#in their first met he already wanted to hold Amp's hand

[emberfriday]

Can we see more hum Amp x Damus please? They're so cute 🥰

here lil thingy for u💞💖

[lo-wrote]

Warm Beer and Old Sushi Part of The Wrong Side of Twenty-Five, a semi-autobiographical series on dating in my late 20's. Contains sexual content. WC: 1.6k

I hate beer.

I don’t know why I keep agreeing to first date at bars when I have such strong feelings about beer. Probably because this is a city that loves its beer, like loves its fucking beer, like can’t throw a pebble without hitting a guy with a shaved head wearing cargo shorts and flip-flops who’s just amped to play cornhole kind of loves its fucking beer. I’ve heard lectures and diatribes and TED Talks worth of information about beer, and the importance of using the right hops, and the unique flavor profile of this particular IPA, and the myriad of reasons why this brewery or that are actually sellouts and got too big to truly feel indie anymore.

It’s the curse of working non-standard hours, the only things open by the time I get off work are Denny’s and bars and breweries and supermarkets.

Maybe I should start asking to meet at the grocery store. We walk around, we pick out a few things. I learn about your aversion to coconut, you tease me about my love for condensed canned soup (yes, the noodles are gummy and yes it has my whole day’s worth of sodium but it tastes like nostalgia, like laying on the couch with the flu and drinking warm ginger ale—wait, you didn’t do that? well let me tell you...). We spend an eternity, or maybe just half an hour, getting to know each other in the liminal space of the deli section, the fluorescent lights humming us a love song. We coyly hold hands in front of the hothouse tomatoes, scandalize the cantaloupes with a chaste kiss.

But here I am instead, perched on a bar stool in a way that will absolutely wreck my already weak lower back, sipping at a beer that tastes only moderately like warm piss-water. The guy in front of me, the one whose profile regrettably said Just a Jim looking for my Pam!, is talking about the beer he ordered. Telling me about the local brewery that makes it, how it’s their special edition just for the fall, how it doesn’t quite compare to this other IPA he had but it’s good enough, y’know?

He never asks me if I like beer.

We exchange a few pleasantries once he exhausts himself talking about pale ales, catch up on our days, subtly look each other over again and again to see how we measure up to our profiles (it’s 1:1 match, ladies and gentleman!). He seems to have worn himself out already on conversation, like a puppy let loose to run around the backyard before it collapses in a sleepy heap, and the deadly first-date lull sets in. The killer of vibes has already come for us, and we’ve been here no more than fifteen minutes.

I, for one, am a dismal conversationalist when getting to know someone. I listen better than I talk, the only subject matter I can conjure in situations like these being work anecdotes that require more set-up than I’m willing to commit to, or useless facts that I’ve learned from years of playing Trivial Pursuit and reading too much Wikipedia.

My mind is like a steel trap for things that will only come in handy if I’m ever in a life-or-death game of Jeopardy. Did you know that the artificial banana flavoring used in most modern products doesn’t taste like banana because it was created off the flavor profile of a banana that went extinct? My dates don’t know. But they don’t care. They never care about the banana-pocolypse.

As the lull becomes more painful to bear and I contemplate sliding off my barstool and curling up on the floor, he fiddles with the cardboard coaster and says, “You know, sometimes when I come to bars, I look around and try to identify if anyone was born with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.”

“What an absolutely unhinged thing to say to another human being that you just met,” I want to say.

“Really? How would one do that?” I actually say because fuck, it’s not like I have anything more interesting to add. Maybe if I let him ramble about this for a bit, I’ll think of something witty and charming to say and redirect the conversation. (Hint: I don’t.)

We leave after a little while, roam the city blocks looking for anything else open, preferably anything that doesn’t require us to talk. He kisses me suddenly as we stand in front of the monkey bars in a well-lit playground, and I return the kiss. He smells like warm beer. I hate it even more on his lips than I do from a pint glass.

We end up attempting sex in the back of his car, hidden away on some dark residential street, parked in front of a perfectly nice bungalow, the flicker of a malfunctioning streetlight occasionally illuminating our sins. I’m wearing too many layers to make this easy; I was expecting to be only looked at from a reasonable distance, not that I’d end up trying to straddle his lap in the back of his Honda Civic. I struggle with my boots, then my bike shorts, then my tights, yanking up my tank top that’s tucked into my smoothing underwear. The mood feels deflated by the time I swing my leg over his lap, my thighs already shaking as they press against his slim hips and he fondles a handful of push-up bra.

We try, and we get sweaty and frustrated, and we mostly fail at trying to achieve penetration. I feel to blame, with my labyrinth of compression garments pooled on the floor, the hasty removal of each item sapping the sexiness from the moment bit by bit. I feel to blame because of my wide thighs and my big stomach that seemed to get in the way. I feel to blame because I feel like I engulf his skinny body.

He chalks it up to that damned autumnal IPA and a small space and perhaps too much eagerness, but the look on his face doesn’t match the kindness of the words that fill the car. I pull down my dress and shove all my bits and bobs of undergarments into my purse and stumble out of his car onto the sidewalk. He says goodnight and he’ll text me tomorrow, and I walk back to my car alone, in an unfamiliar part of the city. Even if he’d offered to walk or drive me back, I would have said no; I need to exist in this shame for a little while.

I walk in the dark for blocks in the wrong direction before I realize it.

He does text me the next day, shockingly. It’s a long, rambling message, telling me he had a lovely time but he just doesn’t think he’s in the right place for a relationship. You see, his friends just got into a minor fender bender in a car that he had rented for them, and the stress of dealing with the insurance and the repair shop and god knows what else is just so overwhelming, you know? There’s just no way he could even think about a relationship, and couldn’t possibly devote attention to me in the way I deserved. I’m certain there was more, but I stopped reading after the third multi-paragraph message.

Maybe this story was true, in part or in totality. Maybe he just couldn’t think of a better way to turn me down and decided to turn it into a creative writing project. Maybe he uses this line on everyone he turns down, like some sort of weird chain letter that gets passed on.

I’d have rather he just ghosted me.

At least I know how to deal with ghosting now. After enough times of radio silence after what I thought was a successful first, third, or fifth date, I learned it was sometimes for the best to just never hear from someone again. Sure, I would wonder what it was that made them crinkle their nose and think, “Nah” the next day. Did the size of my body, accurately represented in multiple pictures in my app profiles, still manage to offend them? Did I not laugh just the right way at a joke that, in retrospect, was kind of insensitive? Did my obvious ambivalence for lukewarm beer shake them deep down to their core, make them question their whole being?

I stand in the middle of my bedroom, shower-fresh and already wanting the day to be over, and tell him it’s fine, and I had a nice time, and I wish him all the best with the chaos he purports to be embroiled in, and then I promptly block his number and get ready for work, because what the fuck else am I supposed to do.

I stop at the grocery store on my way to work, wandering the aisles and wondering if he’d have still written the most convoluted farewell message if we’d just had that first date right here, found ourselves enchanted with each other in front of the pre-made rotisserie chickens. I stare at the day-old discount sushi rolls and want to cry for some reason, but no tears ever come, not when the butcher lurks just behind the counter, watching, judging, hovering in case I need a pound of raw shrimp.

Maybe one day I’ll find a man who will walk hand-in-clammy-hand with me down the dairy aisle and we’ll marvel at the variety of flavors of yogurt they have nowadays. Today, I buy a California roll that smells like spoiled tuna to eat in my car alone and hope I don’t get food poisoning.

[coneyislandbabey]

she's got a strange magic. -> w. rojas

WARNINGS: profanities, complete dork warren rojas, partially from warren's POV

SYNOPSIS: Warren is usually cool and confident, but there's something about you that makes him completely nervous. He's desperate to ask you out, and he's desperate to get it right. Written for this request! word count: 1,391

“Eddie, man, please,” Warren asked, standing in front of his best friend with his arms crossed. It was early afternoon, and they were the only two left at the house with nothing to do. Warren had been out on the deck smoking a joint and talking to himself for the last hour, and had gotten nowhere fast. In a rare moment of clarity, he realized he must be high as balls to be asking Eddie to help him like this at all. 

“That’s fuckin’ stupid, man, c’mon,” Eddie responded, scoffing. When Warren didn’t move or say anything, Eddie looked him over once more, reassessing. “You seriously want me to pretend to be (y/n) so you can practice asking her out?” 

Warren nodded. “You know her as well as I do, so you can be accurate!” 

Eddie let out a genuine laugh this time. “You’ve asked out a hundred girls before, man, and you never needed help. What’s the deal?” 

Warren dropped down onto the couch and sighed, running a hand down the side of his face. What was the deal, indeed. Eddie was right; he had asked out plenty of girls before. Hell, he’d been rejected by plenty of girls before, girls he knew would reject them before he even asked, and that still didn’t deter him. But you… you were different. You were a bartender at The Whisky, and the whole band had gotten to know you pretty well over the last few months, playing regular gigs at the nightclub. You were blunt, and took shit from no one. You had this hair that was always a little messy, a little windswept, and these alluring eyes that had grabbed hold of him the first time you looked at him and never let him go. Warren had tried flirting with you the first night he met you, hitting you with a line even he knew was way too fucking corny, and you shut him down so fast his head spun. Ever since, he had been harboring a bit of a crush on you. Every night the Six played The Whisky, he would tell himself that that was the night he would ask you out, and in the end he chickened out every time. 

“She just– she’s driving me crazy, man,” he said finally. “I’ve never been scared about a chick saying no to me. If they say no, whatever, I can find another chick. But her? Shit, I just need to get it right, you know?” 

Eddie fixed him with a deadpan stare. “Because you’re my best friend, man, I will do this for you once. But only once. Never ask me for this shit ever again.” 

“If you’re actually helpful right now, I won’t ever need to ask you again,” Warren grinned. 

“Alright,” Eddie said, leaning forward in his chair. “Pretend I’m her standing behind the bar. Hit me with your best.”

Warren cleared his throat, trying to imagine himself walking up to you at the bar at the gig later. He’d come over after they played, of course, because it was basically scientifically proven at this point that women found his drum playing sexy. And the whole being sweaty and shiny and amped up thing seemed to work, too. 

“Hey, sexy–”

“What the fuck, Warren, no,” Eddie shook his head, a genuinely pained expression on his face. “She already knows you, you’re not picking up some random woman after a show. You can’t fuckin’ start like that.” 

Warren groaned, falling back into the couch. “I usually have game! I just want us to be on the same page about that.”

“Look, the best thing you can do is just be fucking normal when you talk to her,” Eddie said. “She likes you on some level already, she always talks to you after shows. Not just to humor you either, man. So just… go for it.”

“Just go for it,” Warren repeated, nodding. “Yeah. Okay. Just go for it.”

***

It had been a good night. 

The Six had played, and they were always the highlight of your shift when they were there. Not even because of the music– which was fucking great, as you liked to remind them every time they stopped at the bar for a drink after a gig– but because of the band members themselves. You loved getting to catch up with Karen, who was probably the coolest chick on the Strip, in your opinion, and you loved the way Graham got all timid when you complimented his guitar skills. Billy never got a drink, but he always said hi, which you appreciated. Eddie always challenged you to come up with a new drink to give him, and you did your best to come up with something that tasted closer to diesel fuel every time. 

And then there was Warren. He’d certainly made an outstanding first impression, when he sidled up to the bar and fed you the corniest line you have ever heard in your life before the first gig the Six had ever played at The Whisky. You had shut him down, then– you had to after that line, your pride demanded it– but you could appreciate the way he looked nonetheless. You liked that he still came over to talk to you after each show even though you’d rejected him. There wasn’t any of that toxic masculinity, wounded pride bullshit with him. He always had a smile and a funny story for you, always listened to whatever you had to tell him while you half-distractedly made drinks for the other patrons. 

This had been a particularly good set, even for the Six, and you beamed as you caught sight of Karen slinking through the crowd toward you, ready to shower her in well-deserved compliments. 

“Hey (y/n)! How are you darling?” She asked, leaning over the bar to squeeze you in a quick hug. 

“I’m great! Happy I was working during your gig,” you said, grinning at the blonde. 

“I’m fairly certain someone checks to make sure you’re working before we agree to play any gigs,” Karen joked.

“Wow, well I’m feeling extra loved. I’ll get you your usual?” Karen nodded, and you started on her usual after-show martini. The two of you chatted while you did so, and Karen gratefully accepted the drink when you were done and bade you goodbye after someone across the room caught her eye. 

The bar got extremely busy with people trying to get their drinks while the next band got ready for their set, and for a while you got lost in trying to serve everyone as fast as you could. 

“(l/n),” you heard Warren’s voice from behind you, after the mass of people had been served and walked away. 

“Rojas,” you acknowledged, turning to see the curly-headed man leaning against the bar, smiling lopsidedly at you. “You want a beer or what?” 

“Shirley Temple, actually,” he shrugged, and you snorted in surprise. “How’d we do tonight?” 

“Amazing, but you knew that already,” you said, sliding the drink across the bartop to him. 

“True, I just wanted to hear you say it,” he nodded, that grin still firmly affixed to his face. 

You shrugged. “I would say it a million times over. You’re somethin’ special.” 

“The band, or just me?” He was joking, you could tell from the tone of his voice, but there was a note of sincerity under it all as well. 

“The band, sure, but you, Rojas, you’re somethin’ special all on your own.” 

Warren stayed quiet, a strange look passing over his face as he stared at you. You busied yourself with drying the glasses in front of you, bobbing your head to the music and trying to look unconcerned with whatever was going through his head. 

“Would you allow me the privilege of taking you out to dinner?” Your head snapped up to look at him, took in the clear, sincere look on his face. No frills. No corny lines. No overpowering compliments to butter you up. Just Warren, looking at you like he had his heart in his hand. 

You put the glass and the rag down and leaned your arms on the bar, a genuine, dorky grin overtaking your features. “Yes, Warren. I’ve been waiting for you to ask me again since the first time you tried it.”

tag list: @eonnyx

[notgonnaedit]

Given to Fly

Scrapheap

Summary: Martha "Marty" Thorne was a basic teenager, a little antisocial maybe. But her life changed the day she met the Autobots and joined them in their fight.

Pairing: Optimius x Teen!OFC (Platonic)

Chapter summary: An infestation comes into the base.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Cybertronians getting eaten alive, Cybertronians almost freezing to death, (If I miss a tag LMK)

Updates are sporadic. If you want to be tagged LMK

a/n: This was my favorite episode when I was younger

Master list

As Marty stepped out of Bulkhead's vehicle mode, the first thing she noticed was Optimius and Arcee standing in front of the ground bridge portal. It seemed they were heading out on a mission, which explained why they couldn't pick up Jack and Marty respectively.

"Miss us, doc bot?" Miko asked.

Ratchet saw her and groaned. "Shouldn't they be in school?"

"On a Saturday?" Miko asked. "We have the weekend off to spend with you," she smirked.

Ratchet rolled his eyes as Marty and Jack walked up to their guardians.

"We weren't expecting to carpool," the older boy said. "What gives?"

"Tag team, Jack," Arcee explained. "It's our turn for exploration duty."

Marty put her hands in her jacket pockets as Jack tried to guilt trip his guardian. 

"Oh, too bad," he said nonchalantly. "It's a beautiful day for a ride. Would hate for you to feel guilty for leaving me indoors."

Arcee smirked. "Arctic exploration duty."

"Indoors where it's warm," Jack walked off to stairs just as Raf walked over. Marty recognized the excited gleam in his eyes.

Marty looked up at her guardian. "The arctic, huh?"

"I've always wanted to see snow," Raf said with a smile.

"Not much in the desert," Marty added.

"I would invite you to join," Optimius told the two. "but the conditions are much too extreme, even for we Autobots."

Raf's expression fell. "I... understand."

Marty felt a twinge of sympathy for the boy. Then again, she also had a small desire to see the snow.

Optimius and Arcee were about to step through the ground bridge when the former halted, turning around. "But, I will bring you back some snowballs."

Marty found herself smiling. "That'd be awesome."

Optimius nodded to her before him and Arcee disappeared into the ground bridge. When it closed, Ratchet made a startled noise and sparks crackled. Marty chalked it up to human tech problems as she and Raf walked up the stairs.

"So, what should we do today?" Miko asked.

Bee buzzed excitedly, bringing up his hands to mimic holding something.

"Video game tournament!" Raf translated. "Last one standing wins!"

"Bulkhead, Bumblebee! Here! Now!" Ratchet ordered.

Bee buzzed a groan as they walked away. Raf waved to him as he reached for a controller, but Miko already snagged it.

She plopped down next to Jack, waving the controller in his face. "Prepare to be destroyed."

Jack shrugged her off. "Yeah, not really my thing, Miko."

"Oh? Scared of loosing? To a girl?" She batted her eyelashes innocently, prompting Marty to roll hers.

Jack stared at her for a solid minute before grabbing the controller. "Bring it!"

They focused on the screen, the sounds of their racing game echoing through the base. Marty slipped her ear buds in and plugged the into her amp before grabbing her guitar. She noticed Raf walking away towards one of the many tunnels, but didn't think to much of it.

She rested her fingers on the frets in a familiar pattern, barely even feeling the strings. Years of playing had created layers of callouses on her fingers, armor for her hands.

Her hazel eyes closed as she strummed rhythmically. She had memorized the song to perfection and only needed her ears to play. The chords brought took her to a place she didn't know how to describe. Her mother had taught her how to play, yet she was gone.

Playing brought Marty a sense of peace, even if it was associated with her deadbeat of a mom. It was a strange feeling to have two parents, both alive and well, yet to be raised by extended family. Her father was always working overseas for some big wig company that Marty never took the time to learn. He would send her a card on her birthday, but she only saw him once or twice a year.

Her Uncle Joe was more of a dad to her.

She continued to strum until the sound cut out, along with the lights. Frowning, Marty pulled her ear buds out and stood, putting her guitar away.

"Great. Power failure," Jack said.

"Aw," Miko said with a sarcastic tone it wiped out our game."

"But I was winning!" Jack whined.

Miko tossed her controller and walked down the stairs, Marty on her tail. "Bummer."

The three teens approached the Bots. Ratchet was kneeled down on the ground, looking through large motherboards. "We most definitely have a problem." He said holding a board between his fingers. It had black holes taken out of the sided. "But what could have caused this?"

The lights flickered again.

"Or that?" Bulkhead asked.

Ratchet hummed in thought. "Might be the main grid. Hopefully, it isn't a substation malfunction."

"Hey, guys," called Raf's voice. "Look what I found."

"We're busy!" Ratchet snapped as he looked at the boy. His eyes widened in terror and get let out an scream.

Bulkhead and Bee yelled in fright as they readied their weapons. The teens quickly stepped in front of Raf, arms out.

"Whoa! Hey, what's with you guys?" Miko asked.

"Scraplet!" Bulkhead screamed. "Scraplet!"

"What's a scraplet?" Raf asked, holding a small metal creature in his arms.

"The most dangerous vermin ever to crawl upon the face of Cybertron," Ratchet warned.

Marty frowned and looked at the thing in Raf's arms. "This? Seriously?"

"You're giant robots," Miko said. "Scrappy here is teeny."

"You have no idea the damage that teeny thing can do!" Bulkhead said shakily.

Raf looked down fondly at his new friend. "Aw, he wouldn't hurt anything."

The scraplet opened it's big eyes. It was adorable. It looked up at the Bots and suddenly opened it's mouth. Large, sharp teeth whirred to life as it sprung from Raf's arms. It latched onto Bee, chewing it's way through his paint. The scout watched with terror as he flung the creature off of him. The scraplet tumbled to the floor only to charge again.

A crowbar to the head stopped it. Raf shouted as he smashed the creature that hurt his guardian into tiny pieces. Jack grabbed his arm and took the crowbar. "Whoa, easy there, killer."

Raf panted, nodding before he ran over to Bee.

"I did not see that coming," Miko said, earning a nod from Marty.

"I'm sorry, Bumblebee," The boy apologized as Ratchet looked the scout over. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"Only a mesh wound," Ratchet said. "He'll live."

"Now do you believe me?" Bulkhead asked the kids. "All scraplets do is dismantle machinery and eat metal –Especially living metal."

Marty put her hands in her pockets as they walked over to the Bots. "Well, bug squashed, game over, right?"

Ratchet shook his head. "No. When it comes to scraplets, there's never just one. And I fear I know how they got in here."

)()()()()(

"It's a trap," Ratchet said as he looked inside the large pod from the Arctic. "A scraplet trap."

"Unh, an empty scraplet trap," Bulkhead pointed out.

Ratchet transformed his light back into his hand. "Most likely ejected into space eons ago, only to wind up in the Arctic, where the temperature kept them in stasis."

"Until we brought the thaw," Jack said, metal pipe in his hand. Raf had his crowbar, Miko held a pipe wrench, and Marty had a baseball bat.

"Now they're wide awake and ready to brunch," Miko murmured.

Marty looked up at Ratchet. "So how many are we talking about?"

"Thousands. And the power malfunctions and ground bridge damage are sure signs that their infestation is well underway."

Marty furrowed her brow. If the ground bridge was down they wouldn't be able to bring back Optimius and Arcee. And the Arctic was deadly, even for them. 

)()()()()(

Cold wind whipped around Optimius as he searched the cliff side for any more Cybertronian finds. One hand clung to the wall of ice while he scanned his surroundings. 

A quick beep sounded from his insignia, reminding the Prime of the dangers of the cold. "Arcee," he said into the comm. "What's your status?"

"My sensor's going off," she replied. "Guess we should call for pickup before things get chilly."

Optimius switched the comm channel over. "Optimius to base, core temperature readings have reached the blue zone. Prepare to activate the ground bridge."

He flinched when rough static sounded instead of Ratchet's reply. Optimius frowned under his battle mask. They couldn't stay out there for much longer, and they had no way to reach the base.

)()()()()(

"Ratchet to Optimius, do you read me? We have a situation," the screens turned fuzzy with static. Ratchet slammed his fist down. "The scraplets have gotten into the com-link system! If we don't eradicate these creatures immediately, they will reduce the entire base to a scrap heap!"

Marty furrowed her brow as she stood with the other kids on the platforms.

"I say we bug out and let them keep it!" Bulkhead said. 

Bee buzzed in nervous agreement.

"Evacuation is not an option," The medic's voice was grave. "If we don't get the ground bridge back online stat, Optimius and Arcee will perish."

Marty and Jack glanced at each other, both of them wearing the same worried expression.

"They will?"

"What?"

Miko scowled and turned to her guardian. "Bulkhead, you never run!"

"Miko, you haven't seen a swarm of these things devour a Bot. I have," Bulkhead's eyes betrayed his fear. "They pick you apart from the inside out, going for the small, juicy bits first– Fuse by fuse, circuit by circuit, till there's nothing left, and I mean nothing. Not even your optics."

"You have to let us help," Jack said.

Raf nodded. "We're not made of metal."

"Yeah. The scraplets can't hurt us," Miko said, pointing her thumb at herself.

"Typically, I find your fleshiness to be your least engaging quality," Ratchet said. "But it would appear to provide an advantage under these circumstances."

Marty nodded. "Okay, good. So we'll pair off–one bot one human. Me and Jack will watch your back while you repair the ground bridge," she said to Ratchet.

"And we go on a bug hunt," Miko grinned.

Bulkhead groaned softly and Bee shuddered, but even that did nothing to convey their displeasure.

)()()()()(

"I get to be your bodyguard for once," Miko stated as she and Bulkhead walked through the corridors of the base. "How cool is that?!"

"Raf found the first one here, right?" Bulkhead asked warily.

Suddenly, the lights cut out and a high pitched scream sounded. Miko tensed at the sound. When the lights flickered back on, she turned around to her guardian. "Did you just scream like a little girl?"

"No! Maybe. Can we talk about this later?"

Miko shrugged and continued on, pipe wrench in her hand. As they walked, Bulkhead turned at every little noise. "Take 'er easy, Bulkhead," she said. "Just stay focused. Everything's gonna be–"

Shots fired and Bulkhead screamed again. Miko turned quickly to see what was wrong, but her mouth fell agape when she saw her guardian tangled in cables that had fallen from the ceiling.

"AHHHHH! LOOK OUT!"

Miko bit her lip and sighed. "Okay. Wish I hadn't seen that. Bulkhead! You're fine. It's just a bunch of cables."

Bulkhead stopped screaming and opened is eyes. "Oh. Right. Cables," he grabbed one of them to assure himself, but he must have tugged something loose. Thousands of scraplets came raining down on him, earning more screams.

)()()()()(

"Don't these things ever stop eating?" Raf asked as he and Bee examined a fan vent that was chewed through. The scout readied his weapon and nodded to Raf before pulling off the vent.

Raf shouted as he readied his crowbar, but no scraplets were to be seen. Whirring sounded from the floor vent behind them. Bee looked back in fear as the vent exploded with the creatures.

)()()()()(

Marty gripped her baseball bat tightly as she and Jack stood guard. Ratchet was knelt over the panels in the floor trying his best to fix the ground bridge. Every moment it was down was another moment Optimius and Arcee were stuck, freezing to death.

"How's it going over there?" Jack asked.

"I've repaired the damaged conductors and rerouted the central conduits, but the ground bridge still won't receive power!" The medic grunted.

A soft clicking reached Marty's ears. She furrowed her brow and turned. She stifled a gasp when she saw the hundreds of scraplets sticking to the wall above them. Jack's grip on his pipe tightened.

In an instant, the creatures swarmed them, flying through the base. 

Flying??

"They fly?!" Marty shouted. "You never said they could fly!"

Ratchet said nothing in response, seeing as the scraplets had already began to chew into his side.

"Ratchet!" Jack cried as the two teens rushed to help him. Marty swung vigorously at the creatures attacking Ratchet, but for every one she destroyed, three took its place.

"The fire extinguisher!" Ratchet cried.

Marty snapped her head to the red can of flame retardant. Of course! She ran over and grabbed it, spraying the scraplets with the freezing foam. 

Together, Jack and Marty fought off the scraplets attacking Ratchet. His paint was marred, but he was alive.

But it wasn't over. Another swarm flew above them just as the others walked in, the Bots chewed to bits.

"Ratchet," Bulkhead said as he limped in. "Get the patch kit. We're leaking Energon like– Whoa!"

The scraplets attacked, leaving no room for mercy. Marty panted as she sprayed the fire extinguisher on the swarm. There were so many, and the Bots were already so weak. How were they going to do this?!

)()()()()(

Optimius fought the urge to close his eyes as he and Arcee sat under the small overhang. It did little to shelter them from the cold, but it did dampen the raging winds. Arcee had curled in on herself, burying her face in her arms.

Optimius looked over to check on her and found her eyes were closed. "Arcee, wake up," he ordered.

Her head snapped up as she rubbed her eyes. "Just resting my eyes."

"The longer we remain alert, the longer we remain alive."

"What do you suggest? Wait," Arcee held up her finger. "How about a game? Let's play Who Screwed Things Up Back At Base?."

"Our predicament could be the result of a simple malfunction," Optimius reminded her. It wasn't often the comms stopped working, but Ratchet did complain about human technology often.

"Caused by Bulkhead," Arcee added. "Let's see. No com-link. Maybe even no power. The big lug probably tripped over a cord. He's never been too graceful," she smiled to herself, rubbing her hands over her shaking arms. "Remember when we first arrived on Earth and Bulkhead walked into those power lines? Who knew he could dance like that?"

"Bulkhead may be....too big for this world," Optimius said. "but his inner strength is without bounds. One should not be measured by size alone."

It wasn't something he took into consideration until they met the humans. But all of them proved that they weren't just kids that needed to be protected, that they could handle themselves in perilous situations. Jack giving sound advice. Miko with her optimistic and go-getter views. Raf using his skills to fix and help their own technology. Martha with her ability to see situations clearly and without letting her emotions cloud her view.

And while he had faith that Ratchet would bring them home, Optimius worried he would never see his charge again. Especially after he had promised to bring her and Raf a snowball.

)()()()()(

The kids took care of the last of the scraplets as the Bots rested–or rather, didn't die–on the floor.

"We get them all?" Jack asked, hefting his steel pipe over his shoulder.

A faint but harsh whirring sounded from the tunnels.

"Hardly," Ratchet said. "These were just scouts."

Bee whirred weakly and Bulkhead let out a groan. "So, the rest of them know know we're in here?"

"And if we allow ourselves to become their next meal, Optimius and Arcee will never make it home. We must get the ground bridge operational," Ratchet's words sounded forced, like it took an incredible effort to get them out.

A worry crease formed in Marty's brow. The Bots were leaking Energon at a dangerous rate, and Optimius and Arcee were stuck in a frozen wasteland. 

"Then we can use it to send the scraplets anywhere on Earth," Raf noted.

Marty glanced down at the empty fire extinguisher in her hands. "Why not back to the Arctic?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah, we already know they don't do cold."

"Sweet!" Miko pounded her wrench in her hand. "One stop shopping."

"Given the body mass of the scraplets, sub-zero temperature should freeze them on contact," Ratchet murmured to himself. "So think, Ratchet, think! If the ground bridge is still down, there must be a breach in the Energon fuel line," his eyes lit up as he realized the problem.

Bee buzzed a groan as he tried and failed to sit up. 

"If we weren't breaching, one of us could get back over there and fix it," Bulkhead griped.

Marty clenched her fists. "Where do we find it and how do we fix it?" She wasn't going to lose Optimius. Not when she could do something about it.

)()()()()(

Marty tip-toed around the crawling scraplets that covered the floor of the tunnels. The others did the same as they advanced to the breach.

"Remember, we're okay," Jack reminded them. "We're not made of metal."

Marty's eyes found a blue puddle streaming from a pipe. "There's the breach. Come on. We have to work fast."

Jack grabbed the welder and mask from his tool box and prepped the area to work.

)()()()()(

As they sat weakly on the ground, a question made it's way to the front of Bulkhead's mind. "So, if we get–when we get the ground bridge open, do we send the creepy-crawlies out or bring our Bots in?"

"Optimius and Arcee will be fresh meat," Ratchet realized. "If we bring them in first, the scraplets will have no reason to leave. We'll need bait."

"Where are we gonna get bait?!" Bulkhead snapped. "The scraplets already helped themselves to everything in here!"

Suddenly, the faint sound of the creatures grew closer. Bumblebee shook with fear as they true reality of the situation set in: they were going to be eaten alive.

)()()()()(

Optimius had given up on trying to stay awake. Everything in his frozen systems beckoned him to close his eyes, to let the tundra overtake him.

"You know the worst part?" Arcee asked weakly. "After battling Cons all these years– Getting smacked down, shot at, blown up– This is how our lights go out?"

It was rather ironic.

Optimius had never put too much thought into how he was to die, mainly because he was leading the war. Much like Arcee, he had assumed it would be in the heat of battle, not on the cold, lonely Arctic. But perhaps it wasn't as lonely as it seemed. After all, not many had the privilege of being with a loved one during the final moments.

"Arcee," Optimius addressed his long time friend. "This may not be the finish we planned, but if this is indeed the end–" Arcee's hand rested atop his. He welcomed her gesture, taking her smaller hand in his larger one. "–if we are to become one with the Allspark..."

"It's been an honor serving with you, Optimius Prime," Arcee said. Her words were bittersweet.

Optimius rested his head back on the snow, wishing he could die without regrets. But Marty's image was brought to the front of his mind. She never really showed her true emotions, but she'd opened up more to Optimius than to anyone else. He knew the ones who were supposed to love her the most left her. He couldn't do that to her, not like this.

)()()()()(

"Ratchet! All systems go!" Jack shouted as the kids ran back into the main hangar.

"Fire it up!" Miko cried.

Ratchet mustered all the strength he had left and stood. "Ground bridge... activated," he pulled the lever, falling as he did.

)()()()()(

A familiar whoosh sounded, prompting Optimius to lift his head. His eyes widened when he saw the ground bridge portal waiting for them.

It wasn't the end after all.

)()()()()(

Bulkhead looked at the portal, then back at the scraplets above them. "Bait, huh?" He stood and waved his arms, getting the creatures attention. "Ready for the main course? Come and get it!" 

He limped into the portal, the scraplets following. Bee tried to sit up to watch him go, but Ratchet held him down to protect him from the barrage of creatures.

)()()()()(

Every step to the ground bridge was agony. Optimius and Arcee could barely even stand for two steps, but they were so close to going home.

A figure emerged from the portal. Optimius squinted to see it, surprised to see it was Bulkhead.

"Down! Down!" He cried before falling to the ground.

Behind him came hundreds of little metal balls. Too late Optimius realized they were scraplets. He tensed, waiting for them to dig into him. He was too weak to stop them. But instead of the expected pain, all he felt was the creatures hitting him and falling to the ground.

They had frozen to death.

"I'd invite you in," Bulkhead said. "but the place is a mess."

)()()()()(

Marty brushed her hair out of her eyes as she looked at her laptop. It was connected to Arcee's Energon IV drip and was monitoring her. Jack, Miko, and Raf worked with her, checking on the Bots' condition.

"Report bio-circuitry status," Ratchet said as he sat down next to Optimius.

"Levels are rising," Jack reported.

"Excellent. Rafael keep a close watch on Bumblebee's electro-pulse monitor. Miko, check Bulkhead's interface patch. Martha, how's Arcee's Energon thaw?"

"It's steady," Raf said.

Miko gave a thumbs up. "Looking good."

Marty nodded to Ratchet. "It's warming up steadily," she glanced to Optimius, offering a smile before turning back to her work.

"Perhaps you should get some rest yourself, old friend," Optimius told the medic. "You save quite a few lives today."

"It...wasn't all my doing," Ratchet admitted as he gazed down at the kids. "We're just fortunate that his infestation happened on a Saturday."

Optimius nodded. "Our human friends may be small, but they are strong."

An ear piercing shriek filled the air. Marty grabbed her baseball bat as the Jack and Raf grabbed their weapons.

"Scraplet?!" The brunette asked with an iron grip.

"Spider!" Miko screamed. "Is it on me?! Aah!" She ran off, reaching for places the spider could be. "Get it off! Get it off! Getitoff!!!"

"Did she just scream like a little girl?" Bulkhead asked as his usually fearless charge scampered off.

Previous

Next

[thepersonnamedsam]

prologue

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

summary: where charles met loire for the first time

word count: 2.4k

warnings: none

note: i am sooooo excited for you to read this, i hope you are too

masterlist / taglist

The wind blew through her hair and made it hard for her to see. Her eyes were blinking fast trying to stay open. She breathed in and then out, closed her eyes for a second and opened them again to see the plaza before her. She looked at the people; there was a guy with a baby blue shirt on, his belly was huge and he was licking away on an ice cream. Next to him was standing a rather timid woman, her green maxi skirt was flowing in the wind and she looked at the man. Children were playing around and parents were sitting on the benches. Next to her was a young woman with shaggy dyed blonde hair. Her smile was huge and showed her withe teeth. In front of her was a cajon; a wooden box you could drum on. Next to her was her best friend Chelsea waiting to busk the place away.

The guitar in her hand was suddenly heavy. She felt the weight in her arms, how the strap did almost nothing to support the weight of the guitar. The microphone stood before her, long and proud and just waited to be used. The speakers, one on each side of them waited patiently, at least it seemed like it.

She brushed some hair out of her face and turned to look at Chelsea. Her eyes searched her green ones. „When do you think they’re coming? Shouldn’t they be here already“ Nervousness laced through her voice. She looked once more at the people, to see if anyone was waiting inpatient for them to start playing. Chelsea only shrugged - she wished she had her carelessness.

Chelsea was a woman who was never stressed, there was not a thing that could bother her - well actually maybe animal cruelty or body shaming or misogyny or homophobia or - you name it. But still, she was a young woman who was just living her life to the fullest.

„Don’t worry Loire, they’re coming“, Chelsea reassured her. She closed her eyes once again, trying to calm down. The breeze was loud around her ears, but she still heard the people talking. She also heard some pigeons or other birds making sounds. She heard the sea crashing against the shore, something she only heard if she really listened to it. Her ears perked up when she heard someone laughing - Milo! It was Milo who was laughing alongside Parker.

I swear to god, if they don’t show up with their instruments I will twist their heads around until it makes that god awful snap sound.

She opened her eyes to look around the plaza to find them walking towards her and Chelsea. Big smiles on their faces and their instruments. Milo carried their keyboard and Parker had his guitar on his back. No murder was going to happen.

Loire smiled when the two approached me them, she couldn’t hold a grudge against them even if she wanted to. They were her best friends, how could she ever be mad at them. Milo went and hugged Loire, whispering their apology in to her ear. When they moved to Chelsea and kissed her, Parker went up to Loire with a shit eating grin on his face. He didn’t even apologise for being late, he was always late and Loire knew that, but she always worried about them.

„Hello belle, how are you?“, he asked her after their hug. She glared at him, but the small smile tugging around her lips was a give away that she wasn’t actually angry.

They connected Parker’s guitar to the amp, the same with Milos keyboard and they were ready to jam. Expect that the moment Chelsea started counting down, Loire met the most gorgeous eyes she has ever seen; green and full of wonder and curiosity. The face that belonged to the eyes was just as handsome, if not more. His lips pink and curled to a light smile. The stranger looked at her just as much as she was looking at him. Her breath hitched as she realised that he was staring back at her.

The world stopped around her and it seemed like a ray of light was shining down on him. He stopped in his tracks and waited until they started playing.

What kind of romance novel is going on here?

Only then she realised that she was supposed to start singing. She looked apologetic at Chelsea and her other band members and they started again. The tunes of Whole Again by Atomic Kitten started to play. Loire closed her eyes once again, took a deep breath in and started to sing.

When Loire sang, she was in her own world. Nothing mattered and nothing was going on, just her singing and the feeling that music gave her. The tingles through her body and the warm sensation forming in her gut - music was her everything and there’s never gonna be anything that could top this feeling.

Charles was looking at the band. He should’ve already been at his mothers, his yearly haircut was due, but something drew him to them, no, something drew him to her. Her brown eyes, her curls and her smile. Everything he saw was just magnificent, there was no other word that could describe her. And when she started singing, god, he wanted to save her voice and let it play out when he couldn’t sleep. So smooth and easy to listen to. He too had to close his eyes for a moment, the sensation too overwhelming.

Her voice reached his ears and his brain turned the waves into hormones, emotions of you want. Emotions he hasn’t felt in a long time; happiness and love. Charles was content, even just for the moment. Content with his life, with his recent change from Alpha Sauber to Ferrari, he felt content the way his mum cut his hair and the way that Arthur was still cheering him on from the sidelines. Even though his life was mostly purely stressed and so, so heavy, in this moment he felt light. Her voice smoothed him out and whispered new life into his body.

He opened his eyes again, hers still closed. He tried to get a better look at her. He counted 47 freckles on her nose and cheeks, well only from afar. She had 7 loose strands, probably from all the wind. Her mouth moved with the words and he saw the slight gap between the two front teeth - so little, people mostly didn’t notice, but Charles did. He was fascinated by her. The way her arms were stretched out and moved with the music. The bat wings her sleeves created. The way she smiled at the lyrics and just sang carefree. Her body looked like she would start to dance any second - and he was prepared to dance with her.

The music stopped and she opened her eyes again, he was still shamelessly starring at her and she blushed. The rose colour slowly started to creep up her neck and finally reached her cheeks. Charles noticed how she couldn’t stand his gaze anymore. The drummer started to count again and Loire was mouthing something. Charles snapped out of his haze and listened to her words.

„Merci, thank you all for listening to us! We’re Jehanne and this is an original song.“

Loire risked a glance at the handsome stranger, only to realise that he was still starring at her. Her heart was beating hard in her chest. It almost raced. Why should this absolute god of a man stare at her? But there was no time to think such thoughts, as Chelsea already started the beat of their very first own song; Look at us now (Honeycomb). Chelsea wrote the song the evening she met Milo. She was head over heals for them. So that evening when she came home from her hike - where she met Milo - she wrote it down in ten minutes, ran over to Loire’s appartement and showed her the lyrics. Loire instantly had a melody in mind and grabbed her guitar.

It turned into a whole writing session. The two sat on the ground, Loire with her guitar in her hand and Chelsea with her pen and book in front of her. When Loire first sang the chorus, Chelsea started to cry, which she almost never did, well not in front of people. Loire knew it wasn’t a song to be sung alone, so she asked Chelsea who she wrote it about. And she told her about this person she met on her hike and how they looked so good but so shy at the same time. And how she went up to them and just chatted about the view and how they instantly clicked. The world was not moving the moment Milo and Chelsea met for the first time. Chelsea told Loire how Milo played the keys and how his friend Parker, who was struggling to move up the mountain, played the guitar and how they were looking for some people to jam. That’s when Loire knew, that she had to sing the song with Milo - and that they had to start a band.

Parker laughed when Milo told him about the idea Chelsea pitched them. Start a band with two complete strangers? Yeah, no. But Milo reasons with how Chelsea was their love of their life and how they would meet Loire either way. And how they could finally persuade their dream of playing music together. But Parker still only laughed, until he heard Loire sing for the first time. His reaction was similar to Charles‘ right now. Amazed and star struck. He instantly agreed. Loire gave Parker her chords to Honeycomb and they started to arrange them to fit his playing style. Chelsea and Milo started on the arrangement on the keyboard and after about two hours, they had a song worth recording.

„We unraveled a long time ago

We lost and couldn't let it go

I wish it was easy but it isn't so“, he heard her sing. And he felt the lyrics deep in his chest, even though he couldn’t place why he felt them, he still did. He saw her eyes scan the people around him, trying hard not to look at him. He saw how her eyes got stuck on a figure behind him. He slowly looked around and saw a young woman standing there and even though the temperature reached a high of 27°C that day, she was still wearing black jeans and a long sleeve. He turned back around to look at Loire, only to notice the watery eyes and the pain in her voice.

Loire didn’t think she would show up. She thought she would never see her again, after what she said to her. She thought Freya scrambled away and planned her getaway long before it all happened. And she was sorry, sorry for the way she spoke to her and sorry how she treated her. But she was glad she was there, it might be a good sign. A sign she would join the band again. But Loire didn’t want to get her hopes up, after all what she’d done.

„I swear to god Freya, grow the fuck up. Did you really think I would want to have a serious relationship with you?“ It was the last thing Loire said to Freya. It happened after they had made a demo and the last song they recorded was Honeycomb. Freya had asked Loire if the lyrics were about her, but Loire only laughed. She didn’t laugh because she found it funny that Freya would think that, no, she laughed because she thought she knew it was the love song for Chelsea and Milo. But Freya caught the laugh as a threat and now at something nice.

„You know what? Fuck you, Loire. I thought we had something, seriously, all the dinners and the kisses“, Freya screamed at Loire, deep in her heart she knew that her and Loire would never work out, that’s why it hurt much more as the reality became the truth.

In the end, everyone knew Freya would join the band once again, as she never really left it. She only had to find her calmness again before she could face the reality once again.

Charles sensed some uneasiness between the two, but forced himself to only pay attention to the singer in front of him. He ignored the ringing in his jeans. He ignored the looks and whispers he received. And he also ignored the time. The only thing that mattered was Loire. And as they finished their set, he was determined to talk to her. With long strides and a smug look on his face, he made his way over to her, but his facade all crumbled when she first smiled at him. His legs turned into pudding and his heart started beating. What does this woman do to him?

„Hi there“, she smiled at him. She wasn’t unfamiliar with people approaching her after a busking set, but this time it was different, this time it was Charles who approached her and not some people.

He smiled shyly at her and raised his hand to wave. She smiled at him in return. Charles wanted to open his mouth and say how much her voice touched him, but he just couldn’t find the right words. And as he finally had them laid out in front of him, he finally noticed the constant ringing of his phone in his pocket. He excused himself to answer the phone.

The voice yelled at him and even Loire could pick up a few words, such as; get down here, now! and, if you think you won’t get away with it, you’re wrong. He completely forgot his mission and took off. But he hoped she would be there tomorrow too and that he could talk to her then. Only to find out that she wasn’t there the next day, and the day after. And as he had to travel to the next race, he had long forgotten why he had wandered to that plaza that weekend.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @whatthefuckerr

[a-strange-inkling]

Day 22: Christmas Dinner

Chicago, Illinois 1988

“You’re hogging her!” Wayne exclaims from where he’s sitting on the couch, his hands out impatiently. “Let me hold that little munchkin.”

“No!” Eddie replies just as fiercely, only half joking when he tucks his infant daughter closer to him. “You just had her! She’s mine! I made her!”

“And I kept you alive long enough so you could make her, boy, you owe me,” Wayne counters warningly as he stands. “I can still kick your ass, you know, now hand her over!”

“No! Chrissy!” Eddie calls, putting up his foot to stop his uncle. “He’s trying to take my baby from me!”

“You get to hold her all the time, let Wayne have a turn.” she tells him from where she’s working in the kitchenette. “I need your help over here anyway.”

“You heard her!” Wayne quips.

Eddie puffs out a good natured smile, rising from where he and Olivia were cozy in the armchair and gently passing her to her great uncle.

Wayne chuckles in triumph and delight when those beautiful dark orbs turn up to him. Livvy’s a sweet, quiet child, all eyes. “Precious little blessing,” he coos, sitting back down with her. “Good lord, this brings me back.”

“Baby thief.” Eddie mutters, coming up behind Chrissy, who’s straining boiling water out of a pot. “Just watch, he’ll never give her back now.”

“He’s only got her till tomorrow afternoon.” she points out with a smile. “You let him hold that baby as long as he’d like.”

“Ugh, fine…” he mumbles. “What do you need me to do, sweetheart?” he scratches the top of her head from behind, making her smile up at him, arching her head up like a cat at his touch.

“You can start mashing… Oh! Check your chicken first!” she replies hastily.

He winks back at her as he grabs an oven mit. “I’m never going to live down last year, am I?”

“…You did set it on fire.” she giggles as he peers into their little oven. The bird is getting golden, but no grease fire in sight. Always a plus.

“Yeah, well, I’ve already set myself on fire this year,” he reminds her, motioning towards his hair with a tight smile. “Hopefully I’ve met my quota.”

“Please, do you know how many times he almost set the trailer on fire, Chrissy?” Wayne asks, in between making faces at Livvy, coaxing a quirky little smile out of her. “Take a guess.”

“Heh, just go ahead and tell her,” Eddie claps back at him with a grin and a careless wave of his hand as he starts mashing the boiled potatoes. “She can’t leave now, she’s bound by contract.”

“I’m going to say…” Chrissy looks him up and down. He wriggles his brows at her playfully. “Five.”

“Nine.” Wayne corrects.

“Eddie!” she gasps in astonishment.

“Nine?” Eddie snaps his head up in confusion. “Please, it was only ever seven.”

“You’re forgetting the pop tart,” Wayne reminds him. “And that time your dang amp overheated.”

“Oh, yeah…” he admits with a small snicker, looking upward in amusement.

“Are you counting the time when he built that bonfire…”

Eddie clears his throat loudly, shooting Chrissy a sharp warning look, making her slap a hand over her mouth, muffling a laugh.

They all sit down at their little table with the traditional Munson spread of roast chicken, refrigerated dinner rolls, mashed potatoes and green bean casserole. A meal Wayne always managed to put together for Eddie every year, despite his grueling hours at the plant. Quaint, but very hearty. Chrissy loves this meal because last Christmas was the first one where she was able to eat as much as she wanted.

“Christ, Ed, you were such a troublemaker.” Wayne muses as he hands Olivia to Chrissy so she can strap her into her highchair. “This little one is much too sweet for the likes of you.”

Eddie smiles smugly at that, remembering all of those times he was picked up at the school or the hospital or the police station and how Wayne would rant the whole way home about how he couldn’t wait for him to someday have a kid of his own so that they would put him through everything that he put Wayne through.

“Heh, that’s right! I lucked out, old man, she’s an angel, just like her mother.” Eddie crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair. “Guess they're just not getting those messages of yours upstairs.”

“You just wait, kid.” Wayne points his fork at him. “I’m praying on my knees every night for your next child to be a little boy just like you.”

@hellcheerxmas

[hostofyama]

Jason Grace deserves more recognition

As a person who read HoO first I had a unbiased perspective on the series I saw Jason for wat he was and idolized him for it he was one of the best shafted MC’s I’ve ever seen even throughout all the bs Rick put him through people forget to look at Jason’s life from a real life perspective he has one of the worst lives in the series even with the little information we kno this man was separated from his already dysfunctional family at 2! raised and trained by wolves until he was 3 then admitted into an army as a TODDLER keep in mind the camp is named after this man’s father with the expectations people had on him he was perceived more as a movie or comic character who u knew had to live up to the standards set what made it worst is Jason never wanted to be the chosen one but nonetheless he still never faltered bcuz in his mind if not him who else? constantly met or exceeded the expectations over and over furthering this image no one considering how he felt or what he thought when it came to himself fast forward Jason has served 12 years in the legion the most for his age in history and risen through the ranks as a compassionate composed leader it took the Nico moment for people to see Jason’s empathy but even as far back as choosing his cohort they wanted to automatically admit him to the first cohort and best cohort but he chose the shunned and frowned upon 5th cohort out of dislike of the stereotype and to try to alter his destiny of a son of Jupiter making his own path he brought glory to it by accomplishing all sorts of things such as killing the Trojan sea monster which was said to be the size of a sky scraper, killing ghouls and returning bacchus leopard,and the feat that rose him to the rank of praetor when he fought krios won and toppled Kronos throne Jason tried to be the best praetor he could even trying to change sum traditions such as the name of the legion to 1st symbolizing renewal Jason’s entire career at Camp Jupiter had been built on careful choices. He mediated between demigods, listened to all sides of an argument, and made compromises. He was always the leader and never on a team of equals now after doing everything everyone expected of him never really taking the time to think much of his desires or personal life in general shown by him not being aware of reyna’s feelings Jason just grew to fill the shoes he was given even if he didn’t want to wear them THEN the person who took him from his family wiped his memory and put him on a bus with 2 people with false memories claiming to be his friend and gf I don’t understand how people don’t get how disorienting that is atleast Percy remembered annabeth he still got the better treatment even though Jason got shafted his whole life and writing wise also under is a short post I made about people ignoring Jason’s life personality and feats sorry for the rant but I hate that jason couldn’t catch a break in life death or reality and don’t get me started on what Rick did to him and piper in ToA😞

It’s as if jason story doesn’t exist bcuz rick doesn’t fully tell it people give so many accurate defenses for Jason and most get brushed off or unheard it’s crazy how a undisputed top 3 demigod of his generation lore and logic wise is disrespected so much there was literally a trend on TikTok of Jason saying he could’ve killed percy and it being treated as a joke AS IF ANY OTHER CHARACTER COULD SAY THE SAME OR LEGITIMATELY GIVE HIM A CHALLENGE without amps 🤦🏾‍♂️ ts is ridiculous he barely have feats and people still ignore them like how many of y’all kno this man had a hand in slaying the most giants and was the only one to 1v1 one and hold his ground for an extended period of time then proceed to fight wolves and injure the king giant shit doesn’t make any sense I’m also here for any LOGICAL disputes

[vicky82gargoylesfan]

My Thoughts on Gargoyles Issue 6: Underwater

Another great issue with a few jaw dropping, surprising moments.

spoilers

Brooklyn is Narrating, he seems to be struggling as leader, while Goliath is in Prison. He doesn’t think he’s doing anything right.

Goliath refuses to be rescued and thinks it’s best he stays because he thinks it will make things worse.

So Dino Dracon tries to blow up Grisha Volkov. I thought it was going to be a first character death for this comic but he survives, he is badly injured though. 

Volkov thinks Brod and Dane are behind the bombing and asks his son to get rid of Brod. We don’t see his son at first but it made me think that we already know this character and made me keep guessing throughout the comic.

So now Dino Dracon has got Sanchez vs Yingpei and Brod/Dane vs Volkov and is now going after Izaak Slaughter.

So It was Xanatos who hired Tobe Crest to be Goliath’s Lawyer, Hmm i’m starting to think it was Xanatos who donated the resources to the Gargoyles Task Force. He did have this plan during the SLG series and Phase 1 was the Halloween Party.

Brooklyn asks Coldstone and Coldfire to protect them during the day, as he still doesn’t trust Xanatos. I wonder he knows something about Xanatos during his Timedancing journey.

John Casterway is back, I wonder who he is standing next to him.

This took me by surprise, Antoinette visiting Broadway asking for help to stop her uncle. I know that Tony must have told his sister about the Gargoyles but how did she know where they lived? Did she just guess or has connections. The castle is under lockdown too, unless that was only for the day time. 

I’m not trusting her at the moment but also concerned about her at the same time because if Dino finds out that she’s been going behind his back and trying to stop him, she could be in big trouble. I do have a theory that she could end up in Sevarius hands, he does have a syringe with Angela’s DNA in it and he was going to use it on Robyn Canmore in the Bad Guys comic series.

I love the 2 page spread of Brooklyn Timedancing Journey:-

- 210 bce Brooklyn visits China and come across the Terra-Cotta Soldiers.

- 2198, Thought that his visit to 2198 happened before he met Katana but she’s with him, unless he visit’s it twice. I wonder if lost his eye during 2198.

- 1942, visit’s USS Nashville.

Broadway ignores Brooklyn’s orders about staying at the castle and goes to Izaak Slaughter film studios, assuming to warn him about Dino Dracon or help him.

Lex follows him. I just love their little chat. Broadway ask’s Lex if he wants to be his Second for his and Angela’s Mating Ceremony, Lex says yes. Also Broadway asking Lex about his long distance chat with Amp, Lex just smiles and quickly changes the subject.

So how did Dino Dracon get a hold of Cyberbiotics drone bots, did they buy them or steal them.

The ending was a surprise, turns out Volkov son is Wolf, he wants to get rid of Brod but with Tony in the same Prison cell as him, Wolf ask’s Dino is it ok if Tony get’s caught up in the crossfire too, which he’s fine with. Wolf will also try to get rid of Goliath too. So is he going alone or is Jackal and Hyena going with him too.

Demona returns in issue 7, I can’t wait but I wonder how she fits into all this, i’m excited.

[dragon-kazansky]

A living nightmare

Part of the Murder Bird series

Gender neutral reader

Lets get this series back on the road, eh? 😉

Spoilers for episode 6!!!

♡♡♡

Harrow lay you down gently. You had passed out after he had told you everything Khonshu would not. He felt sorry for you. Really, he did. Had Khonshu not interfered, Arthur would have taken care of you among his followers. But Khonshu had prevented that and had taken you away all together.

Once he had you laying comfortably, he turns to Marc. He leaves the gold scarab on top of his body. This could have gone so differently.

The follower to his right hands him Ammit in her stone prison. He holds it carefully, looking at her. At last, all he has done will come to fruition. He stands, leaving you to rest for a moment, and addresses his followers.

You wake while he is talking. Your head hurts. You have to blink your eyes several times to focus on the room.

It all comes flooding back to you.

The tomb. Harrow. Marc... Khonshu.

A tear falls. You remember. You remember the day you met him for the first time, and the day he made you forget.

"Khonshu..."

You realise you're not laying there alone. Your heart breaks. Marc... he's dead. You find the strength to sit up and scoot over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders.

"Marc..."

No response. Of course not. He was dead.

You don't get to mourn for long. Harrow has stopped talking and returned to your side. You startle as he places his hand on your shoulder.

"We need to go."

You shake your head. Harrow sighs softly as he crouches down beside you. He looks at you with sad eyes.

"You killed him..." You whisper.

"I did what had to be done."

You shake your head again. Harrow puts his arm around you and holds you in, what you can only assume is suppose to be, a comforting manner. It wasn't very comforting.

"We need to go."

You say nothing. Harrow is gentle with you as he helps you up and guides you away from Marc's body.

It's like you have no control over yourself. You go with him without a fight. Unable to process everything that had just happened.

You're afraid.

You want Khonshu back.

He would keep you safe.

Marc... oh, Marc...

Layla watches you go from her hiding spot. As much as she wanted to dive in a rescue you, she would only cause more trouble than it was worth. She he hurries over to Marc's body once you're all out of sight. She calls his name. Nothing. He's gone.

Layla tries not to cry, but it's pointless, the tears are already falling.

The gold scarab lays on top of Marc's chest.

Harrow has Ammit.

You're with Harrow.

She can find you, and kill him.

Grabbing the scarab, she gets up and takes off. Without Khonshu, without Marc, you're in danger. Layla can still save you.

She will kill that man for what he's done.

She'll stop him.

She has to.

♡♡♡

@pickle-rick-y @endless-starzz @popcorn36274 @the-chaotic-cow @zafiro-draco @sunnypop02 @galaxypox @starkiller-queen @amp-le @manque-damour @lo0nylexi @jossambird @isa-grant @that-one-short-human @a-hopeless-fan @ancientbeing10 @draarnaak @shohannie

[obey-me-rot]

You're Mine

A/N: I guess as a writing blog I should be doing some writing right? Honestly this has just been the biggest headcanon I've had in a while since I started playing Obey Me of the brothers just...like Devildom culture must be so different! And then the whole pact thing with human masters must be so different as well! I just view them as big animals just wanting to get your attention u wu. Warnings: Jealous boys, public shows of dominance and a lot of biting.

It's almost painful being in the Devildom sometimes.

A cultural exchange program amped up to 100 %.

As much as you loved the brothers, you also were meeting some pretty cool demons in RAD. Surely you were the human student everyone was so excited to meet, but none of them really talked to you, you know? But there were some that were brave enough to overlook your pact marks and dive into a conversation.

Even some were bold enough to talk to you out of school!

Making so many friends was so exciting, especially since you still thought of yourself as new! Wait till the brothers see how many new demons you have met!

Problem is you forgot how weird demon culture is, especially when it has to do with a demon and their master.

"MC?"

Lucifer blinks as he notices the demon approaching the two of you, pausing your daily walk with him as confusion turns to familiarity and you run up to greet your friend.

The first thing he notices is how they are a low ranking demon, so there’s no need to be hyper aware of any sort of threat. In this instance he doesn’t need to look to make sure his pact mark is visible to the demon.

His mark was embedded right in your iris, so anyone could see whose protection you were under.

He smiles politely as you turn around to introduce them, the demon waving at him shyly as if remembering that, yes, this human made a pact with Lucifer and therefore should not be messed with in any way. Yet there was no sort of violent tendencies coming from this demon, which put him at somewhat of an ease.

That is, until the demon takes a hold of your hand.

It’s a simple touch, one that a human would mistaken for a sign of friendship and camaraderie. The demon was speaking excitedly about a new flower they had seen over at the Botanical gardens and how much they wanted to show it off to you.They tighten their hold and Lucifer has to dig his fingernails into his palm from ripping their hand off.

You had no idea what it meant and the action would most likely scare you.

And Lucifer wanted you to trust him as much as possible.

“Would it be okay if Lucifer comes along?”

“...y--yeah! I don’t mind!”

Hesitation mixed with fake happiness, this demon really thought that he would get some time alone with you, didn’t they? They probably planned this whole thing out and whatever excitement they were showing you was just a front to hide their true intentions. Besides, look how they are hanging off of you, they want to make a pact with you so badly it’s almost disgusting.

Might as well get rid of the pest now.

“Come on MC, I want to show you the huge petals--!”

“OW!”

You and the demon look back to see Lucifer biting down on one of your fingers, your ring finger to be exact, while making eye contact with the pest. His teeth are not necessarily breaking skin but the pain of the bite made all your attention go back on him, turning around to tug your finger away and cradle it close. “Lucifer what the hell!”

He smiles and tells you not to worry about it, your retort falling on deaf ears as Lucifer’s eyes fall on the demon one more time. Their eyes are wide and they have immediately taken two steps back, their back as straight as a needle as Lucifer sends them one last look that lets them know of his intentions.

Leave now or I will gut you in front of my human.

You turn to apologize to your friend for putting them in such a weird situation but the demon is already long gone, no sign of them ever being in your presence as you look around aimlessly.

“They left...” you frown and look at Lucifer, “Next time at least warn me.”

“If I did then you would have probably forbidden me from doing so.”

The Avatar of Pride smiles as he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you kept talking about how you would apologize the next day. But Lucifer wasn’t listening, he just kept staring at you as you talked, happy that his master wasn’t particularly mad.

That demon would have to learn to get his own, this human was already his.

He had finally gotten you all to himself.

Mammon had a photoshoot today, making you tag along so he could finally show off his modeling skills. And it would help him out as well. The product they were trying to sell did not appeal to him one bit and he just really needed you as inspiration.

And inspiration did you give.

“Oh gorgeous Mammon gorgeous! Lean back and close your eyes.”

The cameraman was giving him compliment after compliment, excellent after excellent, it was as if all eyes were on him at that exact moment. He smiled as he thought about how you must be looking at him. His shirt was open, letting the cloth hang off the side of the couch as the camera focused primarily on the low riding jeans that showed off the boxers he was promoting.

“Perfect! Perfect!! Now turn around and stare into the camera!”

His eyes opened and his head turned expertly, Mammon smiling as he tried to make eye contact with you--

Only to see that you were gone.

Camera flashes stop as he bolts up, turning to look for you before his eyes focused on your form.

There you were...talking with someone else.

“Mammon?”

He doesn’t stare at the cameraman, only gets up and stalks towards you and the demon currently holding up the lights. Both of you turn to face him, a voice speaking loudly about a five minute break as Mammon stands behind you and hugs you from behind, placing his chin right on your shoulder as he looks at the interloper.

“Are you taking a break?”

Mammon smiles as he buries his face in your shoulder, hugging you tight as the demon tells him he did a wonderful job. Without raising his head, Mammon speaks up.

“MC, who is this?”

“Oh right! Haven’t introduced you. He is a friend from RAD! We sit together in Pactology 101.”

“Well we used to sit together...”

“We talked way too much in class, didn’t we?”

It’s like nails on a chalkboard when he laughs, Mammon feeling glad that he was closer to you so he could hear the sound of your laughter instead of the ugly screeching of the intruder taking up your attention. Did this guy think he was stupid? That he couldn’t notice all the goddamn pheromones he was releasing? Mammon shakes his head back and forth, breathing in your scent heavily as he tries to leave his own behind.

This guy was embarrassing himself with how badly he wanted to form a pact with you.

“MC.”

“Oh oh, remember when the teacher caught us texting in class?”

“I think he might want to just put us back together cause we are still causing trouble!”

The Avatar of Greed frowns, did you not hear him?

“MC…”

“Well the teacher knows we are a good match, doesn’t he?”

“A match made in hell, I would say.”

Why was this guy still talking? Why were you still listening to him?

“MC….”

“Hey after this...would you want to go get some coffee, MC? If you’re not busy.”

“Nah, I only have this toda---FUCK!”

A pair of teeth tug at your earlobe, Mammon growling in your ear as he makes eye contact with the annoyance in front of him. He should be counting his lucky stars that you were still in the room, if Mammon found him anywhere else this demon would be nothing more than a meal for his familiars.

“MC, you have to stare at me or else I’m going to take longer.”

You rub at your ear as Mammon lets go of you, breaking eye contact with the other demon as he gives you his signature pout. He didn’t want you to see him be all scary, Mammon wanted you to see him like the number one demon he always tried to be for you.

“And you had to bite me because of that!?”

“Because you weren’t paying attention! You have to keep your eyes on me or else I’m not going to sell this stupid product. In fact--”

He drags you back to the couch, yelling at the cameraman that he would be posing with you so he could actually get through this photoshoot instead of doing a solo shoot. The man sighs but calls makeup to get you ready, Mammon smiling as he sits down right next to you.

The farther you were from that guy the better, all of his master’s attention needed to be on him after all.

Of course something like this would happen. Bad luck seemed to follow Leviathan wherever he went.

"Did you see the finale of it live?"

"I did!!! My movie theatre put it on the big screen and everything!"

Levi was glad that you were a nerd just like him. It was refreshing and probably one of the biggest reasons he had decided to make a pact with you.

Well, he had tried to kill you first and then make a pact with you but it was still a special story! Who would have thought that he would land himself a human master with his own interests!

Though he guessed that was a bad thing now.

He couldn't keep his thoughts in check as the clerk of the comic store kept talking to you, Levi annoyed that he couldn't keep up with the conversation you two had. It was about some comic cinematic universe that had been adapted in the human world and he honestly didn’t want to put anymore thought into it because of how close the clerk was getting.

Dammit he should have bought the new manga volume in Akuzon...but you had been so cute irl asking him to get the manga in this comic store you found,and if his master was begging him so cutely then what else could he do?

“I actually got the limited edition of this one movie--”

Nobody cared.

“It was up for a lot in Akuzon but I’m glad I got my hands on it--”

Stop talking!

“And I have a pretty cool viewing set up in the back--!”

Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking to MC!

Levi frowns as you gush about the movie some more, glaring down at you for letting your attention stray from him. But why should he be surprised, of course your attention would stray. Him being the yucky otaku that he is, of course you would go with the demon who took his interest and actually turned it into a profit--

No.

No! It wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t even his fault! It was this demon’s fault!

Thinking they looked so cool with their most basic of interests. If Levi could expose them for the fraud that they were, MC would be able to see the absolute fool that this demon was making themselves out to be. Smiling a lot more, inching closer as they talked, even offering to take you to the back of the store--!

People may say what they want about Levi but at least he wasn’t this desperate to get on the good side of a human...at least the first time he met you.

His eyes fall on the back of your neck, hair conveniently placed out of the way as he remembered something Lucifer had discussed with him and Mammon after they had made their pact.

You will not think rationally when you are with them, make sure to monitor your actions so you don’t embarrass yourself.

That’s what he said but…

Surely Levi wasn’t going to embarrass himself more than this demon already has.

“This is the one with the symbiote creature, right? And you got the bonus deleted scenes! Honestly I would be so down with watching it right--EEP!”

Levi made sure to let his tongue lick the back of your neck first before biting down, wanting to make the bite as painless as possible. Although he guessed that not making you feel pain was out of the question as he felt you tense up, his tongue swiping against your nape one last time as he pulled back and tugged on the back of your shirt.

“MC let’s go. They don’t have it.”

You turn to look at Levi, hand on the back of your neck as you tell him that he could have gotten your attention in any other way, but he knew for a fact that he had made his point across with the demon in front of him.

Summoning Lotan in his own home was one thing, summoning Lotan in a store would probably cost a lot…

Even if he knew brothers wouldn’t blame him with how nauseatingly this demon was trying to approach their master.

“MC, here.”

Satan breaks his pencil, but it seems the two other people don’t seem to notice.

“And it's the first edition too, but I took it out just for you.”

You smile and mention about how you didn’t need anything fancy for the assignment, just a simple book that talked about Devildom history. Which Satan agreed, this bug was acting like he owned the entire Royal Library. A pass to get a first edition title wasn’t that rare of a fucking find--if he wanted, Satan could call up any of his connections and get about 16 copies of different first edition titles that spoke not just about the Devildom history but about whatever the hell topic he could get his hands on.

This guy wasn’t that special yet he was acting like he had just given you the world on a silver platter.

The demon sat down at the table you and Satan were studying at, looking at you the entire time he explained how to open the book and how to make sure it stays in its pristine condition.

Which made Satan break another pencil.

From what you had mentioned, this guy was just someone you knew from RAD. You labeled him as the ‘smartest person in the class’. Which was a bit of an insult on his part but he guessed that as long as he wasn’t the one in your class it didn’t count as an insult towards his person.

He, of course, being the smartest demon you know.

But Satan didn’t have to be the smartest demon in RAD to know what this nuisance was doing.

If he were to read you any book on Devildom demonology, certain demons needed a human master. This insect in front of you would count as one of them. Lower demons usually tend to be without guidance and need a soul to feed from. In comes a human master, being able to fulfill that need with a pure soul of their own. The demon feeds and in return, develops a sort of ‘affection’ towards their master since they are now the hand that feeds them.

The same couldn’t be applied to Satan or his brothers, however. As the seven demon lords, they are able to gain the sustenance they need from the feed of other lower demons under the sin they were made in.

They are free to form pacts, but it’s not like they need it.

A good metaphor would be that they are essentially ‘picking off the plate’ of the lower demons, making the lower demons only cause minimal casualties up in the human world as they feed and keeping the seven lords from going feral with hunger.

Of course, things were different now. Satan had you now, a human all of his own.

Essentially, someone was trying to ‘take a bite’ of his favourite food, and Satan hated sharing.

Friends be damned, politeness be damned, he needed to show this demon his place.

“Isn’t it fascinating? The cover was made with a demon’s skin.”

“....really?”

“Yes. I believe it was from recently dead demon’s during the first Celestial War. Do you want to feel?”

You nod, curious about the black and shiny cover as the demon holds out his hand for you to take--

Only for you to yelp as Satan takes it first, dragging your hand back so it would be close to his lips as the Avatar of Wrath’s teeth bite at the skin near your wrist. You hiss in pain at the sudden sharpness, quickly pulling your hand back and staring at your demon as he gives the annoyance one last pointed stare.

“That is how demons started their pacts before we arrived in the Devildom, wasn’t it?”

The demon nodded slowly, his eyes darting to the mark on your wrist and then back at Satan. He opened his mouth to try and speak up but seemed to decide better against it, giving you one last smile as he stood up. “...I’ll...I’ll go get you the second volume. That one might include more accurate and updated information on pact markings.”

Satan smiles and nods as he scoots his chair close to you, looking back at you tracing the mark on your wrist with a frown before putting all your attention back on him.

“Did demons really used to form pact marks like this?”

The Avatar of Wrath shrugs.

“I was only guessing, he was the one who left thinking it was the truth. Here, let’s go look for a book on our own.”

Asmo would like to think that he had perfected the fake smile to the point he could keep it up for an indeterminate amount of time.

“MC! Try this!”

Yet the corners of his mouth twitched as he watched one of your friends, who happened to be a store clerk at Majolish, open the door to your dressing room to hand you another outfit they had picked out. And it wasn’t a bad outfit--!

Just...did they have to keep opening the door every single time?

Granted, he shouldn’t be in your dressing room in the first place but he insisted he would stay since you were only trying some shirts on! It wasn’t like he was seeing anything inappropriate and your pants were staying on the entire time.

This sight was okay for him because he was your demon and you were his master.

So it wasn’t right that some random nobody kept coming in to hand you shirts that they thought looked cute on you! That’s what you had Asmo for!

Yet here he was, secluded to sit down on the little chairs that someone would usually toss the unwanted clothes they wouldn’t buy. Which was already doing horrible things for his self-esteem.

“I learned a couple of things by working here. See? The color really matches your hair.”

The Avatar of Lust scoffs when he hears that. What exactly did the demon learn? How to match colors? Oh look, someone learned the basics of the color wheel, someone give them a medal.

“And since you are wearing something long at the bottom, it’s only fair that you go with something short on top.”

This demon is going to win an award for making basic observations, Asmo could already see it. What a future they had ahead of them.

“These colors are summery too so...it goes great with the weather!”

Oh he wants to gag, Asmo’s heard enough.

“You don’t think it’s too revealing? I do like the color though…”

Before the demon can answer, Asmo grabs your shoulders and pulls you back to him with a smile as he makes you look in the mirror.

“I think it’s revealing enough for the summer look you are going for...except can you maybe get it in a light pastel? Any color would do it just needs to be a pastel color if we want it to go with the light color of your bottoms.”

The demon deflates at the sudden lack of contact with you but nods as they step out, waving goodbye and stating once again how ‘gorgeous’ you looked. Which Asmo guessed was the only compliment they had in their arsenal.

Gorgeous didn’t even begin to describe you.

“I did like this color, Asmo. Does it not look good?”

“No it looks perfect on you! But--”

He tugs on the floral print top and smiles as he wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“Floral prints are extremely last season and I want you to be on a more neutral type of clothing. Just simple colors. This way we can add some jewelry--some of my own creation of course.”

Asmo smiles when you giggle, fixing your top and looking at yourself in the mirror a couple more times as you mumble to yourself about how Devildom summers seem rather temperate compared to the ones you were used to and how you wouldn’t need anything sleeveless.

Damn the Devildom summers, if they could even be called that at all.

His ears twitch as he hears the pest start to make their way back, Asmo’s smile dropping slowly as he looks down at your neck. This was the spot they kept staring at, wasn’t it? Shame it wasn’t decorated--

But he could fix that~ “I found some other colors that would go well with you MC, do you want to--”

“OW OW OW!”

Asmo’s teeth are right on your neck, turning to look back at the clerk with a smile and a little wave as he hums at the way you clench and unclench your fingers while looking at him through the mirror, wanting to ask just why he was doing this but the pain keeping you quiet. It was cute how much you were hurting but how you were doing absolutely nothing to stop him. This could technically mean that you approved of what he was doing, correct?

He lets go as the clerk immediately closes the door, you calling out for your friend but Asmo brings you back and makes you look at the mirror one more time.

“There we go. That’s a pretty mark, right MC? An Asmodeus Limited Edition item, just for you~”

If this kept happening, Beel was going to eat this demon.

“You need to try some Devildom food, MC! I promise it's good!”

Beel stomach growls again as you laugh, ignoring the parfait in front of you. He gives you a tap on the shoulder and your attention is right back to him. “Oh sorry, Beel. Here!” You scoop up the delicious frozen treat and feed it to him, Beel smiling as he takes another two bites of his hamburger and watches you and your friend talk. He actually had no idea that you had any friends in RAD and was happy to see that at least some demons were treating you nicely, compared to theo ones who had teased you when you first arrived.

Well he said teased, more like threatened to eat you.

He figured you would make friends fast though, you were nice and all the demons here were already attracted to human souls so it was bound to happen that one of them would have the courage to talk to you.

Yet this one seemed rather...eager.

“How about this. Hell’s Kitchen serves good food but I know this awesome corner in the wall place we can get some grilled bat sandwiches. Guts and everything.”

His stomach growls again, he knew of the place this demon was talking about and would most likely want to take you there himself if you ever asked.

Beel takes another two bites before waiting for you to feed him the parfait.

Nothing.

He frowns and stares at you again, the demon keeping your attention all to himself as you spoke about how you didn’t necessarily want to eat anything with guts in it. His eyes went to the parfait, watching some of the perfectly placed scoops slowly melt and droop down on the plate.

MC, pay attention to him!

This was his time with you! He didn’t mind if someone else stepped in and he was glad you were making friends but this demon was interrupting his mealtime!

He ate his burger, you fed him ice-cream, this is how it had always worked!

People could say what they wanted but Beel was a creature of habit, and he was in the habit of having you feed him.

Not just that, he was in the habit of having your attention all on him when it was his time to hang out with you.

Wasn’t this demon just being a bother? Didn’t you also want them gone?

They kept talking about all the stuff that clearly grossed you out, seemingly delighted with your reactions as they kept trying to egg you on to say yes to an outing. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were smiling the entire time, Beel would have already made the move to unhinging his jaw and--

“I promise I’ll treat you to the best ghost pepper pizza you’ve ever had. You’re free after this, right?”

Beel’s stomach growls, whether in hunger or anger Beel wouldn’t be able to say. All he knows is that this demon is bad news for both him and you.

So what would be the quickest way to make him back off?

“I’m not but I can take a raincheck--!”

You drop the spoon you were holding as Beel bites your cheek, throwing the demon one quick glimpse before letting out a few sounds that seemed to make up your name. The demon stares at you and Beel as the Avatar of Gluttony pulls away from you, licking his lips as you slowly put a hand on your cheek and turn to look at him.

“The parfait is gonna melt. I want another bite.”

“Beel…”

Eyes turn to the demon once again, Beel frowning as he takes a hold of your hand underneath the table.

“Please leave. If MC is going to eat Devildom food then they’ll eat it with me. The only thing you are going to do is gross them out.”

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Belphie frowned as your fingers gently played with his hair. That is not what he had asked for when he asked to lay on your lap. Belphegor wanted the usual way you would comb through his hair, both of you gently whispering to each other as the planetarium ambience lulled him to sleep.

“Well...uhm...I wanted to ask something important.”

And who the hell was this person? He peeked up to look at you smiling at the screen, frowning that you still didn’t seem to notice you were doing a shit job at giving him the attention he needed. Whoever this was had been on the line with you for a good solid ten minutes, talking about useless subjects such as their day and what they had for lunch. If anything, Belphegor had no idea how this thing was taking your attention. You were doing most of the talking anyway, they should just hang up and leave you alone to pay attention to your demon.

“We’ve known each other for a while.”

Belphegor most likely knew MC for longer...maybe.

“And honestly I haven’t met a human like you before. You just...I just expected humans to be something and you aren’t that so it threw me off.”

The Avatar of Sloth yawns as he buries his head in your lap, smiling at the darkness he found in the small crook of your thighs. He yawns again and closes his eyes to try and fall asleep but the grating voice of the demon on the phone was sending nothing but warning signals to his brain.

“So I wanted to ask something I didn’t think I would ask a human before.”

He really wanted to yell ‘get to the point’ or ‘hang up the phone’ but he knew that you would most likely shush him and tell him to be patient, which would then result in you gently pushing him away so you could talk somewhere more private. And he wasn’t ready to lose his favourite pillow just yet.

So he continued listening, tracing random shapes on your thighs as he felt his eyelids start to droop.

“I know you have seven pacts already…”

Damn straight.

“But would an eight be too much for you?”

That wakes Belphegor right up, eyes wide open and head turned to face up at you to see your reaction. Of course you would be surprised, this demon really had the guts to ask the current master of the Seven deadliest demons in the Devildom for a pact?

You better be grateful that Belphegor found comfort in your lap and would prefer to stay here, rather than go break the neck of the demon insolent enough to try to take his master away.

So go ahead, reject him.

“A pact? With me?”

What were you doing?

Don’t give him such a hopeful answer! Belphegor had to share you with six other demons constantly and those demons were his siblings! He was okay sharing with Beel but he drew the line at anyone else! Adding an eighth demon to that would be like asking for a bloodbath, a bloodbath with only one target.

Belphegor frowned as the demon started talking again, stuttering and jumping over his words like he was a dog who asked to eat their masters table. Which essentially he was, not like there was room for him anyway.

“I know I’m not like those brothers--”

Damn straight.

“But making a pact with you would make me really happy...is what I am trying to say.”

He wants to gag.

A part of him couldn’t blame the demon, you were perhaps the best master a demon could ask for, but you were already t a k e n.

And you were to blame too, you know?

You weren’t rejecting him like you should. The face you were making was far too surprised and flattered at the proposition given to you. Were you that greedy? Had Mammon rubbed off on you? You had seven of the most powerful demons under your command, what more could you possibly want?

As a master, you were doing a bad job at rejecting this insect and an even more horrible job at not paying attention to the actual demon you were tied to.

He turns his head back to the darkness of your thighs, feeling you shift as you also struggle to find an answer. This was becoming too much, if Belphegor didn’t act fast you were most likely going to say yes, just because you didn’t know any better!

Fuck it, you could try to push him off but Belphegor would hold on tightly, he had to save you from your mistake.

“Uhm. Well that is honestly really flattering. And eight pacts wouldn’t be so bad--”

You slap a hand over your mouth, your teeth biting into your tongue as you look down at the demon nipping at the inside of your thigh. Belphie looks up innocently, batting his eyelashes at you as he bites down a little harder--

“I’ll-try-to-have-an-answer-for-you-later-got-to-go-bye!”

Fingers hurry to end the call as Belphegor quickly lets go, smiling as you gape down at him.

“I was in the middle of a call!”

“I know.”

“Then what was that about!?”

The Avatar of Sloth shrugs as he closes his eyes.

“You weren’t paying attention to me. It made me mad.”

You sigh and lean back, Belphegor waiting for a few moments before smiling as he feels your fingers combing through his hair.

“Next time,just talk to me, Belphegor.”

He would have answered, but that would make him promise something he most likely was not going to do.

[ban-canram]

Fluff Alphabet with King

Masterlist!

Warnings: pre-Holy wartime, also modernized (tv & car mentions), gender-neutral reader

Length: 1.1k || Read on Ao3

A/N: @levithestripper has been writing so much so I finally got up the nerve to post again (sorry it’s been a while but here you go!)

Affection

King is really big on physical affection. He loves to hold hands out in public so he feels close to you. In the privacy of his home, he also becomes an even bigger softie (if that’s even possible) and will cuddle with you all day long.

Beauty

King absolutely loves your eyes, he adores how they look in the sunlight. You can often catch him staring at you and he's just admiring his lover's eyes.

Cuddles

He is a huge cuddle bug. If King could sit around and cuddle with you for the entire day he definitely would. Cuddling is his love language, you cuddle him and he’ll be on you like a puppy.

Dreams

King usually vividly remembers his dreams, but he won’t talk about them unless the love of his life was involved. He tries to talk to Ban or Meliodas about them but they’re not really interested. So he heads straight over to you and gushes about his dream.

Entertainment

King is honestly okay with just going on a simple car ride with you as entertainment. Listening to music and enjoying each other's company is fine with him. If you want to stay in, he settles for tv and his favorite pastime, cuddling!

Fighting

King HATES getting into fights with you. He tries to de-escalate the situation as fast as possible but sometimes he loses his temper. He may yell at you and immediately regret it. He’ll be sure to apologize and try to make it up to you with dinner.

Gifts

He is the ultimate gift-giver like it is insane. King will spend everything he has to make you happy and not regret it one bit. Every time he needs to get you a present he starts shopping months in advance.

Honesty

King isn’t good at lying, but sometimes he tries and fails. His lies aren’t serious and he might even be just hiding a surprise from you. He tries to hide the other sins from you as well, but that doesn’t last too long.

I Love Yous

King doesn’t say it much, but he does things to let you know that he loves you. He’ll buy you things, and spend ridiculous amounts of time with you to make sure you know it.

Jokes

Dad Jokes. That’s all. He LOVES dad jokes and cracks them all the time. They make you laugh but you make sure he knows how stupid they sound. He made one when you first met him and you almost walked away.

Kissing

He isn’t big on PDA so most of your kissing is done at home or occasionally on dates if many people aren’t around. However, when he does kiss you, it’s sweet and soft. He holds your face and strokes your cheek while admiring you.

Love Language

Kings love languages are physical touch and gift-giving. He constantly wants to hold hands, have his hand on your thigh, or hug you. It’s a comfort to him and he shows love easier that way. As for giving you gifts, he has bought you more clothes than you’ve bought for yourself. He just loves seeing you with things he bought.

Mornings

King is not a morning person. He will not get up early if it isn’t life-threatening. You try to get him up and he simply falls asleep again seconds later.

Naps

Napping with you is so comforting to him. He already sleeps most of the time anyway, but add you to the mix and he’ll never want to get up. He turns on a movie for background noise and pulls you into his arms for a nap.

Open

King is a decently open person, so he shares a lot with you. Most of the time he only keeps things from you if itś to protect you. If he’s comfortable enough he’ll open up about his sister, Elaine (something he rarely does).

PDA

Not a big fan at all. He tends to cringe at couples being all over each other in public. However, if you want a kiss or a hug he won’t say no. He just simply prefers giving you physical affection at home.

Quirks

King isn’t…normal I suppose you could say, but his quirks definitely add to his appeal and the relationship. He always knows where to get the best food, the comfiest pillows, and the softest blankets. Perfect for nights inside. He knows it isn’t much, but he hopes that you can see how much he cares for you.

Romance

King is a total sucker for romance. He loves romantic gestures and basically swoons if you take him out on a romantic date. He’ll watch romantic movies with you and make a whole date out of it.

Support

Honestly, he is your very own personal cheerleader. He cheers you on and supports you through anything you decide you want to do. As long as you’re happy he is glad to be in your corner.

Thrill

King is not a thrill-seeker. He really just wants to stick to what he’s used to most of the time. If you want to show him something new, he might complain but ultimately he won’t turn you down.

Understanding

This man is so understanding that sometimes it’s not good for him. He will always forgive you no matter what you do. It may take him a while if it’s something exceptionally bad, but he always comes around eventually.

Vanity

He isn’t one to gloat about his looks, but he definitely does take pride in keeping his hair tidy. He may not shower every day and he may not change clothes for days, but his hair must always be neat.

Wild Card

King is an amazing artist, which not many people know about him. He loves to draw and occasionally doodles pictures of you into his ratty old sketchbook(which he refuses to stop using). His art is really private so you’re the only person besides Elaine who knows about it.

X (random headcanon)

King loves going out to lakes to relax. The forest will always be his favorite place, but there’s just something about the calmness of lakes that makes him smile. He even takes you out for lakeside picnics to share something he personally likes with you.

You

Another one of his favorite things about you is probably your personality, and he has a valid reason for it. Of course, you are extremely attractive and he loves every part of you. There’s just something about the way you act around him and other people that makes him want to just fall in love over and over again.

Zzz

King sleeps all the time, like all the time. At the store, he’s asleep. In the shower, he’s asleep. As soon as you two get in for the night, he’s sleeping. He prefers to sleep with you next to him, but sometimes he hogs the bed.

formatting by @levithestripper

[donutloverxo]

Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.

[retroellie]

could you do an imagine/headcannon where ellie and miller!reader are traveleing to santa barbara and are being really flirty with each other (they always have been but this time its like amped up x100) and on their way back to jackson they confess that they have always loved each other? (happy valentines btw!!! 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

Summary: Confessing your love to ellie

A/N: Thank you for the request<3 This kinda got a little depressing and i'm sorry but i'm in the mood for angst rn AHSHJ. Anyways sorry for making you wait so long babe :( ily <3

Warnings: Blood and angst

Word count: 1.3K

-Even though this is probably the worst reason to be traveling to Santa Barbara, avenge the death of your father, you two still can't keep your hands to yourselves

-There was something about this time that felt more meaningful than it usually did

-Ellie would always pull bad pick up lines out of her back pocket and make you laugh

-"IS there a mirror in your pants?? Cause I can see myself in them."

-It was just stupid harmless jokes but now it feels more than that

-Ellie had also started touching you more, if that was holding your hand as you guys were running through a hoard of infected or hugging you as you came back from getting food

-You weren't complaining much though, back at home it was so lonely there without ellie

-You and her had been connected at the hip ever since you met, you even went with her to Seattle even if it hurt you so much to remember your dad

-After you guys came back to Jackson after Seattle you both parted ways, it left you heart broken

-Ellie left to go live in a farmhouse by herself and you got up and moved your entire life around

-You were able to go back to Texas and live in your dad's old house there, you fixed it up real nice... wasn't much but the only memory you had of your dad

-That's until Ellie came to you, all the way from Jackson to Texas just so you could help her cause you were the only person that was going through her pain.

-It took about a week to get to Santa Barbara and the entire trip consisted of catching up but also the awkward tension in the air

-It was horrible because ellie kept getting hurt but she kept pushing herself to her limit

-When she was impaled by the tree branch, you tried your best to clean her up and for some reason touching her bare skin made you blush.

-When y'all had finally found Abby there was a good chance you guys could kill her, she was weak and fragile

-You had been busy trying to fight of the damn group you had run into when you could've helped ellie

-When you finally made it to the sea, there she was. Bleeding, bloody and hurt... Just like when you found her in jackson that horrible day when you lost everything

-You ran to her, holding her like she would drift away. You watched as abby made her way into sea

-You didn't even feel like going after her, you didn't want to lose the only other person you had left

-"I couldn't.... Joel..." She could hardly speak

-"I know ellie..." You whispered back, letting some tears escape you

- You helped get her cleaned up that night, staying in a abandoned house just so y'all could rest

-You wrapped her fingers up real well, doing everything in your power not to hurt her

-You could feel her eyes on you, looking at you like you were the only right thing in her life

-She couldn't bear losing you, if you were to have died she wouldn't want to live anymore

-"You know I'm glad you came with me. i really missed you" She spoke, watching as you wiped the blood off her hands

-"I missed you too ellie, i had to get used to you not being there....it felt weird." You admitted

-Ellie's heart fluttered, she was so in love with you in hurt

-"How was texas?" She asked

-"Lonely" You stated, wiping the blood off her hands. "It was just how they left it 25 years ago, everything was left untouched."

-She watched as you spoke, her eyes flipping to your eyes back to your mouth

-"Sarah's room looks exactly like mine back at Jackson '' You chuckled. "It's funny how similar we are yet we've never met."

-Ellie chuckled along with you, watching as your eyes began to water

-She knew you were only hurting yourself living there, holding on to a simple memory of a man who was so much more

-"I wonder if it hurt him to look at me.... if all he saw was sarah"

- Ellie could hear the tears you were holding back, causing ellie to get on your level, hoping down from the chair and on the floor with her

-Ellie took her bloody hand, placing it on your cheek. She wiped away stray tears, smearing your rosey cheeks with blood

-"No." She stated simply. "I bet he saw a woman with so much purpose, he would be so proud of you y/n."

-It was then, right then when you decided you were madly in love with Ellie williams. You always knew but you kept it hidden, but you couldn't keep it to yourself anymore

-You smashed your lips into hers, not caring about the clashing teeth or the surprised gasp coming from her

-It was at this moment you could let go, of everything

-"I have been waiting for this moment for years." She breathed out, giving a huge smile

-"me too..." You admitted, wanting to pull her into another one

-"why didn't you say anything?!?"

-"You tell me!!"

-"I could've been kissing your stupid face this entire time?!?"

-Even after almost getting murdered multiple times today, you guys are still your stupid selves

-Traveling back to jackson felt quick, days gone by like minutes

-This time the trip consisted of everything it used to but more makeout sessions and heated sex... obviously cause it's ellie

-off topic but the first y'all finally have sex omfg, ellie is so shy and awkward with it like seeing your boobies threw her off

-Anyways uhhh moving on

-When y'all finally got back to jackson, you knew you two would have to split back up again. I mean y'all started 2 different lives, you couldn't just leave that all behind.

-Ellie showed you around her house, allowing you to pet the sheep and horses

-It felt nice, better than in texas where you had no one

-it wasn't until you found joel's guitar he made for ellie that you remembered you have to go back to texas... or do you?

-"I now understand what the bill went through... I mean losing someone and then coming home to an empty house." You stated, running your fingers along the strings

-"Minus the crazy paranoid part... right?" She joked, coming up to you to set small kisses to your head

-You chuckled, you didn't want to end up like bill...alone or did you already become him

-The coldness of the house that you knew was once filled with laughter of the two who had once lived there, something you had tried to recreate but only failing

-Walking along the house filled with pictures of the two faces that should be here with you, would Sarah even want you a part of the picture or would she want to be the only child?

-"I want to let him go ellie...' You whispered. "I'm holding onto a life that was never mine....i sleep in his bed for god sake."

-Ellie brought you into a hug, staying silent so you could get it out

-Ellie knew what you were going through, she saw it every time you entered a room.

-Ellie thought about how much she missed you and how much it would hurt her if you left her again

-"You could always stay with me.." She spoke, seeing your futures flash in her head

-She could see you getting up and feeding the animals in only your bra and shorts

-She could see you pregnant with a kid, cooking up dinner for you and her... she isn't quite sure how that works but you can make it happen

-She could see nights spent making love underneath the stars

-She would kill for that life with you

-"Really??" You said, perking up almost immediately

-"Yeah I mean.... i'm beginning to feel like bill as well."

-You both laughed, you both were so fucking ready to settle down and be normal humans for a bit

-"I think I might like that." You smiled, pulling her into a kiss once again

[v4mptsuki]

flirtations (i.matsukawa x reader)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: matsukawa is crushing on the reader, and he’s oblivious to her feelings for him despite her being oikawa’s childhood best friend

a/n, this isn’t proofread, so i apologize if there’s any typos!

mattsun felt a headache coming on. for the past half hour of the third year's hangout, oikawa had been unable to shut up about l/n y/n. as the group of boys roamed the streets, coffee cups in hand, oikawa went on his fiftieth rant of the day about her.

"isn't she just the sweetest iwa-chan? remember when she helped us practice last summer; she's so helpful. we should invite y/n-chan the next time we hangout. would you like that mattsu?" oikawa asked with a smirk.

mattsun rolled his eyes, "would that shut you up about her?"

oikawa tsked and took a sip of his drink, "now, now mattsu don't get all riled up. i'm just complimenting a friend."

"friend, right," mattsun muttered sarcastically.

y/n had known oikawa for years; ever since they were kids. oikawa's mom went to school with y/n's family, so the two kids had grown up together. mattsun knew it was only a matter of time until they ended up dating, and he hated how upset it made him. he'd been harboring feelings for y/n since their first year at aoba johsai, and they hadn't faded at all.

two knocks echoed through the matsukawa house, and mattsun could hear his mom answering the door. he'd been bed bound since he came down with a cold that morning, and he felt miserable.

"oh yes! he's in his room, i'm sure he'll be glad to see you!" his mom said to whoever was at the door.

mattsun expected makki to be the one entering his room, probably with his schoolwork and questions of where he'd been. instead, it was y/n, oikawa's friend. he had several classes with her, which was why oikawa introduced them. y/n was anxious about high school, since most of her junior high friends went elsewhere, so oikawa thought it would be good for her to know someone.

the two had grown to be good friends through all their shared classes, and mattsun really enjoyed her company. she was really kind, but she teased oikawa just as much as iwaizumi did. she was also smart, and she always helped mattsun with his work when he got lost in class. so, it shouldn't have shocked him that much to see y/n standing in his doorway with his homework in her arms.

the surprising part though, was that she'd brought him food too. she had a grocery sack from the corner store in one hand, and it seemed to be full of snacks. in her other hand, she had not only the homework, but her notes from the day too.

"hi, i heard you're sick," y/n greeted, still standing in the doorway, like she was waiting for permission to walk in.

mattsun smiled at her, "yeah, c'mon in."

y/n took a seat on the edge of his bed, and mattsun scooted his legs a bit so she would have more room.

"i brought the homework, and i thought you might like to have my notes. i took two copies, so you can keep these. i always get stressed when i miss school, because i hate falling behind, so i hope this helps you rest easier," y/n stated, a small smile on her face.

mattsun swore that in that moment he could feel himself falling for her. he'd thought she was pretty from the moment he laid eyes on her, and ever since oikawa introduced them, he'd grown fond of her personality too. it was then though, that he truly fell. the nonchalant way she cared about him, like it was nothing but the expected, made mattsun so incredibly happy.

"oh! i also brought you this," y/n added excitedly, placing the grocery bag gently on the bed.

mattsun sat up a bit, and y/n handed him the bag. inside was all his favorites. his favorite chips, candy, drink, and a carefully packaged cup of soup. the soup was even still warm, letting mattsun know she'd grabbed it on her way to his house.

"how did you know these are my favorites?" mattsun asked as he looked up at her, his eyes wide with delight.

"i asked oikawa. he said he asked your friend makki," y/n replied, clearly proud of herself for being so attentive.

"this is like the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. thank you y/n," mattsun said, making y/n duck her head bashfully.

"oh quit it, you're sick, i'm just helping it be less awful. anyways, do you want me to go over the notes with you? if you're tired i can go, but i just thought i'd offer," y/n said, trailing off near the end.

mattsun nodded quickly, a bit too eager to get her to stay.

"we can go over the notes! it'll probably, um, help me learn it better."

ever since that day, mattsun had been hopelessly devoted to her. every love confession that had come his way he'd denied, holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, y/n could like him back. oikawa had never helped his pining though. as the group of them had gotten older, oikawa had grown into a flirt, with y/n being his primary target. every day at practice, it was incessant, and it drove mattsun mad.

"this one's for you y/n-chan!" oikawa exclaimed with a wink in her direction before he served the ball flawlessly to the other side of the court during a mock game.

mattsun could hear y/n's laugh at his antics, and it just made him more sullen. as the day's practice wrapped up, y/n was quick to rush over to the boys.

"that was great guys. you really are improving a lot," she said with a bright smile.

"thank you! you're our number one cheerleader y/n," makki teased, throwing an arm over her shoulders and ruffling her hair.

y/n ducked out of his grasp and patted her hair down with a dramatic scowl.

"hands off my hair makki! that's why mattsu is my favorite," she teased, poking her tongue out before leaning into mattsun's side.

"you played great today too," she said, her voice lower, like the comment was just for him.

mattsun felt himself stiffen, suddenly unable to think of anything clever to say.

"oh, uh, thank you."

"y/n-chan!" oikawa called out as he exited the locker room, already changed out of his gym clothes.

y/n giggled, "see you around mattsu," she said before walking over to greet oikawa.

makki whistled once y/n had walked far off enough, and he clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"pussy," was all he said to mattsun, who just sighed.

"up your ass makki."

"toru i'm an idiot!" y/n exclaimed, flopping back on her best friend's bed.

he just laughed, and took a seat next to her.

"what else is new?"

y/n huffed and leaned over to shove him.

"not helping asshole."

"sorry, sorry, it's just hilarious how oblivious he is," oikawa said.

y/n nodded in agreement, and moved her head to rest in oikawa's lap.

"it's awful isn't it? i just don't know what to do. i try to talk to him, but he always seems pained to be around me. promise he doesn't hate me?" y/n asked, looking up at her friend.

"how could he hate you? precious little y/n-chan," oikawa teased, reaching down to pinch her cheeks.

she grumbled again and swatted his hand away.

"how do i get him to confess?" she wondered aloud.

"what if we made him jealous," oikawa suggested with a sly smirk.

y/n pursed her lips in thought, before an equally sly smile spread on her face. mattsun always did seem particularly irritated by her and oikawa's antics. besides, a jealous confession did sound pretty appealing to y/n.

"i'm down if you are toru," y/n said.

"perfect! so what will our story be? should i tell the boys you broke down in tears as you confessed your love for me?"

y/n grimaced, "absolutely not. i still want him to know i'm single dumbass. maybe just amp up the flirting tomorrow, and i'll dress extra cute."

"looking forward to it darling," oikawa said with a wink, making y/n roll her eyes.

the next day at practice, oikawa was insufferable. if his normal flirtations were a 7/10 on the mattsun-annoyance scale, this had raised it to at least an 11/10. y/n had entered practice in her cutest variant of the school uniform, and oikawa was quick to offer her his sweatshirt. he even helped her put it on, making mattsun glare at the pair from across the gym.

y/n sat on the bench close to the court, and oikawa shot a flirty remark at her after every cool move he pulled. every time he did, y/n would giggle and blush, and it made mattsun want to rip his hair out.

"my head is literally going to explode," he muttered to makki during a water break, with a scowl heavy on his face.

makki stifled a laugh, "just make a move already."

mattsun's scowl deepened, "no way. she's totally head over heels for oikawa. see, look."

he gestured over to the pair, where oikawa had joined y/n on the bench. he had an arm draped over her shoulder, and their heads were leaned into each other as they spoke in hushed voices. y/n glanced up, and her eyes met mattsun's, but he was quick to look away.

"did you see that, he was looking at us," y/n whispered to oikawa, a grin on her face.

"he's totally pissed," oikawa added excitedly.

y/n giggled, "this might actually work!"

oikawa got up and restarted practice, and a very sullen mattsun walked back onto the court. y/n kept her gaze trained on him as he walked, unable to look away from the way the jersey hugged his muscles. he glanced back, and their eyes met again, but this time y/n was the first to look away, a blush rising on her face.

practice continued on, with oikawa flirting with y/n every other minute. mattsun just seemed to get more and more irritated, and then, practice ended. oikawa headed straight to the locker room, as he always did. he'd always hated the sweaty feeling after practice, so y/n would normally just wait for him to change so they could go. today though, y/n asked oikawa to shower there too, so she would have more time to talk to mattsun without him around making mattsun jealous.

"hi guys! you all did great today," y/n greeted as she walked over to the three third years.

iwa smiled at y/n in thanks, "yeah, we're improving a lot."

"totally! especially you mattsu, you looked great out there today," y/n said with a smile.

mattsun seemed to tense up, and y/n mentally cursed herself. all she wanted to do was let him know she liked him, but every time she did he always seemed to get so uncomfortable.

"thank you y/n," he replied with an awkward smile, making y/n's heart drop.

"yeah, of course," she said with her own small smile.

there was a moment of silence before iwa bid everyone goodbye. most of the other years had left, leaving just y/n, mattsun, makki, and oikawa in the locker room.

"i think i'm gonna head out too, bye guys!" makki said, hurrying out of the room before mattsun could say anything to him.

y/n pursed her lips at that, since usually the two walked home together.

"waiting for oikawa?" mattsun asked y/n once makki was out the door.

"i guess. i also kinda wanted to talk to you," she added, her voice growing quiet.

mattsun's eyes widened and his gaze shot up to look at her.

"what?"

"yeah, i uh, wanted to chat with you. you know, i really like your company," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

mattsun didn't say anything back, he just stared at y/n with wide eyes. she felt a lump in her throat, but she bit back any emotions.

"sorry, i didn't mean to make this weird or anything," she added quickly.

mattsun blinked slowly, and then shook his head forcefully.

"no, no, not at all. i like spending time with you too. i just, i thought you and oikawa were like..." he trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud, but hoping y/n understood what he meant.

apparently she didn't, as her eyebrows scrunched up, "huh? what about me and toru?"

"nothing, i just..." mattsun took in a breath and shook his head, "nothing, never mind."

y/n frowned, but took a step closer to mattsun.

"what is it?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"i-"

mattsun wasn't sure what to say. y/n was standing barely a few inches away from him, and he was struggling to form a coherent thought. she tilted her head up to look him in the eyes, and he felt his face growing hot.

"you know i'm not dating toru," she said, her voice soft.

mattsun swallowed, "oh, really? i guess i just assumed..."

"well you assumed wrong," y/n replied, keeping her eyes on mattsun.

"oh," was all he could think to say, his mind too muddled for y/n's closeness.

she stayed there for a second longer, before she cleared her throat and took a step away.

"well yeah, we aren't dating. i don't plan on dating him either, he's too high maintenance for me," y/n joked, although she sounded a bit down.

mattsun just nodded, unsure of what to say. inside, he was beating himself up. she was right there, but he just couldn't do anything. she made him so nervous he lost all his confidence. it was basically torture, being so close to her, but unable to make a move.

"anyways, i think toru should be done by now. i guess i'll just wait for him outside," y/n flashed mattsun a small smile before swiftly heading for the gym doors.

"wait!" mattsun exclaimed before he could think better of it.

y/n turned around, her eyebrows raised.

"what's up?"

"um, fuck, don't go yet. i guess now's a good time to tell you i, uh, i really like you."

once mattsun started his confession, he couldn't stop the word vomit that followed.

"ever since you brought me the notes when i was sick during first year, i thought you were the nicest girl ever. i still do, by the way, you're just so sweet and pretty, and fuck i'm rambling. i just, i like you a lot, and i thought you should know. i guess."

mattsun felt his face heating up as he awkwardly went to scratch the back of his neck. y/n just stood there, a shocked look on her face. mattsun was just about to stutter out an apology for making things weird, when she rushed forwards. her arms wrapped around mattsun's neck, and she let out a relieved laugh.

"oh thank goodness! i was so worried you didn't like me that way, it was killing me you idiot!" y/n breathed out, her face pressing into mattsun's neck.

"wait what?" mattsun replied, pulling away from her embrace.

she moved one of her arms to flick his forehead, a grin taking over her face.

"i like you too!" she exclaimed.

mattsun broke into a grin of his own, and just as he was about to pull y/n back into him, oikawa exited the locker room. his hair was dripping wet, implying he'd taken a shower, and mattsun could've smacked him across the face.

"toru guess what!" y/n called out as oikawa headed over to the pair.

based on oikawa's smirk, he already knew what she was going to say.

"what is it y/n darling?"

"he likes me back," she replied smugly, stretching on her tip toes to kiss mattsun's cheek.

"yes i do," mattsun muttered, just for y/n to hear, making her smile stretch even wider.

[swaps55]

Mnemonic

This is an AU version of a standalone scene from Cantata that I rewrote with kissing. Because there was a lot of UST and I am weak. 

Ao3

14 June 2180, Hades Gamma, Farinata System, SSV Myeongnyang

For a biotic, the armor never really comes off. What they carry under their skin is like a live wire, a current always in need of grounding.

Standing face-to-face with half a dozen L2 biotics holding the chairman of the Parliament Subcommittee for Transhuman Studies hostage on the MSV Ontario makes it a lot easier for Kaidan to see how much he takes for granted having a safe place to do it. And knowing how.

Reparations for the L2 side effects are a pipe dream. But a pipe dream Colin Daggett and his people needed to cling to, whatever the cost. And it had almost cost them everything.

Shepard doesn’t say much as they arrange for the survivors to be transferred to the Madrid’s brig and the engineering crew arrives to secure the Ontario for the trip to Arcturus. He says even less on the way through the airlock back to the ‘Yang, and the rest of the squad take their lead from him.

When they’re back on board the ship he disappears, sucking the air out of the room with him. They kit down without him.

“You’re an L2, aren’t you?” Pendergrass asks as she shoves her arms through the sleeves of her uniform, armor plating in a heap at her feet.  

Beaudoin jabs her with an elbow.

“Yeah,” Kaidan murmurs, fingers tracing the amp port on the back of his neck when he removes the protection plate. He flexes his fingers, gravity well jumping into his touch. As he reaches for his chest plate to store it in his gear locker, an electric shock passes through him.

When 23:00 rolls around, Kaidan shows up in the mess as usual, figuring he’ll keep it simple tonight and just make some pasta. Shepard is there waiting, as usual, picking at a spot on the table while Kaidan pulls out a pot and finds a container of pasta. The entire time the water boils Shepard doesn’t say a word, stubbornly lost in thought.

Kaidan tells himself he’s not going to do more than olive oil and garlic – it’s been too long of a day for effort – but by the time he gets it to the table there’s parmesan cheese, parsley, and even a little red pepper in the mix.

“You going to tell me what’s up, or do I get to guess?” Kaidan asks when he sits down across from him and hands off a fork. He spent too much energy on going above and beyond with the red pepper to bother with a second bowl. They’ll just have to share.

Shepard looks up, almost in surprise. “Just thinking.”

“You’ve been thinking ever since you got Chairman Burns through the airlock. Maybe you should think out loud.”

The gravity well churns as Shepard stirs eddies in it, in tune with the twirl of his fork in the pasta bowl. “Everything that happened on that ship hinged on what Daggett did with his pistol.”

His toying intensifies, until blue energy shimmers around his knuckles. This one’s been chewing at him. A snap of electricity skips between his finger and the fork, and he drops it with an annoyed mutter. He looks up.

“You pulled the gun out of his hands,” he says.

And Shepard had put a bullet between his eyes. The fight had gone out of the rest pretty quickly.

“He wasn’t going to put it down,” Kaidan says. “We all knew it.”

“No. He wasn’t. And if you hadn’t been there, that standoff turns into a clusterfuck where everyone dies.”

A soft smile tugs at Kaidan’s lips. “Guess it’s a good thing I was there.”

Shepard picks up the fork again, staring at it with an unfocused gaze before he stabs it back in the bowl and twirls more pasta.  

“I couldn’t have done what you did. I can’t refine a field like that. I was prepared to shoot everyone in that room. But you pulled the gun right out of his hands.”

Only because Shepard had given him the chance. Whether Shepard had done it with purpose or actually hesitated is a question he hasn’t been in a hurry to examine too closely.

“We work together, remember? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

Shepard huffs. “Yeah. We have.”

“But you’re just gonna get bent out of shape about not being able to do everything yourself, anyway.”

“Have you met me?” Shepard says with a helpless shrug.

“Yeah, I’ve had the pleasure,” Kaidan says with a chuckle. He pushes his chair back. “Come on, then.”

Shepard casts him a suspicious look. “Come where?”

“To the gym.”

“Alenko—”

“Come on.” He nods towards the elevator and starts walking, smirking a little when Shepard’s chair scrapes against the floor and his feet hit the deckplates.

“You’re just dying to give me a taste of my own medicine, aren’t you,” Shepard grouches when they board the lift.

“Oh, definitely.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Apparently not when it comes to taking people’s pistols out of their hands.”

Shepard chuckles, though he tries to choke off a smile by looking down at his feet. When they get to the gym Kaidan digs a canteen out of his locker and sets it down on one of the sparring mats.

“I’m guessing that your training didn’t include a lot of control drills,” he says.

Shepard shakes his head. “Tulak wasn’t big on control. Overwhelming tidal force tends to be the krogan approach.”

“You don’t say.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, Alenko.”

Kaidan grins and points to the canteen. “Start simple. Just lift it off the ground.”  

Shepard rolls his eyes, but taps into the gravity well, corona enveloping him in a shroud of snapping blue tendrils. The hairs on Kaidan’s arms stand on end.

It’s so rare he gets to just watch Shepard work. All unrestrained power, from the loose, angry snarl of his corona to the sweeping mnemonics, make him seem larger than life. When he swipes the canteen off the floor he does it with his entire arm. The canteen leaps into the air, nearly hitting the ceiling before Shepard wrangles it. He only holds it still for half a second before sending it skidding to the other side of the gym.

“Hm,” Kaidan says.

Shepard gives him a withering look before marching off to fetch the wayward canteen. “It’s small. I don’t do well with small.”

“Not sure the size trips you up as much as you think it does,” Kaidan muses. “That mnemonic of yours applies some pretty impressive force automatically, so you’re already playing catch up if you’re trying to control the speed or direction.”

“See, I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or giving me shit.”

“Both.”

“Har.”

Shepard resets the canteen and comes back to Kaidan to try it again, standing close but not so close their fields intersect. Kaidan watches through three variations that all end almost the same way, too much force being applied to the canteen, making it nearly impossible for Shepard to control where it goes, or where it doesn’t.

Doesn’t matter that he’s not accomplishing what it intends. The way the gravity well cants under his touch, the way his corona lights him ablaze like a flickering star, the way it caresses every nerve in Kaidan’s body like a swash of silk is mesmerizing. Kaidan swallows before trying to speak.  

“Good news is, if we ever need someone to punt a suspicious canteen into space, I know who to call.”

Shepard rolls his eyes. “And if you’re not around to yank pistols out of terrorist hands?”

“Well, first, I will be around. But second, as for the pistol, yanking it towards you isn’t so different from kicking it away from you.” He cracks a grin. “In your case you just need to be prepared to duck.”

“Have I mentioned that separating the pistol from the person holding it wouldn’t end well for anyone?” Shepard says. “If you were to go hold that canteen in your palm and ask me to do what I just did, you wouldn’t like me very much.”

I doubt that.

“One problem at a time,” Kaidan says. “Let’s work on controlling the canteen by itself, then we’ll add clutter.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?”

“You need a new mnemonic. You’re fighting yourself by adding force and trying to take it away at the same time.”

“I’m sensing a metaphor.”

Kaidan smirks. “Think that says more about you than it does me.” Before Shepard can protest he raises an arm. “Watch me. You don’t have to use my mnemonic, but I want you to see something different so you can visualize it.”

Shepard folds his arms across his chest, but does what Kaidan asks. A nervous thrill runs through him at the undivided attention.

Kaidan waves a wrist, a hard-learned, hard-fought mnemonic that now feels as natural as breathing. Dark energy rushes through him, responsive and willing, as his fingers flex and settle a field over the canteen. Very little mass-shifting needed to pick up a light-weight canteen, which makes it tricky to keep from doing exactly what Shepard did – send it spinning out of control. But Kaidan has spent years perfecting his ability to do exactly this, so the canteen rises off the floor until it reaches eye level. Kaidan closes his fist and holds it still, floating almost motionless in mid-air.

“That mnemonic is so damned subtle,” Shepard says with an appreciative shake of his head. A flush builds at the back of Kaidan’s neck.

“Easier for me that way.”

Shepard grunts and unfolds his arms. “I was never good at levitation.”

“Because your mnemonics always apply force.”

“Need force to yank that pistol.”

“Sure, but if you want to control it, you need to learn how to hold it still.”

“I’m not good at still.”

“I know,” Kaidan says, lips curving into a smile. “So come here and let me show you.”  

Shepard strays a step closer into Kaidan’s biotic field. The blend of auras creates a low keen through his nerves, familiar but always striking. The canteen wavers before falling to the ground.

“Sorry,” Shepard mumbles, but doesn’t back away.

“It’s fine,” Kaidan says, lifting the canteen again with another float of his palm.

Their eyes lock for a moment before Shepard clears his throat and looks down at Kaidan’s hand.

“You put everything in your wrist.”

“Yeah,” he manages. “You do it all with your arms.”

“Yeah.”

“So maybe, if you’re looking for finesse, try to create a mnemonic that’s a little, uh, smaller.”    

“With my wrist.”

“Right. Um, I’ll show you. Here.” He steps in front of Shepard, angling his body to align their right arms. He takes Shepard’s right hand guides it to his wrist, tingle running down his spine when his fingers close around it. Shepard glances at him with soft eyes that stop the breath in his throat, but doesn’t object.

“Hands-on teacher?”

“Best way to learn,” Kaidan replies, gaze flicking to Shepard’s mouth before going back to the canteen. “Just follow my lead. Don’t act on the canteen. Concentrate on what my arm does. Visualize it.”

“Sure,” Shepard murmurs.

Kaidan reaches into the gravity well, his own corona unfurling, a steady candle to Shepard’s flaring torch. Goosebumps rise on Shepard’s arm, a subtle reminder that he’s human after all, one Kaidan is almost never close enough to witness.

He takes a deep breath and flexes his wrist, Shepard’s fingers loose and feather-light against his skin. A crackle of dark energy passes between them before he snares the canteen and turns his wrist palm-up to lift it off the floor, Shepard close enough his breath washes over Kaidan’s cheek. The canteen wavers but Kaidan keeps it afloat for several seconds, the mingle of auras, ripple of kinetic energy and closeness of Shepard enough to make him dizzy.

He lets it go with a clatter and puts space between them.

“Does that help?” he asks, trying not to sound breathless.

“Yeah. It does.” Shepard’s gaze stays on him, still and steady. “Might take a while to hard-wire my brain for something in the wrist.”

“Doesn’t have to be that. It could be something else. But you associate those big movements with force. Take that away, you might have more luck with leaving velocity out of the initial execution, so you can add it how you need it. Have more control over it.”

Shepard’s mouth crooks in a half-smile. “Sure I’m not a lost cause when it comes to control?”

“I’m sure.”

Shepard breaks his gaze and focuses on the canteen, brow furrowed in concentration. Twice he catches himself using his arm, then nearly wrenches his wrist trying to restrict the movement.

“It’s so ingrained,” he says with a shake of his head.

“That’s why they work,” Kaidan says with a smile. “Here.” He steps close once again, positions reversed with his hand on Shepard’s wrist this time. “Let me help.”

“Fuck, your hands are cold,” Shepard says with a laugh.

Hastily, he loosens his grip. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Shepard says with a grin.  “Go on.”

Gently, Kaidan closes his fingers again. Shepard trains his eyes on the canteen, though they dart to Kaidan ever so briefly.

Shepard’s corona is so bright, so fierce, it’s a wonder he can wrangle it at all. Kaidan breathes in deep, letting his own kindle, the snick and crackle as they blend together forming a resonant hum that hovers just under his skin.

When Shepard’s arm moves, Kaidan tightens his grip, keeping the motion small. Instead of his usual languid, fluid posture, Shepard’s arm is stiff and resistant against him. The canteen spins in a circle but stays on the ground.  

“Breathe, Shepard,” Kaidan says softly. “Just let it happen.”

Shepard inhales deep, like someone trying to relearn how. This time they move together, Kaidan picking up the slack when Shepard falters, until the canteen hovers briefly in the air. It’s more under Kaidan’s control than Shepard’s, but it’s a start, and that’s what matters.

They gutter out and the canteen falls, but Kaidan doesn’t let go and doesn’t step away, not yet, not quite yet, not while the remnants of kinetic energy are still sharp in the air and he has to remind himself to breathe, too.

“How do you do that?” Shepard murmurs. “You worked around me, without…taking over. How do you do that?”

Their eyes lock for just a moment. God Kaidan could get lost there if he’s not careful. “Practice. Years of it.”

Let go.

He means to. He means to. In his head he loosens his hold on Shepard’s wrist, drops his hand away and puts space between them. That’s what he tells himself to do. That’s what he intends to do.

But while he does loosen his grip, instead of fall away, Kaidan’s fingertips brush Shepard’s knuckles, the pad of his thumb running along the round muscle of his palm.

It’s an accident. Just an accident. So many of their touches are, but rather than move or pull away, rather than let it be just another one of those excusable, explainable slips, Shepard exhales, the breath fluttering out of him, then splays his fingers wider, as if making room for Kaidan’s to slot between them.

Let go, let go.

But instead he explores the open space Shepard has left for him, fingertips light, hesitant, ghosting Shepard’s skin as he finds where they fit, hovering, hoping, but never daring to rest. Never giving up the ruse.

It’s an accident. It doesn’t mean anything.

Except it does.

Shepard stays still as a stone save for the rise and fall of his chest. They’re close enough now their cheeks almost touch, though whether Kaidan moves or Shepard does to close that gap he can’t say.

The next time Kaidan’s fingers trespass through that open space, Shepard closes his around them and traps them there.

Kaidan’s breath hitches.

The gravity well sighs as Shepard calls to it, glow of dark energy limming their hands, accompanied by a soundless hum that strums every nerve in Kaidan’s body before settling in his groin. Without thinking his other hand comes to rest on Shepard’s hip, needing something, anything, to hold onto.

A soft sound stirs in Shepard’s throat. Kaidan’s hand doesn’t stay on that hip for long, because Shepard seeks those fingers out, too, lacing them together. Kaidan folds both arms until Shepard is surrounded by them. There’s no imagining any space between them now – their cheeks rest against each other, Kaidan tightening his hold until Shepard is snug against his chest.

Shepard turns his head, but after briefly meeting each other’s gaze, his eyes drift down to Kaidan’s mouth.

Kaidan can still let go. There’s still a way out. Chalk it up to adrenaline, nerves leftover from the standoff on the Ontario. They can walk it off, laugh, pretend it never happened, continue on like they always have.

But he doesn’t let go, and then the millimeters between Shepard’s lips and Kaidan’s no longer exist and the window is gone.

Shepard’s mouth is warm, soft, lips tinged with the salt of his sweat. They start out slow, cautious, neither of them daring to think about it too hard, but that’s not a problem for long, because soon there’s no room to think about anything at all.

Nothing else matters but this.

Slow and cautious becomes deep and headlong, Kaidan pushing his tongue between Shepard’s teeth, Shepard sighing into his mouth and taking him in. His fingers tighten around Kaidan’s, the glow of dark energy rippling out from their joined hands until it swallows them whole. Kaidan gasps at the sensation.

Shepard kisses him harder.

God.

Kaidan wants to spin him around, throw his arms around his neck and meet him head on, give in to everything, all of it, but he can’t bear the thought of turning loose of that hand.    

They part when they run out of air, both straining to catch their breath, fingers still entwined, Shepard still firmly ensconced in Kaidan’s arms as his corona fades.

Shepard rests his cheek against Kaidan’s, ensconcing himself a little further.

“Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

Shepard’s fingers flex within his, twining and retwining, never letting go.

“You…don’t seem surprised.”

Kaidan closes his eyes, breathing him in, a star he’s somehow pulled down out of the heavens and trapped right here in his arms.  “No. Felt it…for a long time now.”

“Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

Their coronas may have faded, but the mingle of their biotic fields is a constant, soothing whisper under Kaidan’s skin. A small, contented sound slips from Shepard’s throat.  

“Why didn’t I see it?”

Kaidan huffs. “To be fair, I don’t think either of us are very good at this kind of thing.”

Shepard tightens his grip on Kaidan’s fingers and pulls them to his chest. The race of Shepard’s heart thrums under their joined hands. If Kaidan had any illusions about letting him go, they’re gone now.    

“I think I’d like to learn,” Shepard says.

Kaidan’s stomach flips. “Me too.”

They stay still, Kaidan content to hold him, Shepard content to be held, until their lips find each other once more. Kissing Shepard is easy, effortless, like it’s something they were meant to do, a safe place for the live current running under their skin to go to ground.

Shepard, against all evidence to the contrary, is…safe.  

Shepard gazes at him when they part, and butterflies cut loose in Kaidan’s stomach.

“You’re very good at that,” Shepard murmurs.

“We’re very good at a lot of things.”

“Yeah. We are.” He draws Kaidan’s hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Kaidan admits. “What do you want?”

“You.”

A shiver runs down Kaidan’s spine, the euphoria of that one, single word enough to make him lightheaded. So simple. So complicated. They’ll have choices to make, all of them with compromises and consequences. But that’s something for tomorrow. Right now there is only the truth.  

“I want that, too.”

Shepard releases Kaidan’s hand to turn until they’re face to face, then runs his fingers through the hairs growing over Kaidan’s right temple. All the while those glittering eyes search Kaidan’s face, as though reconciling all the things he knows with the things he’s learning for the first time.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as a smile spreads across his face, pure, open, and full of possibility. “Taste of my own medicine, huh?”

“Well…” Kaidan shrugs helplessly, and Shepard’s grin only gets deeper.  

“Seems like I should have let you teach me a few things a long time ago.”

Kaidan flexes his fingers, a curl of dark energy igniting in his palm that draws out goosebumps along Shepard’s arm. “All in the wrist.”

Shepard laughs. It’s like music. “You and me.”

“I like that,” Kaidan murmurs, before kissing him again. “I like that a lot.”

[wizkiddx]

the worst case scenario

okay so this is possibly part 1 of a v v angsty dad!tom fic!!

WARNING: the section under the cut of this is v v v dark with mentions of death and some graphic descriptions of blood etc - please please don't read if any of these things may affect you <3

the part above the cut (the keep reading bit) is completely fluffy (a bit of childbirth but not graphic) so you could read only that first bit as a stand alone if anybody wanted to

dad!tomholland x reader

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“Stop laughing at me!!!”  Y/n exclaimed in mock anger before bursting out laughing, knowing she did look pretty ridiculous. 

“I can’t help it you just…. You look like an elephant!” Tom cackled from his reclined position lying on the couch, whilst his 8 month pregnant fiancé struggled to get up from her seated position on the floor - where she had spent the last half an hour wrapping presents for her nephews birthday.

“You know a supportive soon to be father would’ve helped me up!” Replying with a scowl that didn’t last long, Y/n finally standing up took the three steps to the couch before uncerimoniously collapsing into it. 

Grinning with this absolute sparkle in his eye, Tom leant forward and slid up to Y/n to pull her into his side. His hand came to rest upon her massive bump - at this point it was almost a rule that if he were touching Y/n he also had to be touching the bump. Tom claimed it to be skin to skin contact and although Y/n were pretty sure that didn’t come into effect until after the baby was born, she wasn’t complaining either. 

“It’s a shame your stuck with me then huh?” He murmured into the top of Y/n’s head, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head while tracing meaningless patterns on her shirt over the bump. Tom was beyond excited to become a Dad, family had always meant everything to him growing up (and now). There was nothing he wanted more , therefore, to call them a family of three - or more accurately four, not forgetting Tess of course. 

“Oh how I regret ever taking up that extra shift at the club” She mused sarcastically, enjoying how he feigned offence in return.

 The way the two had met was so incredibly cliche that it was almost painful, whenever anyone asked how they met she always winced internally. But it was their truth, Y/n had been a caddy at the golf course Tom frequented with his brothers. The nature of his ‘reputation’ meant the caddies always had to sign NDA’s to be paired with Tom’s group and the chosen few were those personally recommended by the golf course. She’d always stuck out to him, mainly because she seemed to be biting her tongue as they worked their way round the course. Caddies, also by job description, were not to speak unless spoken to; to be polite and courteous but not chatty. So, given how professioial she was, had taken some convincing for Tom to drag it out why she looked in physical pain whenever they played the 13th hole.

~~

“Look somethings on your mind I can tell! If you hate me I can arrange another caddy I just -“ He followed her march to back from the hole toward the little buggy, ahead of his brothers and Dad who were making small talk from behind.

“FINE! Okay fine.” Reaching the end of her tether, Y/n snapped, whipping her body round to face him. “It’s your grip! On this hole especially you always play the driver with you pinky too far down the shaft, it’s why you always end up in the bunker on the 13th! It’s bloody infuriating because them I’m the one that has to clean the buggy you’ve trampled sand into!”

“Oh…. I-I … I wasn’t expecting that” Tom had spoken quietly, in an unfamiliar tone to Y/n. Over hours she’d spent on the course with them over the months, Y/n had gotten used to his storytelling voice when recounting an insane experience to his family that he’d had in the world of Hollywood; his grumpy voice when he played badly, which was often; and then his gloating voice - most definitely the worst and intolerable. This voice though, was different.  

“I-I’m so sorry I have no right, I just-“ She’d out her foot in it …. badly. The young actor was one of the most clubs most prestigious and valued members; and she’d just insulted him. Clearly, she was also about to be in search of another job. 

“No no I appreciate your tip… I didn’t even realise you play?” His gracious smile calmed her nerves a little, though Y/n still wrung her hands together as she replied.

“Well we aren’t supposed to talk about it but the club let us employees loose after hours… I practice quite a bit”

“Seeing as you think my game is so shitty, you fancy a round next time?”

~~

Flash forward 3 and half years and a proposal, they were now taking their next massive leaps in the world together. Bringing a whole new life into it. It was bloody terrifying, they both openly admitted. But it was also exciting, new, incredible and… and made them even closer. Now they had to be in each others lives forever, no escaping. 

“How many days left?” Craning her neck back on his shoulder so Y/n could meet his brown eyes, she knew the answer would be immediate. 

“15 till the due date and the app said they’re the size of a rhubarb but I don’t really know what that means.” He knew more about the pregnancy and birth than she did. He had about a dozen different apps on his phone (including one pointlessly comparing the size of the baby to carrots/ watermelons/ onions), had read 4 different books (which for Tom was the equivalent to reading Newton’s book ‘philisphica Mathematica’.)

Ever since she’d told him about the pregnancy Tom had excelled every expectation Y/n had of him… massively. Without even having a conversation surrounding it, he had explicitly cancelled all major work commitments within 2 months of the due date and until around a year after. He had flown back and fourth across the world so he could pop in and check on you. He’d also set his whole family on becoming your minders when he was away - Y/n wouldn’t have been able to go a day avoiding a Holland (or Osterfield) if she had tried. 

The pregnancy thus far hadn’t been the easiest though, hence why Y/n still appreciated to constant worrying texts and calls. During the first trimester the morning sickness had been literal hell; and then you’d had a little bit of a scare with pre-eclampsia during the second. It landed you a 3 day stay in hospital and a very very panicked Tom rushing back from New York on the first possible flight. 

So now? Y/n wanted the baby out. She wanted family life as parents. (At which point hopefully Tom would stop comparing the size of your child to an assortment of different fruit and veg)

“You know, you really are going to be the best dad in the world Thomas Stanely Holland.”

“And you Y/f/n y/m/n y/l/n are already a pretty impressive mum.”

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It was 3 o’clock the next morning when Y/n awoke with a sudden groan instinctively rubbing her stomach in an attempt to get them easing up. Now too familiar with Braxton-Hicks contractions, the weird cramping that waxes and wanes but never letting her get any rest - Y/n knew she was in for a long night. With a muted sigh she carefully lifted Tom’s arm off her side, cautious not to disturb him. The poor boy had been up most nights with her, just because baby wasn’t letting her sleep, it didn’t mean Tom wasn’t deserving of rest either. 

So making furtive movements at a snails pace, she attempted to tip toe out the room - yet as Tom had pointed out before, she looked almost like an elephant, so everything was relative. Surprisingly though, she was successful, escaping onto the soft cream carpet of their hallway before choosing to venture into the room opposite theirs. It had once been a spare room, though more correctly termed the ‘shit room’ because that’s where all the accumulated shit they got was thrown. Now however, Tom and his brothers had taken on the mammoth task of clearing it out and redecorating - creating the most beautiful nursery one could ever see. Complete with a rocking chair which Y/n made a beeline for, now allowing herself to audible groan at the tight sensation deep inside her. 

Normally they would ease after a half an hour or so, yet this time, after what was surely more like an hour and a half they started to…. ramp up. What was a tight pressure sensation quickly became one more forceful volatile and full of pain. She put it off for about 3 or 4 cycles of these, pursing her lips and breathing deeply as she tried to convince herself they’d just simply fizzle away. This couldn’t be the real thing could it? It was too soon - as Tom had said she wasn’t due for another 15 days. It wasn’t happening… was it?

The answer was pretty comprehensively and cohesively given when Y/n tried to stand up, in the hope of walking the ache off, she felt an incredibly tight crunch as her insides seemed to wring themselves together. Oh … and a surge of water soaked her pyjama bottoms. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCKKKK TOMMMM!! TOM-ah shit-  MY WATERS!!! TOOOMMMM”The pain had amped up to a very very impressive levels, forcing Y/n to clutch her sides as she kept bending and straightening back up… as if that would help. Her lonesome agony didn’t last long though, a flustered Tom hurtled in the room - his hair sticking up all over the place and although his eyes were puffy from sleep he still had them glued open impressively wide.

“No its-its too- its too early!” In pure disbelief, Tom shook his head staring across at her face, contorted in pain.

“Yeh because-“ She gulped and exhaled in as much of a controlled manner she could through pursed lips; before answering his stupid statement. “Because I can just HOLD IT IN FOR ANOTHER 2 WEEKS SHALL I?” It took a while for Tom to process, looking down at the puddle of clear fluid on the floor and damp patch on her plaid bottoms while it was Y/n’s turn to look upon his it utter disbelief at his stupidity. 

 “Oh shit shitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!” His words grew with increased volume and place whilst he stayed frozen, his arms reaching out lightly toward Y/n without touching her though. “What do we do?!”

He of course had revised repeatedly and extensively what he was supposed to do when this happened - yet in the moment all knowledge and planning evaporated from his mind. Now wasn’t the time for taking the mick of her terrified fiancé though, Y/n was too blinded by pain as she leaned on the dresser.

“Get the-ah FUCKING hell - phone we need to time them and phone the … the-MIDWIFE.” It was hard to direct a frantic and terrified man when one feels as though her insides are collapsing in on themselves. 

Tom gulped, nodding shakily, whilst trying to take deep breaths because although he was fucking terrified it wasn’t him that was giving birth. He had to step up now. 

It took barely 10 minutes from the midwife picking up to a frantic Tom for her to assess that they needed to get into the hospital asap. During the pregnancy, all of Tom’s rich friends had recommended paying for a private hospital like the ‘Portland hospital’. The idea was it was a much more luxurious and private experience - of course coming with a heavy price tag. For Tom money was not an issue, so he’d suggested to Y/n and met the strongest rejection of all his life. The NHS was by far the only choice in Y/n’s mind - of course it busier, a lot less serene and not as private; but if god forbid something did happen, that was where all the experts and resources were. The idea of being able to pay for better access to healthcare actually repulsed Y/n and everything she stood for… so in short Tom was met with a very blunt refusal. 

Once they arrived on the ward, all it took was one look at Y/n’s inflated belly and the way her body was squirming in the wheelchair Tom was pushing, whilst laden with the baby bags they’d had packed and prepared for weeks, for the pair to be rushed into a side room. After an intense 20 minutes of getting Y/n settled, getting her full medical history and inspection of her vagina the hmidwife’s head popped up from between her legs with a kind smile. She explained in a calming and gentle tone that Y/n was 5 cms dilated and had got to that point fast, yet now things looked to be slowing down a bit. With final words of advice of try to relax she left the pair to it. 

They both looked at each other, a matching expression of confusion and relative terror blatantly clear in both their eyes. It had them both burst out laughing, if Y/n then scowled at the pain that shot through her side.

“This is really happening huh?” Tom murmured as he rounded the bed to gently run his hands through her sticky hair.

“I don’t know unless you really do want me to postpone their arrival for a short while?” Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head, although not really able to surpress the chuckle at his finances humour - even if it was at his expense.

“Glad to see you can still be as sarcastic as ever.” He laughed but before she could reply another wave of contractions hit making her instead just scream - grabbing his hand so tightly Tom was certain a bone or two were crushed in the process. 

It was another hour or two of the same traumatic sight of watching the women he loved more than anything in the world be in such extreme pain. God knows how his appreciate for his mother grew in that moment - she had had four kids overall, two of them twins! Tom dared to think of the scenes in that room of twin brothers birth. Having to deal with both Sam and Harrys large heads…

Harrison had arrived in the meantime, he was to be the child’s godfather and Y/n was more than happy to have him there - even if it was more of a support to Tom than Y/n. Quite expectantly though, he was just as terrified and useless as Tom - so instead of having one idiot to deal with, the midwives now had double trouble of terrified men. 

And yet after another 1 hour or so Y/n was being told to make one final push. Baring down on the gas and air tube, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut together whilst simultaneously contracting every muscle in her body with what little energy she had left. Hearing Tom and Harrisons words of encouragement; the midwifes orders and her own long and continuous scream, Y/n pushed with all she had. It was excruciating and torturous yet she kept going until the most beautiful sound was the only thing left reverberating round the room. 

Her babies cry. 

Tom looked at the scene in awe, feeling an almost out of body experience as the midwife unfolded from her position leant over the bed looking up to Tom. 

“Do you want to cut the cord Dad?” Releasing a breathy laugh, tears collecting in his eyes he looked down at Y/n. She looked a mess - hair flying all over the place; sweaty sheen and a ruined look on her face; panting hard as she caught her breath. But to Tom? Never had he seen her look more beautiful, especially when she managed a small smile, nodding encouragingly at him. So he moved round to the end of the bed as the nurse motioned, while Harrison squeezed Y/n’s shoulder with the proudest look on his face. 

It was the first time Tom had ever seen his child. And really, seeing a wrinkly little pink thing covered in all sorts of gunge - it shouldn’t be such a magical moment. But here he was, a single tear escaping over his lower lashes at the sight of them wriggling about. The midwife gave him a second, before gently handing him the medical scissors and directing him as to what to do. Once done, the lady announced the room it was a beautiful baby girl.

The next hour or so was a bit of a blur, the whole situation felt extremely surreal to everyone - but perhaps most to Y/n. Although the baby was premature the doctors had checked and were confident was perfectly healthy, so after both Y/n and Tom having their turn holding her (Tom finally got his real skin to skin time) they brought in a little incubator where she could rest while Y/n was recovering. Due to her prematurity, as a safety net, the doctors did want to keep the baby girl in overnight for observation, which meant the whole party would be staying too. 

Y/n loved nothing more than watching Tom and Haz with their baby. The way they delicately cradled her in their strong arms and the way their eyes softened so inexplicably. Y/n swore that had she not just pushed a watermelon sized human out her vagina, the way Tom looked while holding their daughter would make her pregnant all over again.  

“I still can’t believe you two created a real life human.” Harrison mused while standing with the baby girl in his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he watched her sleep soundly. 

“To be fair it was mainly Y/n” Tom laughed as he squeezed Y/n’s hand (wincing internally as it hurt his already injured hand - Y/n had an almost death grip)

“Oh no credit where credits due… he was involved for a whole 3 minutes or so.” Harrison snorted and Tom scowled at her, yet her cheeky if exhausted grin instantly erased any annoyance.

“Don’t make sexual jokes in front of our child!” He retorted, Harrison still laughing at his friend. Haz loved Y/n too - she made Tom a better version of himself. And now, she’d made him a dad. 

**triggering part starts here

After all the excitement of the early morning it was more than fair to say Y/n was shattered, Tom not doing much better. So after a little bit, Tom joined Y/n on the bed and they instantly fell asleep to the light beeping of their babies heart monitor. Harrison stayed in the arm chair in the corner of the room, wheeling the little incubator right in front of him to just stare at the little girl. He had been texting Tom’s family too, giving them details of when they’d be allowed to come and meet the little one, who had just woken up to all Tom’s frantic texts from the night before.

Eventually though he was ped ousnapt of his happy daze, looking over to the bed and seeing Tom groan as he shifted on the mattress that was technically only spacious enough for one.

“You good mate?” Harrison spoke in a low voice, keen not to disturb either the baby of Y/n - she had earned a bit of peace. Tom just mumbled in response, rubbing his eyes as he sat up before letting out a deeper groan.

“-hat the fuck” Tom lifted up the blanket covering them both as Harrison looked on inquisitively. But then Tom leapt off the bed, started violently shouting Y/n as he shook her in a look of desperation. It was violent and harsh, Harrison was horrified as he immediately stood up in an action to pull Tom off her. 

“Tom what are you-“

“Get help Haz.” Tom turned around to look at Haz, only at which point could the blonde haired boy make out why Tom looked so insane. Because his trousers, and the bedsheets that were now not hidden by the blankets, was covered in a red sticky substance. Jaw dropping, Haz slalomed round the incubator to stand at the foot of the bed. 

It honestly looked like a horror scene. Y/n’s lower half was completely saturated in a bright red liquid that slowly was creeping further and further through the sheets. Her face looked pale, Haz cursing himself for not noticing earlier and her breathing… it looked so slow it was barely noticeable. The silence was only endured for a few moments, before Tom turned back to violently shaking the dead weight below him yelling her name repeatedly and frantically. 

As soon as the alarm was raised more and more staff piled into the room, each one carrying a new level of importance and seniority - instantly taking control of the room and shouting orders. Tom had long since been pulled away from the bed by a nurse, who was trying to speak to him and calm him down, but was completely ignored as he focused on the scene over their shoulder.

“Looking like a primary PP bleed but she’s lost at least 3 pints already…. Somone bleep the aenestists and lets get moving to the OR please!.. We’ll need bloods crossmatch 5 units….”  

Tom heard to the controlled sense of urgency in the lead doctors voice and he felt as though his heart was being torn straight from his chest. Harrison took over from the nurse, half restraining - half hugging him as the nurse ushered them completely out the room.  Shouting over Tom’s desperate pleas to let the doctors do their thing. He fought hard against Harrison but ultimately his hold was enough to keep him back, the two watching from he corridor as Y/n’s bed was wheeled rapidly out the room - what seemed like at least 12 staff members bustling after it.

Harrison knew it was hopeless to try and talk to Tom, as he paced up and down the ‘relatives room’ the two had been confined to. They didn’t have a clue what was going on, no-one seemed to want to tell them - making the worst case option appear the most likeliest in Harrison’s head. A nurse had said the baby, as yet unnamed, had been taken down the neonatal unit so that it was one thing less for them to worry about ; but refused to say anything about Y/n, saying a doctor would come and explain soon. 

It must’ve been 20 mins, even if to the two men it felt like a lifetime, when a round and short, greying man with big black rimmed rectangular glasses entered the room. Tom was too in his own head to even notice, pacing up and down the room while constantly running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his breath in regular time - even if his brain was on overdrive.  It took Harrison calling his name twice to make him snap out of it, looking up with desperate pleading eyes to notice the stout man, a sympathetic smile on his face. 

“Are you Mrs y/L/n’s husband?”

“Fiance”

“I’m Dr Webber the consultant gynaecologist,  shall we take a seat sir?” Tom stayed rigid, standing opposite him in an offensive manner.

“She’s dead isn’t she?” At Tom’s cold words, Haz’s breath halted in his chest. It had been what they’d both been thinking, of course, it was natural when you see someone with more blood out their body than inside it. The doctor seemed a little shocked at his frankness, pressing his lips together as he let out a sigh. 

“No sir she’s not but she is very very unwell. Please, let’s sit down so we can talk about it because I understand it’s a lot to take in.” It took a couple of movements of Tom stood frozen staring but Dr Webber held firm, waiting until Tom took a seat next to Haz before he moved - drawing a chair from across the room so he could face both men. 

“First off I’m sorry you were removed from the room and put in here for so long but these situations are incredibly hard and to get Y/n the best care we needed the whole room.”

“Doctor I just… I just need to know what’s going on.” He couldn’t deal with the state of unknowing, Tom was going insane, he didn’t care for the small talk. 

“Sorry right, so what we think happened was your fiancé developed a condition called ‘placental accreta’. In simple terms, a bit of the placenta is stuck in the uterus and causes bleeding.”

“That much bleeding?” Haz couldn’t help himself from butting in, he knew this wasn’t really his place, that he was just being there for Tom. But at the same time that was his godchilds mum, it mattered. 

“Honestly? Usually not, Y/n had very severe bleed… So she has been taken in for surgery, where the very talented surgeons are trying patch up the affected blood vessels. I’m afraid at this point that’s all I can really say.”

“So… she’s going to be okay?” It was desperate plea for something that, even if Tom wouldn’t admit, he didn’t really believe - it seemed as if none of the three in the room did. 

“It’s not that easy I’m afraid. Assuming the surgeons can stabilise the bleeding and fix it…. with blood loss like she has suffered we… we don’t know what the effects of that will be. We tried to prevent as much damage to her brain and body as possible with transfusing blood into her and it was good that she was in hospital so could get treatment almost immediately…. But I’m afraid it’s simply too early to say. The first hurdle is going to be getting her out of surgery safely, only then can we deal with whatever happens next.”

Tom had so many emotions flashing through his head. He knew the doctor was trying to go slow to make the information a little more digestible  but it was all so bloody incomprehensible. So when the greying man asked  both men if they had any questions, neither took up his offer. Surely they both would after hours of processing and analysing but for right now? They were stunned into silence. 

“Okay sir, now I hope you don’t mind me saying this but it really is important for you to hear. You are now a father, as Y/n is a mother. This situation is never easy but as a first time dad I need you to be aware that now your fiancé can’t be your only priority. We are all here to support you but please, just remember that.”

Harrison was so glad the doctor had said that, it was so completely true - yet Haz knew he didn’t have enough power to have said it to Tom. The whole thing was impossible and at the centre was an innocent, beautiful but totally dependant baby. 

“What happens now then?” Haz had to ask on behalf of his friend, who was now completely overwhelmed. Dr Webber sighed, leaning back and rubbing his knees before answering. 

“If the surgery is successful it’ll be at a best estimate two hours before we will have news for you , then she will be taken into intensive care where everything else would be assessed and further investigations would happen. You can both stay here or go get food, maybe go down and see the baby in the neonatal ICU? I personally promise that as soon as any of us get any news you will be the first to know.” 

He was met with the sort of silence that makes you shiver. Sighing heavily, the doctor rubbed his knees, apparently preparing to leave. “This possibly one of the worst case scenarios that could’ve happened but Y/n is in the best hands and we will do everything for her. If you do think of anything you want clarification on, grab one of the nurses and they’ll come and find me.”

And then he left. 

The room was deathly silent. Harrison couldn’t dare to look over at Tom - he knew what he would see and honestly seeing Tom like that would only make it worse. God knows how long they sat in those plastic lined, lightly padded hospital chairs. Both in silence. Just thinking… or more like worrying… or more like dreading. It was Tom who actually broke the silence first, his voice barely audible but still the meaning was crisp and clear. 

“I can’t do it Haz” For the first time since the doctor was with them, Harrison looked at Tom, catching him directly in the eye. That hurt… Tom’s eyes looked so, so… hopeless. He knew what his broken friend was saying, but honestly Haz didn’t want to hear it so he did not respond. That didn’t stop Tom though, he continued. “I can’t do it. … I-I can’t be a dad without her… I just can’t.”

What the hell was Harrison supposed to say? There wasn’t really a guidebook to this situation. He was clueless. So, cautiously Harrison just leaned over, wrapping his arms round Tom as he all but collapsed into his friends chest. Tom was sobbing harshly as Harrison looked up at the ageing ceiling tiles, trying to surpress his own emotions because now clearly wasn’t about him. 

“You can Tom… you have to.” His friend didn’t respond, well apart from harsh sobs that racked his frame. And so Harrison just let Tom cry, folded awkwardly and uncomfortably over the arm rest of the chairs, occasionally yelling into his chest at the unjustness of the situation. 

It wasn’t fair. But it had still happened. And there was still a baby girl by herself downstairs. 

//////

is this okay or too much? I won't write another part if generally people think its a bit too dark!!!!