didn’t bring any of my health related things. I was afraid I wouldn’t get the job if I did, and I need this job. I need to get a new car, and I need to pay off my credit cards, and start saving for my surgery recovery time.

It’ll take me 6 months to acquire enough money for the recovery time expenses... I don’t even know if it can wait 6 months or if too much damage will be done by then.

I’m terrified of the idea of a replacement. So many scars, and the recovery is so much worse. Not to mention I want this hips to bear, and hold babies some day.

Ugh... I took a sleeping pill, and honestly can’t even keep my eyes open while typing this rn.

To sum it up: New job is good. Lots of sitting though. Hurts like a bitch and it’s only day one. My body is never satisfied. Had to take a sleeping pill because the night would be long otherwise. Have 26 unread text messages on my phone that I don’t have the mental energy to even read, let alone respond to.

I’m sorry this was long.

[no-i-didnt-notice-im-short]

Red Petals

Part 1, Ao3

Part 2:

As he walked up the stairs and heard coughing from one of the closed doors. Namely Lance’s. The coughing sounded so wet and serious that his own chest vibrated with each one. He moved closer to the door, leaning to listen more clearly.

“Stupid Hanahaki’s disease. Stupid Lance. Dios, Por favor I don’t want to die.”

Hanahaki’s? Unrequited Love?

Keith knew he didn’t have a chance with Lance, but he didn’t know to what extent he was out-matched. The Cuban made it very clear he didn’t take him seriously, let alone romantically. And now it was bluntly clear he was in love with someone else. In love so much that he might die. Who could it be? Allura? He knew the Red Paladin liked her, but that much?

He knocked at the door once. No reply. Twice. Still no reply. Lance probably couldn’t hear him over the sound of his own coughing. He opened the door and braced himself for the sight. Blood was everywhere. He must’ve moved while coughing and got it across the room. Lance was extremely pale, hunched over the pillow at his lap trying to suppress his coughs. Keith looked for petals, the only indication beside Lance’s word to who Lance loves this much.

“I’m fine.”

“And I am bugs bunny.” Keith ran to get towels as the pillow seemed to be soaked through. He gently removed the pillow and threw it on the floor, which was also soaked, replacing it with the new cloth. “Don’t lie to me, Lance. I heard you.”

“I can explain.” Lance said, sounding desperate. Why would he sound desperate? The whole universe knew he was in love with Allura. Heck Allura knew…

Why someone would get Hanahaki’s if the diagnosed’s feelings were known by the recipient. Shouldn’t he have died a while ago then? Didn’t the disease kill if the feelings were known and not reciprocated?

“Hey it’s okay… Just try to focus on taking deep non-life threatening breaths first.” Keith tried. “There should be petals… Pink, right?”

“Pink?” Lance said hoarsely.

“Yeah… it’s the colour I associate with Allura. I assumed everyone did.”

“Allura?”

“Yes, Lance. Allura. Oh my god… Are you starting to forget? I thought this happened after you did the surgery. We have to do the surgery, I ha-“

“Hey! Calm down!” More wet coughs followed. He paused for a few minutes until it passed. “I know who Allura is. I remember her. It’s… it’s not her, okay. I am not getting the surgery.”

“You are going to die.” Keith internally winced at his own bluntness. “I’m sorry.”

He almost didn’t register the sound until he looked at Lance and realised he was chuckling.

“Always trust Keith Kogane to be honest. If I get the surgery, I might as well have died.”

“But if it’s not All-“

Keith was about to ask who it was that caused Lance so much when the door almost broke in half right before their eyes with Shiro and Hunk on the other side. They were both panting with red faces and sweat dripping to oblivion.

“Lance. Are you okay?!”

“Holy shit, this looks like a crime scene.”

“Keith what the hell did you do?”

“God I should’ve stayed longer.”

“Lance?!”

Questions were thrown for the next few minutes till they calmed themselves to even listen to the Black and Red Paladins, who looked at the two males like they grew a second head.

“It’s Hana-.”

“It was a nosebleed.”

Keith looked at Lance, confused to how easy it was for him to lie to their faces. Keith already knew, why shouldn’t the rest of the team know? Especially since it wasn’t Allura.

“A nosebleed did all this?” Shiro exclaimed, raising an eyebrow. “Lance… you shouldn’t be ashamed of anything with your team.”

“Seriously… Just a nosebleed. Why did you guys run here like that?”

“You were coughing horribly. The whole house heard. Mrs. Sierro went to get your father, who I think might call the ambulance.”

“What… Ambulance?!”

Keith looked around the room and understood the panic.

“Keith… Tell them it’s nothing serious. I am fine!” Lance’s eyes pleaded for him to take his side. He contemplated doing so but his pale face and blood stained floor, towels, sheets and pillows held him back. Lance needed help. He couldn’t fathom a life where he could’ve saved Lance from… dying.

“Keith?” Hunk looked at him. His entire demeanour terrified for his best friend. Hunk’s eyes kept moving between Lance and Keith as if he knew something but didn’t know how to articulate it.

“He’s sick.”

“Sick?”

“Shiro… It’s Hanahaki’s.”

Many emotions passed on Shiro’s face: Confusion, shock, despair and horror.

“Who is it!?” Shiro ran and knelt at Lance’s bed. “You have to tell me who it is, Lance. This could kill. I don’t know if you know much about this but this is very dangerous and not a laughing matter.”

Lance stared at Shiro for a few minutes before he anger flared on his face. He pushed Shiro and stood. He almost lost his footing, if it wasn’t for the bed’s headboard. His pale face was a huge contrast from his usual tanned complexion.

“Lance…” Hunk started before getting cut off by Lance.

“I am not an idiot. Contrary to popular belief.” He looked at his leaders. “I have been going through this for the past few months, okay? I’ve read about this before and I know people who personally went through this too. So don’t treat me like I am the dumb one.”

The last statement was directed to Keith. Memories of the game show flashed in his mind.  Guilt and rage ran his blood cold. Was that the impression he gave Lance? That he thought he was the dumb one?

I wouldn’t want to spend an eternity with Lance.

Yes. He didn’t want to spend an eternity with Lance because a few months with him, light-years away from earth, were enough for Keith to completely lose his goddamn mind. The ex-Blue Paladin was… extraordinary, to say the least.  He caught his eye from back at Garrison and he didn’t know how to go about with it, not that he had any guidance on this matter. He saw how free Shiro was with Adam and how happy it made him feel to be out. But those two were bigger awkward idiots than Keith.

“You are not the dumb one, Lance. No one thinks that of you.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Lance glared at Shiro. Keith had a feeling this was long overdue.

“Lance. No one thinks you’re dumb, man. You are a jack of all trades. Yes, you don’t have one particular skill, even though your shooting is superb, but you can adapt. Allura told me about how quick you were able to train with your sword when you got it. Add on that the fact that you are a people smart person. You can comfort anyone regardless of who they are. Don’t deny it; I’ve seen you with children and other alien victims after our missions.”

Lance’s blue eyes were wide looking at Keith. He internally yelled at himself… he might as well confess at this point. Jesus. Lance took a step towards Keith, everyone held their breath. He subconsciously braced himself to be hit. You don’t tell someone all that when you know they are so deeply in love with someone else and they are basically dying because of it and it’s too late.

“Keith, I-“ A wet fit of coughs takes over Lance. He shakes and falls onto his knees. Blood spills on his already stained shirt and floor. He tries to say something but his chest-shattering coughs make everything nonsensical.

When his sharp coughs didn’t stop for a couple of minutes, Hunk ran out of the door to call someone. Shiro and Keith each took a side and held him upright to prevent pressure on his lungs.

“Shiro, he’s choking. What the hell do we do?”

“I don’t know, I am thinking.”

“We can’t lose him, not like Diane.” Shiro looked at him with sad eyes. Diane was a friend that went to Keith’s old school. They stayed in touch even after he went to Garrison. She fell in love with a girl in her class, someone she couldn’t have. Unrequited. And when she confessed, the girl she fell in love with, didn’t reciprocate her feelings. Not in that way.

This whole situation was why Keith was terrified of Love, of falling for someone he couldn’t have. Of falling for someone who wouldn’t think of him in the same why he did. Bringing into light… Lance. He was straight and so obviously in love with girls that it was painfully clear Keith didn’t stand a chance. So sue him if he didn’t want to spend an eternity with Lance.

“The ambulance is here!” Hunk declared with two paramedics trailing behind him. Lance was starting to lose consciousness from the lack of air and the exhaustion due to the strain on his lungs. He could barely keep his head up without help.

The paramedics took Lance from the Paladins and lay him on a gurney. Keith watched in awe as the female paramedic took a syringe and pierced the space between the rib bones, under his arm, and how the blood filled in his lungs was drained into the tube. They lifted the gurney up and began to take him to the ambulance.

“Shiro, I have to go. Please.” Shiro looked at Keith’s desperate face and “Go. I’ll meet you there.” was all he needed to hear before he walked into the ambulance with Mrs. Sierro to get to the hospital.

Mrs. Sierro held her son’s hand, her thumb massaging his knuckles. At this moment, she looked way older than she did when she was teaching Shiro tips in the kitchen. Her lost son returned from war, beaten and scarred, to get sick and be taken to the hospital. Hadn’t this boy suffered enough?

Lance woke to the white florescent lights of the hospital. He really hated this place.

When everything came to focus, he looked around the room and noticed he was alone. He stayed completely still, taking in everything at once. He collapsed at his house after Keith made that speech. What he said was everything Lance had ever wanted to be told. He always felt like he was either a nuisance or invisible to the Black Paladin. Especially after he came back from the two-year getaway with his mother at the quantum abyss. Keith simply didn’t have time for him anymore and he didn’t take him seriously, not that he did in the first place.

A young doctor walked in with a clipboard, no doubt containing his condition’s details, and stood in front of his fluid bags to note down the levels of the medicines injected into him.

“What time is it?” His voice sounded as hoarse as it felt. It was like rubbing sandpaper against the walls of his throat.

“6 pm.” She replied. Lance smiled, tried to, at her. She had a lovely accent. “You’ve been out for about three hours now.”

Oh.

“My parents?” Keith?

“Are waiting for you outside.” She looked at him and hesitated for a second before continuing. “Before we bring them in, I wanted to tell you that we removed as much of the petals as we could without removing the actual cause. We need your consent for that. The petals are stored in a safe place and can be retrieved if you want to.”

“Did anyone see them?”

She smiled sadly at him. He hated the pity.

“No. We have a strict protocol in case of Hanahaki’s disease here. We hide the petals in case the identity could be known to someone without your consent. They demanded though.”

If the others were out there, then he thought they might. They are the only ones who might figure out its Keith. But they were just petals.

“Identified?” He questioned. How could someone know from petals?

“The colour of the petals is related to the person. If you identify someone with a specific colour in your mind, that’s the colour of the petals.”

So because Keith was the original Red Paladin and he kept thinking of him as the original paladin for Red. He was met with Red petals.

“Oh okay.”

“Do you want me to send for a specific person or your parents?”

“My parents.”

“You should tell him, you know. He might actually feel the same way.”

He turned to the doctor faster than his head could handle. Was this Allura in a shape-shifted form?

“What?”

“The boy with the hoodie and the long black hair. He’s been sitting on the floor outside your room the whole time. He didn’t move once. He was shaking and saying he should have noticed you were suffering for months. Poor boy blames himself for something out of his control.”

He thought more about what Keith said. He complimented him better than his mother had ever done. He noticed things about him, the things he didn’t talk about. He noticed his real self instead of the persona he made everyone believe he was.

“Can you send in just Keith, please?”

She hummed and left the room. He was about to break a promise he made to himself. But hey! He was dying anyways, right? He chuckled self-deprecatingly.

“God… They cut off part of your brain and now you completely lost your mind.” Keith said nervously as he walked into the room. Without knocking, he thought.

“Heard you were worried about me, Mullet.”

“I am.” He said earnestly. “And it’s not a mullet anymore, you know.”

He coughed slightly before continuing.

“Right… Now you fit your emo brooding persona with that hair.”

“Ha. Ha.”

They both fell silent as words hung between them. There was so much that they both wanted to say but neither knew how.

“Listen, Keith.”

Violet eyes met blue.

And for the first time, he thought he might actually have a chance at this.

“I am going off the words of the doctor that I literally met five minutes ago. So if I read into this wrong, please blame her and not me.”

“What are you trying to say?” Keith low voice sent shivers down Lance’s spine.

“Fuck… I am dying anyways, right? What have I got to lose? My dignity? Yeah screw that… Anyways, I care about you okay? I care about you a lot. I might even love you. This stupid Hanahaki’s Bullshit wasn’t how I wanted you to find out. In fact I didn’t want you to find out. I was so disgusted and angry that I fell for someone I couldn’t have… not because you are a guy, but because why would you love me? I am this screw up that doesn’t seem to get his head out of his ass most of the times. I am not a genius in the things that matter. You said I was people smart, well people smart doesn’t come up with an upgrade that saves our asses, book smart does. People smart doesn’t help in planning a strategy for a battle formation, book smart people do. So why would you fall for me? Not when you deserve so much more.”

Lance wanted to say so much more but his throat clogged up and his lungs decided to seize. He took a breath, granted it felt like breathing through a straw, but still a breath nonetheless. Keith’s face was unreadable. He seemed to be a melting pot of emotions and he couldn’t figure out a single one.

“You fucking idiot. How dare you decide what you think I deserve and what I don’t. Here I am, scolding myself and beating myself up for falling for this arrogant, sweet, careful, straight Cuban guy when you were literally dying and I didn’t know. Do you have any idea how terrified I’ve been those past few hours? They felt like the longest hours of my life, not knowing whether you will make it or not. I have listened to every joke, every comment you have ever made. Every pickup line you have every said and wished with every fibre of my being that you would once use them on me. You kept throwing yourself at these girls who didn’t know how precious you are and how sensitive you are and how incredible talented you are when I was right there, waiting, hoping, wanting. God, Lance, I love you. I have been since the beginning.”

Lance let out a sob. He and Keith held each other’s hands, shaking with relief and exhaustion. He was so tired, mentally and physically from everything. He almost forgot where they were when he felt a sharp pain in his lungs. The pain continued to spread until it was overtaking his entire chest area. He let out a gasp and then a pained cry. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, it was getting too much.

Keith stood and ran to the door and yelled in the hallway.

“Someone HELP!!! WE NEED HELP HERE PLEASE!”

It didn’t take two seconds for the doctors to rush in and everything went black.

Watching the doctors move quickly to see what the hell happened to Lance, for the second time that day, was more than his own heart could handle.

He still didn’t believe half of what Lance said but kept thinking that this is all some twisted dream and that he was going to wake up at Lance’s place, on the couch with Shiro drooling on the opposite couch and everything would be exactly the same.

But the lingering feeling of Lance holding his hand was real. It grounded him, reminding him that he was real, that this was real. And that what’s happening to Lance right now was, also, very much real.

The rest of paladins were all piled outside, on the chairs and floor, surrounding Lance’s family. Veronica and Marco were holding their mother’s hand absolutely terrified while their father gently spoke to his wife trying to calm her down.

He stood outside the room a second time for what felt like hours, but was actually ten minutes. The doctor that called him into Lance’s room once again came out.

“I’m here to calm you all down, what just happened was a reaction from his body against the bud to try and expel it out after it had served its purpose. Usually if it wasn’t so advanced, the host would simply cough it out. But in this case, the thorns were too embedded into his organs that any harsh removal would’ve made the situation worse. Lance is an incredibly lucky guy and is set to make a full recovery.”

Keith stood next to Shiro and slid down to his level where he was sitting on the floor.

“Keith.” Shiro called out to him gently. “Are you okay?”

“It was me.” He felt numb. “It was actually me.”

Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith. He melted into the warmth of his friend. For once things felt like it might actually have a silver lining.

[richonnejustdesserts]

Cold

Michonne rubs her hands up and down her chilly arms as she peers out the living room window in her new neighbor’s apartment. The onslaught of sleet and snow is deceptively breathtaking. The wintry night made more intimidating by the lightning flashes in the sky.

Due to nature’s viciousness outside, sincere appreciation for the contrasting calm inside, nuzzles her heart. Rick’s place is comfy. Decorated in neutral colors with one or two bold accents. Simple, sophisticated, but rugged and male. Evidence of a man who’s uncomplicated, yet has good taste and takes pride in his surroundings. “Here you go,” he says quietly. “Hope it’s hot enough for you?” She turns accepting the mug of cocoa from his hands. “Mmm. Thank you. It is.” Michonne savors the heated sensation defrosting her icy fingertips before taking a sip to thaw out the rest of her limbs. Looking back at him she didn’t miss his quick blink and glance to her mouth. “I like your place,” she says, “It’s neat. Mine, on the other hand…I am the total opposite. Scraps of cloth, thread, and zippers are practically everywhere. And I just about live at my job, so—” “Vintage boutique right?” Holding a Guinness, Rick perches himself on the armrest of his couch. “Yeah, so when I get home, other than bathe, eat and sew, I scarcely have time or energy to do a proper clean up.” “Opposites huh?” A smirk plays on the corner of his lips before he takes a swig of his beer. “You know what they say about that?” “No,” she challenges, “Enlighten me.” They both slip into blushing laughter. “That you?” She nods toward a framed picture on his bookshelf. His neck cranes to peek at what caught her attention. “Uh, yeah…Fourteen years old with my Dad, visiting my Uncle Ned at the hospital after surgery. Didn’t make it though. That’s the last photo of him before he died.” “I’m so sorry. How’d you get through it at such a young age?” He glances away from the dated picture. “Family. Pastor. And Mr. Jones, my middle school counselor.” “Left an impression on you, didn’t he?” Rick himself is now a high school guidance officer, one of the few facts she gleaned since he moved into her building 7 months ago. “Without question.” “No doubt you’ve made him proud.” He massaged the back of his neck and shrugged making her wonder if he felt he could be better. “Perfection is an illusion,” she says. “At least you’re a good man. Wouldn’t be here otherwise.” A ripe crimson colors his cheeks, followed by a grin. For a moment they nurse their respective drinks in hushed silence. Michonne wouldn’t have guessed it would be this easy to converse with him—the handsome guy next door with the wicked smile and the dreamy twinkle in his eyes. She likes him. “Thank you again, for letting me crash here tonight. It was either you or Mr. Porter next door.” When temperatures plunged to sub zero in her apartment, Michonne took a huge chance by seeking warmth in this stranger’s home. Gregory, their landlord, promised to replace her busted thermostat a week ago, and she had been roughing it thus far. Tonight, however, when she lost all feeling in her toes despite wearing three pairs of socks, she became desperate. “I apologize for just showing up, I don’t have your number.” “Well, I’ll be sure to pass it along before you leave.” “Oh…I wasn’t trying to—” “Wasn’t trying to be coy about getting my number? Hmm…I’m disappointed.” She laughs again. She really likes him. Kind hearted, has a sense of humor, and chivalrous. A treasure in this day and age where most men are…Ugh! “Would it be alright if I still gave it to you?” She jumps out of her thoughts darting her eyes to meet his with a question. ‘What did you say?’ “My number? You know, just because…“ he responds, deciphering the words that dashed across her mind. "And for the next time you need warmth or… anything.” She bites her bottom lip. “Are you always this hospitable when strange frozen black women barge their way into your home?” “Naw, just the ones I find are cute.” “Wow. You are on a roll Mr. Johnny Cash.” He chokes. “That’s who you think of when you look at me?” Michonne wasn’t about to reveal what she really thought of him and his sexy smile. Instead, she points to the blankets he placed on the couch, reminding him she brought her own. “Oh, these are for me.” He points down the hallway. “You can sleep in there. I changed the sheets. Nothing fancy, but clean.” She stares at him. “How could I put you out of your own room? The couch is perfect for me. I can rest anywhere.” "Well my conscience won’t rest at all. Please…it’s no bother. So if you’re tired, feel free.” “Thank you. Think I will. Goodnight Rick.” “Goodnight Michonne.” As she cloaks herself and ambles down the corridor, light ceases to exist. Rick’s bachelor pad becomes shrouded in darkness. As does the rest of the world. “Oh my god,” she gasps. “Don’t panic.” “This is a joke, right?” “Give it a few minutes. Think this building has a generator?” “Really?” No heat and no lights. With a raging blizzard outside. By the time her eyes adjust his silhouette is right before her. “Don’t worry, I have a flashlight and a camper’s lantern…in my closet.” A high voltage touch then cups her elbow. Michonne too nearly short-circuited. “I–I also have one. A–um  flashlight at my place. Extra blankets too, in case this lasts whole night.” “Won’t be necessary,” he says. “No?” Electric fingers singed a path up her arm. “No.” Another bolt lit up the darkened city and Michonne got hijacked by the mesmerizing blues staring down at her face. Her body jerks without her permission, and she laughs back her nervousness. “Are you trying to take advantage of me?” He chuckles, inching closer. “Maybe. You did say you needed a warm night.” “Well,” Michonne’s knees wobble, “guess I definitely came to the right door.”

written by @rwtl2016​ 

 ff.net: leeeel