#it just ends up a super heavy drink it should be a bit lighter surely

[red-dyed-sarumane]

OKAY VOCACOLLE SUMMER TOP 15 SONGS (my ranking) LETS GOO

1. Kannagi - Hiiragi Magnetite: the lyrics on this are going to keep me occupied for the longest time until i understand it better. the atmosphere of this song is just incredible, the addition of the bells in her hand in the song, the light chime-y parts of the the instrumental, the piano, the longer notes, u dont need to know the lyrics to know theres a sense of regret in here. theres enough in the chimes u can feel the inner reflection in this, & like other series songs it hits that standing at the end of world in the rain feeling. its paced so perfectly it doesnt even feel like 6 minutes. series wise i think thats not only a call back to kyuuyaku but like shoushitsu & kyuuyaku it shows off that loop theme, getting into whats going on building it up, theres a bit of calm and then it picks up again. lots of story telling & details in it to add to the narrative. haru fits it so perfectly & that's definitely by design. this song has already embedded itself in my heart

2. Stockholm Office - Crump: if kannagi wasnt posted this would take first place EASILY IMMEDIATELY. i cant say in words how much i loved this so instantly. the light whispery-ness of kafu & the spacey-ness of certain instruments and parts combined with the heavy groundedness of the rest of it is so so perfect. the poetic way the lyrics show off the state of things in this song without being super blunt about the complaints in it & the overall rhythm of it draws me in so so much. they really matched the mood of the instrumentals & the lyrics so perfectly. its not spacey enough for me to say true dissociation type feel but theres such a strong feeling of disconnection in this, that feeling of lying to urself to stick something out which im sure is entirely intended given the title. im about to become the number one promoter of this song its one of those found it at the perfect timing things for me.

3. Candy Drop - yurame: this has the usual yurame song feel. i can only describe it as sounding how carbonation in drinks feels. its trendy sounding but at the same time is all its own thing and authentic feeling. the lyrics are written in a way its like ah yeah i get that feeling. despite the lightness of the instrumental its good at getting that melancholic feel across & isnt jarring in the slightest. flower has that mix of rough & cute to suit this as well. very good song.

4. Quiet - szri: szri's usual quick & heavy pacing definitely building off what they did in anaphylaxis. even includes the smallest part of it & u know i love songs that connect to each other. gekiyaku & kafu are such a good combination too especially how they pull it off. not a very light song in terms of content but fun nonetheless & isnt that what vocaloids about.

5. Euthanasia - Dopam!ne: a lighter/simpler song in terms of instrumentals that he does. nice change & still very distinctly his style. definitely not a light song in terms of content the guy even put a content disclaimer at the end. still easy to listen to if u like his style tho. good song

6. Waste - mairu: this ones probably about as heavy as szri's quiet musically speaking though theres a few calmer sections. flower's roughness fits the topic well i think. another one where the mood of every part of the song just seems to align well. i dont have anything profound to say i just think its neat

7. OSINT - Sheeno Mirin: i love the atmosphere in sheeno mirin songs a lot & this one doesnt disappoint. interesting vocal combination choice not that they overlap in any part & they work well with what they were going for. theres something brain scratching (in a good way) about the instrumental, a full sound thats got a weight to it but isnt too much. its really good idk what else to say

8. groom groove - yowanecity: i feel like its been forever since ive seen anything from yowanecity i really should follow them anyway i got really excited to see they posted & this didn't disappoint. its got that bounciness i expect from their songs. fun & smooth sounding. makes u want to dance. definitely worth your time.

9. Capsule - Fuyuu: cat rime & sekai thats so fun i love that and then the gachpon theme on top of it so fun. the sound is not what you'd expect from that description tho. it has a darker feel to it almost grungy i want to say but definitely not off putting. as part of the rime lover nation i love this song. this is going to end up stuck in my head all the time just like crow crow does. very good & both sekai & rime sound like they belong in this song 👍

10. Gambit - Yunosuke: another trendy, almost bubbly sounding song from yunosuke. pretty atmosphere to it. love the whistles & traditional sound instruments mixed in with the otherwise modern electric type sound its got going on. this would be fun to sing if i take the time to learn the lyrics. super good very worth your time

11. Rain - Gomennasai ga ienakute: the usual simple sounding style they have, deceivingly simple sounding bc its very clearly not. the tension building part right before the 3 min mark hits me in particular. very cool rin high notes at the end. very nice melancholic mood to it. maybe i should rank this higher its growing on me the more i listen to it. their lyric sense is very good. compels me. definitely give this a listen.

12. Static Love - Hagino: kafu rap nation rise up. its got that chiptune sound at first that gradually gives into a more modern edm sound. a good mix of cute, cool, and fun sounding. underrated the mixing & execution of this is too good to only have a few hundred views & yet here we are. worth your time

13. Prototype - Aira: THIS SONG GOES SO HARD!! coko chisei is such a good combo too. interesting theme going on here but the melody & such is just very good. the lalala parts make it seem a little lighter than it actually is. love the slightly wavering slightly squeaky sound on both vocals. lends a certain charm to this song.

14. Lewder Liar - Zensen: another great electro swing song from zensen. very fun fresh sounding instrumentals & flower's in no way out of place here. good mix. kind of an interesting theme going on here what with the demon stuff etc.

15. Death Game - Uron Riyu: this one is so fun to me. kafu running a death game. posting this as a vocacolle song feels like its framing vocacolle itself as a death game between songs & thats such an interesting way to look at it. kinda fun. the composition on its fun in its own way too. ik it's supposed to be dark but its just a fun song to me.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough. 

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin��� nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly. 

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered. 

“I like this one,” you said. 

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…” 

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed. 

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head. 

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut. 

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

[hopelesshawks]

Official Accounts Part 27- Think Fast

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Warnings for alcohol and recreational drug use

Masterlist

Hawks watches somewhat apprehensively as you put solo cups, mixers, and multiple handles of hard liquor out on your counter. “You look more terrified right now than I’ve ever seen you before facing a villain,” you point out. “I trained my whole life to fight villains. This is new. How many people did you invite?” He asks incredulously. “Just the Baddies,” you shrug. “All this is for just seven people?” “Technically all this and more, Kacchan’s bringing beer and Mina’s bringing white claws. Don’t worry we won’t finish it all!” you assure him before briefly pausing. “We probably won’t finish it all,” you correct yourself. At seeing the continued hesitation in Hawks’ face you stop your preparations for a moment and turn to him. “Hey I can call this whole thing off if you want,” you offer, but he shakes his head. “No, no don’t do that. Beneath the nerves I’m excited I promise. Plus what would people think if the great Hawks chickened out of a simple little party?” “I’m more worried about Keigo right now than Hawks.” “Keigo will also be fine.” “Ok, but you are more than welcome to stop drinking whenever. We won’t pressure you to get drunk if you don’t want to.” “I am older than you, yknow. You don’t have to baby me.” “Older yes but I, dear Keigo, am the more experienced and wiser one here.” “Well then, oh wise one, why don’t you show me the proper way to take tequila shots.” “I’ll grab the limes.”

You and Keigo might have gotten the tiniest bit carried away with your pregame so by the time the rest of your friends come knocking at your door you’ve already got a buzz going. As you swing the door open Denki and Mina are grinning back at you, Denki with an impressive bag of weed and Mina with the promised white claws, as the other three wave from behind them. “Let’s get fucking plus ultra in this bitch!” Mina yells and the rest of you reply with similar enthusiasm as you usher everyone inside. “Hawks and I already started so you guys have to catch up,” you tell them as you unlock your phone and toss it to Kirishima to pick the music.

At the start of the night you made a point to stick close to Keigo so he’d always have a familiar face to rely on if he got overwhelmed or didn’t feel like talking anymore, but as the drinks kept flowing you were delighted to find he seemed to be doing just fine on his own. In fact, Denki genuinely seemed keen on getting to know him more and the rest of your friends were just as welcoming. Soon it felt just like any of you all’s usual hangs and it wasn’t much longer after that that everyone was properly drunk. Soon Mina had somehow convinced Bakugo and Kirishima to back her up in an impromptu round of karaoke while Shinso and Hawks watched on from the sidelines. Denki sidles up next to you, throwing one arm around your shoulder while holding a perfectly rolled joint in his free hand. “Shall we head to the balcony?” he asks with a grin. You throw one more glance Hawks’ way to double check he’s doing well and when you see him burst into laughter as Bakugo and Mina fight over something inane, you feel something warm spark in your chest. “We shall,” you confirm before letting him guide you over to the glass door and opening it with a flourish.

There’s a chill in the air but the alcohol flowing through your veins means you barely feel it as you step onto the balcony and lean across the railing, Denki joining you as he pulls a lighter from his pocket. He places the joint in his mouth and then lights it with the kind of ease that comes from experience before taking a large hit and passing it to you. The two of you pass the joint back and forth a few times before Denki finally speaks up. “So how’s the little arrangement going so far?” he asks. “Better than expected to be honest.” “Have you guys talked about what happened yet?” “Not explicitly. He told me... a lot... about his past so I kinda get it now? but not about the night it went to shit.” Denki hums in acknowledgment. “How are you doing in general after everything that happened?” he asks. “I’m fine Denki.” “(Y/n)...” “I mean it. Don’t worry about little ol me.” “I’ll always worry about you.” “And I, you. Now stop killing the vibe. This is supposed to be a party remember?” Denki laughs at that as you move to sit on the railing of the balcony.

Keigo has to admit he’s pleasantly surprised by how tonight is going. He had worried about dropping into the middle of your friend group and spending the whole night feeling like an intruder but instead all of you have welcomed him with open arms in spite of everything. Between that and the alcohol he’s feeling more uninhibited now than he ever has his entire life. “I should’ve done this sooner,” he declares as he takes another sip from his solo cup. Next to him Shinso laughs, “damn right you should’ve.”

“Hey Kacchan!!” he suddenly hears you call. When he looks over he notices you sitting on the railing of the balcony. That can’t be safe, you have to be at least as drunk as he is and the joint you’d been sharing with Denki has burned pretty low so you’re definitely high too. “Think fast!” you shout and then you’re letting go and leaning backwards until you’re falling, the bright grin on your face never faltering. The blood in Hawks’ veins runs cold as he watches you disappear from sight. The muscles in his back twitch on instinct but barely any of his feathers have grown back yet so he. can’t. save. you. He can’t save you and he’s starting to panic when he notices Bakugo launching himself over the railing, the sound of explosions loud in the quiet night. Hawks jumps as he feels a hand land on his shoulder and turns to find Shinso giving him a reassuring smile. “Sorry should’ve warned you. She does that a lot, especially when she’s drunk,” Shinso tells him. “What? Falls off buildings?” “Yea pretty much.” “What?” “It’s a trust thing. The first time she did it was to prove a point. She knew he’d catch her. Now I think she just likes the feeling of falling while crossed.”

Bakugo reappears over the balcony with you giggling on his back completely unharmed and Hawks releases a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “That’s a lot of trust. When’d she start doing that?” Hawks asks. “I’m actually not sure,” Shinso replies, “yo Mina!” “What?” “What year did (y/n) start the whole ‘think fast’ thing? Second or third?” Mina walks over to join the conversation, plopping down next to Shinso. “Uhh I think it was third year after they started dating” she says. Shinso shoots her a look and elbows her but it’s too late. “They dated?” Hawks asks. Mina’s eyes widen in realization but it’s too late to take it back so she instead says “I’m gonna get more to drink!” and jets back off to the kitchen. Shinso rolls his eyes. “Yea, they did. In the end they decided they were better off as friends though, especially because Bakugo was a lot less mature then.” “That’s why she gets away with calling him Kacchan.” “Yea, probably. That was years ago now though, I don’t think anything’s happened between them since. I wouldn’t worry about it,” Shinso assures him before excusing himself to go talk to Denki.

Hawks knows it’s not his place but he can’t help but feel jealous now watching you tease Bakugo about getting slower as he lectures you on being an idiot. “I’m not an idiot!” you pout. “What else would you call someone that intentionally falls off a building?” he seethes. “Was there any chance you would have let me hit the ground?” “Obviously not, dumbass.” “Well there you go! Perfectly safe!” Bakugo sputters, his cheeks reddening, before finally grumbling “I’m getting another drink,” before walking away. This only makes you laugh harder. “Love you Kacchan,” you tease after him. “Fuck you!” he shouts back.

He’s one of your best friends. He’s one of your best friends. He’s one of your best friends. The phrase plays on a loop in Keigo’s head in a desperate attempt to quash the jealousy burning through his chest but he can’t help it. How long had the two of you dated? “Longer than the two of you did,” his brain unhelpfully supplies. His thoughts are interrupted when Kirishima drops down next to him with two beer cans in hand. “You look like you’re pretty deep in your head and (y/n) would kill me if I let you stay that way. Ever shotgunned a beer before?” Kirishima asks. “I didn’t realize I was that easy to read,” Hawks says as he takes one of the offered beers. “Typically you’re not. Watching you in action? You’re totally inscrutable dude, it’s super manly! But when you’re with friends you shouldn’t have to worry about that. Anyway, let’s not talk heavy shit man, am I teaching you to shotgun or not?” “Fuck it, why not.” “That’s the spirit!”

The party eventually reaches its natural conclusion as exhaustion starts to overtake even the effects of alcohol. Not to mention, your friends are keenly aware that unlike you and Hawks they actually have to get up and be out for work tomorrow. Hawks isn’t surprised when you give each of your friends a tight hug goodbye. He is surprised when the same offer is extended to him. It’s almost scary how perceptive your friends can be. When Mina’s hands get a little too close to where his wings should be he can’t help but flinch and immediately she adjusts. The rest of your friends make a point to avoid the area. Bakugo and Kirishima are the last to leave and it takes everything in Hawks not to let his jealousy show as you hug Bakugo goodbye. He’s once again shocked when Bakugo goes to hug him but he soon realizes that it’s not necessarily done to be friendly. “Take good fucking care of her bird brain. Cause if you don’t? I will,” he whispers harshly. As the two pull away from each other their eyes lock in a silent challenge until Kirishima calls from the hallway “Bakubro let’s go! Taxi’s here!” “I’m coming Shitty Hair relax!” he shouts back before finally breaking eye contact and heading out the door with one final wave in your direction.

Author’s Note: The party was honestly pretty built around the “think fast” scene. Once that idea came to mind it refused to leave. The Bakugo stuff well 👀 what can I say I like ✨drama✨ also I felt a little bad that Bird Boy stole the fic I was gonna write for Bakugo from him. Originally I was gonna have Hawks’ jealousy be unfounded but then I saw an opportunity and decided to run with it oops

Taglist [open]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @the-adzukibean @a-fucking-sero-kinnie @ladyzayismultifandom

[frogtanii]

It do be wind anon. Taking a break from correcting tests (I am suffering) and reading PF

Anyway, let’s just get into the reaction. Iwaizumi’s itinerary has become useless. Meiko has rejected the idea! Such a shame.... and honestly, every where I see in her group, they say “she deserves it” for things that are good, but honestly the guys deserve their time too and it would be a shame to not spend time for yourself.

They are breaking backs trying to accommodate for Meiko and I am upset because she’s not even in an actual relationship with any of them. But she is so blatant and honestly, while she did everything to flaunt her ‘superiority’ to YN, she is really making it hard for them to like her as much as they used to.

Besides her very obvious “meeting with a guy that none of you know while pushing all the work onto you all” I actually want to specifically mention the number and size of the suitcases she had. Like seriously, during their dinner she was underdressed and started drinking a serious amount of alcohol because she has no coherent logic to her actions. She was underdressed. What the flip were all the suitcases for then. It’s not like she would buy suitcases while they are there right. What would she bring back, sand??? And if she ended up actually shopping... what a flipping hypocrite. My gosh, I mean, if you were going to do it, just do it with Oikawa.

Honestly, if the guy that she is referring to here is the same guy as the one mentioned previously (who may or may not be Suna), I am intrigued. Because if it is Suna, he has the core strength to German suplex her or whatever the move is called. I am getting increasingly more violent the longer I think about Meiko it seems... but yes. Cue fatality.

But back to the suitcases. It’s...a weekend right? 2 days there. Why would you need more than one suitcase? And honestly, you only really need a backpack right? Like... 2 changes of comfy clothes. One somewhat fancy. (I mean, Iwaizumi was very focused on his itinerary so he should have informed them that they would be going to a more upscale restaurant so they would be prepared...) a coat for night when it gets cold. I don’t think you’d need to bring food and stuff. Like... why would she need that much. Is one of her suitcases just makeup. Like an entire pile of hecking makeup. I would be so disappointed in her.

Suga is sitting with us, Suga is sitting with us!~ I’m quite happy about this clearly. I would love for him to join in on the sing-alongs. It’s a bit later so chances are less upbeat playlist...slightly more dark—slow+reverb style haha. But y’know they could be singing Disney songs the entire way. That would be fun. Like “under the sea”.

I think I’ve been going out of order hmm. Anyway, I like how Meiko just pushed all her suitcases onto Akaashi to deal with. I mean...she likes Iwaizumi for his arms. You mentioned it before in an ask reply. So why not him? And honestly...Daichi and Osamu are also more buff than Akaashi? Akaashi is pretty but his limbs aren’t suited for pure strength. Though...if it’s Meiko’s suitcases, she should be able to move her own so maybe it’s not that heavy, just really bulky? I dunno—

In any case! I am looking forward to Akaashi interactions... I think Bokuto and Akaashi would really benefit from a heart to heart without Meiko’s interference. Like, Akaashi has been so...smothered by her. Bokuto is not a good liar. He may be naive, but he speaks the truth as he knows it and he tries to seem optimistic. But the fact of the matter is he has a decent intuition. And he’s definitely learning and understanding himself more thanks to the therapist. (I still don’t remember their name fully... Dr.Otsusaka? Dr. Otsusuka? It was Otsu-something right?)

Akaashi has definitely become more timid and ragged thanks to Meiko. I mean, he was indeed mean to YN before but it’s again, not fair for Akaashi to have to deal with this.

Meiko is toxic. The others became toxic towards YN after Meiko started her ministrations. We do not excuse what they have done to YN, but the root of the matter (the root of all evil...) is Meiko.

We can be upset as we can see the full matter as a third party. We are upset that the guys fell so willingly for such a terrible person. We are upset at their bias. We are upset that they are blind and unable to see the bigger picture. We are upset that they are victims too and that they haven’t yet realized how much they have changed due to Meiko.

We can condemn their actions...but in the end, they are people who have been horribly misguided, and because of that, I am willing to see them all try and get better.

The first step is gaining mutual understanding, and that only happens when people can interact with each other.

Bokuto and Akaashi are equals. They have spent time together. They have a past history. You know the people you have spent time with. You see their good points a lot.

Actually, considering Omi and Akaashi have similar natures, I thought they could talk it out first. But I’m super happy to see the Bokuto+Akaashi dynamic.

I hope that they become close again. Animosity is terrible when it comes in between friends.

I’ve gone on quite the speech, haven’t I? In any case, might try to end on some lighter thoughts.

Imagine the boys in black leather lace-up boots. Just...them.

Okay, I’ll end it here. The update was very well-written as always. Take care of yourself and rest up! We may be very blatant with our YN Supremacy banners, but we are all fans of you. Much hugs to you fr0ggy <3<3<3

wowie this is so nice to read!! you’ve written a lot this time n i always enjoy going through it hehe <3 m not sure what to address specifically cs my brain is a cup of pudding atm BUT i will v much imagine the boys in lace up black boots,, 100000/10

[libsterslobsters]

What Is And What Should Never Be Pt. 2

Summary: After the reader reveals the reason for her odd behavior, a lot of changes take place. How will she and Bucky adjust to the newest development in their always complicated life together?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see shards of the future at random, understand every language, and process information abnormally quickly as well as being a super soldier)

Warnings: light angst, fluff, light smut, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy

*************************************************

“I’m happy about this.” The words are murmured against her shoulder. It’s a little ridiculous; they’re two full-grown adults who’ve been together for years, not teenagers in the first blush of romance. And yet, he’s still kneeling next to her and she’s working her fingers through his hair like this is a proposal.

“Me too.” She finally finds her voice, but it’s shaky, teary. “I’m also scared, Buck.” She can see shards of the future, for pete’s sake! That should give her a head’s up about life’s events, and yet somehow, she never imagined them here. She’s been running since the first time she realized those “daydreams” of hers come true. And when she met him, well, kids seemed like the last thing their lives would have room for. At this point, maybe she should just expect the unexpected.

“Me too.” At least she’s not the only who’s unsure of how to proceed.

Eventually she has to end the moment and return to the real world. The real world where kitchens don’t clean themselves. Placing one last peck on his forehead, she nudges him out of the way with her knee. It’s comical, the mild pout that settles on his lips as his eyebrows shoot up.

“Huh?”

“The dishes. We should probably clear them away, or else they’ll be a bitch to wash tomorrow morning.”

“Language, Doll.” Did he really just..? His right hand which, somehow, is still resting on her waistline gives her middle a gentle pat. “Can’t have the baby coming out swearing like a sailor.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Bucky, the baby doesn’t even have ears yet.” At least, she doesn’t think so. She really needs to do some research.

“No?” The smirk on his face clues her in that a (probably terrible) joke is about to be made. “Then why don’t you go on up to bed? You need your rest so you can get a head start on making them. I’ll handle the dishes and join you in a little while.” She’s right; it’s terrible. But she’s not going to protest if he wants to clean up.

“Alright.” While he’s doing that, she’s going to google which week of pregnancy babies develop ears. And maybe change into something more comfortable.

In the confines of their bedroom, she considers the delicate nightgowns and lacy underthings she has tucked away from special occasions (or really any time one of them needs cheering up), but ultimately doesn’t like the look of any of them. Not tonight. Not after the distance that’s been between them for the past week, where she was so at war with herself that every time he touched her, it sent a stab of panic and guilt through her heart. No, this is a return to normal, reassuring themselves that they’re still okay, it’s just another bend in the road. After all, she thinks to herself as she climbs into bed and arranges the sheets to rest over her body beguilingly (a small part of her doesn’t want to just lie there naked in case he’s somehow disgusted by her now, although she knows it’s a foolish thought), she won’t look like this for much longer, so she may as well make the most of it.

Any concern is erased when he walks through the bedroom door and immediately freezes, carefully eyeing his way down her partially hidden body from head to toe like so many times before.

“I really did mean just rest, you know.” All the while, he’s tugging his shirt over his head.

“I know.” She nods, a slight smile on her face. “But it’s only a little after seven. There’s still plenty of time to rest later.”

He settles on the mattress next to her, leaning so close that she can feel his shallow breaths on her cheek.

“Are you sure?” It’s sweet, and she does appreciate the consideration, but it’s been long enough, and she’s almost certain he needs this as much as she does.

“Of course I’m sure.”

It’s gentler than usual, more whispered, “I love you’s”, soft gasps and deeper moans. Almost as if they’re rediscovering each other, both trying their damnedest to push every last hot spot that they’ve discovered over the years. This isn’t just sex (not that there’s anything “just” about anytime they’re together), but a way of reminding each other, “You’re safe. I know you, and you know me. You’re cherished. I’m not going anywhere.”

Afterwards, in the quiet of the afterglow, their bodies still pressed together with his chest to her back, he asks,

“When did you start to think-”

She doesn’t wait for him to finish. It’s obvious what he’s referring to.

“The food poisoning.” Which in hindsight, she feels pretty stupid for even considering. “I really did believe I’d eaten something bad-” It’s subtle, so subtle you might miss it, but she catches the quiet sigh of relief he lets out knowing that their promises hold true, they’re still completely honest with each other. “-until I remembered that I haven’t so much as had the sniffles since Nat put the needle in my arm.” It’s been years, but she still sometimes forgets that she doesn’t have to worry about things like the flu or her shopping bag being too heavy anymore.

“And, when it wasn’t better the next day…” She trails off, absentmindedly playing with his hand where he’s still got his arm thrown over her waist.

“I thought that was kinda weird too.” He chuckles quietly. “Now I really wish I’d made you stay home that day so we could’ve figured it out together.”

She doubts that either of them would have immediately jumped to the conclusion that she’s pregnant (they take precautions, even if those precautions aren’t fool-proof), but decides to go with the lighter option and concentrate on-

“Make me?” She cranes her neck to see his face. “And how were you planning to do that? Tie me to the bedposts?” His lips quirk up into a smirk.

“Now there’s an idea.”

“Watch it, Barnes.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Bucky’s a light sleeper, so he wonders how he missed it before. But now that he knows it’s coming, he’s immediately awake when she slips out of bed and bolts toward the bathroom. It appears that super serum is powerless against morning sickness.

It’s a few minutes before she’s in any position to speak, much less sit up from her crouch over the toilet bowl, and in that time, he’s swept her hair up out of the way and started rubbing gently between her shoulder blades. When the sickness finally does ease up that she can lean back against him, he asks,

“Is this why you’ve been getting up before me?” He may not have heard her, but when his alarm went off, there was no way he could miss her side of the bed being empty and cold.

She groans quietly. “What do you think?”

He thinks she looks exhausted and so very small, curled in on herself on the cold bathroom tiles. With all the things he’s done in his life, guilt’s a familiar face, but it’s never been as heavy as it is now, seeing her suffer. It’s just part of the process, he knows that. It may not have been the topic of polite conversation back in his youth, but it still cropped up when mothers and grandmothers came together and talked. She’ll feel better eventually, but for now…

“I think I’m gonna read the room and shut up.”

She laughs tiredly. “Good answer.”

Several more minutes tick by before she tells him that she thinks it’s over for now. He really wishes she’d let him carry her back to bed, but when he suggests it, she rolls her eyes and teasingly calls him a mother hen. Still, once she’s safely tucked back under the covers, he goes downstairs in search of crackers and a glass of water. His phone is still on the nightstand charging, so he can’t do a quick search of what else is good for nausea, but decides to throw in some dry toast as well.

By the time he’s back upstairs with his tray of home remedies, she’s asleep again. A huge part of him wants to just let her rest, but he knows he should probably get her to choke something down.

“Come on, Doll. Wake up for me.” She’s not as light of a sleeper as him, but the words in combination with him brushing back her hair make those delicate eyelids flutter.

“Wha-”

“Let’s get some food in you, and then I’ll let you go back to sleep. Promise.”

She doesn’t look too happy about it. In fact, her breathing is growing heavy again. She’s going back under.

“Sweetheart, please. You need to at least have some water. If you’re dehydrated, it’s not good for you or the baby.” That seems to be the magic word. With a groan, she sits up, still rubbing lightly at her eyes.

“I forgot…” She mumbles as she accepts the glass of water and slowly begins to drink. She forgot…? Oh. Well, she’s only known for a little while, and frankly, he’s still trying to wrap his head around it.

His wife is pregnant. That’s not a phrase he ever thought would apply to him (correction, he mentally amends; he used to hope for that one day, but after mad scientists experiment on you, well, an apple pie life seems unlikely). In a few months, there’s going to be another person living with them. One made out of them both, who’ll rely on them for safety, security, and love. She’s up to it, he’s absolutely sure. But him? He’s got a lot of baggage. He’s killed people. He’s missing a fucking arm, for goodness’ sake! How could he ever-

“You’ll be a good dad. You know that, right?”

She’s slurring a little, still half-asleep, and he’s a tiny bit concerned she’s going to go under and choke on that cracker she’s nibbling at. Still, she’s looking him square in the eyes, a small smile on her face. Maybe she saw a glance of the future which showed her what he’s thinking. Maybe she just knows him that well. Either way, he’s not sure of it, but-

“I know you’ll show me how.” She’s almost back under, so he brushes a few stray crumbs from her lips with is thumb and tucks the covers back around her shoulders. “And so will she.”

“She?” Her eyes are closed even as she asks. “You think it’s a girl?”

He’s not sure why he thinks that, or more, why he feels it, but he does.

“Yeah, Doll.” With a quick kiss to her forehead, he collects the now empty glass and starts towards the door. “I think it’s a girl.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Doll, aren’t you supposed to see a doctor at some point?” So close. She was so close to falling asleep (which seems to be all she wants to do lately) after marking the last paper in preparation for Monday morning. Still, it’s a valid question, and one she’s thought about herself.

“At some point, but you’re not supposed to go in until the eight week mark.” At least, if google is indeed correct. He nods and goes back to half-heartedly staring at the tv show in front of them.

“When is that, by the way?” She opens her mouth to tell him it’s not for a while, but then she realizes that… oh boy.

“Um…” When was the last time she had her period? It’s not like she keeps up with it. They weren’t trying to have a baby, and they were reasonably safe (in hindsight, maybe not as safe as they thought), so it didn’t seem necessary. He’s staring at her intently, expression growing more and more concerned with every second she doesn’t answer, so finally, she has to admit-

“I don’t really know. Do you have any idea?” She’s expecting the answer even before he says it.

“Not really.” 0 for 2. That sounds about right.

“Shit.”

“Shit.”

For a brief, hysterical moment, she thinks about scolding him for his language since he did it to her earlier, but that thought gives way to the more pressing matter: how pregnant is she? Not that there’s varying degrees. Knocked up is knocked up, and it’s pretty damn clear she is.

He’s the first to recover. “Okay. Let’s count.” Counting. Something she can do.

“Not in the last twenty-eight days, or else the test wouldn’t have worked…”

They spend a solid ten minutes trying to figure it out, but neither of them can narrow it down any further.

“We’re idiots!” She’s nearly shouting out of frustration with herself and whoever up there has it out for them. Seriously, just this once, couldn’t things be easy? “We’re actual idiots!”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” The pressure of his hand around hers calms her just a tiny bit.

“Okay.” She nods. “Not idiots, but we do have crappy memories.”

He offers her a crooked smile. “Hey, I’m over a hundred years old. My memory’s supposed to be shot. What’s your excuse, Pretty Young Thing?”

“Baby Brain.” Is that even a thing this early on? Then again, is she early on? She has to be, right? Otherwise the morning sickness would be over. And she’s not showing.

He chuckles. “You’re gonna be using that one a lot, aren’t you?”

The layers of stress are beginning to melt away. She nods.

“You have to admit, as far as excuses go, it’s a pretty solid one.”

Ultimately, she decides it’s best to make the call Monday morning, but schedule it for at least another week out just to be sure. They don’t want to go in and be lectured for jumping the gun, after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Can you just confirm your name and date of birth for me?” That has to be the sixth time she’s been asked that since they walked into the OB-GYN’s office. He really would have thought they’d have it down by now. Still, she recites off the information from her place on the exam table.

“Great.” The technician smiles brightly. “Now, if you can lift up your shirt and roll down your pants, we’ll start the ultrasound. This is just to give us a better estimate on your due date and make sure everything’s looking good with baby, alright?” She must say something in response, but Bucky can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. This is it. They’re about to actually see their baby for the first time and hear the heartbeat. He’s not much for prayer, but he silently pleads with whoever might be listening that she’s fine, she’s healthy.

The screen is gray and grainy for the most part. So far, it doesn’t look like much. “Fluid looks good. Placenta’s where it should be, and-”

Does the tech have to push down that hard? Can’t he be a little more gentle? Surely it’s not necessary to use that much force when you’re trying to get a read on-

“-there’s your baby.” His mind immediately empties, instead focusing on the blurry image on the screen.

It’s a blob, and if he’s being honest, kind of looks like a tadpole that’s just grown arms and legs. The head is huge, and at the center is a flickering light.

“That’s the heartbeat. Would you like to hear it?” Again, she must say something, because an impossibly fast rhythm fills the room. There’s actually a little person in there. How can something so delicate with a heartbeat like the beat of hummingbird wings, already have such a huge place in his heart? How is it possible that he suddenly can't imagine life without that brightly flashing blob currently growing in his wife's womb?

He’s in a bit of a daze throughout the following appointment and exam. The doctor informs them that they're at 9 weeks and 5 days and gives them a predicted due date. After a far too invasive physical exam (at least to his mind, but she doesn't seem to think a thing about it(, they're given an appointment a month out, a prescription for prenatal vitamins, and sent on their way.

Once they’re in the car, a stack of brochures clutched in his hand and an envelope full of pictures in hers, he finally musters up the courage to speak.

"Looks like we really did it this time, Doll. She’s actually in there."

"Hey, at least it's not twins." She smiles as she speaks, but it’s a little uncertain. “Are you sure you're okay with this, Bucky?”

He thinks about telling her how completely in awe he is that he had anything to do with making something so tiny and perfect, how he's overwhelmingly in love with someone he's never met, not to mention how he's that much more in love with her, and he didn't think that was possible, but for now, he goes with-

“Yeah. I’m okay with it.”

Closing the gap between them, he presses their lips together in a kiss. This is just another bend in a long, winding road, but he has a feeling it’s the best one yet.

[lokidrabbles]

Hold My Hand (Loki x Reader)

Reader goes through an episode and begins to question their feelings for Loki

A/N: This is another angst ridden oneshot, which originally was intended as this super agonizing break up story, but I was able to end off in a much lighter note. Though I am not terribly ‘proud’ of this one, perhaps some of you can find some comfort in it! As always, Gender Neutral Reader! Warnings: Angst, mentions of depression, potential break up

The realization hit you like a barrage of bricks, and it was absolutely horrifying. The truth had been displayed right in front of you, and while the past year was wonderful and unbelievable, it had to be said. You had an instinct to declare it to yourself, so the tantalizing dream could finally break away.

You couldn’t be with Loki, because you didn’t love him.

Or, at least, you weren’t sure if you did.

A relationship with him was simply idealized in your head like a made up fantasy. You grew extremely close to him, and soon he became the first thing that would pop in your mind each day. It was wonderful to feel that same thrill, that same ecstatic excitement you had missed for so long. For a while, Loki had become your totem, a way to motivate yourself each and every single day. A role model who had overcome such travesty, and would help you push yourself to your fullest potential. He made you feel things you’d never imagine you could feel, both emotionally and physically. The best way you could describe it was an exquisite high, one you wished you would never run out.

It would all diminish as time passed on, and the extreme guilt overwhelmed your once content self. The same familiar cloud began to hung overhead, plaguing you with the worst intention. You had been using him as a way to replenish your long missed happiness. And it was the most selfish thing anyone could possibly do to him. You’d begin to recall the many nights you had selfishly coerced him to stay with you, an effort to avoid your loneliness and satisfy all of your physical needs. He would always comply, and you figured it was because something frothy like this with a human wasn’t as morally compelling for someone who was over a thousand years old.

But it was still using him for such a egoistic reason. And so you began to question whether the feelings you shared for him were based on something genuine, you actually being in love with him as a sole person, or because he paid attention to you, and kept you away from those debilitating memories.

The discourse in your head would soon begin to affect you, and it wouldn’t take long for Loki to begin to realize it.

Your energy around him began to dwindle, and his random pops into your home would almost be unnoticeable. It was as if your feelings or him, or anything relating to him, had completely hardened. The facade became exhausting, and soon your expression would too become hardened.

Loki, as introspective as he was, took a bit to catch onto it. He would fully come to confront you however once he saw you physically tense up at his playful hand over your waist. You had never reacted like this before, and the message was loud and clear. You did not want to be touched by him, it was just to difficult to deal with.

Your usual chipper walks back to your home were now silent and swift. You still felt some obligation to talk to him about what has been plaguing your mind, but even looking at him would cause physical discomfort. You were terrible, and you felt unworthy of even standing next to him.

An evening, one shrouded by a crescent moon and scattered night clouds, would finally provide you with the courage necessary to confront him. You recognized he was able to sense your nervousness, and began the excruciating conversation.

“What have you been hiding from me?” He asked, but you interpreted it as something more of a command.

You felt a lump form at your throat, still avoiding to look at him in the eyes. “I don’t think...we should be together anymore.”

He halted in his steps, as you continued to walk a couple ahead of him. You stopped however, remaining still, waiting for an answer.

“You’ll have to run that by me in a better way.” He said, his voice still firm.

You turned towards him, only looking at the path over his feet. “Just what I said. I don’t want us to be together anymore. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” Your voice was hoarse, holding back the lump still.

The air became heavy, and Loki was still immobile with your words. He then scoffed, and chills ran through all of your body. “Right, of course.”

As if on response, your eyes began to fill up, the burning sensation making it difficult for you to notice. All you could do was nod. Pathetic.

“Could you, at least explain to me why?”

You weren’t really sure why, but a part of you wanted to scream out and tell him to just forget about what you said and go back to how it was. “I don’t want to be with you, that’s why.”

“Look at me, human.” He demanded again.

“Loki, I can’t-”

You felt his touch at your chin, and you flinched again. Loki stepped closer to you, and used his hand to raise up your face to finally look at him. You expected his expression to detail his rage and disappointment towards you. Indeed, you had used him like some fanciful thing to take away your insecurities and solitude. And you knew Loki was not a man who appreciated being toyed with. You braced for the worst, but was met instead with the look of a man who appeared....fearful.

Loki’s gaze darted all over your face, and you could notice the twitching at the corner of his lips. His eyes would too become glassy, shining with the dim moonlight. You had never seen him like this, but still felt disconnected from it all. You were disgusting.

“I’ve felt you pull away from me, from my touch, and I’d imagine I must have upset you in some way. But, this?” He said, a small nervous laugh escaping from his mouth. “I don’t...have I hurt you?”

You were so disgusting. “No. I’m sorry, it’s not that.” Your voice continued to linger, low and unfeeling.

“Tell me.” He said, and you noticed his jaw trembling. “Say what’s on your mind.”

You disconnected from yourself completely, wanting to avoid feeling the pain of your own words. It was better this way after all, and if it mean severing your connection from him, then so be it.

“I don’t...feel love for you. I don’t think I ever did. I’m so sorry for misleading you all this time. It’s just, I don’t think its fair to you.”

His face fell hollow. The shine is his eyes vanished, and he removed his hand from under your chin. It had been done.

“You are indeed, the worst kind of human I have ever encountered.”

You couldn’t breathe, and your body went numb. This was it, and the journey would be long and grueling. He hated you now, despised you.

Through the tormenting reality, you then felt him grip your arm harshly. You yelped, but it was soon cut off by Loki’s palm landing firmly over your forehead. He pushed your head backwards slightly, and you began to feel a warm sensation at it’s nexus. You felt your eyes roll at the back of your head and began to lose touch with your present reality, all too quickly.

Your vision became hazy, and smoky figures began to take form and shape in this new space Loki had throw you in. You began to hear murmurs of people talking, and the images and voices would become more apparent. Your memory would take its full shape, and two distinct figures fell into place in front of you.

It was you and Loki, together. You both were together in your home, sharing a warm drink across your kitchen table, squabbling about something you still couldn’t make out. Your voice would pan out, and the conversation would prick at your ears.

“If you ask me, I think you’re abilities are much more handy to have in combat than whatever Ironman’s fancy suit does.” You heard yourself say.

“If only everyone else shared your magnificent introspection of my combat ability. Alas, I am only restricted to certain things. Of course, I know exactly why, but it’s not very fun.”

“Well, I have a feeling you have a very skewed notion of fun, Mr. Mischief.”

“I think you humans have a very boring perception of fun.”

“But! We are still very charming in other ways, yes?”

You saw him roll his eyes, while swirling the hot drink in his hand. From an onlookers perspective, you saw yourself beam and giggle at his reaction. The smile forming across your face was addicting, and you had seldom seen yourself in such a way. Your hair was a mess, you wore unfitting clothes, and your face was natural and bare. It was a heavy contrast from Loki, who was wearing a well fitted suit, but it was something you did not bother to worry or feel conscious about. You knew how to be happy, that was for sure, but lately it was all amiss. You were happy during this moment however.

“Charming, in the sense that you seem to get an enjoyment out of my distress and suffering? Then yes.” He said, jestingly of course.

“Oh, I’m not that mean to you, am I? I just poke a little humor at you so you don’t feel so awkward with me.”

“I believe we are past that, aren’t we?”

You remembered how you had felt your hear flutter at his words. “What would that mean for you then, Mr. Mischief?“

“Perhaps this courtship has worked its way to my satisfaction. Or perhaps you are just fun, that is all.” He had shrugged casually, knowing he was teasing at you.

You sputtered a laugh. “Courtship? Sheesh. Let’s just call it dating and maybe we can work through that instead.”

“Dating is for children. If you’d like for me to be more bold,” You saw his hand reach over the table to hold at yours. “ This is my way of saying, that I have grown very fond of you.”

“Go on.”

He smirked. “I will admit, I was very apprehensive at first, especially considering the circumstances of our coming about. Also, I have a bad history with humans as it is.”

You saw yourself place your other hand over his, and you recalled gripping it tightly, as a way to demonstrate your own fondness over him. “It’s weird for me, to have you say that. Because I’ve come to known you for the person that you are today, and that’s why I’m always so excited to see you every day.”

“Then we share the same energy. I cannot promise you, however, that things will be...what you would consider ‘normal’. I hope you comprehend there’s a lot of baggage I carry with me still.”

“I guess I’ll have to ask you the same in regards to me.”

“I can tolerate anything you’ll throw at me dear, in that you can have my word. I’ll support you through everything.”

“Can I tell you something, that is completely vulnerable and embarrassing?”

He nodded, and you saw how you had worked up your own courage to reveal something you had long forgotten about.

“I haven’t really felt like this about anyone in such a long time. It’s scary, especially considering you’re an alien to me, but I think I can say I lo-“

“Stop. Stop it. Don’t.”

You had completely forgotten about this too. You had come to discover about Loki’s inward embarrassment for when someone would flat out mention those three little words to him. You recall how his mouth twisted, and how he averted his gaze at you, as if to hide to pinkness in his cheeks.

“Oh my god, you really can’t hear it, can you?” You had asked teasingly.

“Don’t push it. We were having such as great conversation, and then you-”

“Oh, Loki I love you sooooo much!” You exclaimed, with your own mischievous smile.

He got up from his seat in a huff, walking away into your living room while murmuring something along the lines of how much he hated you and how it was all a mistake. You skipped behind him, still saying those words in a sing song manner. You heard him raise his voice at you, but it all became muddled once more. The fixed image began to smoke and haze out, now left with puddles of memories. It began to roll off, leaving a single pinpoint of light and you felt your body transported back to the present. Your eyes rolled back into place, and you gasped heavily.

You pushed Loki off of you, causing you to stumble backwards. You attempted to catch your breath, as you began to process what exactly had happened. “What did you do to me?” You asked in between huffs. “What did you do!”

“What’s the matter?” he asked, looming over you. “Surely you’d remember something like that, or perhaps it was too painful?”

“Don’t you ever do that to me again!” You exclaimed, stepping away from him. “How fucking dare you get in my head like that!”

“No, how dare you just toss something like that to the side?” He snarled at you, but you stood your ground. “You really expect me to believe something like that?”

 A rush of adrenaline hit you, furious at how he had entered your subconsciousness, and furious at how he wanted to manipulate the situation. You clenched your teeth, allowing him to release everything onto you, despite it all.

“I’ve simply demonstrated to you exactly what your mind is experiencing. Not wanting to be with me? Very unlikely.” He continued, now completely towering over your.

You couldn’t comprehend the level of arrogance he was showing. “You don’t know what you’re saying. I can’t believe how pretentious you are being about this!” You said.

“You’re acting as if you never knew this about me. However, I did hear something else in your mind.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I do know you, stupid human. You’ve been calling yourself those poisonous words again. They continue to echo inside your mind, and you didn’t bother to discuss it with me. Why?”

The distance between the both of you was smaller now, but Loki hadn’t made a move to lay a finger on you. You expected him to reach out to you, encircling his arms around you, and shushing you, telling you everything would be okay. But you had been pushing away during this whole time know, and perhaps this had been his way to respect your space. You desperately sent out a solemn thought to him, to disregard all of the foolish things you have done and to simply embrace you tightly.

“I don’t know.” You felt the tears stream down your face, as you began to tug at your hair. “I’m so sorry, please it’s not you.“

You toppled downwards on your knees, and unleashed the wave of unrelenting depression and anger. Your wails were horrendous, and they echoed all over the block. You never wanted something like this to happen, and you never wanted to hurt him in such a way.

Shortly, you felt the same familiar warmness across your shoulders and back, feeling Loki’s breath at the top of your head. Your body continued to shake violently, still adjusting to the sudden release of sentiment, but experiencing a huge sense of relief, as if a boulder had been lifted from your back.

“I’m sorry I invaded your mind like that.” He whispered to you. “But I wanted to show you that memory I hold closer and dear to me. I still feel the same, and I hope you still do as well.”

Your mind traveled back to that moment in time, now possibly forever crystallized in your head. Both you and Loki, holding each other’s hands, allowing each other to be as vulnerable as possible, while still providing each other with the utmost security and confidence, as much as any two individuals could.

“Do you still wish to end this?” He asked sternly.

You shook your head, burying your face deep into his shoulder. “No, but, I don’t feel like I should just accept it like this. I fucked up so much, I hurt you-”

“You did not hurt me.” He cut in. “I’m not a child you know. You saw me clearly telling you before, did you not? I will be with you, even at your lowest of moments.”

“I’m so sorry, I do still love you.” You said with a muffled voice.

He let out a low chuckle. “I’ll still recoil upon hearing those words. I do apologize for that, but you have nothing to apologize for. You are the most important and precious thing in the universe to me. So please, promise me that you won’t go through your anguish on your own anymore. For me?”

It had been something you were longing for throughout that night, his own special way of unraveling the mess that you concocted inside yourself. It was that utmost attention to detail which continued to draw yourself to him. He had used this piece of time, this memory which you both shared, not to manipulate or coax you into something else, but you simply remind you. You saw yourself, happy in the presence of this man, and you saw him re-experiencing the same long lost feeling.

[chappedandfadedvds]

Nov 17th, Tuesday 18:03

„Robbe, you don’t know how happy I am that you are here. I think the last time we actually saw each other, was maybe in August?“ His mother probably said it for the third time. It were one of her first words that Robbe heard entering the house. Jens was sure it would also be the last. He didn’t hold it against her though. As he feared, that she feared, she may not be able to see his best friend again.

„Well, doesn’t really matter, does it? So you are still living at the flatshare?“ She continued, as she cut half of the wild, colourful array of vegtables. While Robbe did the other half. Jens was on potato duty.

„Eh yeah, Lisa only planned to go for a semester abroad and now she is doing her degree there. But she will be back next year for her masters, so.. we’ll see I guess. Not sure yet where I’ll go to university either, so I anything can happen, really.“ Robbe said slightly uncomfortable to talk about it out loud. He knew it was a sore spot between the two best friends. Who had promised to study in the same city, preferably at the same university, and grow old together. Not that Jens would ever hold it against Robbe, or be cross with him, should he be accepted anywhere else.

„I see. What are you planning to study?“ 

„Uhm, so I don’t really have spoken about it a lot, but I may try to apply to study filmmaking.“

„Flimmaking?“ His mother’s eyes darted over towards Robbe, definitely not having expected that answer. Robbe always had shown more of an interest in sience.

„Yes, I found out that I really enjoy filming and directing. Camerawork in general, I think. And with Sander... he is already excited for me, so I’ll try and see if I’m any good to get in.  Doubt it. Therefore I’m still going to apply for biochemistry like I had planned originally. It’s wierd isn’t it?“

„Not at all. I think it is a great idea to try as many things as you can. Jens, could you pass me the salt?“ His mother told Robbe, smiling proudly at him, like only a mother really could, Jens believed. It made Robbe blush slightly. Jens meanwhile fullfilled his mother’s request and handed her the little shaker. 

„My mom and basically everyone else said the same thing.“

„That’s because it is true. How is she doing by the way?“

„Better.“ Robbe said it so genuine and joyful, that one couldn’t not be happy for him.

„Oh that’s nice to hear, we talked on the phone a little bit last month .She seemed to be doing alright.“ Jens looked up surprised. He hadn’t known about that. His mother had sent him a quick glance, something that unsettled him. Why were they talking? Perhaps a bit unfair of him to assume things. With Robbe and Jens being best friends, their parents obviously also had spent a lot of their time together.

„She is. I mean, there was another small episode when lockdown started, and she was a couple days at the hospital. But since then she is doing great. I visit her at home with Sander every week. They tall so much though. I usually just scroll through instagram there. But it helps both of them. And I love them, having someone to understand, that isn’t a therapist.“ Robbe explained away, definitely being so much more comfortable around the topic. His best friend had really grown up a lot over the last year. Jens was a bit jealous of him being that... Content? He wasn’t quite sure.

„Just throw them in.“ His mother quickly told Lotte, who was an absolute savage when it came to cutting onions. If Jens wouldn’t have seen his sister cry before, he may think she wasn’t able to. 

„I can imagine them having a lot of experiences in common. So you two are still together?“ She continued her little interview, turning back her attention towards Robbe.

„Mhm, a year now.“ His best friend was smiling from ear to ear. A pure ball of pride and bliss whenever he was reminded of his boyfriend. It made his mother chuckle.

„And how is it going?“ She asked, definitely enjoying the boy’s face light up further. If that was even possible.

„I still can’t believe to have him. It still feels the same now. Still exciting and right and perfect. Yes, he drives me crazy sometimes. Does and says stupid stuff. And with his work for the academy right now, he is constantly busy, ignoring me for hours every other day. But we still fall asleep and wake up to each other every night, so I think, we are very lucky.“

„Well said. You are indeed lucky.“ She laughed lightly, nodding through all of it, before she saw Lotte trying to take out the heavy baking dish from the cupboard. „Oh Lotte, wait. I’ll take that.“ She was about to step over, when Jens was taking the bowl from Lotte, placing it onto the counter next to him, smiling at his mother.

„How is your work? Jens never talks about you, other than you are still doing home-office.“ 

Here we go. He had read the messages in chat last night. He knew Robbe would want to bring it up at some point. He had already wondered all afternoon, why his best friend had decided to stay silent about it. 

Jens continued to cut his potatoes, and tried his best not to look over every other second.

„Is that so? Well, it is stressful to say the least. We are nearing the end of a very eventful year, and my department has to get everything ready to plan next year’s budgets, so you can imagine the chaos.“

„Not really, no.“ Robbe answered his mother honestly, trying for a charming smile as she nudged his shoulder.

„Let’s just say, I stare at spreadsheets, over spreadsheets of numbers every day, trying to figure out, what department and project deserve what kind of funds for next year.“ She continued to explain, very aware that it bore most people. Jens included. But his mother always had enjoyed working with numbers, she had told him. It was easier than words apparently. Jens would disagree.

„Sounds exhausting.“ Was all that Robbe said in response.

„It is.“ His mother agreed, not loosing the smile, but definitely seeing where Robbe came from.

„I guess, that’s why Jens has to help out so much, huh?“

And there it was. The one question Jens hoped to avoid in front of his mother. She was not to blame. She was sick and it was on Jens, that his friends didn’t know. It was his fault that his friends thought he ignored them, when he only tried to accommodate for everything in his live. And apparently failing miserably at it.

„Does he? I try to still do as much as possible actually.“ 

„And you do, mom, it’s fine.“ Jens said to try to not have her upset or feel inadequate. Like she should do more, help more. Wich wouldn’t help them. She needed a lot of rest. That’s what the doctor always told them.

„It’s just that, we never really get to see or talk to Jens, other than maybe at the weekend. So we are a bit worried about him.“ Robbe continued blissfully unaware of the things he was asking of her. Jens wanted him to stop. He just couldn’t bring himself to say something. His mother also didn’t need to feel guilty of shutting Jens out of his friend group. He did that just weel enough by himself.

„Oh really? But isn’t it also because of L...“

Noooooooo. Jens let the knife slip from his hands, watching it fall to the ground, before he threw his mother a glance, one that hopefully conveyed that she should not bring Lucas up.

„Mom!“ Thank god, for Lotte! He should write her songs of praise, as his sister called for attention, leaving Jens to pick up the knife. 

„I think the potatos are ready to be put in the oven.“ Lotte continued happily on, making Jens realise that indeed he had stopped cutting them minutes ago and that the baking dish was filled.

„Right! One sec, just gonna add some, oil, herbs and the vegetables and we are good to go.“ Her mother said, starting to pile everything into it, Robbe finishing the carrots just in time.

„So what were you trying to say?“ His best friend reminded of the previous conversation. Damn him.

„Ehm, Lotte and Jens are spending a lot of time together lately, maybe that adds to it?“ Well, maybe his mom had understood somehow. Jens felt so much lighter, the topic being somewhat brought to an end. Or maybe not...

„I guess.“ Robbe looked like he was about to ask something else, when his brilliant little sister’s voice interrupted his best friend, like she had done with their mother. Jens wasn’t sure if she understood and tried to help, or simply had perfect timing. He wouldn’t question it. „Also why didn’t Sander come too?“

Robbe snorted at that, just like Jens did. Of course his sister would be sad about Robbe’s boyfriend being absent.

„He is actually working on his concept for the photo shoot next month and I’m basically always with him so I am very glad to be able to see Jens on my own for once. You know talking and stuff. Sander knows that too.“

„You sat on the sofa for two hours and played Super Smash Bros.“ His little sister stated puzzled, almost accusatory.

„Just like old times.“ Jens said, grinning at Robbe over his shoulder. Who simply nodded in silent agreement. 

It honestly felt like they had been 15 all over again this afternoon. Fighting over unfair game mechanics, cheating, and trying to divert the other boys attention away in order to win. 

Playing rock-paper-scissors to see who had to get up to get more snacks and drinks. 

And just to be them alone again.

Since Jana, there was somehow always another person around. Be it Moyo, or Aaron, or Sander, or another girl Jens dated. Not that it was a bad thing, it just meant that being with Robbe alone felt nice.

Though they also felt closer and Jens wasn’t sure if it was true or just a figment of his imagination. But he believed that Robbe was more... Physical? Maybe his best friend always had been. Perhaps being out and accepted, just made him more comfortable around Jens.

He didn’t mind, he liked cuddling up on the sofa with Robbe.

„Boys.“ Lotte shook her head dramatically with a deep sigh. Much to everyone’s amusement. Ripping Jens out of his thoughts, he almost had forgotten that they all stood in the kitchen. Lotte sighed once more in a grand gesture. Certainly very dissapointed that she wasn’t able to spend her afternoon with a certain artistic boy, before she went back to the table to draw.

„So , I guess that’s it for dinner preperation. Now we wait.“ His mother said, clapping her hands, before she took her phone out to set a timer and join Lotte.

Robbe was already looking at him, when Jens turned his head.

„Super Smash Bros?“

„Super Smash Bros!“

__ __ __

tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[rosedavid]

Slip-Ups

A Merthur hurt/comfort fanfic

tw // blood and injury description //

Prompt: Merlin gets injured nothing too serious, but Arthur gets into super over protective mode and refuses to leave his side. Throughout the day people keep coming in to remind him of his princely duties, but Morgana ends up blocking them and sending them away so that Arthur can spend time helping Merlin.

...

             Usually, Merlin is more careful than this. Okay, well, careful to an extent. There’s a difference between being carefully reckless and just reckless all together. Today, though, he’s particularly on edge. It’s been a tedious week full of constant running about. Arthur’s seemed to be in an especially bad mood recently, as well, probably because he’s been just as busy as Merlin. With his duties as King starting to mount up to incredulous levels, Arthur’s been at wit’s end recently trying to manage his new role and duties. As a result, he’s been working everyone harder; his advisors, the knights, and of course Merlin himself. With every usual duty, Arthur decides to stack on three more for Merlin to do, with a quick grumble of, “Hurry it up!”

             Now, completely exhausted and frustrated, Merlin is in Arthur’s chambers at night haphazardly finishing the prat’s chores. All Merlin wants is to collapse into bed and sleep for the next few days, although he knows that won’t be possible. His stomach growls as he cleans up. Despite his previous reservations about Gaius’s meals, nothing sounds better right now than a big bowl of gruel.

             “Stupid King Prat,” Merlin growls to himself, scrubbing ruthlessly at Arthur’s filthy armor. “Merlin, you missed a speck of dust on my armor! I’ll have you thrown in the stocks! Merlin, my sword is getting rusty! I’ll show him.”

             The worst part is that before all of this, Arthur was actually starting to be (sort of) nice. Until this week, Merlin hadn’t been forced to muck out the stables in months. Although their constant bickering continued then, it was lighter than usual, more playful. Things had been going well, in other words. And now, Merlin feels like he’s been dragged through the mud.

             After sufficiently getting his anger out scrubbing Arthur’s already clean armor, Merlin switches to the sword resting on the table’s edge. This is where things go horribly wrong. So pent up with frustration and weariness, Merlin grapples above him blindly for the sword, still muttering insults. In that moment, he fails to grab the correct end of the sword. Instead, his hand slices against the sharp edges of the sword. He bites back a curse, yanking his hand away. Of course, since luck loves Merlin at the moment, the sword comes with it, slicing even further down to his wrist.

             Merlin clutches at his bleeding hand shakily. Blood pools in his palm, red tendrils slipping down his arm and dripping on the just washed floors. Still trying to comprehend what just happened, Merlin stares at the drops of blood, watching as they fall from his hand. This, of course, is when Arthur chooses to stumble into his chambers.

             “You would not believe the day I had!” Arthur groans, stomping through the doors. “I can’t even breathe without someone telling me I’m doing it wrong! Not to mention, my incompetent manservant doesn’t even have dinner ready for me!”

             Merlin continues staring at the blood numbly. Realizing that Merlin isn’t biting back like usual, Arthur finally turns toward him with an open mouth ready to berate Merlin yet again for something trivial. But the words die on his lips when he catches sight of the boy bleeding all over the floor.

             “Merlin!” He cries out, rushing over to the boy. “You idiot! You’re bleeding all over the place.”

             “Am I?” Merlin wonders, head going a bit fuzzy. Along with the blood loss and lack of food and sleep, his consciousness is gradually wavering.

             “What in God’s name happened?!”

             “Had to clean your sword, prat,” Merlin slurs, the conversation bringing him back a bit into reality. Also, the reality of his pain. “Ouch. That hurts a bit.”

    ��        Arthur rolls his eyes, and if Merlin didn’t know any better, he would think Arthur looked scared behind his façade. But why would Arthur be scared? It may be a lot of blood, but it’s just a cut; Gaius will have him stitched up in no time at all. Besides, based on this week, Arthur didn’t seem to care too much about Merlin’s well-being. Why would he suddenly care now?

             “What did you do, gouge your hand open?” Arthur frowns, tearing off a piece of his own tunic before Merlin can protest. He then kneels by Merlin’s side.

             Merlin hisses as Arthur presses the tunic firmly into the crevice of his palm. “Now I hafta…mend that too, prat.”

             Arthur doesn’t respond; instead, he furrows his eyebrows and purses his lips as he applies more pressure to Merlin’s still bleeding wound. “Think you can stand?”

             “’Course I can stand!” Merlin argues. To prove his point, he abruptly pushes himself off the ground, only to find the world spinning around him. He gasps, tipping dangerously. Luckily, Arthur still has his firm grasp on Merlin’s bleeding hand, so the instant he starts swaying, he falls into Arthur’s side instead of back onto the floor. Merlin blinks away black spots and tries to ignore the pain lacing from his hand.

             “….almost fell, you idiot!” Arthur’s voice comes back into focus. “What if I hadn’t been here? Would you have just bled out on my floor?”

             “I’m fine,” Merlin stresses again.

             “You’re ridiculous, Merlin. Come on, let’s get you to Gaius.”

             With that, Arthur takes Merlin’s good arm and wraps it around his own neck. Then, he wraps one arm around Merlin’s waist while the other continues to hold the now soaked rag tightly to Merlin’s wound. It’s an awkward position that makes it hard to walk, but somehow they manage to make it all the way to Gaius without Merlin passing out (although they had to stop a few times to avoid it).

             Arthur yanks open the door, immediately alerting Gaius to their presence. With the combination of Arthur’s panicked expression and blood still dripping onto the floor beneath Merlin, Gaius stands up quickly to help.

             “My goodness, what happened?” Gaius asks, bringing Merlin over to the nearest patient cot. Arthur helps ease Merlin down into a sitting position while Gaius gathers supplies, including a clean rag to continue to staunch the flow of blood.

             “Sword fell,” Merlin mumbles grumpily, not wanting to hear Arthur’s recount of the tale complete with insults and jibes at his manservant.

             “Will he be okay?” Arthur buts in, holding the new rag to Merlin’s hand per Gaius’s instruction.

             Gaius briefly lifts the rag against Merlin’s cut up to inspect the wound. It’s still bleeding, but not quite as profusely as it was before. “Yes, sire. It will require some stiches and it will be sore for a few days, but you got him here fast enough that infection shouldn’t start in.”

             Arthur lets out a deep breath, stepping back to allow Gaius to clean Merlin’s wound. To Merlin’s credit, he only winces and hisses through his teeth as Gaius cleans up the wound. After all the excitement, though, Arthur can clearly see the fatigue covering Merlin. Guiltily, Arthur stares at him, suddenly realizing just how harsh he’s been to his manservant this week. It’s not like Arthur meant to, it’s just with all the pressures of his new duties as well as his newfound feelings…he thought it best to put Merlin away and to work. If he hadn’t made Merlin do so many chores, perhaps Merlin wouldn’t be injured so badly.

             “Drink this, Merlin, it will put you to sleep while I do your stitches,” Gaius coaxes, bringing a vial of probably foul-tasting liquid to his lips. Merlin doesn’t complain, though, simply swallowing it quickly. In an instant, his eyes begin to get heavy, world blurring around him, before he finally falls into a deep slumber.

             Arthur stares at Merlin for an unknown amount of time before Gaius clears his throat. When Arthur looks back up, he realizes that Merlin’s wound has been all stitched up. It gives him a clear view of the length of the cut, extending from the top of Merlin’s palm down to the bottom of his wrist.

             “He is okay, sire,” Gaius reassures him, placing one comforting hand on his shoulder. Arthur nods through clenched teeth. “Sire, if I may…the guards came by asking for you a few minutes ago. You have a meeting to attend soon. Perhaps you should get yourself cleaned up.”

             Arthur is confused at first because one, he doesn’t remember the guards coming by the physician’s chambers, and two, he doesn’t know why Gaius says he should clean himself up. He only begins to understand the second one when he finally takes a look at his hands, caked with dried blood. Merlin’s blood.

             He doesn’t want to leave Merlin’s side for a second, but he also knows that he can’t forget his duties as King. Conflicted, Arthur looks back at Merlin’s pale face tucked into the side of the pillow with a fondness he never knew he possessed.

             “I shouldn’t leave him,” Arthur decides. “Not like this.”

             “I understand your concerns, sire, but what if I had one of the knights sit with Merlin in your absence? Sir Gwaine would be willing, I’m sure.”

             Arthur considers it, but shakes his head. “No, I just…I can’t leave him like this, Gaius. W-what if this was my fault? It’s been a busy week, and I’ve been working him really hard, probably harder than he deserves—”

             “Arthur,” Gaius addresses kindly. “It’s been a busy week for us all. Everyone is tired and frustrated, including Merlin. It sounds to me like it was just an accident, nothing more. You couldn’t have prevented that.”

             Arthur purses his lips but says nothing. Meanwhile, Gaius pulls up a seat beside Arthur, gently coaxing him down into it. “Let me at least get you a fresh basin and rag to wash your hands off, sire.”

             “Yes, that would be good. Thank you,” Arthur clears his throat, not wanting to see this much of Merlin’s blood ever again.

             As Arthur sits there through the remainder of the evening, guards and members of the court come and go, trying to coax Arthur away with no success. Despite some of their glares toward Arthur’s manservant, and some frankly rude comments, Arthur refuses to budge. A few hours later, he thinks that the guards are about to forcefully drag him out of the room when an unlikely hero comes to his rescue.

             “Can’t you see the King is doing something important already?! He’s been at everyone’s beck and call all week, so I think you can survive without him for one goddamn night!” a feminine voice shouts outside the hallway. Then, there are determined footsteps before the door is being opened and closed gently, a large contrast to the tone mere seconds ago.

             Morgana stands in front of the doorway, as regal and snarky as ever. Even though Arthur tends to butt heads with Morgana more than he does anyone else, he suddenly feels a great relief for her actions. As much as he hates to admit it, he probably owes her one, but he’ll think about that later. Right now, as per Gaius’s instructions who left to take care of a woman giving birth in the lower town, Arthur needs to keep his eyes on Merlin to be sure an infection won’t take hold.

             Silently, Morgana strides over to the other side of Merlin’s cot, where the boy lies deathly still and pale. The only thing keeping Arthur from completely losing it is watching the steady rise and fall of Merlin’s chest. That, and clutching at Merlin’s uninjured hand, which he drops when Morgana comes into the room (although he’s pretty certain she saw since Morgana has eyes like a hawk).

             “He looks exhausted,” Morgana comments, glancing at the boy’s stitched up hand.

             “Yeah,” Arthur agrees quietly, eyes latched on Merlin.

             “You look exhausted too, Arthur.”

             Arthur waves her off. “I’m fine. It doesn’t matter anyway, I have to stay awake to take care of him.”

             “Well, you won’t be any use to him if you pass out.”

             “ But I can’t—”

             “I will watch over him, Arthur,” Morgana interrupts. “I am Merlin’s friend too, after all. Although I have a feeling that he may mean something more to you.”

             A red flush brightens on Arthur’s cheeks, a mix between embarrassment, anger, and thoughts of Merlin. “Morgana!”

             “Hush, I have eyes, you know. I can tell you’re both infatuated with each other. Please, Arthur, go lie down and rest.”

             “If you truly know, then you understand I can’t leave him.”

             Morgana purses her lips in thought. “Then take Merlin’s bed. I’m completely sure he wouldn’t mind. Gaius or myself will wake you when Merlin wakes up, himself.”

             The thought of sleeping in Merlin’s bed sends shivers down Arthur’s spine. It’s not like the bed is anything special based on when Arthur has seen it. In fact, it’s probably more uncomfortable than most of the beds in the castle. But because it’s Merlin’s bed, it won’t feel uncomfortable to Arthur. He hates to admit when Morgana is right, but she has a few good points. Too tired to argue anymore, Arthur takes Merlin’s hand again and squeezes it, bidding him goodnight. Morgana takes his place, hand lingering on Arthur’s forearm.

             “Promise you will wake me if anything at all happens?”

             “Yes, Arthur. I will. Now please, you look worse than Merlin. Get some rest. Merlin will be fine.”

             Arthur barely registers climbing up the steps to Merlin’s room. He practically collapses onto the bed. He breathes in a combination of the smell of soap and Merlin. It’s like home. Nuzzling his face into Merlin’s pillow, Arthur almost instantly falls asleep.

…

The sunlight is the first thing to wake him up, streaming through the window and lighting up the entire room. The second thing he registers is the sound of people moving about in the kitchen. Although Arthur wants nothing more than to curl back under the covers and fall asleep, his waking thoughts immediately drift once again to Merlin. What if Merlin is awake? Or what if he’s worse than before? Arthur shoots up out of the bed immediately while thoughts plague his head. He’s aware of how gross he probably looks and smells, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Stumbling out of the room, his eyes search out the familiar black mop of hair. He finds it quickly, still tousled as Merlin sleeps on the cot. Morgana has now been replaced by Gwen, who is helping Gaius organize some herbs and medicines.

“Gaius, how is he?” Arthur clears his throat, trying to sound less worried than he really is. Based on Gaius’s raised eyebrow, it doesn’t work.

“He’s doing well, sire,” Gaius responds with a slight smile. “He stirred a bit in the night, but fell into a deeper sleep. But based on the medicine I gave him, I bet he’ll be waking up anytime now.”

Somewhat relieved, Arthur goes to take his place at Merlin’s side again, but Gwen coaxes him away. “Have some food, your majesty. Based on what Morgana told me, you haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.”

Begrudgingly, Arthur sits down at the table, biting into an apple. He is hungry, but right now food just doesn’t sound appetizing. Still, he manages to eat a bit, even chatting with Gwen about random goings on in the town. It’s only about half an hour later when Merlin begins to fidget.

Arthur, of course, is the first one by his side. Merlin squirms, wincing as he rolls over on his stitched hand. Arthur rolls his eyes before helping un-trap Merlin’s hand. As he grabs Merlin’s hand, one finger traces beside the stitches in a delicate, almost not-there touch. Finally, Merlin’s eyes flutter open, looking dazed.

“ ‘Thur?” Merlin murmurs, squinting up at him.

“Yes, you dollop-head, it’s me,” Arthur teases, still stroking his hand.

“That’s my word.”

“Is it? Because I think it describes you much better.”

Gaius takes that moment to interrupt. “Merlin, how are you feeling?”

Merlin hums, sitting up more. “I feel fine. Hand’s a bit sore, but otherwise I’m okay. Can I get up, stretch my legs?”

“As long as you take care not to exhaust yourself, that should be fine.”

Arthur frowns, “Are you sure, Gaius? I mean, Merlin was just badly injured. Should he really be up and about already?”

“I’m okay Arthur, truly,” Merlin smiles. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were worried about me.”

In a rare moment of affection, Arthur blurts out, “Of course I was worried about you, idiot!”

Merlin gapes. “Y-you were?”

“Merlin—I found you dripping with your own blood, and it was my fault. I thought—I mean, what if I hadn’t been there in time? You could have bled out!”

Merlin’s face goes stern. “Arthur, this wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was my fault. I should have been more careful.”

“I should have noticed how exhausted you were, though. I’ve just been so caught up in everything…”

Arthur feels a hand intertwine with his own. His heart picks up speed, and Merlin looks at him hesitantly. Arthur makes no move to pull away, simply squeezing Merlin’s good hand with his own. Merlin softens at that, unconsciously leaning towards him.

“You were kind of being a prat,” Merlin admits, earning him a glare. “but I know you’ve been overwhelmed recently, too, with everything that’s been going on. I don’t blame you at all.”

Arthur swallows. “Yes, well, I suppose you deserve a day off after all this.”

At this, Merlin snorts. “How generous, my lord.”

“Hey, I can take that day away!”

Both of them are beaming by now, impossibly closer to each other. With a tenderness seldom shown to anyone else, Arthur brushes a stray strand of Merlin’s hair from out of his eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Merlin leans into his touch.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” Arthur whispers, stroking his temple with one thumb. There’s so much they need to say, but right now isn’t the time. Instead, they both stand there, taking each other in. There will be time for sorting everything out properly later. Right now, they are content to relish each other’s company.

“Me, too.”

[lilyandersonn]

All That is Gold // S.R

Chapter One // Series Masterlist here

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Esther (OFC)

Series summary: Determined to use the powers that hydra bestowed upon her for good, Esther joined the Avengers team after years of hiding. Everybody but Steve is impressed by her, and after two years of being on the team, it seemed a friendship with him was a pipe dream. But a near death experience is about to change everything. 

Chapter warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and gun related injury

Words: 2120

AN: This series takes place in a non-canonical avengers world, if it isn’t obvious. Esther is an empath (she can feel what others are feeling & control their emotions) and has healing/strength powers. Although it’ll be addressed in later chapters, the necklace I refer to her wearing blocks her empathy powers. This is my first marvel fic so please be kind :) I don’t have a beta reader so apologies for any glaring mistakes.

Chapter One

   "Esther, look out!"

   The warning came just seconds too late. It had all happened too quickly. The bullet had found its target, piercing her stomach and throwing her backwards on impact, before she could think about dodging. Her back slammed against the wall behind her, knocking the wind out of her already stinging lungs as she slumped down onto the floor with a surprised cry. Hands instinctively flew to the wound, palms becoming saturated with the sticky, crimson blood seeping through her black suit.

   Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and she could feel trickles of it sliding down the back of her neck as her body convulsed on the snowy ground. The cold November air still stung at her cheeks and the wetness of the ground that soaked her suit made her shiver, but in spite of that, her skin felt like somebody had drenched her in lighter fluid and a lit match to it. Biting down hard on her lip, enough to draw blood, she forced back the involuntary whimpers as her body fought to heal.

   Around her, the fight continued.

  The mission was supposed to be a quick, in and out - she would distract the hydra agents, control their emotions long enough for the three men to get the information they needed and get back out again. But somehow their infiltration had been anticipated, and they were greeted with dozens of agents ready and waiting.

   "Esther, you good?" came Steve's calm, levelled voice through the earpiece.

   "All good," she spoke back, through gritted teeth, "don't worry about me, Cap'."

   She knew something didn't feel right - healing never took this long, and it had certainly never been this painful. The bullet was still lodged in her abdomen, she had no way of knowing if it had splintered or not, and she could only assume it was to blame for the slow, or lack of, healing process. But for the sake of the success of the mission, she tried to stay silent and white-knuckle it.

   Concentrating on anything other than the gaping, bloody hole in her stomach, Esther focused on the snow. It was still coming down pretty heavy, covering the tracks made by the ongoing fight, only to be ruined again as somebody stomped through it, or as a hydra agent hit the floor. Her mind cast itself back to earlier that day, as she and Natasha had giggled like two naughty school girls, hiding just outside the quinjet, ready to ambush Bucky and Steve as they approached, with armfuls of snowballs. She thought about how even Steve, ever the stern leader, had lit up as he and Bucky were relentlessly pelted. And the giddiness she had felt as she and Natasha lay side by side, shrieking with laughter as they created snow angels with their shivering bodies.

   It was definitely a stark contrast to what was unfolding now.

   Smiling to herself at the memories, Esther hadn't noticed that her eyes had fluttered closed, head lolling against the cold brick behind her. The wound still hadn't healed itself, and the snow around her was stained scarlet. There was no way of knowing how much blood she'd lost, but given the way she was losing the strength to keep herself upright, a lot would be a good guess.

   "Esther, don't go to sleep on us, okay?" Steve spoke again, this time unable to keep his concern from seeping into his tone.

   Eyelids impossibly heavy, Esther desperately fought to stay conscious. Steve was still speaking, growing more frantic with each passing moment, in her ear, but he sounded so far away now - as did the fight. The temptation to just close her eyes again, just to rest for a moment, was too much. Everything hurt, her entire body crying out as it still struggled, and failed, to heal. I'll just sleep for a little bit, Esther thought, letting unconsciousness envelop her, like a warm blanket.

   "Fuck! Sam," Steve shouted through the chaos of the fight, too entangled in a brutal fist fight with a surprisingly strong hydra agent to get to her, "get her out of here! Now!"

   "But--"

   "Buck and I can handle this, just get her back to the compound. Now, Sam."

   Still reluctant to leave his two team-mates to fight the agents, Sam faltered - super-soldiers or not, they were still outnumbered. But one look at Esther's frail looking body, crumpled on the ground in a puddle of her own blood, set him into action again. He had to fight off a few men on his way to her, but it didn't take long before he was kneeling by her side, carefully taking her into his arms and flying them out of harms way.

   If it weren't for the slow rise and fall of Esther's chest as they flew through the snowy night, he might have thought she was dead. Her body had healed her enough to keep her teetering on the edge, but Sam couldn't be sure how much longer she could hold out, and flew faster than he had ever before.

*

   Esther finally woke with a start, her body abruptly bolting upright in the bed where she lay, heart thudding violently against her rib cage as she wildly looked around the room. Eyebrows furrowed as she took in her surroundings - a windowsill full of flowers, a balloon that read 'congratulations' tied to the end of the bed, a vitals monitor next beeping rapidly in time with her heartbeat. A hospital room. Peculiar, since she hadn't been a patient in one since gaining her powers. The strangest thing, though, was the blonde super-soldier slumped, fast asleep, in the plastic chair next to her.

   They'd always had an odd relationship. Friends, but not quite. Their personalities clashed far too often than either of them would like - Esther thought Steve was too serious and uptight, and Steve hated that Esther was nonchalant about everything. And they certainly didn't have a close enough friendship for her to not be surprised at the sight of him asleep at her bedside. It wasn't an unwelcome sight - in fact, it was comforting to not wake up alone in an unfamiliar room - just, strange.

   Suddenly, the memories of a getting shot flooding her brain, Esther threw back the thin duvet and lifted the green hospital gown to inspect her stomach - ignoring the fact that Steve could wake any moment. Met with only the sight of smooth, pale skin, her body sagged as she let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Dropping the gown and pulling the duvet back over, she laid her head down onto the pillows.

   Turning her head to face the man next to her, she whispered, throat too dry to speak any louder, "Steve, hey, Steve, wake up."

   Slowly stirring from his slumber, Steve's blue eyes met Esther's gaze. He looked at her sleepily for a moment, his eyelids blinking against the bright lights of the room, until he seemed to remember where he was. Face dancing through a range of emotions, if she wasn't wearing her necklace she would have felt as he switched between surprise, relief, guilt - and was that, anger?

   His mouth gaped open and shut, struggling to find the right words to say, before settling on a lame, "You're awake."

   "I am." she croaked out, the sound of her voice sending him into action as he grabbed the cup of water from the table next to her, holding it up to her dry, cracked lips so she could sip. If Esther wasn't so shook up from waking in a hospital room, she probably would have stopped to appreciate the gentleness in the way Steve held the back of her head, fingers threading between her brunette locks, as he helped her drink.

   "Bruce thought you'd be out for at least another day." he said quietly, as he set the cup back down in its place. And, as if already knowing what her question would be, he spoke again, "You've been out for four days."

   "Four days?" she repeated incredulously, eyebrows arching.

   "The bullet," Steve said grimly, "we think it was meant specifically for you. It was coated in something that was blocking your powers, Bruce will be able to explain it better than I can. But when they finally got it out, your body had to work to fight off whatever it was, and your-- fuck, Esther, your heart stopped beating."

   "Well shit, somebody really wants me dead, huh? I don't know if I should be terrified, or flattered, honestly."

   "Yeah, somebody really wants you dead, Esther. Enough for them to create a weapon designed specifically for you." Steve snapped, soft, concerned expression twisting into an exasperated frown, "So for once in your life, can you take something seriously? Why do you always have to make a joke out of everything?"

   "Who said I wasn't taking it seriously?" Esther bit back, unable to tame her temper, violet eyes fiercely glaring back at him, "Just because I'm not reacting the way you want me to, doesn't mean I'm not taking it seriously. I'm so sorry I don't act like I permanently have a stick lodged up my ass, like some people I know."

   "I'd rather act like--"

   Whatever undoubtedly scathing retort Steve had planned died on his tongue, as Sam and Natasha came barrelling through the open door, both grinning from ear to ear at the sight of their friend awake. Esther suddenly felt a lot lighter, tension spilling from her body like a deflating balloon, quickly sitting up -- ignoring the fuzziness in her head at the abrupt movement -- to greet two of her favourite people.

   Natasha was the first to talk, as he made himself comfortable in the chair next to Steve, who had tried to smile lightheartedly at the two, frown leaving his face, "You look like death."

   Coming from anybody else, Esther might have had some colourful words to say, but she couldn't help the giggle at her best friend's brutal honesty. Although there was no longer a wound there, her stomach stung painfully as her body shook with laughter. The way her face twitched, an attempt at disguising the wince of pain, didn't go unnoticed by Steve, who was still eyeing her cautiously.

   "Yeah well, give a girl a break! Steve says my heart stopped beating, so I technically died," Esther said, jutting her lip out into a pout, discreetly pressing her hands against her cramping stomach underneath the blankets.

   Remembering the balloon tied to the bottom of her bed, Esther turned to Sam, who was leaning against the windowsill, watching on with an amused smirk, "Was this your doing, Wilson?" she asked, nodding her head towards the object in question.

   "I figured it was only right to congratulate you on not dying," Sam explained, a boyish grin on his face as he fiddled with the ribbon keeping it tied to the bed.

   As the three of them burst into laughter at Sam's morbid joke, the legs of Steve's chair scraped loudly against the floor with a squeak whilst he stood, storming out of the room without another word.

   "What's up his ass?" Natasha asked, now lounging at the bottom of the bed, forcing Esther to either move her feet out of the way or be crushed.

   Esther shrugged, staring at the doorway with a frown, "I ask myself that every day."

   "He's been an even bigger ass than usual the last few days," Sam admitted, sitting in Steve's now vacated seat, "he's been badgering the doctors and nurses non-stop, and he just about had a fit whenever somebody told him to leave. To be honest I think that's one of the only times I've seen him willingly leave the room since you've been out,"

   Stunned into silence, Esther fiddled with the pendant on her necklace. A tinge of guilt now stained the unbridled frustration she had felt towards the super-soldier just moments ago. She couldn't help the corners of her mouth curling into a ghost of a smile as she imagined Steve, stubborn as ever, refusing to leave her side, sleeping in that uncomfortable plastic chair just so he didn't have to go. It wasn't completely out of character for him to be so caring, but Esther had never thought that side of him extended to her.

   Sam and Natasha shared a secret, knowing look between each other whilst they waited for her to snap out of it.

   Although content to sit there and ponder Steve's motives for another moment longer, the sound of her stomach grumbling loudly brought her back into the room.

   "I need a burger."

[bapyess1r]

Head Over Heels

4. Head Over Heels

Joe’s POV

I stared at the Bob Marley lighter, twiddling it between my fingers. Now and then I’d look at the girl’s number and smile. I quite liked her. “Samira…” I read aloud as I ran my thumb across her number.

“Joe boy!” My friend Craig snapped his fingers in front of my face, yanking me out my trance. I looked up at his joyful, gap toothed smile and snickered as Mark slapped a heavy hand on me shoulder, letting out a deep, guttural laugh. After Mark and I left McMullen’s, we met up with another mate at another pub. This one was a bit more fun; cornhole, table tennis, giant chess, giant jenga. Of course we went! And I was having a great time until we sat down for a breather and I started thinking about Samira. “Mate, this girl has you whipped huh?” He asked.

When I thought about it, she kinda did have me spinning. I smiled thinking about her dark coily hair and her eyes and the shape of her lips when she cracked a smile. I felt the warm n’ fuzzies! It was not at all natural to my habits to be this whipped but she made me wanna get used to it.

“What was her name again, bruv?” Mark asked.

“Samira.” I said quite proudly. I deserved a fucking gold star for that one I tell ya!

“So! You got a girl’s number! Stop gawkin’ at the number and start drinkin’!” Craig chimed in, grabbing his beer and chugging easily. I smirked and picked up my own pint. I was so bolloxed that I could barely hold the glass up to begin with. But still I clinked glasses with my friends and down my entire beer in one sit.

“I’m ready fer liquor now- oi, waiter! Might I get… a bottle o’ whiskey, please.” I said, stopping a waitress as she skipped by. I had so many feelings about this. Not only did I get a girl’s number, I had real feelings for her. It’s worrying because…. “Who would like a bloke like me, eh?” I thought aloud again, staring into my glass.

“Mate, not this again-” Craig started up.

“Alright look bruv, do you like her?” Mark asked, shushing up our friend.

“Aye….”

“And you wanna see her again, yeah?”

“Yeah, I do, mate.”

“And you have her number?”

“For fucksake, mate, yes!”

“So then pick up the bloody phone and god damn call her!” He shouted, snapping his fingers in my face.

“Honestly, Joe, she wouldn’t have given you her number if she didn’t like ya.” Craig added. I took a long sigh and stared at my feet for a moment.

“I’ve gotta get super drunk fer that first, mate! She uh….. She’s very uh….”

“My god…. she makes you nervous-” I groaned and waved him off as the waitress arrived with my whiskey. Immediately, I twisted the cap and chugged a lot of it. “She does! She makes ya nervous!”

“Okay so what!? I’m gonna call her- I just…. I dunno what on earth I’m gonna say to her.” I sighed, shaking my head. The alcohol was starting to take effect and gravity seemed to almost defy me in every way.

“Just say you wanna do brekkie in the mornin’.” Craig said, gulping down the last of his pint. I nodded my head, sipping my whisky bottle like a soda.

“I’mna do it, mate….. I’ve gotta do it, innit?” I said, trying my best to work myself up to the challenge. I stood up to get my balance back and drunkenly hopped over the railing that closed us in. I grabbed my bottle and unlocked my phone as I walked down the street of the quiet town.

“Good luck, bruv!” Mark shouted making me laugh a bit.

I typed in the number from the back of the lighter and let my finger hover over the call button. I had to do it…. there was only but so many times I can meet someone and push them away. I had to try… With a deep breath and a swig of liquid courage, I called her. My heart raced as I anticipated hearing her voice on the other end.

“Hello?” The sudden click made my heart stop a moment and at the sound of her voice, my brain went blank. “Hellooo???”

“Oi! Is a….is this Samira?” I asked, snapping myself out of my drunken trance. Then I sighed. “Sorry, that was a um… a dumb question- of course it you. T-This is Joe. Ya smoked a joint wit me on the roof at the pub?” I suddenly started to babble absolute nonsense and I mentally kicked myself for it.

“I’m sorry who?” The voice said. My heart dropped.

“I-I um…...erm…. It’s- I’m soo sorry-”

“I’m fuckin’ with you.” She said with a light airy laugh. I gave a big audible dramatic sigh of relief and took a sip of whisky.

“Jesus! I’m so glad! I’m too drunk to cover me arse right about now…” I chuckled.

“You’re still drinking?” She asked.

“Okay, Judgy McJudgerson!” I joked.

“I’m not judging! I just….. I didn’t think you’d call.”

“Why on earth would I not?” I said sincerely, staring up at the star pierced night sky.

“I dunno…”

“I couldn’t stop t’inkin’ about ya since you left wit yer mates…. I hope that’s not creepy-”

“No! That’s um…. really nice of you. Honestly…” she sounded flattered on the other end and I smiled thinking about her smile.

“So um…. I’m callin’ because erm… I wanted to know if maybe you’d wanna have breakfast wit me tomorrow mornin’ or…. or lunch if you’re not a mornin’ person…. I’m not- but I’d still want to do breakfast… if you wanted to…” There I was, babbling again. “I could show you around town if you’d like….”

“Sure! That sounds nice, Joe.”

“Yeah? Nice! Then I….can pick you up?”

“Is 11 ok?”

“Brunch time! Sounds perfect…”

“I’ll send the address! I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah of course! And I’ll um….slow down on the drinkin’ then.” I said with a brief chuckle, taking another swig of whisky.

“Are you gonna be okay getting home?” She asked me as I spun around a few times in the street, walking aimlessly as I listened to her voice.

“I t’ink I’ll be alright, love, t’anks.” I laughed, stumbling a bit as I tripped over my feet.

“Hm…. okay. If you need anything let me know-”

“You’re so attentive…” I blurted out in a brief spurt of drunkenness. She gave a small goofy goober laugh and it made me grin from ear to ear as I walked down the street, not even noticing the pothole ahead. I stepped straight in it, losing my footing and stumbling straight into a nearby ditch with a slight holler, head over heels. I didn’t dare let go of my phone though.

“Joe? Joe?! You good over there?” I heard her say from the speaker. I pat my body down to make sure I was still in one piece and laid my head back down with laughter full of embarrassment.

“Yeah, lass, I’m still here. Hope nobody saw that.” I chuckled as I climbed out of the ditch.

“Are you okay?” She giggled.

“Just fine. I fell over but no mud. Just a spot of dirt…” I said looking down at my now completely dirty body. I dusted myself off and wiped my face with my sleeve.

“Alright well….. Honey is currently being annoying and tapping his watch. We’re supposed to be drunkenly watching a movie.” she chuckled.

“Sounds like a blast. I won’t keep ya… Goodnight, Samira.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Joe.” she said in a rather sweet tone. And with that, she hung up. I punched in the air like an absolute idiot and ran back to my friends. I felt like a weight had been lifted.

“GUYS! GUYS! I’VE DONE IT! I’ve done it, I got a date!” I exclaimed and we began our night of celebration.

Samira’s POV

“Who the bloody hell was that? Callin’ at this hour?” Maura scowled, twisting her long brown hair into a messy bun. Brazil came into the living room from her shower followed by Jooheon just as Maura took a seat opposite me on the couch.

“That was Joe.” I said trying not to seem like I was nervous. The girls mewed cutely and Jooheon of course whined as he followed Brazil to the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich.

“AiYah! Does this guy have any respect for sleepy time hours?” He commented, wincing at the mention of Joe. Brazil rolled her eyes and smacked her lips, pushing his head with her freshly done nails.

“Boy, if you don’t leave that man alone!” She snapped.

“I just don’t want her to get hurt! It’s been a while but Javi’s still fresh. I wanna make sure you take your time, y’know- and we don’t even know this guy to begin with! Maura, back me up here, man! C’mon…” Jooheon replied defensively.

Maura responded in a laidback light, picking at her nails. “I don’t know, Honey. He seems like an alright feller to me. He was nice enough… and cute in like a…. Fashionable hobo kinda way-”

“There’s no way he’s not a hobo-” he retorted pointing at me. I scoffed.

“Jooheon, he is not a hobo!”

“He’s a fucking hobo.” He mumbled to Brazil before taking his sandwich to the dining table and she chuckled a bit at his paranoid nonsense.

“How was it talkin’ with him?” Maura asked. Jooheon groaned in the background but he was heavily ignored.

“He is so fucking funny! Like it should be a sin to be as funny as he is. And he’s very sweet. He’s got this romantic side to him from what I could tell over the phone… He’s just a dork and it’s precious as fuck-”

“Buuut?” Brazil added, pulling a box of tea from the cabinet.

“..... I’m not ready to trust anyone like that again yet.” It frightened me, falling in love again. I was with Javi for so long and I thought I grew as a person throughout our relationship. Unfortunately, I was a complete idiot the entire time. I’m still the same piece of trash I was in high school. I was anxious and I was tired. Mostly nervous about breakfast with Joe. I don’t even know what to say to him… He’s kinda intimidating but such a marshmallow at the same time. I couldn’t let myself get wrapped up in something serious.

“So let him know that and take it slow. You are the one in control of this experience.” She said, filling up her massive water bottle.

“And take it slow slow. Like waaay slow-” Jooheon interjected with a mouthful of sandwich.

“Christ, Honey! She’s not a nun!” Maura chuckled looking up from her phone. Once again, she and Jooheon began their bickering. If I didn’t know them, I’d mistake them for a married couple. It suddenly became too much and I stood with a stretch and a yawn.

“OKAY guys!” I shouted above them, causing them to quiet. “I’m going to sleep. I have a date in the morning…” With that, I briskly walked down the dark colored hardwood floor hallway into my room and shut my door, locking it behind me with a fierce need to be alone.

Author’s Note: I just wanna say I’m really sorry for the ridiculously long hiatus lol I haven’t been doing very well here and I’m trying my best to work on myself. Hopefully my brain block doesn’t last this long again and I can keep bringing you content! Please keep reading 💖

[haileyrhodcs]

𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊

Who: Hailey Baldwin & Demi Lovato ( @dmetriaadvonne )

Location: Demi’s studio

Time frame: October 17, 2020

Description: Heavy heart? Let music do the talking.

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘: Long blonde locks of hair cascaded down and over the model's shoulders, the air from the open driver's window whipping through Range Rover. Her fingertips tapped on the driver's wheel while she sped down the interstate, singing along to the rap song blasting over her speakers. The last few weeks was packed with photoshoots for Levi's, BareMinerals, and a new magazine issue with Vogue and although she loved working with all of those companies, she wanted some days off. Hailey cleared her schedule for the last remaining weeks in October and with that, she began to clear her mind off of Justin. When they called off the engagement and the wedding, Hailey couldn't wrap her mind around it, she swore this would take months or even years for her to recover from. She spiraled into a never-ending self-sabotage battle with alcohol and manipulating her support circle around her into thinking she was perfectly okay, just a little heartbroken. Demi kept her company during the days when she felt like she couldn't be alone, when her thoughts and darkest hours became too heavy on her chest. But sometimes, it wasn't enough. She needed to forget her pain and her vice quickly became a dangerous game, but Hailey couldn't bring herself to care. 

Until he came along... again. Shawn. Ugh, why was her stomach doing flips at the thought of his name? Knock it off. This was so school-girl like of her, yuck! He bought her to her senses, bought Hailey back to her carefree self when she was absolutely adamant that side was gone to the point of no return. The blonde caught herself checking her phone for his messages several times within an hour or less, craving the positive aura and light he bought back to her. She had a lighter skip in her step, smiled easier, and radiated the energy she lost when she was with Justin. Pulling up to the parking lot of the condo where Demi's studio was, Hailey wanted to surprise Demi with her favorite lunch and spend some time with her best friend. Quickly unlocking the door with the key she had, she heard a gorgeous instrumental and peered up. She had been writing poems for the last few weeks, and for some reason.. Hailey felt super inspired.

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈:  demi needed her outlet, music; she was being drowed by the PR between her and max and it was becoming unbarable now with him in her life. it made her want to drink more than she should because of the stress of having to carry his dead weight around. with all eyes looking in, she needed to escape which is where she found herself at her studio more than usual. jessie was back or well he was around and it made demi on her toes, he was someone she always wanted but lost touch with her husband after she over dosed. she had wrote so many songs during that two year period, about him about them, about being lonely and finding herself again. her fingers knew what she wanted to play, pressing into the white wood and ivory. demi had her foot on the peddle as she was messing around and had at least the first verse down, but she was having trouble coming up with the rest of the song. her eyes trained back and forth on the keys before closing them slowly and letting her hands do the talking for once, letting herself go.

"I'm a mess and i'm still broken..." she sang slowly as she played. "but i'm finding my way back....." her voice wavered off slowly. her foot and her fingers playing at the same time. "and it feels like someone's stolen..." pausing again with a few chords. "all the light i ever had..." it's the same lyrics she was singing the whole three hours trying to to do more than that. opening her eyes she started the chords over as she pressed into them with her note book splayed up on top of the piano, her scribbles of notes filling it with empty lyrics under it.

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘: The blonde could hear Demi's melodious voice break through the silence of the instrumental, pausing to peer into the small room and was greeted by the sight of Demi losing herself to her music. Leaning her head against the doorframe, Hailey watched her brunette powerhouse of a best friend sing, the lyrics hitting her hard. Hailey felt like it was bringing her back to her darkest times, wanting to shed it off but she had no idea how to. She refrained from taking another step, letting Demi fall into her music but as soon as the lyrics flowed, they stopped. 

Watching as Demi replayed the chords, the blonde mustered a small smile and knocked slightly. "Need some help...?" she wondered, walking over and setting the bag down on the small coffee table. Hugging her best friend by wrapping her arms over her shoulders while she remained seated, the model nodded over to the notebook. "What are you writing about?" she asked before finding a seat next to her on the bench.

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈:  replaying them it almost was repetitive for the third hour but she couldn't help it honestly, she wanted to write but all that was coming out was the piano right now. hearing the knocking she looked back to see the blonde and a smile spread across her lips. "very much so..how much did you hear?" asking the woman before she still sat there and placed her hands on the womans arms as she hugged her back. she loved having her best friend around and right now she could definately use her help with all of this. "oh god...my overdose...the PR...how i feel in it.." shaking her head gently as she looked over at the woman. "it's making me want to drink more than i do..max...i just want to make a song that says that at the end of the day i'm here, i'm still me...that those things wont consume me.." saying to the blonde. 

her head looked towards her notebook before she placed her hands on the piano and started to play the chords all over again. "and all i got is the first verse..which i'm sure you heard" demi laughed lightly as she kept playing. looking over to her best friend she bumped her a bit with her arm as she continued to play. "got anything you wanna say?? write it in the book..i'll keep playing if you wanna..help me write the song??"

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘: The lyrics resonated with Hailey, her teeth digging into her bottom lip in concentration. She wondered if the poem she wrote a few months ago after finding Justin with Sofie would match to Demi's overall message, but held back from searching in her notes on her phone. A light chuckle fell from her lips, shaking her head while she sat beside Demi and glanced down at the piano keys before peering up at her again. Resting her chin in the palm of her hand, she listened intently because she couldn't imagine how Demi felt with the stress she had on her shoulders from the PR stunt to dealing with conquering her own demons. If anything, Hailey admired her strength and how she continued to share her truth without being afraid to fight through them. "And you shouldn't let them consume you.." the blonde confirmed, a proud smile spreading over her lips. 

Tilting her head as she remembered the lyrics again, she closed her eyes and nodded when Demi asked for her to help and write the song. "Yeah.. keep playing.. I'm gonna just look through.." she mumbled, picking up her phone to unlock it and scroll through the notes. Tapping on the one she was hunting for, Hailey's fingertips ran over her chin thoughtfully. While the melody played, she hummed along in between the notes. Her eyes looked up at Demi as if to see if she was vibing along and then glanced to the poem on her phone again. "Like the world disappeared... And... I'm laying right here while the silence is piercing," she sang. "And it hurts to breathe..." Pausing, she tilted her head to her best friend as if she had an idea. "I don't have much.. but at least I still... have me?" 

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈: demi smiled at her best friend and nodded to her. "i don't plan on it.." she knew hailey was having a hard time with justin still coming into her life, she wished the man would just leave the woman alone, she deserved to be left alone and left to deal with everything without him trying to come in and trying to fuck her up again, she hated it when she saw hailey broken, it broke her heart because the blonde was so pure and loving and that some monster would do this to her. leaning over she kissed her best friends cheek cutily. nodding as hailey said to keep playing, and she did just that.

her head moved slowly as she hummed along with the chords and hailey combined. hearing hailey singing she smiled listening to the lyrics, they were flowing perfect as she needed hailey in on this song writing and lyrically. her fingers kept playing as she was trying to find the words to match to go right after. humming along slowly. "and that's all i need.." thinking quick she came up with the next. "so take my faith but at least i still believe" she sang hard, feeling it. "i still believe! and that's all i need" demi could feel herself getting emotional because honestly all these lyrics and the poem was hitting her. reaching her high notes just by sitting there and playing. repeating the next lyrics from hailey's poem. "i don't have much.. but at least i have me" her fingers kept playing slowly.

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘: The blonde couldn't help but feel insecure about her words, furrowing her brows. She was only writing her thoughts on paper to get her emotions out, she was nowhere close to a songwriter. Now that she was next to Demi, she anxiously peered from her best friend's facial expressions to the piano keys and then back. She was expecting rejection, until... Demi completely ran with it. Hailey smiled shyly, but then admired the strong lyrics that flowed so beautifully. They were both dealing with struggles, but they were overcoming them together even with writing this song. "Wow.." she chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "I love this.. we need this out there..." she sighed. 

Peering over at the studio equipment, she reached for Demi's Mac and fiddled around Garage Band.. nodding her head in encouragement to Demi as to tell her to continue to play. "Hold on.. let's add this drum beat.." she murmured, knowing a few tricks from Justin's studio sessions. Matching the speed to Demi's piano notes, she couldn't help but smile to herself while repeating the chorus they created. Tapping her best friend's shoulder excitedly, she kept it playing so they could find the perfect verse to add the drum beat. "Everything around me shattered, all the highs are now just low..." If there was anything she despised about Justin, Hailey couldn't break free from him. He wouldn't leave her alone, first he consumed her texts and now, she had to work hard to keep him out of her mind. "But it doesn't even matter, 'cause I'd rather be alone.." she sang.

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈: demi laughed gently as she looked over at her best friend, she needed this. she NEEDED this with hailey. "start writing this all down..oh it's gonna be out there, and you're gonna be on this record with me, god dammit i didn't know you wrote poems.." she was shocked, impressed all about it when all that emotion came out of the phone she had it written in. the brunette knew she needed this song, this is what she was going through, and seeing hailey letting go and singing, she musician knew the model needed this too. "i want you on this, you need to be on this song with me hails, we can get you a writing alias or put your name i just...i need you on this with me, it's our song" saying to her, being completely serious with her. 

seeing the mac being picked up she tilted her head as her hands stilled on the piano. demi watched as hailey nodded to keep going so she started back up again, watching how the blonde knew her way around garage band somewhat, her head nodded saying that she liked the beat along with the piano. "oh yes..okay perfect, i love that" musing. demi hadn't felt this excited about writing with someone else right now and it was thrilling because this was going to be something to them, and she was releasing it no matter what anyone said. not taking no for an answer. listening to the next lyrics hailey was writing now with her voice she was playing and trying to think of the next. the sadness was dripping from hailey's voice as her eyes peered over at her best friend. "all my love disappeared, and i'm laying right here..." taking the part hailey wrote and rewriting the first line of it. "while the silence is piercing and it hurts to breathe" demi kept playing as she looked to the model. "this is fucking me up already" saying with a laugh as she placed her hands over her eyes to clear her head a bit.  pulling her book down she wrote the rest of the chords as she leaned her head onto hailey's shoulder as she did this. they were stronger together.

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘: Looking over at the chords and Demi's lyrics, Hailey began piecing together the song in her notes, smiling as it all came together so quickly. Writing was an outlet for her, but it always took the form of being done in a poem. Maybe they weren't so broken. Maybe Hailey didn't need saving, but she could save herself. She could save herself from traveling down a dark path again if she finally accepted that she needed to close her chapter with Justin. He had no significance to her anymore, much like it was crystal clear that the blonde had no significance or importance to Justin. He could no longer steal the light within her to inflict loneliness and darkness. Hailey owed it to herself to finally say goodbye to him, but now.. it will be on her terms. Singing this song with Demi and writing felt so freeing, which is why she nodded eagerly when her best friend mentioned she needed to be on this. "It's our song.." she repeated, confidently. 

 Watching as Demi sang the next verse, Hailey shot her a playful look as she re-wrote her lyrics but it sounded perfect. Typing it into her phone, she added the chorus afterwards and then peered up with  a chuckle when Demi said it was fucking her up already. Nodding in agreement, Hailey turned to look down at the chords Demi wrote into her notebook. "The notes are beautiful..." she admitted, leaning her head on her best friend's. "Hmm.. do we want the drums? I'm thinking the second verse is too early..." she mused, singing the lyrics to herself. "I do love how the hums sound though.."

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈: at the end of the day, demi had herself and that was the only person who was going to be able to repair herself from the damage of her OD still left, the damage max was doing to her, and she needed to repair what she really wanted was with back with her husband for real this time, not sneaking around anymore, she was tired of that. demi needed to heal before she got into all of it and this song was putting it all out. demi was seeing something new in hailey, seeing a confidence in the woman that she hadn't seen in a while. it was radiant, it was strong too. "this is our anthem and we're not letting anyone bring us down" 

demi just kept playing her piano as she watched hailey write everything into her phone and she laughed with a nod. "yeah?? i've had the chords, but not much after the first verse..i say the drums yet but maybe once the second chorus comes in, like the piano and the hums build it up and then we bring in the drums" saying as she mused to how this track should be mixed. "i can definitely do some runs too for back vocals..so that will go with the drums and the piano.." she let her hands just dance hovering over the keys. "i would like you to sing back on the chorus if you're up for it?"

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋��𝐘: Demi’s struggles were not ones to be taken lightly, Hailey learned that through the nights they spent confiding and having heart to hearts whenever they couldn’t sleep or their minds kept one half of the best friends up. She knew the overdose and recovering from it was a difficult journey but then add the PR? Hailey had no idea how Demi powered through, her strength and perseverance was immaculate. Hailey didn’t back down either, even though she needed time to come back around... she was ready to put more work in to make sure she got whatever she deserved when she worked hard enough. She pondered the idea of adding drums later on, as Demi suggested and agreed. It would build up the song, just like they built themselves up to fight again. 

“I think that’ll work... we can start mixing today.. I don’t have anywhere to be,” Hailey suggested, shrugging her shoulders. Playing a few random keys while they shot ideas back and forth, Hailey was taken aback when Demi asked for her to sing on the backing vocals. “Me...?” she stammered, furrowing her brows in confusion. Was she sure?? “I can... don’t use too much auto tune on me,” she joked.

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈: "yeah no lets get this whole track done, lets work on it all night babes..we can get postmates, i'm not leaving till we're done" demi was serious as she rubbed her best friends back slightly as she nodded, it was set, the two were gonna work on this track together. "yes you, there's no one else here.." demi was positive on all of this as she raised an eyebrow at her. "oh my god, i won't use anything.." she laughed as she told hailey to finish the song and repeat the pre chorus and the chorus to finish off the song. the two ordered postmates and coffee as demi and her started fully mixing to lay down the track first before demi could get into the booth and start singing, then she'd layer hailey in. 

this three hour dry spell quickly became her favorite day as the two best friends worked on this track. demi would release it soon as she kept telling hailey she would, and she always kept her word. getting up as the two of them shared laughs before demi stepped into the booth and placed the headphones over her ears as she had hailey start the button for playback. slowly history between the two was being made and this was demi's favorite song for many reasons than just one. 

[bluebreeyandrabbles]

Molting Season

(Yandere!Hawks (BNHA) x Reader: Part 1)

 Here’s my first story guys! I really hope you all enjoy it! I haven’t gotten any requests yet, so if you do enjoy, please remember to like and reblog, and if you want anything written feel free to send in a request!

You couldn’t believe how hot it was. The bright sun was bearing down on you unrelentingly, showing no mercy as its rays pelted the earth with its harsh, heated light. Part of you just wanted to hurry on home, telling yourself that it’d be better in the long run to get there and sink into the shower, where you could let the cool water run down your back and hide from the heat.

However, another part of you screamed to just find shelter immediately. You wanted to curl up in the comforting embrace of your current best friend- air conditioning. You desperately debated between your current options, but your apartment was still another thirty minutes away.

With a defeated sigh, you retreat into the nearest shop, a soft tinkling filling the air as the soft sound of idle chatter flooded your ears. You let yourself take in your surroundings, the welcoming nature of this small coffee shop instantly bringing your mood up from defeated to relaxed with just a few simple wooded tables and warm atmosphere. It was nice in here, and while you weren’t sure if you would buy anything due to the fact you had to get an uber home in order to even survive the trip, you would definitely return to try one of the items on their menu.

A smiling employee waved to you and gestured for you to sit anywhere you’d like. With a thankful smile, you seated yourself under a fan next to the entrance, enjoying the nice breeze it waved down on you while you ordered your uber.

It said it’d only take a few minutes, so you set your phone down and waited when the door was thrown open. A relatively short man stepped inside, a heavy coat thrown over his shoulders. Was he insane?? It was probably in the hundreds out there! Okay so it definitely wasn’t as people would be dead, but it certainly felt like it to you. You were so concerned about his coat that you stood up and approached him wearily, your voice shaking as you spoke up.

“Um- Excuse me, I know it’s none of my business but how can you wear such a coat when it’s so hot outside? You’ll end up killing yourself…” He paused his steps, and you could swear you saw the coat move.

“Ah, I guess it is a bit weird, yeah? Nothing I can’t handle though.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his blonde, unkempt shaggy hair while he turned to face you. Two brown eyes met your own, and you could’ve sworn he looked… Familiar, but something was missing. “Is something wrong? Do I have something interesting on my face?”

“Yeah, it’s called a goggle tan. Or a glasses tan, I can’t really tell which.” He lifted a hand to his face, running his fingers over the lighter area around his eyes before chuckling.

“Funny, real funny.” He retorted, a grin on his carefree face. You looked over at your table for a moment and hummed. You know you just met him, but he seemed nice enough, and it’d only be a few minutes… He could have your table after you left!

“Hey, I’m about to leave, do you want to sit with me at my table for the next few minutes until my uber gets here?” The man arched an eyebrow at the offer, taking a moment to look you up and down before shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m down, just let me order a milkshake or frappé; something to cool me down, you know?” you immediately nodded in understanding before returning to your seat. It was the middle of Summer, and he -was- wearing that coat, the guy probably lived off those things for all you knew.

You tapped your fingers against the wooden surface, your legs swinging underneath the table. The man moved to sit with you, grinning ear to ear as he turned the seat and sat in the chair backwards. “So, tell me about yourself doll.”

You choked on your intake of air at the pet-name, your eyes immediately flying to his own to see the amused glint. “D-“ You coughed, slamming a hand down on your chest to force the air out of your throat. “Don’t call me that, we just met. You don’t even know my name.”

“Ah, right. I guess I should ask for that first?” He hummed, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. “What’s your name, then?”

“It’s (Y/N).” You simply replied, checking your phone to see if the Uber was here yet. No reply… They were running late. “What about you?”

“My name? ….” This made him hesitate, his eyes darting down as he twiddled his thumbs. “….Take a guess and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

“Eh?? That’s not how this works!” You immediately protested, slamming your hands down on the table. He chuckled, before rising to his feet, his drink in his hand.

“Well (Y/N), it was nice meeting you… But I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ve got a very important job to do, you know. Super important. As for you…” He glanced out the window as a car with an Uber sticker pulled up, and your phone vibrated. Damn him, he lucked out. “Until we meet again!” He said with a careless wave, striding out the door. The bell tinkled, and you could only watch as he disappeared, your hands balled into fists.

You couldn’t believe you just gave a stranger your name like that- how stupid… Then he bragged about his ‘really important job’, you bet he was just trying to show off! What an asshole! You hoped his final sentence couldn’t be farther from the truth. You -never- wanted to see him again.

Grinding your teeth, you started for the door only for something crimson to catch your eye that rested on the ground. “Hm? That wasn’t there before…”

Bending down, you carefully picked it up. It was a large, red feather, only strengthening your confusion. “Did… He drop this?” You turned your head back toward the door, suspicion lacing your gaze. You had a feeling you knew -exactly- who that man was. With an uneasy feeling flooding your heart, you headed out to meet your Uber and finally head home for the day.

Hawks’ heart pounded in his chest as he made his escape from the coffee shop, carelessly trailing behind his molting feathers without a care in the world. “Damn it…” He whispered, turning into an alley. He couldn’t believe it… He actually talked to you… He could smell the sweet scent of strawberries that seemed to follow you everywhere you went. He wanted to spend more time with you, to grab you and never let you go, but he was afraid if he did then you’d never want to see him again… He couldn’t have that.

No, he had to pace himself for now. He’d been following you for months, and now it was almost time. Today had been a fluke; he had never meant for you two to actually meet face-to-face until the moment he confessed, but this was fine too. Perhaps you had fallen in love at first sight, just as he had? Yes, that had to be it! You were just as in love with him as he was with you, and that was why you cared so much about him when he entered the coffee shop!

Hawks felt a smile slip onto his face, a soft blush overtaking his cheeks at the mere thought of you returning his feelings. If that was the case, who was he to keep you waiting? He’d finish up his patrol and go meet you at your house right away! Of course… You’d have to be asleep first. When he took you to your new home it had to be a surprise! He was sure you’d love it- it had everything he knew you’d love. He had studied you ever since he first laid eyes on you just to make sure every little detail would be right, from the wall color to the bedding.

He stripped off the heavy jacket, and stuffed it into a trashcan, stretching out his feathers as they ached. God, he hated molting season- Many feathers fell, his usually striking wings looking ruffled and frazzled. “At least they’re still functional.” He grumbled, stroking one of his wings before taking one of the fallen feathers. “And it helps with my attacks… So I shouldn’t be complainin’ too much. Now then…. (Y/N), get ready, because tonight is the night we shall be together, my love….”

[amaviarra]

Broken

⚠ : Angst, violence, mentions of rape, cussing.

A/N: This was going to be a one shot, but i don't want to make it super long so it'll probably be a 2 or 3 shot. Sorry it's so angsty that seems to be my mood currently. But it will get better and lighter. also sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I'll try and write more tonight so next update should be either tonight, tomorrow or next weekend 😅

-----------

Y/N had been having a good night. Fangs had invitied her out to the whyte wyrm to play some pool and she could never turn down her friend. So they came to what was basically their second home.

Just the two of them. Toni was out with Cheryl, probably getting ready for the pool party they were planning for tomorrow. Jughead was somewhere with Betty, probably sticking their noses where they didn't belong and Sweetpea well, she didn't know where he was. He had been MIA and hard to contact all summer.

Which left her and Fangs to entertain each other. Which she didn't mind, he was one of her closest friends and a riot. What she didn't like though was losing to him. Which she just did, for the second time that night.

Y/N watched as Fangs over enthusastically boasted about winning. "Okay, okay Fangs chill." Putting her pool stick to the side she sighed and motioned toward the hallway to the side "I'm going to the bathroom, why don't you grab us some snacks and a drink while I'm gone"

Fangs gave her a cheeky smile and a mock salute before putting his own pool stick away and made his way to the bar. Y/N shook her head in amusement and started making her way to the bathroom.

That's when her night went bad. It wasn't uncommon to see couples getting hot and heavy in the hallways, heck even sometimes in the bathrooms, at the whyte wyrm. But what made her heart drop into her stomach was who she saw swapping saliva in the hallway.

Sweetpea and Josie.

Y/N stilled when she saw them in a close embrace. She shouldn't feel this way. Sweetpea wasn't hers, by any means. Sure they had a friends with benefits thing going on, but that had ended weeks ago and they had gone back to just being friends.

Y/N guessed it had to do with Josie and him. Straighting her posture she decided to continue to her original destination. Eyes forward she started walking to the bathroom.

She was almost at the door when she stopped at the call of her name, groaning internally she smiled as she turned to face Sweetpea. "Hey Pea"

He smiled in return, his arms still wrapped around Josie who at the moment didn't look to pleased. "Hey Y/N! What are you doing here?"

Y/N rose a brow and chuckled as she motioned toward the bathroom "Just taking care of something. I'm here with Fangs he should be at the bar if you want to say hi."

Sweetpea nodded but didn't say more as Josie worked on getting his attention back on her.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N turned back around and made her way into the bathroom. Once she was in and the door was securely closed she let her smile drop as she looked in the mirror. Suddenly feeling like complete crap.

As she looked over her features her frown deepend and her mind raced. It was no wonder Sweetpea would choose someone like Josie over someone like herself. Josie was fit, beautiful. She had an amazing voice and skin without blemishes.

Meanwhile she, well she had blemishes. A lot of them. She had extra weight on her too.

Usually it didn't bother her, she didn't let it. But her mind wasn't letting her escape today. No one would ever want her, at least not the one she wanted.

Sighing she shook her head. She didn't feel like being here anymore. She'd wait awhile and then sneak out. She'll text Fangs once she was home. Turning around she went into one of the stalls. Ready to bid some time and hope that they were out of the hallway so she could sneak away.

-------

Getting out was easier then she thought it would be. She had waited 10 minutes and then checked the hall, which was thankfully empty.

She moved quickly and paused as she came to the main area of the whyte wyrm. Glancing to the bar she was relieved to see Fangs was talking to Sweetpea, Josie and some other serpents.

Quickly grabbing her stuff she made a dash for the door. Thankful that she had a small presence despite her size.

Unfortunately for her she had gotten a ride here from Fangs. Which meant she'd have to walk home.

Grumbling slightly at the thought she started in the direction of the trailer park that held her home.

She was half way there when she started to regret her decision. It was well past midnight now. She was very tempted to call Fangs and ask him to pick her up. But she was too stubborn to do that.

Still big girl or not, she knew that walking at night alone on the south side was dangerous.

She clenched her jaw as a car sped past her. Please keep going, please keep going she thought as she watched the car with narrowed eyes. It wasn't one she recognized which meant it was either someone traveling through town or it belonged to a ghoulie. She really hoped it was the someone passing through town.

Her eyes widened, alarmed, as the car came to a sudden stop shortly after passing her. She cringed as the tires squealed and it backed up to stop beside her.

Fuck. Ghoulies.

"Hey fatty what are you doing out here alone?" The one in the passenger seat spoke.

She frowned, her hands becoming fists at her side she narrowed her eyes at them. "Leave me be"

Stiffening her posture, head held high she began to walk away. In the direction of her home, she ignored their taunts as they slowly followed her.

She hoped that they would get bored and leave. Her heart began to speed up when she heard the car stop followed with doors opening and shutting.

"Stop and chat with us serpent whore. Let's have some fun"

She ignored him and sped up. Soon breaking into a full run. No way she could fight them all.

It was no use though, a hand wrapped around her arm and jerked her back. She was now face to face with four ghoulies.

Squaring herself up, she got in a defensive position as they rose their weapons, all four of them had identical sickening smirks on their faces.

She'd be damned if she went down without a fight.

-----------

Sweetpea frowned at his phone. He hadn't heard from Y/N for awhile. Weeks. No one had.

Sometimes she did this. So it shouldn't worry him. She would leave for weeks at a time suddenly and without warning.

But the thing that was different this time was that she hadn't contacted anyone. She never did that. She would at least send someone a quick message to check in.

Bringing up her name he pressed on the call option and brought it up to his ear. His frown deepend when it went straight to voicemail.

"What's up Pea?"

Sweetpea looked up as the other members of the gang entered the room. He put his phone down and sighed "Just tried Y/N. She still isn't picking up, it's just going to voicemail now"

Jughead frowned "That is concerning, but right now we need to get our head in the game. We are about to raid the ghoulies hideout so we all need to be focused. We will look into finding Y/N after."

Sweetpea stiffened, Y/N was important...to the serpents. She should be top priority. He huffed, Jughead didn't change his mind once it was made up. "Fine..." He grumbled. Maybe beating some ghoulies would help with the restlessness he was feeling.

---------

Y/N groaned as she tried to open her eyes. She couldn't. Where was She? Ah yeah. The ghoulies had taken her that night. They out did her in strength and brought her to their hideout.

They had wanted information, their new leader was even worse then the last. When she didn't give them what they wanted they beat her. They...did even worse then that.

She shivered, her whole body screaming at the action. Ecspecially her wrist that was tightly cuffed to something above her.

She was pretty sure that this time she was going to die. When was the last time she had eaten? She hurt so bad, everywhere. She was also sure that she had lost a good amount of blood with how often she fainted and how weak she felt.

She stiffened as she heard the door slam open and the heavy multiple footsteps that followed.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasnt the panicked call of her name before she blacked out once more.

---------

Sweetpea was mad, no actually he was beyond mad he was downright pissed. If he could he would go back to that ghoulie hide out and get all the little fucks he could find and kill them.

His jaw clenched so tightly he was sure he almost broke a tooth. He couldn't go though.

His gaze drifted toward you, resting in the bed of the hospital. Multiple machines hooked up to you.

He wouldn't leave you.

His heart broke at the sight of you. It was hard on him to see you so....fragile.

You were such a spitfire. So strong and independent. Seeing you in the ghoulies hide out, hadncuffed to a pipe. Beaten, bruised, swollen and bloody and then learning what exactly they had done to you.

It hurt him and made his blood boil. He took your hand in his, holding it gently taking caution of the wires. He enclosed it in both his hands. He should have stopped you that night at whyte wyrm.

He had seen you sneak out. He had thought to go after you, Stop you. But then he figured you had just reached your socializing limit.

Plus he had been a bit....distracted.

He leaned back in the chair, still holding onto your hand and watching you closely.

"Please Y/N, please wake up".

[sendspoodsnotnoods]

Tarantula Care basics:

I've gotten tired of typing out "beginner tips" when people ask for them in Facebook groups, so I'm posting this as a resource to anyone who wants to get a tarantula but needs a place to start with researching. Please research elsewhere as well and be aware that there are many people who are successful at keeping tarantulas that may disagree on certain husbandry topics. This information is based off of the research I've done and how I care for my tarantulas. I may not be an expert with decades of experience, but I am a science minded individual who did a lot of research before getting my first tarantula and who has continued to learn each day I keep these beautiful animals as pets.

Temperatures-

No heat lamp, no heat pad. Fine at normal room temperature. If you're not cold neither is your tarantula. If your house is kinda cold get a space heater for the room you keep your tarantula in. Between 60-80F is fine for most tarantulas. Slightly below or slightly higher won't likely hurt them. If your house regularly goes below 60F then consider getting a space heater.

Enclosures-

Don't buy an enclosure until you know the size of the tarantula youre getting. You could be investing in a huge tank when all you're going to need for the next 5 years is a Tupperware or critter keeper. Give your tarantula at least 2x their legspan in all demensions of the enclosure. So a 2in. legspan tarantula needs at least a 4x4in enclosure minimum. Too large an enclosure may mean you struggle to find your tarantula or that your tarantula has a higher risk of falling and getting hurt. You can be generous with space without going overboard. For example a 3wx4Lx2h in. display case is a bit large for a 3/4 in. sling however it's much more appropriate than putting a tiny sling in a huge enclosure. Small slings are often kept in 4oz or 6oz deli cups and that is completely fine for a few months. Remember that you don't have to spend big bucks on glass enclosures. Often acrylic and plastic is more ideal for providing proper ventilation anyways. Explore stores like the Container Store for ideas. You can use anything from display cases to clear shoe boxes. Invest in a drill and get some 1/16th inch drill bits (that's what i use on sling enclosures, you can use a larger bit for bigger spiders).

You should know whether or not your tarantula is terrestrial (lives on or near the ground), arboreal (lives in trees), or fossorial (lives primarily underground). I won't discuss fossorials in depth in this post because I don't have any first hand experience, however the biggest difference between fossorial and terrestrial is you need to give them A LOT of substrate. Get them a tall enclosure and fill it most of the way with substrate. Most "beginner species" aren't fossorials so it's unlikely you'll be getting one soon unless you get an Aphomapelma seemanni. Tom Moran has a husbandry video on Aphonopelma seemanni if that's the species you're interested in getting.

Terrestrials should have at least enough substrate to burrow if they choose, so at least one leg span if possible. Do not give a terrestrial more than 2x their legspan between the surface of the substrate and the lid of their enclosure. They have very fragile abdomens and can die if they fall from even small heights. A terrestrial enclosure should be wider/longer than it is high.

Arboreals need an enclosure that is taller than it is wide. I like the AMAC boxes sold at the Container Store for slings, however other options include clear pill jars, plastic jars, and file boxes. Be creative. There are also glass exoterra enclosures that people like, however I personally don't like them because they don't give you enough cross ventilation and tarantulas can get their feet caught on the mesh/screen lids. I prefer something with cross ventilation (something where i can add a bunch of holes in the sides). Arboreals don't need that much substrate. Just provide enough to cover the bottom of the enclosure, help keep anything that you may place on the bottom of the enclosure in place, and absorb moisture.

Water and moisture-

You'll see some care sheets say that certain genera and species such as "Theraposa stirmi" (which I would not recommend for a beginner) need "high humidity". What they really need is wet substrate. "High humidity" species need their substrate to be soaked down more frequently or more generously. Many "beginner" terrestrial species are arid species (they live in drier climates). Nearly all Brachypelma, Grammostola, and Aphomapelma can be kept in the same type of enclosures. Give them dry substrate and a water dish, and overflow the dish a little when you fill it. Do not put rocks or a sponge in the dish. Tarantulas cannot drink from a sponge and rocks and gravel simply provide more surface area for mold to grow.

Small slings do not necessarily need a water dish. While they are small tarantulas lack the waxy curticle on their exoskeletons that keeps water in. Because they lack the cuticle they can get moisture from their substrate. Keep generally all terrestrial slings an moderately damp substrate and watch for mold growth.

Substrate-

There are a number of popular options including ecoearth (or another brand of coconut fiber substrate) and organic potting soil. Some people mix vermiculite in with their substrate but vermiculite shouldn't be used alone as a substrate. If you use potting soil ensure it's only soil and doesn't have added fertilizer or chemicals. Topsoil is heavy so doesnt need to be packed down. If you choose ecoearth or coconut fiber, it comes often in dense bricks. Add water to these bricks and pull them apart. You may need to do this ahead of time so you can let the coconut fiber dry off before you assemble the enclosure. Coconut fiber is loose and fluffy when you put it in the enclosure. Pat it down firmly with your hands otherwise the tarantula won't like walking on the substrate. Coconut fiber, topsoil, or specially designed tarantula substrates are all acceptable. Substrates NOT to use: sand, aquarium gravel, woodchips, mulch, pure vermiculite. The goal with a substrate is to provide a maxtrix that the tarantula won't mind walking on that will hold moisture and hold the shape of their burrows.

Tank accessories-

Hides- The most important accessory besides a water dish (which I recommend for all tarantulas besides tiny slings) for a terrestrial tarantula is a hide. This can be a plastic hide bought from a pet store, a piece of corkbark, flat or curved driftwood, a broken flower pot, or half a cup. Be creative. They can be as cheap as you want. Just be sure there aren't any super sharp edges. In a pinch you can make a hide from a plastic soda bottle. Cut out a portion of it and CAREFULLY use a lighter to curve the piece of plastic and melt the edges so that's theyre not sharp. I have used this technique a number of times. These hides then should be partially buried so that they are dark inside, but the opening is visible so they tarantula can use it as a starter burrow. Cork bark is very popular for hides and can be bought from a pet store or online. A variety of other hides can also be bought from pet stores. Anything that's half a cylinder and open on both sides will function well as a hide for your tarantula. A hide can be skipped with super small slings but should be provided once the enclosure is large enough. For slings I've used short parts of powdered drink tubes that I bury with one end exposed on the surface. You'd be amazed what junk you can cut up and use in an enclosure.

Tall anchor points- for arboreal tarantulas they need something that reaches close to the top of their enclosure so they have something that they can climb and use to anchor webbing. This can be a piece of corkbark on end, a pcv pipe, a log, silk plants, or anything! Corkbark and silk plants are the popular choices but you can use a 2x4 (nontreated wood) and paint sticks if you feel so inclined.

Low anchor points- all tarantulas can web, although some will do so more than others. A number of species, especially the popular "green bottle blue" are heavy webbers and should be provided with some anchor points even though they're terrestrial (even though some may argue sort of otherwise). These anchor points can simply be fake plants or something. Protip: fishtank plants are cheaper than terrarium plants and work just as well. Even cheaper are silk plants from craft stores. Just rinse and pat dry any tank accessories to remove dust from the store just in case. All tarantulas can benefit from some anchor points in their enclosures. Also adding a silk plant or two looks nice.

Food-

A tarantula can be fed practically any sort of feeder insect from meal worms to roaches to crickets. Meal worms, superworms, and dubia roaches will burrow if you let them, so before offering them to your tarantula you should pinch the feeder's head so that it is disabled but not entirely dead. Crickets are fine but can bite, so don't leave them unattended with a tarantula. Red runners (B. lateralis) are good but beware that they can infest your home if they escape, so use caution. Hornworms can make an occasional nutrional treat, however only use store bought worms. If hornworms have eaten tomato plants it can make them toxic to anything that eats them. On that note: NEVER feed wild caught prey of any kind. Wild caught feeders may carry parasites such as nematodes that can be passed to your tarantula and may eventually kill them. Purchase feeders from a pet store, online supplier, local breeders (some people will breed colonies of feeders), or from vendors at an expo.

Feed your tarantula a prey item around the size of their abdomen once every week or two if they will eat. If you don't have larger prey items you can feed them a couple at once. If they stop eating do not be alarmed, they might just be full, or they may be in premolt. Some species can fast for up to a year, so you tarantula is not going to die from self inflicted starvation. If it wants to eat it will. If it's not eating then remove the prey and try again in a week or two. If your tarantula is really fat, perhaps just wait to try feeding until it gets skinnier or molts.

Molting-

Tarantulas have an exoskeleton which does not grow with them. Because of that, like all arthropods they will molt, where they shed their old exoskeleton. They will likely stop eating. Premolt, or the period where they may stop eating and perhaps become more elusive or even close themselve off in their burrow, may last anywhere from a week to months, to a year in severe cases. Sometimes they will get duller in color during premolt, their abdomens may get black and shiny, and they may lose hair on their abdomens. If they refuse food and/or seal off the entrance to their burrrow, then leave them be, continue to fill their water dish, and wait to offer food again until they start wandering around their enclosure again.

When a tarantula molts it usually flips over on it's back. DO NOT TOUCH IT. They are very fragile during and after a molt. A molt can take anywhere from half an hour to 8 hours depending on the size of the tarantula. Do not intervene, just make sure they have water and leave them alone. After they have left their old exoskeleton they will be very vulnerable. The new exoskeleton is very soft and takes awhile to harden. Wait 1-2 weeks before you feed them. Best to go on the side of caution and wait 2 weeks if you're in doubt. What's important here is you wait until their new fangs have fully hardened and turned shiny and dark black. After 2 weeks it should be safe to feed. Remember, your tarantula is fine going awhile without eating, waiting an extra week or two isn't neglectful. Just keep its water dish filled and it will be ok.

Useful tools-

Feeding tongs: a must have. They can be purchased at a pet store or online. You'll need them for feeding and for removing things from the enclosure.

Paintbrush or makeup brush: a soft and clean paintbrush or makeup brush can be used to gently touch the back legs of a tarantula and coax it where you need it to go.

Plastic straw: just rinse and save one after a trip to a fast food place. Used for the same use as the paintbrush, but more useful if you have a tarantula that tries to bite (a plastic straw will not hurt their fangs if they bite it)

Wooden chopsticks: I don't see this on many lists but I've found chopsticks can be useful for pushing prey around if they're "playing dead" or for cleaning an enclosure (once again the wood is safer for fangs than metal tongs, however still attempt to avoid having your tarantula bite the chopsticks).

Plastic spoon: i guess it doesnt have to be plastic but thats what i use. Just keep one around. Its good for packing down substrate in enclosures that are too small to reach your hands into, and for digging starter burrows when assembling an enclosure.

Spray bottle: get a clean plastic water bottle for filling water dishes, misting, and wetting substrate. You can buy an empty spray bottle with an adjustable stream from Walmart for a dollar or two. Look near the household cleaning supplies.

Catch cups: collect a variety of clear or translucent plastic cups and bowls that you can poke air holes in. Always have a few catch cups and some flat pieces of cardboard that can cover them around when you open an enclosure. Should a tarantula escape, wait for it to stop moving, place the cup over it, and gently slide cardboard underneath. I bought a pack of clear solo cups a year ago and those are what I most commonly use. Empty containers from shredded cheese work well too and keep those lids in case you want to use them as sling enclosures later on.

Pocket knife: not everyone does this, but I have one old pocket knife that is my feeder insect knife. Sometimes you need to cut mealworms in half for smaller slings, that is the knife I use. Afterwards I wipe the blade off and close it and keep it with the rest of my tarantula tools.

You will discover what tools you find work for you after you have been caring for a tarantula for awhile. At the bare minimum get feeding tongs, a plastic straw, and some catch cups.

Conclusions, disclaimers, and further reading:

This guide is from my personal experience and research, however my opinions may vary from those of other keepers and hobbyists. This advice is based off of the care I provide for my tarantulas however you may find different care works better for you. I highly recommend you read through Tom Moran's beginner guides https://tomsbigspiders.com/beginner-guides/

Browse the forums on arachnoboards. There are many good youtube channels out there as well but some are more informative than others. I highly recommend Tom Moran for husbandry information. He may not be the most exciting and attention grabbing channel, but he has the most comprehensive and well phrased husbandry information than any other single person I've come across.

Each individual species is different and you should research the care and temperment of your particular species, but I encourage you not to trust traditional "care sheets" as many are misleading. I recommend using Tom Moran's content as a resource and asking questions on arachnoboards and other forums if you have further questions. Good luck and welcome to the hobby!

[rikotin]

Fictober 2019 - Prompt #29 "I'm doing this for you. "

Title: I’m No Chef But I Tried It For Love Fandom & characters: DRUCK – Matteo Florenzi / David Schreibner Words: 2886 Notes: at the end of the prompt. Summary: Though he’s kind of suffering from its consequences, no amount of botched-up soup can taint Matteo’s love for him.

Read on AO3

______________________________________

“Absolutely not.”

Matteo had buried himself under three thick covers, only a tuft of hair peeking out from his cocoon. His voice was muffled by the stack of covers resting on him, but even more so by the dreadful cold he had caught a few days ago, leaving him feverish, snotty, and incredibly pissed off.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” David grumbled at the comically large pile that consisted of Matteo and his comforters, and crossed his arms over his chest. It had been going on for at least ten minutes now, this battle of wills, and he was starting to lose his patience. For a person who had been practically bedridden for four days, Matteo had a surprising amount of persistence.

“You need to eat,” David said, his voice a little louder, a little more demanding. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the reaction he’d hoped for, and as there was no response nor movement under the covers, he sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really wanted Matteo to get better, but now that his fever had finally gone down from “alarming” to “still worrying but probably okay”, he had gained enough energy to complain and sulk – and apparently sabotage his own recovery.

“Matteo, I’m serious! The soup, now,” David gritted through his teeth and, as a last resort, grabbed the covers, giving them a firm tug. He was rewarded with a startled yelp from Matteo as the covers slid down enough for his face to emerge from the blanket nest.

“I’m doing this for you,” David continued insisting, trying to tug at the blankets again, but Matteo got a hold of them fast enough to stop them from slipping down any further.

“Don’t want it,” he scowled at David, pursing his mouth in a thin line, and tried to get the covers back so he could wrap himself tighter in their warmth, but David’s tight grip didn’t give in. Matteo let out a long and frustrated whine. He was aching all over and couldn’t breathe through his left nostril. Earlier in the day, he had sneezed so hard he saw stars for a moment, contemplating if he might actually faint from the vertigo it had caused. Surely, he thought, David would have mercy on him, but no such luck: David simply lifted his brows, looking entirely unamused.

Matteo stared straight back at him, coughing pointedly, and mustered up the best puppy eyes he could manage, given his snotty state, but – if he couldn’t make David give in, at least he could try to gain some sympathy for his misery.

David let out a deep sigh, clearly not in the mood for Matteo’s antics anymore, and pulled the duvets again with more force this time, making Matteo grip them as hard as he could, leaning back against the drag.

“You’ve been eating it for two days, I think you’ll manage,” David pointed, and released his hold of the covers abruptly. Matteo, not prepared for the sudden lack of pull, shrieked and fell on his back, giving David a chance to steal the duvets away from him. Matteo flapped his arms around weakly, trying to grab at them, but his flu-induced sluggishness made him way too slow for David’s reflexes.

David quickly crawled onto the bed and flopped himself on his stomach to press onto the pile of covers to keep them to himself, swatting away Matteo’s grabby hands, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face.

“I win.”

Matteo made a protesting sound, staring at David with a betrayed expression. He pouted his lips, trying to will David to hand over the covers with his angry stare, but knew the battle was already lost. Matteo shuddered and let out a frustrated sigh, running his hands through his tangled hair and tugging it slightly.

Matteo absolutely hated getting sick, but most of all, he hated having a fever. It made him feel cold, as well as feeling weak and disoriented, and he’d lack the energy to do absolutely anything but lay down completely still and hope the covers were enough to rub away the cold sweat running down his back.

He had tried to get through it on his own several times. However, his complete inability to do anything but sleep after coming down with a fever didn’t exactly mix well with the acute need of drinking lots of water and eating regularly that were quite essential for getting better, and – obviously – living. So, when he had eventually swallowed his pride to ask for help, someone had always been there to take care of him until he was able to stand at least 5 minutes straight. Back in the days it had been Jonas or Hanna, and after his move to the flat share, it had mostly been Hans, with some assistance from Linn when needed. Now, though, it was always David.

David, whom Matteo loved dearly and who was nothing but a sweetheart when nursing Matteo back to health. He just couldn’t cook to save his life.

“Fine.” Matteo threw his hands in the air in defeated manner and dropped them on his sides, the hands landing on the bed with a silent thud. “The truth is your soup sucks,” he admitted silently, bringing his arms back down and wrapping them around himself to try and ease off the shudders that were going through him like waves. All the while he kept glancing longingly at the duvets David had brutally confiscated from him. A thought crossed his mind to try and pull at them from a different angle, causing David to roll down the bed. That would serve him right for leaving Matteo to freeze.

David gaped at Matteo, taken aback by the sudden proclamation. David felt like he was a fish on dry land, as he tried to find his words, opening and closing his mouth without anything coming out.

“What?” he finally managed, still completely baffled by Matteo’s statement. It had to be a joke, was the first thought that came to David’s mind. Matteo had already eaten the soup for a couple of times and now he was suddenly saying it was awful? Sure, David had gone to the lectures of his classes during the days, but had made Hans to promise he’d pour the liquid down Matteo’s throat if that was what it took to make him eat something – and as far as David was aware, no such force had been needed.

Matteo grimaced, looking guilty over blurting out what he just had, and brought another one of his hands up to fiddle with his blond mess of a hair again, eyeing David remorsefully. He looked kind of small, when he did that, sniffling quietly, and the soft part of David kind of wanted to give him the world right then and there. The thought was short-lived, however, since the sensible part of him was mildly offended by having his cooking insulted.

“You know I appreciate your help a lot, and I’m super grateful for it, but– ” Matteo said, his hoarse voice catching in his throat and making him cough again. “But really – and I say this my Italian ass being completely, utterly in love with you – you can’t cook for shit.”

“What?!” David exclaimed in protest, “I don’t– of course I can! Besides, you’ve been eating the damn soup for days, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Didn’t want to offend you,” Matteo muttered, “and like, it’s totally cool to believe in your skills but you can’t seriously say you think it’s good.” The soup tasted, in fact, so foul it was a miracle Matteo was able to keep it down, but Hans’ could be very persuading and really, quite scary, when he was set on taking care of someone.

“But I followed the recipe,” David mumbled mostly to himself, frowning and trying to think through his process of making the soup. He was certain he had followed it precisely and checked all the amounts for the ingredients. There should be no reason for it to be that bad.

“I’m sure you did,” Matteo assured, “but did you ever taste it yourself?”

Silence fell heavy over them. He might or might not have forgotten that part, despite Matteo giving him several lectures of the “importance of tasting everything you put in your pot” and “knowing what you’re making”. He’d been in such a hurry he had simply fixed the soup as fast as possible and bolted out the door. During the days he had had lunch at the place he had happened to be at, so that meant he’d only had something lighter when coming back to look after Matteo.

David averted his gaze, looking a bit guilty, and Matteo let out a snort that made him spur into a coughing fit. David rolled over and sat up, being on Matteo’s side in an instant and brought his hand up to gently pat and stroke his back to help ease the coughs.

“You’re– whoa, dizzy,” Matteo cut off his sentence, his breathing still a little ragged by the hacking coughs, and pressed a palm on his forehead. He leaned lightly to David’s touch, and shook his head, taking a deep breath. “Ugh, okay, what was I– ah, yeah, if you still insist it’s fine after tasting it, I’ll eat it.”

David was still stroking his back in comforting circular motions, and hummed in agreement.

“Fine, I’ll taste it,” he sighed, trying to ignore the slight uncertainty that had made its way into his voice. You see, when he said he could cook he might’ve exaggerated a little bit. He was able to make sandwiches and even put together a sauce with potatoes that would keep him alive for a couple of days. What he couldn’t do, was to make anything off the top of his head or tell if a recipe was bad. He also had zero understanding of measurements, so if there was a typing error in the recipe, there was no way he’d be able to tell before tasting the end product.

He had had a phase when he had baked a lot at home, testing out the theory of it helping to release stress. That’s how he’d stumbled across an easy-sounding muffin recipe, and decided to give it a shot. It had said to add 10 teaspoons of salt, which made him pause in confusion for a moment, but seeing the recipe also had 2dl of sugar, he had simply thought it would balance it out and dumped the amount of salt into the mix without too much consideration. When David had brought the cookies to Matteo and Laura with a horrified expression on his face, they had laughed so hard they had been gasping for air for several minutes straight. Needless to say, he had dropped baking after the incident, and now he was not entirely sure what he was signing up for by agreeing to the taste the soup he’d have no one but himself to blame for. But if was going to make Matteo convinced to eat something, he’d take the chance.

David got out of bed to move to the kitchen, Matteo being absolutely no help by acting like a limp noodle for the hell of it, when David tried to drag him up to join him. David managed to get him on his feet after some manoeuvring, only to spot him shivering pitifully.

“Ugh,” Matteo moaned, sniffing again, and rubbed his eyes. Despite all the snot and whining, David couldn’t help the fondness towards him that blossomed in his chest at the sight. He huffed, giving Matteo a small smile and tried to tame down the worry that gnawed at him. He knew, logically, that Matteo was going to be just fine – his colds just tended to be long-lasting and fierce, which really wasn’t ideal.

David scanned the room, his eyes landing on a piece of clothing discarded on the floor, and picked up what appeared to be his hoodie, and throw it around Matteo. Matteo hummed appreciatively, zipping it all the way up to his chin and buried his nose to the collar of the shirt, inhaling deeply.

The jacket was so warm, and it smelled like David. He couldn’t really think of anything better at the moment – except David himself, of course, being warm and smelling like, well, David.

They both padded their way to the kitchen, Matteo dropping himself on the closest chair on sight as David pulled the container full of soup out of the fridge. He made a point of pouring every last drop of it into a deep bowl, looking over to Matteo who simply raised his eyebrows but made no comment on it.

The low hum of the microwave filled the room, and while waiting for the soup to warm up, David made his way to Matteo, gently wrapped his arms around his shoulders, and bent down to press a tender kiss on his head. Matteo’s hair was slightly damp and he basically radiated heat all the while shivering slightly. A dead giveaway of his temperature rising again.

“How are you feeling?” David asked softly, as Matteo leaned into his abdomen, nuzzling his face into David’s sweater, trying to leech any warmth he could possibly get to fight off the cold shivers running up and down his spine.

“Still awful,” Matteo mumbled into David’s shirt, his shoulders slouching a little bit, “and cold.”

David cursed silently, bringing his hand to stroke Matteo’s hair. It would probably take another few days for whatever virus he had caught to die down, but his fever was what made David worry. Now that the temperature wasn’t skyrocketing anymore and medicine could get rid of the rest, it didn’t cause him to lose his sleep over it. Matteo was a grown-up, after all, so a flu like this would hardly do any damage.

David placed another kiss on Matteo’s head before making a short trip to the bathroom, digging out their painkillers from the sink cabinet and returning to the kitchen.

“You should take another one, it seems like your fever is acting up again,” he explained, placing the box of ibuprofen in front of Matteo and turning to fetch him a glass of water. Just as he brought the glass to the table– which Matteo accepted with no complaints, one of the fever-reducing pills already in his other hand – the microwave dinged and David went to pull out a steaming plate. The bowl was sort of hot to the touch, but with hurried movements, David managed to carry it over to the table, then grabbed two spoons before sitting down on the chair next to Matteo. Matteo had completely downed the glass of water and was now eyeing the sort of greenish-yellow liquid, scrunching up his nose disapprovingly.

“What was it even supposed to be,” he muttered, frowning like the mere sight of the soup was causing him pain.

“Cauliflower and spinach with some chicken,” David replied, trying to come off as nonchalant, grabbing a spoon and handing the other one to his still scowling boyfriend.

“We had a deal,” Matteo reminded, taking the spoon handed to him and pointing it back to David. “You go first.”

David rolled his eyes, then dropped his gaze to the contents of the bowl and swallowed. He breathed in, and immediately jerked the back of his hand on his mouth, wrinkling his nose. He tried to play it down as if he simply brought his hand up to sweep his nose quickly, but it was very obvious the stench of the soup had been everything but appealing. Matteo thanked his luck he was currently unable to smell anything – who would’ve guessed a stuffy nose would actually have some upsides as well.

The pieces of chicken floating around the bowl looked like something not really suitable to eat, and for a second Matteo suspect David wouldn’t follow through with the deal. David was, however, very competitive at heart, and with a deep breath, he took a spoonful of the mixture, blew on it to get it to cool down some, and stuck it into his mouth in one steady swoop.

Matteo burst out laughing after David very visibly cringed immediately after, struggling to swallow the soup. He was never going to hear the end of this.

“How the fuck can you make a sandwich with pickled cucumber and whipped cream taste good, while I can’t even manage a simple soup with a recipe under my nose,” David moaned, throwing his spoon on the table and swatting at his cackling boyfriend. “Don’t you dare to laugh! My pride has suffered enough.”

Matteo didn’t say anything, managing to tone down his laughter into a shit-eating grin as he pushed the soup bowl further towards David.

“Yeah, I’m not touching it,” Matteo repeated, earning a groan from David, and spiralled back into cackling until the laughs turned into coughs that hacked through him again.

The last of Matteo’s sick days consisted of convenience foods and sandwiches until he was finally able to make something more nourishing himself, and it didn’t take too long for him to be back on his feet.

David’s pride took a little longer to recover. He never made soup again.

______________________________________

Notes: Thank you for reading!! If you think I’m ever going to let go of the “David is a lot of things and a shit cook is one of them” -headcanon, you’re so very terribly wrong.

I’d love to hear your thoughts! Come talk to be about David’s horrendous cooking, let’s share our views and horrendous ideas about his whereabouts in the kitchen. All the reblogs, likes and comments are dearly appreciated!

As always, a shout out to my lovely friend who’s always there for me, @mynameisnotthepoint

This is my fourth work for Fictober 2019 and you can find all the works here on my tumblr with a #fictober19, or on AO3 under the series “Fictober19″