#its just annoying i wish i had a workshop closer to me

[bumpscosity]

I think whats worse is i have 3 build a bears that need new birth certificates and theres no way I can just walts in there with all 3 of them at once meaning I have to take at least 2 trips to a place I rarely go thats an hour away

[gondowan]

Over Your Shoulder

Pairing: Paz Viszla/F!Reader

The Armstech and Paz have a fun night.

Word Count: 3,680 (holy fuck lmao)

Tags/Warnings:  18+ only, Good Communication Is My Kink, daddy/sir kink, and other sexy consensual shenanigans. This one is all smut just fyi. 

Notes: Ch 1 Here! Happy first Monday of 2021 folks.  

Chapter 2: Can I Get A Bird's Eye View?

“Would you care to find out?”

If you had asked Paz Viszla what he would be doing that day, making a move on the (charming) armstech would not be on the list. He had originally come back to Nevarro on a tip and to see what was left of the Covert, and what could be moved to the new location. He hadn’t planned to stay for too long, but the Bothan’s annoying non-description of who had the datapad stretched Paz’s stay from three days to two weeks. He wasn’t exactly a tracker, that was always a task better suited for someone such as Djarin. 

After gently persuading the local dockmaster for a list of new arrivals to Nevarro, he had worked down the list to arrive at the new Guild armstech. She had just arrived a week ago from Bothanui, and set up shop next to the cantina at Greef Karga’s request. Unfortunately, Paz didn’t quite have the luxury of just walking into her workshop. For one, it was constantly busy; day in and day out the woman saw a steady stream of clients, all heavily armed and odds were at least two of them would not be happy to see a Mandalorian. Secondly, he had managed to stay out of the New Republic and the Guild’s radar long enough, and he vastly preferred keeping it that way. Blue beskar and gattling gun(s) were not exactly conducive to blending in with crowds. So, the next logical step of course was to break in quietly, hope he didn’t cause a scene, and leave Nevarro. 

Except it didn’t quite pan out that way. Paz had managed to disable the apartment’s security system (not an easy task, this woman was clearly no amateur, he was quite impressed) but she had come back a bit earlier than he expected. 

Fuck. 

The first thing he saw was her blaster, safety off and pointed directly at him. “What do you want?” she asked. For someone coming face to face with an intruder, she didn’t appear nervous at all-- that probably had to do with her skill not just in weapons repair but weapons writ large. He also saw her giving him a twice-over, gaze lingering on his body, how curious. 

Paz cut straight to the chase, hoping to avoid making a scene “The datapad,”.

The woman relaxed and rummaged through her toolkit before walking right up to his face. That was new. Most people, even ones who might call Paz a friend, chose to keep their distance. Either this armstech had nerves of steel or he was losing his touch. “You might want to get this blaster checked,” she motioned at his thighs, “Those scorch marks are usually a bad sign,”. Her gaze lingered briefly and Paz was grateful for his helmet and armor for concealing his expression.

 Paz took the datapad, verified its contents, and turned to leave. “Thank you for this,”. 

“Ah, so you do have manners,” she teased, voice bright before she shut the door. 

What a strange being.

Against his better judgement, Paz showed up the next night. And subsequent nights after that. It was for his own good, he justified to himself, with the Armorer out of reach for the time being, his arsenal did need a good onceover. The other part of him just really wanted to get to know this woman better. She was definitely good at her craft, and carried herself with a general air of confidence, standing up to idiots who wanted to underpay or worse, tried to flirt with her for discounts. She was a by the books type of person, and was polite with clients, but kept to herself despite invitations for a drink from cocky guild members. 

She had also taken to calling him Blue, which amused Paz greatly.  

“Uh...would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked, eyes flickering briefly at him before returning to the gattling gun on his table. He could tell that she was trying to keep her voice casual, but her shoulders were tense.

Paz really wanted to, but blast, the Creed. “I can’t..but not for the reason you think. I can’t remove my helmet in the presence of others...it’s part of being a Mandalorian”. 

He could see the disappointment manifest in your body, and the knowledge that he was the one to do that to you disturbed him greatly. 

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” 

That was not the follow up question Paz was expecting. Truth be told, he was. The Covert had scattered, and the people he loved were either dead in the ground, missing, or far away. Maybe that was part of what drew him to this particular woman. Something consistent to look forward to, even if it was only for the past week or so. There was also the matter of the bantha in the room-- the rising tension demarcated as of late by light touches on her wrist or at the shell of her ear followed by cheeks flushing red. Paz wondered if she flushed red elsewhere as well. 

“Would you care to find out?”

It felt like the air was sucked out of your tiny apartment. You could hear the blood pounding in your heart, ears ringing as you came to grips with the situation. Was he asking what you thought he was asking? 

As if he could see the gears turning in your mind, the Mandalorian chuckled, thumb running across your bottom lip “A simple yes or no will suffice. I won’t take what isn’t freely given,”. 

You wondered what it would be like to bite his glove off.  What his hands would feel like. Yours were callused from years of mechanical work

“Yes.” you whispered, leaving a gentle kiss on his finger. 

He leaned closer, helmet grazing the side of your cheek as the vocoder crackled, “That was the response I was hoping for,”. He turned you around with a gentle push of his arm, “Let me take you to bed.” 

This was actually happening. You took his hand, looking for an anchor as you led him to your room. As soon as you were there, the brief bravado you had summoned earlier started to dissipate. You settled for helping him take off his bulky armor, pauldrons, greaves, and cuirass forming a neat pile by your bed, until he was left in his helmet and sinfully tight undershirt and pants. It was then that you realized that while the armor added a lot to his frame, he was just big to begin with, easily dwarfing you. 

Maker, you didn’t even know his name. You had barely met. Was this really happening? Yes, you had wanted him but was this too soon? Were you being too forward? 

“Stop thinking,” he growled, breaking you out of your reverie. He took your hands in his, laying gentle kisses over your knuckles, a kind gesture probably to try to assuage your fears. A thoughtful gesture from someone who lived and breathed war. He helps you out of your top, carefully peeling it off of you, making appreciative noises as you become more and more exposed. Your pants come off next, and inwardly you wish you had the foresight to wear something nicer than what you had on, but that feeling washes away when his fingers dip just inside the waistband of your underwear, teasing.   

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, right hand coming up to cup your face in a reassuring gesture. “I’m safe just so you know, I got my implant checked recently,”. You echo his statement, inwardly thanking yourself for keeping up to date with your health. 

He held your discarded scarf in the other, “If I cover your eyes I can--” 

You closed your eyes, already anticipating his ask. No turning back now, you were all in. You heard him take a sharp intake of breath before carefully wrapping the scarf around your eyes. It was...nice. Without the gift of sight you couldn’t worry about how you looked or what to do. Paradoxically, you felt a little freer than you ever had. You heard of the clunk of the helmet being placed on the ground, and then, his lips were pressing on yours. 

Softly at first, an almost chaste movement, as if he were gauging your response, trying to make sure he wasn’t overstepping. It was sweet, but you didn’t come this far for that. You wrapped your arms around him, deepening the kiss, mouth opening to try to convey your desires. It had been a while, you were going to make the most out of this, however fleeting it may be. 

You could feel him smiling a little against your mouth and empowered by your kiss, he moved his hands down, thumbs caressing your throat, enjoying the way your breath hitched. He slowly mapped your body, making you giggle when his stubble cheek grazed your collarbones. Down and back up your arms, laying kisses down your sternum and your stomach, and the back up your legs. Carefully and methodically. 

You could feel yourself getting wetter, and tried to squeeze your thighs for some friction, anything to help with the pressure. He laughed as he held your thighs apart, “No, not yet,”. 

“Blue I…,” you squirmed, fidgeting against his hold. 

His voice piped up from between your legs, “It’s Paz.”

You blinked under the blindfold. “What?”.

“My name is Paz Viszla,” he murmured, tongue licking a strip up your inner thigh. You shivered. 

Ohhh. “Paz…” you murmured, trying out his name on your tongue, “Paz.”

Paz’s mouth trailed upwards towards your center. “Careful sweetheart, gonna give me ideas with the way you call my name,”. His hands slid back up your torso tracing a line right along the underside of your breasts while his lips continued to ghost around your inner thighs. You could almost feel his breath on your clit, and your attempts to grind onto something are met with empty air. 

You whined, desperate for more sensation, “Hurry up, I haven’t got all night” you huffed. This was supposed to be a quick fuck. You were used to quick one night stands with random fly guys, all rushed and without much pomp and circumstance. This pace was killing you, albeit in a good way. 

You were rewarded with a slight pinch to your nipples, and your body arched, chasing the crumb of sensation. Paz continued to work your nipples, alternating between rubbing them with the soft pads of your fingers and pinching them. Hazily, you thought about asking him to pull. 

“So sensitive,” he murmured as if he was describing the weather and not as if he was torturing you by sucking a bruise right at the valley where your torso meets your leg.

You pout, the thought of saying please at ready on your tongue. Anything for more.  

“Impatient aren’t you? Too used to having it your way? That’ll be something to work on next time,”

As much as you were loath to admit it, the admission of “next time” filled you with a funny sensation. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be just a one time thing. But now was not the time to interrogate that. You jerk your head down at his general direction, “Paz, I swear to whoever if you don’t touch me---”

“I am touching you sweetheart. This is called foreplay,”

“I should’ve shot you that night you broke in.” you retort, pretending to be exasperated. You had fantasized about what it would be like to fuck the man underneath the blue beskar, but slow and teasing were not in your assumptions. If he wasn’t doing such sublime things to your nipples, you might actually kill him, you think. You can feel Paz finally lifting his head from your thighs, hands continuing their torture of your chest. He presses kisses on the underside of your jaw and on your neck, clearly enjoying the way you fuss around to look for more.  

You want something, anything more than what he’s giving you. “It’s not my first time you know, I don’t need---”. 

“Oh I know, but this is your first time with me,” and with that he finally palms your crotch, finally giving you some sweet pressure at your center. He slips a finger in between your folds, drawing circles around your clit with the back of his knuckle. Fuck, that’s nice. 

“Remember to breathe,” Paz says, a smug tone evident against the crook of your neck. Two can play at this game, you decide, moving your arm up, aiming blindly for his crotch. Paz quickly side steps you with a swiftness that belies his frame and he swats at your thigh, causing you to yelp. 

“Nice try but...let me take care of you. Will you let me hmm? I can make it so good for you,” he murmurs, one hand continuing to rub your clit, the other massaging the spot he had hit on your leg, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

That exact sequence of words tickles something in the back of your mind. A desire to be soft, pliant, and obedient for this beautiful and dangerous man. To hand over the reigns of your pleasure to him. You sigh, and let down your guard. 

Paz can feel the exact moment you decide to stop fighting him. He wasn’t expecting all of this so soon, and it was definitely something that they’d have to discuss later to set limits and boundaries, but fuck if it wasn’t sexy to see this beautiful woman allow him to pleasure her in the way that he wanted. He had long nourished a desire to be a caretaker in one way or another, but the life of a Mandalorian was not exactly conducive to relationships built on so many layers of trust and understanding. The possibility of you made his head spin a little.

Paz thinks about what it would be like to ruin you, this beautiful and talented specimen.  He doesn’t even register how hard he is and how uncomfortable his pants are as he drinks in the sight of you laid out on the bed in front of him, nipples hard, pussy wet, mouth open, wanting, wanting him. Paz wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to move immediately to blindfolds and taking his helmet off (he’s done that all of once in his adult life), but he knew he would absolutely regret it if he didn’t get to kiss and taste you before the night was over. He goes back on his knees in front of you. 

You can feel his breath on your clit again and his finger tracing your entrance and you make a noise in anticipation.

“There we go. Just relax, fuck, gonna make this so good for you,” he whispers, slowly inserting his finger into your pussy. You’re so wet that it slips in easily, and Paz moves his finger in and out, exploring you. It’s nice to have something for you to hold on to, but it’s not quite enough. 

As if he can read your mind, you feel a second finger at your entrance and right as Paz slips it in, you also feel his tongue on your clit. You blindly reach over, feeling his short hair under your hand, nails digging into his scalp right as he puts his mouth over you and sucks. 

Paz lets out an appreciative hum as he works your pussy with his fingers and your clit with his mouth. His tongue works broad flat movements up and down your sensitive bundle of nerves while his fingers methodically push and pull at your center. You bite your lip as the sensations intensify, pulling at Paz’s hair as he continues his precise movements. 

“Please Paz— I’m gonna-,”

“Ah, so you do have manners,” he chuckles, his voice muffled by your thighs. Faintly, you register that you had said that to him the first night he broke in, that jerk. You have no idea how he manages to stay so infuriatingly calm while he breaks you down. Your mind scrambles to keep a hold of your dignity. “Unnh--- if you keep this up Viszla, I might--ah fuck- I might have to keep you around”, hips gyrating to meet his tongue.

Paz laughed, “Promises promises. I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together, if you continue to play nice,”. His mouth leaves your clit just as you’re approaching your peak and you cry out in frustration. So close. You press back into his fingers, trying to get a hold of just a little more sensation 

You hear him hastily pull down his pants and truth be told you had forgotten he was still fully dressed the entire time while you were completely naked, which somehow made this all the more obscene. You can feel the head of his cock at your entrance as he withdraws his fingers.  

“Are you ready?”, blunt head of his cock moving up and down your folds.

You whimper and nod, but he doesn’t move.

“I need you to use your words sweetheart. Do you want this?”, soft kisses pressing against your temple. 

You turn towards him, searching for his lips and in a brief moment of lucidity, you whisper “I want you Paz”. You can feel the immediate effect of your acquiesce in his sharp intake of breath. 

   “I’d give you a warning, but I think we’re past that,” he growls. Before you can ask him what he means, Paz thrusts into you with one fluid motion, slick covered fingers intertwined with yours. You gasp at the intrusion, the sensation almost overwhelming. He was much bigger than you anticipated, and the stretch instinctively made you tense up. Paz holds your hand tighter, “It’s ok, just...just relax, let your body adjust to me,”. You can hear the strain in his voice as he fights against the instinct to rut. 

As your body adjusts, he slowly pulls out part way before pushing back in, testing your limits. For a brief moment, there were no words, just your breathing as you focused on the sensation of him filling you, the warmth of his chest on yours, all tying into a wonderful feedback loop.  

“Talk to me,”.

You only have one thing to say to him.

“Harder,”. 

Paz squeezes your hand lightly, acknowledging your request before grabbing your ankles and putting them at his shoulders. 

“Remember, you asked for this,” he whispers, a dangerous edge to his voice and you think about just how easily this man could engulf you and shiver. Before you can make a smart remark, he hoists your hands above your head, holding your wrists down with one hand, and fully thrusts into you, bending you in half and hitting impossibly deeper. You couldn’t push back against him even if you wanted to, and Paz sets a brutal rhythm, the push and pull of his hips fills the air with the sound of your bodies hitting together and all you can do is wrap your legs around him and take it. 

An endless litany of half-formed phrases, come out of your lips, but each thrust knocks the air out of your lungs, so you settle for holding onto him as he threatens to overwhelm you. Above you, Paz groans as he rolls his hips into you, “I knew you’d be perfect---fuck-- knew it as soon as I saw you that night. Dig those nails into me sweetheart,” he says, releasing your hands, cutting through the haze in your mind and you obey, nails digging in to try to get some purchase on his back. “Fuck yeah that’s it, show me how much you like this,”.

You can feel his rhythm start to falter as he gets close, and you squeeze down on his cock as he pulls out. Paz sputters, “No, not yet, shit--” he says, reaching down again towards your clit, lips pressed onto yours again as he works you up higher and higher, over the edge. 

“Please, may I cum please please Paz--” you moan into his mouth. Normally, you would just take what you can get and finish, but something about Paz makes you want to ask, to be granted permission and it’s a dangerous high filling your mind, washing away any sense of shame or guilt because all you can do right now is take what he gives you. 

You can’t hear him say yes but rather feel him mouth the words against your cheek and vaguely you can hear him encouraging you as he continues the unrelenting pressure on your clit and inside your pussy. You gasp and the tension inside your body builds and builds, and you let go, letting your orgasm wash over you, arching your back, thankful for the blindfold to hide your eyes rolling back and all you can think about is how full and how good you feel stuffed with his cock inside and his fingers on your nerves. 

As you come back to reality you can hear Paz curse, “Where do you want it?” he asks roughly. 

You smile, giddy from your release, and in a moment of brilliance, you tell him “ I want it on my face...sir,”. 

Paz chokes and his body seizes up at the sound of your words and he barely pulls out in time before spilling all over you, most of it landing on your chest and neck as he finishes on top of you. You preen under him, glad that your words have their desired effect, and your head falls back to catch your breath.   

He kisses your ankles, broad hands running up and down your thighs in a soothing gesture as he also tries to regain his breath. 

“Caught me off guard there,”

You smile at him, “I can be full of surprises,”.

Paz chuckles as he presses a kiss to your cheek before reaching around for his helmet. Once it’s on, he carefully removes the scarf from your eyes, thumbs brushing over your closed eyelids before pressing your forehead to his. 

“I don’t doubt that at all.”

Taglist: @remmysbounty @starlite41

[freckledmountain]

Lulling comfort

By @freckledmountain for @romeoandjulietyouwish

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Summary:

"Music had gotten an entirely new meaning after that, from Disney songs to musicals to classic rock, and everything else in between. … He´d do anything to listen to Peter sing to them again."

Or, an AU where you hear whatever your platonic soulmate sings or hums! :D

For the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1: Change

Some-

BODY ONCE TOLD ME

the WORLD IS GONNA ROLL ME

I AIN´T THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE sHE-ED

Peter´s endearing screech and dramatics at the starting notes startles a fond laugh out of Tony, making DUM-E beep in curious surprise.

The bot has a screwdriver in his grasp and usually Tony´d chastise him for grabbing tools without permission (he has not forgotten the last lab incident, thank you) but right now he´s much too preoccupied resisting the urge to join in the kid´s slumber party via his own singing.

God bless karaoke.

Peter had looked sheepish when he´d mentioned it to him, the little get-together his scary girlfriend and Ned had planned this weekend at the latter´s place after a ridiculously long week of exams. Tony had absolutely no problem listening to his kid´s voice in his head, but it was still sweet of Peter to ask beforehand.

“You know I work best with music anyway.” He´d said, remembering all the times he´d listened to Peter perform dramatically to songs on the radio.

Peter´d hunched his shoulders a bit, smiling. “Yeah, okay, okay, I just wanted to make sure because Ned might ask me to duet to Take on me again, and last time I sang it you were on a meeting and FRIDAY sent me that video of you mouthing the words and Ms. Potts looked like the disappointed dad from that Shawn Mendes vine- “

…even if he had no idea what the kid was talking about sometimes.

He´d gasped and placed a hand to his chest, feigning offence. “Have you forgotten the time you had Call me maybe on loopin my head for an entire day?”

“…It was a dare?”

“Hmm” he´d said, raising an eyebrow playfully as Peter dissolved into laughter. “whatever you say, bud.”

His smile softens unconsciously at the memory as he methodically tweaks a few things in his nanotech suit, still listening to Peter belt out lyrics in his head. Truth be told, he misses the kid working alongside him like usual, but he knows how important spending time with his friends is to Peter.

(The parenting books say it´s imperative too, although of course he hasn´t ever read, purchased five on a whim or fret over anything of the sort. Obviously.)

He hopes Ned and Michelle´s respective other halves don´t mind the kids crooning 80´s rock on a Friday evening, but he guesses if they´re anything like them, they probably won´t complain. Soulmates are cool like that.

He remembers all the times Rhodey had told him about his soulmate´s voice inside his own head, how he´d suddenly perk up and grin at whatever melody he could hear, how he´d start humming randomly to join in.

Tony had grown up hearing nothing but his own treacherous thoughts for the longest time, almost losing hope completely at the possibility of having a soulmate right up until adulthood. Heavy metal music blasted over his speakers constantly whenever he was busy in his workshop, but he never joined in. There were moments when he´d thought his love for singing would be soured forever, since apparently the universe or whoever was in charge didn´t have a problem leaving him without someone out there to share it with him in his head.

Thankfully, he always did have Rhodey, and boycould he kick-start the fun in singing again with his flawless Mariah Carey impressions. He´d loved the few times he´d heard Pepper sing too, and there´d even been one memorable instance where he´d surprised Happy vocalizing in an unexpectedly pleasant lilt.

Hearing Peter sing though...simply put, there was nothing else like it.

-and we could aLL use a little changeeeeeeeEEE

…Yes, nothing was quite like it.

Tony shakes his head, smiling, and grabs his phone to text May about the kid´s shenanigans. She´d been more than a little concerned when Peter and him had figured out who the other was, (that was one heck of a superhero fundraiser) but now they´ve become much closer, and Tony can genuinely say they´re friends. He´s glad to have her on his side, because May Parker is, in Peter terms, a very kind powerhouse, and not someone he´d like to mess with.

He´s about to press send when the lights in the room flash red.

Tony´s up and summoning his gauntlet attentively in a second, right as FRIDAY pulls up screens around him, showing footage of the emergency.

“What am I looking at, FRI?”

“Around 30 heavily armed machines have emerged in Midtown Manhattan, boss.” She responds, as the room fills with projections. The robots on screen are huge and ugly as heck, about the width and height of three school buses together. They´re making their way through the streets surprisingly quickly for how heavy they look. People run away, steering clear of their illuminated blasts. “They appear to be releasing high frequency blasts approximately every ten seconds. Local police have just arrived at the scene and are requesting backup, since the blasts are causing structural damage to the surrounding buildings. The source of these machines is unknown.”

“Tell the team to suit up and meet me there.”

“They have already been alerted, boss, but I´ll relay your message as well.”

The rest of his suit materializes around him, and he makes haste to get to the nearest window, half worried and half downright annoyed at whoever was behind this.

“Another one for the robot bingo card on means of world domination.” He says to himself, unimpressed. Just one week without this crap…

He soars above the sky nonetheless, blasting his way towards the fight.

Please stay put kid, he wishes, even as the singing stops.

---

Three blocks.

He´s three blocks away from where Peter is making his way back when it happens.

As big and fast as the robots are, Tony can tell they weren´t exactly made by the finest of the loons who regularly try to take over New York. Not to mention they´re absolutely appalling to look at, whoever designed these things had absolutely no taste, Tony thinks, crushing his twenty-second bot with the suit´s repulsors. It hasn´t exactly been easy, since the wretched machines have no real apparent motive but to blow up everything in their path, but within an hour it seems they´re done with the worst of it.

He can see Nat and Wanda dealing with the remains of one of the last ones below, while a little way away Cap´s talking with a few cops, scoping out the damage. Even though the air is permeated with smoke and there´s rubble in some places, there are no casualties, and they´ve thankfully emptied out the buildings that got wrecked. SHIELD will take care of the rest.

He flies over the skyscrapers, keeping an eye out for any other bots, but it seems like FRIDAY´s finished identifying all of them. He activates a private line on the comms to talk to Peter.

“Done securing the area from whatever that disastrous colour scheme was?”

He can hear Peter´s good-natured groan as his location pops up on Tony´s screen, six blocks away.

“I know, right? I can wear mismatched socks for a week and rock them no problem, but blue with like, eye-melting neon? Yikes.”

“Exactamundo. Couldn´t agree with you more, kid. But hey, it looks like you might actually be able to get back to your sleepover after all. Can´t wait to hear what alarming chorus is going to keep me up until midnight.”

“Oh you just wait, we´re doing ABBA next and it´s gonna be so-“

FRIDAY tears through the conversation with an alarm, but it´s precious seconds too late.

A gasp. An abrupt thud resounding through the comms. A scream. Peter´s.

Tony´s blood freezes in his veins.

“Peter? Peter!?”

He gets there in less than a minute and sees one of the bots with its blaster pointed at Peter, still smoking from the shot.

He obliterates it without a second thought, his mind swirling with fear and rejection at FRIDAY´s next words as he runs towards Spiderman´s crumbled figure.

“No heartbeat detected, boss”.

Chapter 2

The first time he´d ever heard Peter´s voice, he´d been running on three hours of sleep, a frankly heart-attack inducing dose of caffeine, and no motivation whatsoever to sit down with stuffy board members for five hours.

It didn´t exactly come as a surprise that for the first few milliseconds of the “Itsy bitsy spider” chant in his head he´d thought, confusingly, that it might just have been his mind finally resorting to the resurface of old nursery rhymes as a way to tell him to go the frick to sleep.

His heart however, was another matter.

As ridiculous and improbable as it sounded, a new something in his chest rose even before he knew what was happening. He might not have been a machine, but something slowly and irrevocably clicked into place the more he heard that gentle voice go on about water spouts and suns.

He´d stopped short in realization. Blinked.

And then smiled wide enough to lose himself in the mirth of it.

He´d run back to his workshop right after that, laughing like mad with the absolute mayhem of emotions coursing through his whole being, almost crashing into Pepper in the process. She´d looked back at him in concern, questions already forming in her lips, before Tony had frantically mimed at her to keep quiet, wanting to listen to the soft voice´s final notes.

Once the song finished, Tony may or may not have let out a loud shriek of sheer joy and told an increasingly delighted Pepper all about it, practically bursting with excitement.

“Pep! Wait, what do I do now!? Do I- Do I sing it back to him? Do I sing another- crap I don´t even know any children´s songs, JARVIS, JARVIS!”

In the end he´d had to phone Rhodey to yell the news ecstatically to him, because he´d just found maybe the universe hadn´t wanted to screw him over after all, and he felt like screaming it from the rooftops. The little voice was sweet and shy and boyish and happy, and about the best thing Tony had heard in his damn life. He couldn´t have contained himself if he´d tried, and heck if he was going to any time soon.

(“Tones, what- “

“Rhodey!”

“…was that you or a screech owl.”

“It happened! There´s- a little kid! Somewhere! Spiders! My soulmate!”

“The- wait what-? “)

Music had gotten an entirely new meaning after that, from Disney songs to musicals to classic rock, and everything else in between.

…

He´d do anything to listen to Peter sing to them again.

Burning.

He´s burning all over.

Screaming in pain, he tries to escape from the scorching heat, but it´s everywhere, it´s everything, he´s the pain, he´s the fire, everything hurts-

And then as soon as it appears, the pain is gone.

He opens his eyes, blinking woozily.

“Oh, thank God.”

His vision blurs all over for a minute. There´s dampness in the corners, left over from tears.

Tears?

He makes an attempt to sit up, but there´s a hand holding his shoulder gently. He blinks again.

Tries to decipher his surroundings.

He´s laying down in a mostly deserted, grubby looking street. A figure kneels close to him, some sort of red and gold robot type thing. He narrows his eyes at it, trying to figure out why it feels so familiar…but finds, to a detached kind of surprise, that he can´t.

He has no idea what happened.

The robot seems to be very relieved for some reason, just staring up at the sky for a couple of seconds, taking a deep, wheezy breath.

Even with his head feeling like wet cotton, he looks at him with concern. The robot sounds seconds away from fainting. Is he…alright?

When the robot´s face opens and a man´s head peeps out (cool!), he almost jumps back in surprise.

And then…

Well. He still doesn´t have a clue who this person is, but as soon as he sees the man´s expression of utter joy and relief, something inside him settles. Safe.

He blinks in confusion at the feeling. He knows this person. He does.

But who is he?

“Pete? You´re back bud. Do you feel okay?” The man´s (man? robot? man-robot? cyborg? figment of his imagination?) smile fades slightly, looking at him in worry. “FRIDAY” Friday? Who on earth is he talking to? “didn´t you say the CPR made his vitals-“

“I´m- I´m fine” he says, because enormous confusion aside, he is. Maybe his head is scrambled, and he feels exhausted, but he has a feeling he´s been in worse shape before.

A feeling.

The man (he´s decided on man) starts going on about robots, and getting him to a tower with someone called Dr. Cho, but all he can do is blink back, his confusion increasing.

“I´m really sorry” he interrupts, knowing he´s probably going to disappoint the man, but needing to push forward even so, “who- who are you? Are you-? “

He tries to put a word on the feeling seeing the man´s face had evoked in him before, tries to remember who he is or what he has to do with the man or why he feels so…safe. So safe. With him there, even with all the questions going round and round inside his head.

“Are you my dad?”

The man´s face stills. For a second, it looks like his brain short-circuits.

Mood, a thought rings out in his head, unbidden.

That´s when he hears it.

A huge metallic…thing coming through the street towards them, and he doesn´t know why but it makes his heart thump like a rabbit´s in a cage, and suddenly he gets a flash of remembering pain, and he knows these machines, these machines are dangerous, and what if the man gets hurt too-

He pushes the man behind him as he desperately tries to look for somewhere they can hide-

-but the man grabs his hand first and hurries them both towards the sturdiest-looking car on the street, crouching so they´re out of sight.

“Uh, alright. I- this must be really weird for you, but it´ll be okay. Just stay here for now, ´kay? I´ll- We´ll figure this out. You with me?” The man holds his gaze for a second, and it´s so sincere, he finds himself nodding.

The man smiles. “Okay. Give me a sec.” And then he gets up and turns towards the robot.

What the-what´s he doing!?

He reaches out clumsily to drag him back, but the man´s face gets obscured by his robot mask once more and he…

Flies?

The frick? He thinks in bewilderment, as he sees the man lift off and attack the robot with blasts coming from his hands. My maybe-dad can fly!?

Either he lives in a sci-fi novel, or he´s going absolutely nuts.

Could be both at this point, frankly.

The whiz of gold and red fighting the robot is almost quicker than his sight can keep up with, but he persists, looking out anxiously for any opening the robot might have to take the man down so he can try to warn him about it. There is none though, the robot might be exceedingly fast, but the man remains unyielding. He takes another look at the giant machine and sees it´s blaster-

And then it´s like someone takes his brain and shakes it around everywhere, and the throbbing is so sudden he kneels and clutches his head tightly to keep it from falling apart. His thoughts feel shattered and tampered with, and the pain-

He cries out in agony, and tears fill his eyes again.

The man! I have to look out for him!

He tries to listen to the fight again, but just as he tries to focus in on it it´s like a tsunami of yells and police sirens and voices washes over him, and noise, why is there so much noise-

Overwhelmed, he kneels until his forehead touches the grainy concrete, and wishes he would just pass out.

He doesn´t, though.

Among the oversaturated ocean of noise, one adds to the mix.

Except this one isn´t grating. This one doesn´t make everything seem like too much.

Because it feels like it´s coming from within himself.

He´s at a loss for what´s happening, but the voice slowly and lightly blocks out all the other noise, grounding him in a gentle tune. In a flash, he recognizes the song. He knows where he heard it last.

Mr Stark.

And he remembers.

“Kid? What are you doing up?”

He shrugs, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. Baby Tarzan laughs onscreen.

He half expects Mr Stark to push him for more details, but he seems to understand Peter´s not in a talking mood and walks up to him solemnly.

“Scoot.”

He does, and Mr Stark plops down next to him, wordlessly extending his arms out in invitation. Peter falls into the hug gratefully and sighs. Exhaustion pulls down on his bones, but he´d rather not get back to the nightmare he woke up from. Mr Stark snorts softly at something in the movie, and then they both jump a bit at the sudden loud gorilla roar. They keep watching the movie, and Peter´s curls are brushed back gently in a soothing motion.

He wants to sleep. But he can´t.

But he´s safe here, isn´t he?

His chest grows heavier as he thinks of the dream, and when he blinks, his eyelids dampen. He hasn´t shed a tear yet, but Mr Stark must sense something again because his hand at Peter´s hair stills.

And then he starts singing.

It´s a lulling comfort, and Peter melts into the embrace, allowing his tired eyes some rest.

He´s safe.

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

He´s safe.

With a final shot from Iron man´s repulsors, the robot powers down, and Peter runs out to meet Mr Stark, almost crushing his ribs in a hug.

“Woah, woah!” The helmet´s visor pulls up, revealing a grinning Tony. “Did that actually work? FRIDAY told me you were freaking out and I thought it might help calm you down.” He says, hugging him back. “But it did more than that, didn´t it?”

Peter´s too relieved to do anything but nod happily into his shoulder, but he gets the point across.

They stay there for a full minute, just holding on to each other. Until Tony grumbles out a “and I can´t believe you remembered Phil Collins before Iron man, seriously.” and Peter bursts out laughing, lightening the mood.

“The man didn´t sing that soundtrack in five languages for nothing, Mr Stark. It slaps.”

Tony hides his smile in Peter´s curls, and hugs him close.

[pepperonyspizza]

soulmate au where you touch your soulmate for the first time it leaves a handprint that's how you know they are your soulmate

well, this went kinda out of hand and ended up way longer than I wanted it to be lmao also this didn’t give me any specific ship so I went with pepperony :) I hope that’s what you wanted! ~*~ There is this rule that Tony has: Do not touch Pepper. Ever.  He’s not sure how it started but something about their ‘professional’ relationship has put that barrier over the years - but that doesn’t stop Tony from testing just how solid said wall is every now and then. The media isn’t calling him a sleazy asshole for nothing and it’s not like he’s being too obnoxious about it. 

A nudge of his shoulder against hers, his hand a fleeting pressure on the small of her back, always with a securing layer of clothing between them. That’s it. Nothing more. 

Tony tells himself that he doesn’t push it any further because, deep down, there is something that resembles a gentleman, not because he’s scared to drive them to a point from which there is no going back. 

But that fear (not that it’s actually that) isn’t enough to keep Tony from wishing that things could be different, especially during a moment like this one when Pepper is tearing into him about yet another board meeting he’s missed and he wants nothing more than to shut her up. 

It would be so easy. Tony can imagine it in his head perfectly. He would reach for her, wrap his fingers around her slender wrist and she would stop talking in an instant to stare at him in shock.  

More would happen after that, at least according to his fantasy. They’d kiss and stumble out of the messy workshop to continue what they had started upstairs in his bedroom. His real bedroom, the one only he gets to see. Well, and Pepper of course when she interrupts his peaceful sleep with her nagging—

“Tony!”

He blinks out of his daydream, realizing that he’s been staring at a bland wall for the last minute. The woman he’s been ignoring is looking everything but amused and not even the charming grin he shoots her way can calm her down.

“Yes, dear?” 

“Have you listened to anything I just said?” 

“...something about a board meeting that is scheduled for today?” 

“Was,” Pepper corrects, sighing deeply. “It was scheduled for today, Tony. 3 hours ago. I told you about it this morning.”

“Oops.”

“Oops?!” He gets up from his chair but she’s close on his heels even as he moves further into the large space of his workshop. “That’s all you have to say after I spent the past thirty minutes cleaning up your mess?” 

It must have been something important for Pepper to be this angry at him. He must have missed at least four other meetings this week alone and she’s barely done so much as lecture him about those. 

Tony whirls around with his hands up, “Woah, easy now. It’s not that big of a deal, right?” His grin is all teeth as Pepper’s nostrils flare. “Okay, that was the wrong thing to say. Let me try again. I’m really sorry. I forgot.” 

She crosses her arms and huffs but she isn’t yelling anymore. 

“Let me make it up to you,” he continues with a smile, “How about dinner? Just the two of us and some fancy food.” 

And just like that, he’s back to square one The fire in Pepper’s eyes is back, brighter and more deadly than before. Tony can’t believe that he’s said the wrong thing again. 

“Dinner? Are you serious?” She throws her arms up, looking both annoyed and exhausted, which makes Tony feel like he’s getting scolded by a teacher. “Thanks to your little stunt, I’ll most likely be dealing with this all night. I won’t have time to indulge any of your antics.” 

“Pep.”

“If you are so desperate for a nice dinner, how about you show up for the one you have scheduled for tomorrow evening?” 

“Pepper.” 

“Because, and I swear to god, Tony, if you miss anything else this week, I’ll—”

“Potts!” 

Tony barks at least, too tired to continue this argument any longer. He absentmindedly reaches for her, settling one of his hands on her forearm before he can think twice about it. 

It takes less than a heartbeat for Pepper to react. She goes silent, not because he told her to but because he’s literally holding onto her, which has never happened before. 

Her skin is all smooth and soft, such a strong contrast to his own. Tony wants to slap himself for only finding out now when he could have been touching her for all those years. 

But then Pepper’s eyes go wide and she jerks back like he’s burnt her. Tony lets go without comment, although the five steps she takes back aren’t necessary. He won’t jump her. They are friends, aren’t they? Friends touch each other casually. 

“Come on, Pep. I promise that I’m not infectious.” He does his best to grin as he shows her the palms of his rough hands. “And no oil or grease stains either. See?”

She doesn’t look down. In fact, it doesn’t seem like she’s looking at him at all but rather straight through him. Tony frowns, a little concerned and very much confused. His gaze drops down to where Pepper is clutching her arm and his eyebrows almost shoot into his hairline when he sees what her small hands are trying to cover up. 

Tony takes a step towards her, waiting for her to take one back and keep them apart. She doesn’t. Pepper only snaps out of her frozen like state when he’s already close enough to pull her arm out of the way. 

There, covering a good part of her forearm is a crimson handprint. Not any handprint but Tony’s. He puts his hand right on top of it to check, to make sure that it hasn’t been there before even though he already knows so. 

His hand fits perfectly on top of it. His eyes snap back up to Pepper’s face when she fails to respond to… well, anything. Frankly, the woman looks like she’s seen a ghost. Any other time, Tony would have been insulted but given the current circumstances, he kind of understands. 

“Are you going to say something?” “Mr. Stark, I—” 

Mr. Stark. She’s just found out that he’s her soulmate and she’s trying to go with formal titles? Hell no. That’s not how they are going to play. 

Tony cuts her off for the second time that day but instead of snapping, he kisses her. It’s not his proudest moment and he’ll blame his poor impulse control for it later. Pepper lets out a surprised squeak that’s muffled by his mouth pressing against hers but otherwise makes no move to stop him. 

It will happen eventually, Tony is absolutely sure of it - but until that happens, he’s going to take full advantage of her hesitation. Kissing Pepper has been his number one fantasy for so long and now that the knowledge of him being her soulmate hangs above them, the fire inside him has only grown hotter. 

Her hand comes in contact with his body just like he’s expected but not to push him away but to fist her hand into the fabric of his tank top and pull him closer. Tony realizes with a start that he’s kissing back. 

Pepper is kissing him. With quite a lot of enthusiasm, he might add. 

Tony doesn’t know how long the kiss lasts or at what point Pepper’s free hand has moved to his neck. He does notice the sudden and unnatural warmth that spreads over his skin where she’s touching him. It’s much warmer than the heat radiating from her hand should be, so much that he breaks the kiss with a startled yelp. 

The woman in front of him pulls her hand away quickly as her eyes snap open. If Tony wasn’t so scared about what the hell was going on, he would have been smug about the dazed look on Pepper’s face and the state of her lips. She opens her mouth to say something but then her gaze drops down to his neck. Whatever she sees there is enough to keep her quiet. 

“What?! What is it? What is happening?” Pepper only stares. “Potts!” 

“I am sorry,” she says, already in the process of reaching out again before she thinks better of it and drops her arm back down to her side. “I am so sorry, Tony. I didn’t think about...”

She trails off and Tony panics. What the hell has she done to him? His skin is no longer burning but the part she’s touched is still warm. It’s a calming heat but with how nervous Pepper looks, even that is not enough to keep him from freaking out. 

He dashes across the workshop and towards the full-length mirror in one of the corners, expecting the worst. The handprint he finds on his neck is completely logical and yet baffles him. He’d been so distracted by the mark he’s left on her that he’d forgotten about this part. 

Not only is he her soulmate but she’s his soulmate as well. 

Tony turns around, the biggest grin plastered across his face as he watches Pepper approach him, “Potts.”

“This is a disaster!” His heart drops. Isn’t she happy about this? It’s everyone’s dream to find their soulmate… or maybe it’s not that she’s finally found hers but rather who it has turned out to be. 

“There is no way we can cover that up unless you’re wearing a turtleneck to every single one of your meetings from now on.” 

He frowns. “What?” “This will be a P.R nightmare.” 

“Are you seriously thinking about the stupid company right now?” Tony asks with annoyance and the slightest bit of hurt in his voice. “We’re soulmates, Pepper. You kissed me!”

“Actually, you kissed me.” “And you kissed back!” He points at the handprint on his neck and yeah, its location will make it impossible to hide. Not that Tony minds that. “Look how you claimed me. Everyone will see this and know that you did it.” The speed at which she turns red has to be some sort of record.

“I didn’t mean to! Besides, no one will know that it’s my hand.”

“Nope, at least not until I tell them. And I will.” 

“Tony!”

“I’ll tell everyone, Potts. And you better tell any schmuck that tries to flirt with you that you already found your soulmate.” She’s quiet as she observes him. Tony doubts that she’s aware of the fact that she’s biting her lip but that doesn’t stop his lizard brain from wanting to kiss her again. The mark on his neck tingles, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“We have to talk about this. We can’t just… this will get complicated.” 

“We’ll figure it out,” Tony promises as he settles his hands on her hips. “I’m a genius. You’re smart. We got this.” He leans forward, his breath ghosting over her face. “We’ll have all the time in the world to talk. Later.” 

Before Pepper has the chance to object, he kisses her. This time, it takes not nearly as long before she’s returning the kiss, both her hands buried in his hair. It feels amazing. Like it is destined to be. 

In some way, Tony thinks that it is. 

[fanfalc-616]

The Rights Of A Nindroid

This is chapter Two

(Chapter one can be found here.)

Enjoy! (:<

Kai paces around the kitchen, checking the clock again. “Zane said shortly after our normal breakfast time, which is at eight. It’s ten! Why is he not here yet?!”

He knows it’s unlikely that something is wrong, but he can’t help but worry. This isn’t something that normally happens with Zane…

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Nya assures, confirming his logical side. “Something probably came up. He’ll be back soon.”

“He’s never late!” Jay argues from his spot on the table, sitting on the ledge rather than in a chair- and action that Zane would scold him for, if he was home.

“If something came up, he would’ve told us.” Cole agrees as he sits down, staring at his watch. “We haven’t heard a thing.”

Lloyd chews on his lip, kicking out his legs from where he sits on the counter to occasionally mess with Kai’s pacing- something that he would normally be annoyed with, but is too concerned at the moment to actually complain. “Can we track him?”

Jay blinks a few times. “That’s… actually a good idea.” He admits, tapping at his BorgWatch. Then his eyes widen. “His signature’s gone.” He breathes out. “Why is his signature gone?!”

Kai feels himself snap to attention. “It’s gone? What could do that?” He demands, rushing over to his ginger boyfriend.

Nya taps at her own watch. “A lot of things- and none of them good.” She admits, glancing over at Lloyd.

Cole stands up from his seat. “Okay, so we know that something is wrong. We need to find Zane. How can we do that?”

Lloyd also gets up. “Jay, Nya- see if you can find any cameras that show what happened to him.” He instructs, then turns to Kai and Cole. “The three of us will go out and see if we can find any clues.” He decides.

Kai nods, practically vibrating with his worry. They need to find Zane, and they need to find him now.

With his signature missing, who knows where he is…

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Zane is instantly alert as footsteps come closer, and he tenses, preparing to make an escape. He may only get one chance, so he must use it wisely.

When the door opens, he surges forward, using his cuffed hands as a form of bludgeoning weapon.

Much to his dismay, the guards seem to have been expecting that, and no one is there- they had opened the door while standing to the side, leaving the direct forward empty. This results in him stumbling, as there is no force opposing his attack.

This stumble allows the guards to catch him once again, rendering him once again helpless to the whims of his captors.

Despite the way he struggles, they still manage to bring him into a new section of the facility, and-

Zane feels his eyes widen as he comes to a realization of what this room is likely meant for, given the things inside.

A workshop. This in itself would not normally be a cause for alarm, but given the specific tools and the way the work table has restraints…

He picks up his struggling once again, this time finding it within himself to speak.

“Stop! Let- let go of me!” He demands, unable to hide the quiver in his voice. The tools themselves are not inherently threatening; Jay has used many of them in his repairs. However, these circumstances are vastly different from the way his boyfriend would fix him after a mission.

“Stop, I said! Release me!” His pleas fall on deaf ears, it seems, because he is still taken to the table, his handcuffs hooked on a piece of metal and clamped in place, forcing his arms above his head. He attempts to kick the guards, but his legs are restrained just as quickly, leaving him helpless to whatever fate awaits him.

Without any words, the guards leave the room, save for two, one at each of the doorways that could have served as escapes if not for the way he had been bound to the table.

A new man comes up to him, dressed differently from the officials or guards, instead wearing an outfit more suited to a mechanic.

The man comes up to Zane, pulling apart the top of his gi to get to his chest plate.

“Wait!” Zane shouts, struggling in his bonds. “You can’t-“ He fumbles for words, too panicked to figure them out. “Please, stop!”

The man doesn’t listen, instead choosing to open up Zane’s chest plate the rest of the way. Unfortunately, it seems that they had thought this through- he’s almost completely immobilized.

“This isn’t- stop it! Let go of me!” Zane demands, despite knowing that if they’ve come this far, there is only an infinitesimally small chance that they would genuinely listen.

“Please!”

In a surprising but very relieving turn of events, the man does pause in his work, turning and calling out to one of the nearby guards.

“Should I mute its vocals?” He asks.

Zane closes his mouth fast enough that there’s an audible click. Mute him? They- no, they couldn’t do that! He- no, they… they can’t…

He’s not an it, either. He is capable of conscious thought, the same way a human would be. Where did they get the idea that he’s lesser? Despite being mechanical, he’s always been on par with the intelligence of humankind. Why would they think otherwise? There isn’t any evidence to support the idea that-

A wire being tugged on draws him from his thoughts, warnings popping up in his vision to emphasize the issue- though it’s not as though he didn’t notice himself.

“Stop it!” Zane snaps, straining against the bonds that hold him once again. They may attempt to harm him all they wish, but he will not allow this to happen so easily.

His words are ignored. “Give me that scanner, yeah?” The man calls towards the other doorway; the one that Zane had not entered through. “I’m gonna need it; its system’s more complex than we thought.”

A loud sigh comes from a young woman as she steps into the workshop. “I’m going to need it back.” She warns, handing the brunet the device.

The man turns back to Zane. “Yeah, I’ll give it back after this shift.” He confirms.

With a nod, the woman heads back into the side room.

The man returns to examining his wiring in such a way that makes Zane feel almost as though he’s some form of lab rat; a lesser being used for experimenting on.

It is not a pleasant feeling.

No matter how he strains and attempts to resist, no progress is gained, and he remains quite firmly trapped.

Eventually the man seems to grow tired of him, and roughly clangs a tool against one of his sensors, tearing a cry from him.

“Behave, nindroid.” He snarls. “I don’t have time for your delusions.”

“I am beginning to grow tired of this assumption that I am lesser.” Zane snaps. “I am just as sentient as any human, and I expect to be treated as such!”

A wrench is used to hit him across the face, hard enough that his head is roughly forced to the side, slamming into the side of the table.

Zane clenches his teeth and turns back to the man, preparing to unleash a rant- but something peculiar happens.

The man turns to a guard. “Yeah, this one will need training too.” He sighs. “Was kinda hoping it’d behave.”

“Training?” Zane questions. “What is that supposed to mean?” An edge of unease has crept into him. Something is telling him that the ‘training’ he’s referring to will not be pleasant.

No matter what he does, he’s ignored for the rest of the time- his words and attempts at resisting aren’t even acknowledged.

That is quite odd, but Zane would not put it past them to be finding enjoyment in his suffering- he’s found that some humans have the disturbing habits of putting salt on snails and squashing bugs solely because they have power over what is considered a lesser being.

They have blatantly stated that they view him as worth less than humankind- that point was quite firmly driven home by the use of the pronoun ‘it’ to refer to him. Due to the circumstances, it seems that all he can do is hope that they treat him with at least the dignity given to most kinds of laboratory animals- there are laws in place that allow the majority of non-human living beings that are tested to be treated humanely.

Yet even that seems unlikely. Such laws only apply to vertebrate animals, and while not explicitly stated in the legal documents, it is quite heavily implied that this only applies to organic life forms.

This is… less than ideal. Even so, he will do his best to power through until the others come for him- he had informed them that he would only be slightly late. It will not take long for them to realize that something is wrong.

They will come for him. He will just have to be patient… and pray that his captors do not plan to disassemble him fully in the meantime.

[damnsel-in-stress]

It’s The End Of The World Every Day Of The Week

Commision by the lovely @welovetonystark​

Prompt: If you love me, why did you leave me? Ship: WinterIron Inspired by “Refrão de Bolero” by Engenheiros do Hawaii Tags: Angst With A Happy Ending; Pining James Buchanan Barnes; Slightly Not Steve Friendly (very slightly); Mutual Pining; Pre-Relationship

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

It ends when James—not Bucky, not the Asset— decides that Tony is too much. 

That James is too little.

Too little in comparison to the brilliant star that is Anthony Edward Stark. Tony is the Future, Tony is big and all encompassing, Tony is kind, Tony is generous, Tony is clever, Tony is funny, Tony is fierce, Tony is stubborn, Tony is loving and resplendent.

Tony is everything James can’t have.

James shouldn’t want Tony. He doesn’t deserve everything that Tony is. He should just content himself in a tentative friendship, it should be more than enough for him, a brainwashed assassin, the Fist of Hydra, the Winter Soldier, Howard and Maria Stark’s murderer.

His hands, hands that once held his family close and helped his friends, tarnished by blood he’ll never be able to clean off—and he tries, sometimes until his flesh one is raw and red—, are not worthy of touching Tony, not the hands that orphaned the genius. His arms, muscles gained through numerous fights from Before and After, are not good enough to hold Tony. His lips, once sweet on the ladies and few fellas he’d charm as Bucky, now are too bitter and poisonous to kiss Tony. James is a being made of winter, sculpted with ice and steel.

James is not a man worthy of Tony Stark.

He had been, once. Bucky had been a man worthy of Tony Stark. Good heart, loyal, pure. Untouched by the worst the world can provide, dreaming of ending that stupid war and going back to his family, maybe settling down and living his life peacefully in some job that involved mechanics, with a house that looked much like the others in a neighborhood that looked much like the others. James knows all that from what people around him—mostly Steve—had told him, and his own faded memories.

But he is not Bucky Barnes. He has his face, his voice, his body, some of his memories, but he is not him, much to Steve’s disappointment, who still holds the hope that James will suddenly snap back into being the guy he knew over seventy years ago.

Steve tried so hard to get at least one of the people he loved, clinging to the past so fiercely, he never stopped to think that the man he would find might not be the one he knew. And while he tries his best to be there for his friend, it’s clear who Steve really wants. It made James immensely uncomfortable in the beginning, when he barely was a person, to have someone look at him with so many expectations that he simply could not meet. Now it mostly just annoys him, but he appreciates that the blonde is trying.

“I don’t know if I feel bitter or vindicated.” Tony had commented when James brought it up. “Rogers turned his back to the world to get Bucky, but Bucky is not who he gets. Poetic.”

“You don’t.” James had answered, fiddling with the ball he had been using to play with Dum-E. “Expect me to be Bucky, that is.”

“I know a thing or two about being kidnapped and tortured. I of all people should know you can’t leave a situation like that without something changing.” Tony smiled at him, a broken thing that pulled on James’ heartstrings. “I just figured you’d have it worse. ’Sides, I like you just fine.”

Tony had then cracked a joke that flew over James’ head because he had been too distracted playing that last sentence on repeat.

Tony then proceeded to crack the walls of cold around the super soldier’s heart and make himself a home there, one smile and nickname at a time. Big things that mean a lot and little things that mean much more, that’s the language of Tony’s love, and the former assassin couldn’t help but learn it. Hydra had made sure the Soldier would always learn any language needed for missions, and Hydra would have combusted if it knew its ex-weapon used that skill to get closer to their most dangerous enemy.

It is hard not to fall for Anthony Edward Stark, and that’s exactly what James Buchanan Barnes does.

Exactly what he shouldn’t do.

It ends when he finally remembers that. When the true nature of his feelings appears to haunt and taunt him.

It ends, he runs away from it. ------------------------- It’s hard.

It’s hard to stay away.

Because if Howard ever taught him something—in between the alcohol fueled beatings and the rage fueled insults—is that if you want something, you go get it. That if you want something, you go get it because no one will get it for you. No, at most they will give you a broken version of what you asked. Most likely, they will take it for themselves or simply not get it.

But James is not an it.

James is very much a man. One Tony helped into freedom, a freedom Tony will never take away. One Tony will never lift a finger to harm.

So he keeps quiet when James reels back in the middle of their conversation. He accepts when James avoids his presence. He keeps his distance when there’s no way James can avoid him.

The genius knows that eventually he will end alone, that everyone will leave, it’s only a matter of time—another of Howard’s teachings that the Universe delighted in proving useful—and James is not different. James has all the reasons to go away.

So Tony stays away.

Lets go.

He does like to see things through the end, anyways. ------------------------- James is near the end of his rope.

No matter where one may go in this world, you can’t simply escape Tony Stark. The genius is everywhere. So it really doesn’t surprise James that he sees the man even in a remote town in some cold country.

Doesn’t make it less painful, though.

He had thought, had foolishly hoped, that putting on the full Winter Soldier gear would bring enough of a bitter taste in his mouth for him to finally let go of his affections. He is now once again the Winter Soldier, full on “murder strut”, deadly precision and cutting silence. It certainly works for Steve, who glares at the mask covering half of his friend’s face like it created arms and stuffed an entire lemon in his mouth.

But it doesn’t work for James. The mask, the gear, his gear, is more of a statement than anything, an act of making something that was once Hydra’s now James’. The Winter Soldier isn’t Hydra’s anymore, he belongs only to himself. All thanks to a certain fierce genius, who ensured James would forever be his own person. Tony made the gear, Tony made the mask, Tony offered James the title of Winter Soldier, and he had accepted it with pride and vindication running inside his veins. Had preened under the mechanic's appraising eyes, blushed under the mechanic’s gentle touches to “assure everything is in place” and smiled at the sweet warmth of the mechanic’s velvety voice.

The Winter Soldier is now a good memory of Tony Stark.

James wants to go back so much. Go back to the engineer, to his engineer, and their days in the workshop, their nights at the rooftop, the random mornings of breakfast cooked together, the rare conversations in vulnerable times. The big gestures—like the arm and the gear—and the small gestures—the softness of the mask’s inside and the hidden blade in the arm’s wrist. The warmth only Tony has, the warmth of a patch of sunshine, the warmth of a kind heart.

He yearns and craves and there is something coiled around his lungs and heart. Something glacial that squeezes a little more every minute he spends just outside Tony’s reach. It squeezes and squeezes and squeezes, a bit more painful each time, a bit more bitter each minute, a bit more cold each squeeze.

He can feel it as he sees Tony’s face appear in one of the TVs being sold nearby, Steve’s voice barely registering inside his mind. Too occupied drinking in the image of the man he adores, the man he loves, sitting all handsome in front of a giant public with his three piece suit and intelligent eyes.

Each word out of his mouth is the start and end of James’ world. ------------------------- It is curious, for sure, how much people overestimate the feeling of having someone kneeling at your feet.

Or, perhaps, it depends on who’s kneeling.

James Buchanan Barnes doesn’t look good on the floor. Well, he does, all that power and strength willingly restrained, obediently kneeling in front of Tony would, in any other situation, give Tony a rush of desire running down his spine, taking away his breath and reduced him to a needy beast.

Now it fills him with sour dread.

“Don’t get me wrong, Barnacles, this is very tempting, but can I ask why?”

Why are you here? He doesn’t say, be he feels each of those questions engrave themselves in his heart. Why are you kneeling in the middle of the workshop looking like a hot mess? Why did you come back? What do you want? What are you trying to accomplish?

And ultimately.

“I love you.”

“Why did you leave?”

James takes a sharp breath, and Tony feels his hands tremble in his jeans’ pockets, where he hid them once Friday alerted him of the soldier’s visit.

He knows why, he has always known why. Howard taught him, Stone taught him, Stane taught him, Natashalie taught him, Rogers taught him. Tony Stark is simply too much of a nothing for anyone to stay. Eventually, people get what they want, what they need, and they leave, because Tony isn’t it. Only a matter of time. He can count in one hand how many went against that expectation.

“If you love me, why did you leave?”

“I don’t deserve you.”

This time, the mechanic is the one to take a sharp breath.

“You’re more, so much more than I should ever wish for. But I love you, I want you, I need you. I shouldn’t, you can have so much better, so much more than me, Tony, but I can’t stay away, I can’t leave, I can’t.”

James looks up at him for the first time since he entered the workshop, and the mechanic sways where he stands with the force of the feelings the former assassin carries in his eyes. Icy blue filled with adoration, need, love, everything the brunet had long accepted would never be directed at him.

“Please, Tony. I’m not much, but I can be yours. I am yours.”

Silence reigns for a few minutes as thoughts run inside Tony’s head. James can probably hear the gears working in his head. There is a man kneeling in the middle of the room and confessing to him. James is kneeling in the middle of the room and confessing to Tony. Asking for a chance. Saying that he’s too little for Tony. The engineer feels like laughing at the irony. And crying, definitely feels like crying, because he can tell it’s not a lie.

He is loved.

“Get off the floor, Ice Scream, looking at you is hurting my knees.”

He says, extending his arms, inviting this new beginning.

[unlockthelore]

Where The Heart Lies

An average day in the Elric-Rockbell residence includes a great deal of bargaining, bantering, and bickering. And they wouldn’t have it any other way. From the story One is All, All Is One on AO3. For more updates, follow the one is all all is one tag on this blog.

Winry ignored the pins and needles digging into her knuckles as she twisted the bolt a bit tighter. Aching fingers curled around automail ones turned to and fro to test the range of movement. Wires exposed from beneath the joint panels cast thin shadows over her work desk until the arm was set down beside its counterpart upon a small metal stand. Pain throbbed in her shoulders as she leant back, massaging against the hollow of her throat then rolling her shoulder blade. Papers with half-written scribbles and designs overshadowed both the ones with lilting script and the harsher ones depicting numbers and addresses to which parcels would be sent.

She sifted through each one with heavy-lidded eyes, stacking them aside then peering at them closely to ensure she had the correct pile. Once the grain of her desk could be seen, she raised a brow as the white order papers gave way to colorful ones. Slipping the page free of her work, she smiled faintly at the drawings in crayon and pencil. Her desk chair creaked as she shifted backward, and she slowly rose to her feet. The buzzing in her legs and deadened lead feet ignored in favor of wandering over to her bulletin board, rummaging around in a small box of tacks for a new pin.

The picture was tacked up aside of a photograph of two smiling children covered in dirt and pond slime while their father, who fared no better, held them from behind with a sunny grin. Her fingers brushed against the photograph. His joy, as beloved to her as an order for a custom-made piece, brought a smile to her face. Immortalized as it was through photographs — a moment frozen in time — she could remember the day vividly. Her eyes drifted close for a moment, and she ran her finger over the dried wax from the crayons, the drawing reminding her of what she had to finish.

A gentle creaking interrupted the silence as she stifled a yawn, her wrist covering her mouth. Den’s head poked through the opening then butt against the wood to push it open further, trotting through with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Hey there,” Winry mumbled, rubbing her fingers through her hair, her headband pushed up from where it slipped beneath her goggles. “Seems we’re both up pretty late, huh?”

Den, of course, gave no other answer beyond a panting bark. His tail whipped against the boxes emblazoned with the symbols of Rush Valley as he trotted inside, bumping his head against Winry’s leg while she walked back to her desk. “I should be done in a little while,” she said, scratching behind one of the hound’s floppy ears. “As long as it’s not too late, Ed won’t notice a thing.”

She sat down and stretched her arms above her head, fingers joined and cracking at the joints before falling to her lap as she deflated with a sigh. Balancing her job with everyday life was a struggle, but it was definitely worth it. She glanced at the photograph on her desk — wide and filled with so many faces of friends they’d made along the way and of family that’d come later. Ed and Al, whole just as they had promised, sporting big smiles at the end of their journey.

It took them so long to get to where they were now. Deciding to work from home and to send orders out to her clients was a no-brainer. If she could spend time with her family and continue her passions, then she was all the better for it. She could practically hear Ed telling her not to give up and all of his belly-aching about taking care of the little things while she put her hands to good use at what she did best.

“Dork,” Winry muttered under her breath, rubbing Den’s head at the confused snuffling. “Don’t worry about it…”

Her stomach growled, and she grimaced, pressing her hand to it and sitting upright. When was the last time she’d eaten anyway? Glancing around her desk for the clock she kept, she raised a brow at the plate and steaming mug set at the corner of her mess. Her fingers curled around the mug’s handle and brought it close to her nose. Dark chocolate cocoa greeted her with its bittersweet scent, a touch of honey sweetening her tongue as she took a sip. The plate housed a sandwich with the corners cut crisply, and upon further inspection, just a bit of everything as she liked it.

Winry was confused but grateful, taking a hearty bite as she continued working with her other hand. Den curled up by her feet with his tail thumping at the legs of her chair rhythmically. With that, and the sound of her wrench cranking and burners hissing, she barely noticed her surroundings, and time seemed to slip to a crawl.

“Hey, you gonna spend the whole morning working?”

Winry shrieked at the cold touch on her shoulder and whipped her head around, wrench raised and clutched with intent to throw. Golden eyes widened in concern, and shock mirrored the stricken expression on her husband’s face, his hands immediately raised in a familiar defensive pose. Her face warmed as a blush appeared across her cheeks, heart thumping as she lowered her weapon.

“Ed?” She muttered, rubbing at her eyes to ensure that he actually was there. After a few strokes of his stricken expression remaining and then a few more of it gradually turning to one of amusement, Winry huffed. “What are you doing up so late?”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Could ask you the same thing,” he said, reaching over to flick off the desk lamp.

“Wh—“

Protest parted Winry’s lips quickly, but snapped them shut when she noticed that without the amber glow, the room was still lit. Curtains drawn over the window, normally dark as the world was at night, were now faintly lit with blue dawn light.

“When did it get to be morning?!” Winry whisper-yelled, jumping up from her chair and hurrying to the window. “And we have so much to do today. How did I lose track of time?!”

The curtains were thrown open, and to her dismay, the sky was already beginning to tinge a light blue. Smudges of hillsides and grassland on the horizon blanketed in mottled shades of grey and black. Mortification aside, realization dawned on her that she must have been in her workshop all night. She cast a longing look over her shoulder at the blond man skimming over the order slips with a finger pressed to the papers to guide along as he read.

“I don’t know,” Ed murmured, and Winry wished she could gauge whether he was upset or neutral. Usually, when his head was stuck in a book or when he was in the middle of reading, he always had this blasé, distracted tone. “This is a pretty big order, isn’t it?”

Guilt twinged at hearing the genuine interest in his voice. Winry eased the curtains shut then pressed her hands together, fingertips to knuckle then back, feeling the ache in her joints; but it was nothing compared to the one in her chest.

“Ed,” she started gently, swallowing when he gave a distracted hum in reply. “You didn’t…”

Her words trailed off, and after a moment of silence, Ed lifted his head to glance towards her. His puff of breath was soft. Lips curved into a smile that made his disinterested look gentler, an arm offered to her which she gladly took, pressing close to his side with her hand flattened to his back.

“Nah, it wasn’t one of those nights,” he assured. His voice was deep and warm, lips brushed against the crown of her head. Winry wanted to tell him to wait until she’d bathed. Her forehead was likely clammy from sweat, and she could hardly imagine how her hair smelled, but neither must have bothered him as he pressed a smile to her cheek, accompanied with another kiss. “I just woke up when I noticed the bed was cold and realized that my wife was somewhere else.”

Winry huffed and poked his side, ignoring the jolt in her stomach at the raised skin from one of the scars bisecting his stomach.

If Ed noticed, he didn’t say anything, continuing on his tirade with a haughty tone and a light squeeze to her shoulder. “Poor Den was in and out of the room so often, you didn’t even notice him.”

Almost as if to punctuate what Ed said, Den barked and panted, looking up at them expectantly. Ed tipping his head towards the canine with a raised brow as if saying see? Winry tucked her arms around his sides and hugged him close to her. Whether it was from the exhaustion from or the weight of knowing he was on his own, she didn’t know, but the guilt was heavier on her than usual.

“I’m sorry…”

“Hey, come on…” The snobbish tone was replaced by a softer, tender one. Ed’s hand, calloused and large, set against her shoulder and pressed to hug her closer. “I know how into your work you get, Winry. It’s fine.”

She wanted to disagree, but he was just as stubborn, and she knew he only meant what he said. It was one of his more annoying traits. A light kiss was pressed to the top of her head despite the smoke in her hair, and when he pulled away, Winry lifted her head to meet his gaze.

“Just promise me that you’ll take a break.” His eyes were almost brown in the weak light, cheeks rounded with joy. “Alright?”

Winry sighed softly then pressed a kiss to his jaw, delighting in the brief flicker of surprise. “I promise.”

It was difficult to tell if he was blushing or not, but she had a sneaking suspicion from the way his eyes darted away from her. Years of marriage, two children, and a host of experience between them, yet he still turned red when her lips grazed his skin. Some women might have found it immature, but none of them would ever get the chance to be with Edward Elric.

“And drink your water,” he mumbled in that quiet, pissed-off tone he often used when he was embarrassed, arms withdrawing from around her as he turned away.

Winry giggled. Seconds from calling out a retort that she normally would, she paused and glanced toward her desk. The plate where her sandwich had lain was gone, and in its place were peeled apple slices on a small saucer. The mug she’d been nursing for the better part of a few hours was also missing, replaced by a cool glass of water misting on the sides with a coaster set beneath it.

“… Wait….”

She distinctly remembered having gotten herself cocoa and food before she shut herself in her workshop. Den kept coming in through the door by pushing it open and eventually, she gave up on shutting it. Engrossed in her work as she’d been, she hardly noticed when her meals kept replenishing themselves. Grateful to take another sip or bite so that she could continue with what she was doing.

“That was you, Ed?!”

He tensed in the doorway, his loose hair falling over his shoulders and whipping around to drape down his back as he pointed at her. “Hey, don’t sound so surprised. Sickness and health, remember?” His nose wrinkled, voice lowering as he whirled his head away. “I’m taking care of you just like you took care of me, so get used to it.”

So that’s what it was. Fondness swelled in her chest as she took a few steps toward him, careful of Den’s wagging tail as she passed by.

“… Ed…”

“Wh— Hey, what’s with the eyes?” He turned to face her, lips pressed into a frown. “I know you’re tired and all, but — mmmph!”

He really did talk too much. Winry smiled against the soft touch of his lips to hers, sighing gently when he drew her into a tight embrace. While she knew that she didn’t smell the sweetest , he still carried the scent of musty books and chalk. Her heart thudded at the familiarity and how easy he coaxed her lips apart. The bittersweet taste of dark chocolate met with a charming hint of mint. Winry’s fingers nestled in Ed’s hair when they parted, a smile curving her lips and brushing against his own.

“I love you too, Ed.”

The puff of Ed’s breath was soft against her mouth as he laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“What, wh— ah!” Winry shrieked as she was lifted up in his arms, her ears burning at the tight squeeze around her thighs.

“I’ve been refilling your drink and getting you food for the last hour, and you didn’t even notice,” Ed complained , tucking her close to him as he carried her into the hall. “You’re tired. Come on, Den.”

Winry squirmed, though it was mostly for show. She did feel exhausted and could barely keep her eyes open. Knocking her fist against his shoulder blade as he carried her down the hall, grumbling all the while.

“But you just said that if I promise to take a break, I can keep working!”

“That was before I realized being a gearhead was frying your brain!”

“What was tha—”

Their arguing was interrupted by the soft patter of footsteps. Winry peered past Ed down the hallway where the faint light from the windows cast shadows over a squirming bundle dragging across the floor.

“Uh-oh…” Ed mumbled, looking over his shoulder. “Here, I got her.”

He set Winry down on her feet, slipping away from her, pressing a light peck to her forehead before he jogged down the hall.

“Nina?” He called in a hushed tone, reaching out for the squirming bundle. “Hey, where’re you going…?”

From beneath the quilt, a little girl with sandy blond hair poked her head out, her wide blue eyes watching him curiously.  “Daddy…?”

Winry smiled slightly, leaning against the door while Den sat at her feet. Edward muttered to their daughter while chasing her into the living room. “Come back here, where’re you off to?” He asked, scooping her up in his arms, blanket and all.

Nina sniffed and rubbed her hand against her nose, trying to keep a grip on her blanket with the other. “Hungry…”

“Yeah?” Edward bounced her lightly, glancing over his shoulder at where Winry stood.  “Well let’s eat the apples your mom didn’t want, huh?”

“Who says I didn’t want it?” Winry called after him as he stepped into her workshop.

“Hey! Back to bed,” he called, pointing a finger around the doorway. Nina’s giggling joined Winry’s chuckling, her squealing laugh, likely from Edward tickling her, breaking the morning quiet. “You’re going back to bed too after a snack.”

Winry shook her head and started climbing the stairs, covering her mouth to stifle a yawn.

“Geeze, when did I get to be the responsible one around here?”

That’s part of having a family, Ed. Get used to it.

[cellmint]

Jealousy

Revenant x Wattson

Word count-2035

Rating-G

Summary-

Revenant gets a new feeling after watching Pathfinder with Wattson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wattson finish repairing Pathfinder while enjoying the conversation with him. She whipped her forehead cleaning some dirt and looked around picking up tools.

"Wattson I was thinking you could help me with my grapple." Pathfinder spoke.

"What do you need upgrades?" She smiled.

"That would be very helpful friend." Pathfinder made a thumbs up.

Wattson's workshop was very spacious had a few fences being tested out in one side of the room some papers on a desk a computer. Pathfinder was sitting in the middle of the room being fixed by her as she had a table beside Pathfinder. Each utensils was neatly organized making it simple for her to grab what she needs quickly. Pathfinder gave his arm to her and she took a small notepad and wrote on it getting some measurements and information.

"I'll see what I can do." She smiled.

"Thank you so much Natalie." Pathfinder stood up walking off.

"By the way Path?" She look at him wondering.

Pathfinder turn around looking at her in the eyes.

"How did you end up with those claw cuts on your back?" She wonder.

"Revenant in one of the fights." Pathfinder respond.

"Oh, alright." She walk away to the computer.

She basically spent the hole day in the workshop trying to make upgrades for pathfinders grapple.

She felt something walk inside of the room she was in, quiet and steady almost feeling like a gust of wind. Except there was no ventilation just one far away. As she turned around to look back she saw nothing. She proceed with her work and felt something on her right shoulder.

"What are you working on?" A voice spoke.

Revenant sneaked up on Wattson startling her a little bit he placed his head on her shoulder watching the screen.

"Oh this." She smiled.

Revenant saw some information on the screen showing a grapple. He placed his right hand on her right shoulder shoulder.

"I'm fixing and upgrading" Pathfinder.

"Ha that hunk of junk is better left to die than to help it."

Wattson look at Revenant. He got his head off her shoulder standing next to her looking at her in the eyes.

"Don't say that! His very supportive and great in the battle field. He's better at communication than you. He doesn't go running off solo. His upgrades will be useful in battle even for his allies" She spoke.

"Why don't you upgrade me instead?" He ask.

"Cause you never want upgrades, let alone be repaired." Wattson respond.

Revenant made a growl walking off with one thing in mind, kill Pathfinder his footsteps silent walking to the door.

"Your not hurting Pathfinder." She spoke in a serious tone.

"?! Why not?!" He looked at her startled a bit.

"Because he has done nothing to you. If you wish to hurt or kill someone solve it in the arena. Right now we are not in the arena so you better show some self control please." She respond looking at him in the eyes.

Her tone was serious almost made Revenant got surprised. He chuckled a bit, he feeling very irritated almost as if it was a challenge. Revenant wanted to defy her orders so bad. He walk to her grabbing her face gently. She looked surprised by him. His hands held her face gently looking at her eyes to change the subject.

"Will you give me an upgrade?" He look at her.

"Is this because of your jealousy of Pathfinder?" She wonder.

He look quiet then his grip on her face loosen and he took a sigh. Gazing into her eyes somehow calmed him down. He knows her intentions are good and she means well.

"I don't want that stupid Pathfinder to get upgrades. Its annoying." Revenant look at her remembering.

Wattson took a small sigh turning around  sitting on the computer.

"You better get some sleep." Revenant spoke walking off.

After a long time Wattson kept writing making a small yawn. Revenant pass the room stopping in his tracks. He was thinking of a way to apologize for what he said earlier but didn't know how to tell. As he look at Wattson he took a few steps getting close to her. It seem she wasn't aware he was in the room.

"Wattson it's 3am." Revenant spoke to her making hos presence known.

He walk to her and saw her up close. His eyes showed her status and heartbeat. It said status tired, stressed. He made a small fist sitting next to her feeling something unknown develop in his hardware. Was it a new emotion? His forgotten what it feels like.

"Why is he so important?" He ask.

"Because his a friend that wants help. I'm happy to help anyone that needs it" She respond smiling.

"All this for a friend." He look confused.

Wattson finish and stood up stretching her arms making a smile. She was tired and exhausted. She had bags under her eyes.

"Just because he's a friend doesn't mean you should push yourself so hard." Revenant let out.

She look at Revenant as she raised her arms on his neck hugging him. He knew what she meant by this. She closed her eyes placing her face against his chest. He grab Wattson picking her up. She struggled a bit on his grip and placed her hands on his shoulders looking at him.

"I...." Revenant spoke once looking at her and then moving his eyes and face off her walking to her room.

Wattson look at him as he kept walking she closed her eyes placing her face on his chest.

"Care for you..." He let out opening the door.

She made a small smile hearing him.

"?! Goodnight skin suit! You heard nothing!" He drop her on the bed and left hurrying out the door.

Revenant walk off but stop when he saw a familiar happy face located on a screen right in front of wattson's room. His hand sharpen.

"I hope she gets some good nights sleep. Sleep is very useful, do you sleep Revenant?" Pathfinder spoke.

"Shut it." Revenant spoke walking off.

"Are you Natalie's friend?" He ask in a sincere voice.

Revenant kept walking in the hallway where Wattson room was in.

"I think me and Natalie are great friends." His screen smiled showing his feelings.

"Who cares." Revenant turned around trying to go the other way just to avoid him.

"Seems you like her also." Pathfinder spoke.

"Your a robot you don't know what feelings are. The only use for you is entertainment in the arena." Revenant spoke.

Pathfinder look at him as he walk closer.

"I'll be happy to kill you now, but Wattson said no." He spoke walking close to Pathfinder.

Pathfinder look at him in the eyes. Revenant looks at him up close a few feet away.

"You made her stay up late." He spoke.

"So you do care, I'm so glad you made a friend." Pathfinder spoke.

"Shut up!" Revenant walk closer to Pathfinder.

He was inches apart from his face he lifted up his hand.

"I don't care never did! They slow me down. Natalie is just a skin suit who's only useful to me in repairs and in the arena! Shes not a friend!" Revenant look at Pathfinder pissed.

Revenant turned around to walk off but was surprised by Natalie standing there. He look at her in the eyes surprise. Her eyes widen a bit looking down walking off. Pathfinder went to her.

"Natalie don't listen to him." Pathfinder spoke.

She walked into her room and lock the door going inside. Revenant walked off pissed. By the next day Revenant saw all the legends doing there own things. Pathfinder was with Wattson both talking.

"Merci, Path." She smiled.

"No problem friend I got you." He gently pat her head and looking at her.

She held a small little box that Pathfinder gave her. She walk back to work on the upgrades. Revenant walk pass her going to the training arena. As he walk pass her his eyes moved towards her. She held the box tightly walking off closing her eyes.

"Natalie." Revenant spoke once

She hurried leaving not paying attention. Revenant look at her.

After hours Pathfinder went inside while Revenant watched annoyed.

"Thank you Natalie!" Path spoke.

"Happy to help." She smiled.

Pathfinder looked at her and tilt his head.

"Are you sad?" He ask.

"...." She looked at him.

Pathfinder look at her in the eyes.

"I thought.... He cared, I thought me and Revenant where more than friends. Sure he seem like a bad person but I thought he had a good heart somewhere." She spoke.

"Maybe he still does." Pathfinder spoke.

"You heard him he only uses me for repairs he doesn't like me or anything." Wattson look down.

Pathfinder look around the room. His sensors look at the computer showing Revenants upgrade and parts.

"When people are angry they say things they do not mean, right?" Pathfinder looked at her.

"Y..yes?" She look at him.

"He must have been very upset about something?" Pathfinder spoke.

Wattson looked curious scratching her head. Thinking about yesterday.

"What are you working on?" He look at the screen.

"Upgrades for Revenant." She spoke.

"That's very nice i'm sure he would love that." He respond.

Wattson looked down and looked away.  She closed the computer scratching her head.

"Not like he would care." She spoke.

"Come on friend you can't give up."Path screen showed a happy face.

Wattson stood up and made a smile.

"Im not giving up path!" She spoke.

She made a smile and walk off. As she made her way walking searching around. She saw Revenant in the arena stabbing and destroying around 4 dummies. He threw there corpses on the floor and heard Wattson as he turn around they both look at each other in the eyes. 

"I..." They both spoke at the same time.

Wattson walk up to him as he lower his body a bit to her height.

"I want to apologize." He spoke.

Wattson made a smile. He look down at the ground in shame. Wattson grab his hands gently.

"Revenant." She smile.

"I'm jealous alright! No fair you give the happy smiling robot more attention than me!" He look away.

Wattson look surprised that revenant thinks pathfinder is taking a lot of attention and he look at her in the eyes.

"I said things I didn't mean. I'm sorry-?" He spoke before getting cut off.

She pushes his arm to her by doing so his body moved towards her and he she wrap both her arms around him.

"I forgive you." She smile.

Revenant look at Wattson a bit and wrap his arms around her. He hug her and she closed her eyes tightly.

"Don't do it again please." She spoke.

"I won't." He spoke

He felt something and she pulled out of the hug. He tilt his head analyzing what she was doing. She took some measurement on his body.

"What are you planning?" He look.

She walk away hurrying and he followed. She walk smiling cheerful.

"I will work on your upgrades." She smile.

"Don't stay too late." He spoke.

"No promi-?!" She got cut off.

"I'll pick you up myself taking you to bed." He tried to threaten her but it sounded different than how he wanted.

To her eyes he seem flustered, she made a small wink at him happy. He seem to enjoy it. He follow silent behind her walking pass the rooms.

"I won't give up on you." She smile.

Revenant tilt his head confused.  While pathfinder just watch both of them walk pass him. Revenant look at Pathfinder as he made a heart shape of wattson and Revenant on his screen. He ignored him paying attention to Wattson as she spoke about upgrade ideas excited.

[gingerwritess]

WAIT ELLIOT’S GONNA BE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MORGAN?????

ew, no, Morgan Potts-Stark is gross.

And annoying.

(Wait wait wait, this isn’t a hate post at all, keep reading you fool.)

She laughs too loud, she calls him names—especially Elli; “that’s not my name, Morgan”—she laughs when he gets hurt, blames him for things when Tony or Pepper catches them getting into trouble...she’s a pain.

But...as gross and annoying as Morgan is, she is fun, Elliot can’t deny.

You can usually find them sitting at the top of their staircase, eating Uncle Fury’s triangle grilled cheese, waving down to the countless superheroes bustling about with their day-to-day avenging. Most of the time, Morgan is the one doing the talking while Elliot listens intently, eyes wide and sandwich frozen halfway to his mouth.

She teaches him forbidden words, like his new favourite, “shit,” or another one they heard her dad muttering to one of his robots, “asshole.” Morgan knows a whole other language, he’s discovering.

She does things that he’s never seen anyone do. She builds things, purposely breaks her belongings just so she can fix them, she’s loud and dances too much, and she spends too much time smirking to ever smile at him.

She does laugh though, often, and most of the time at him.

And she knows, like, everything.

It’s a little intimidating.

* * * *

“Who’s that?”

“That’s the sad hobo from the fourth floor,” Morgan explains, following Elliot’s finger to the man falling asleep in an armchair. “Dad says he’s been alive over a hundred years!”

“Why’s he got a metal arm??” Elliot presses his face to the balcony railing, eyes wide as he stares.

“Bad guys. My dad said they were real bad.”

“Woah.”

Morgan grins at him for a moment, pride worming its way into her little heart at knowing more than him.

Then she taps Elliot on the shoulder and points at Thor. “Wanna know something about him?”

“I know that one, dummy, that’s my uncle.” Elliot rolls his eyes and scoots closer.

“Well duh. But did you know he’s stronger than Mr. Hulk??”

Elliot claps a hand over his mouth with a gasp—Thor hears and glances up at the two kids, flashing them a smile and a wave.

“No way,” Elliot whispers, giving his uncle a tiny wave back. “Nobody’s stronger than Mr. Hulk. ‘Cept my dad, but—”

“Um, I don’t think so.” Morgan turns around with a giggle to make sure your office door is almost closed, keeping their conversation private from you and Loki inside. “C’mere.”

She waves him over and cups her hand by her mouth, leaning in to whisper in Elliot’s ear.

“Mr. Hulk beat your daddy into a pulp one time.”

“That’s not true!”

“Sure is,” she giggles, waving down at the doctor in question who just walked in, thankfully not...well, green. “My dad told me he ruined your dad’s mon-uh-logue, they musta been playing a game or somethin’. Dad said it was the funniest thing he’s ever seen in his life—”

“That’s not very nice.” Elliot frowns and crosses his little arms. “Well, did you know my dad threw your dad out a window one time?”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh.” His chest deflates and Morgan giggles.

“You’ve got a sad face.” She pokes a finger into his cheek. “Stop it.”

Your son shakes his head, for some reason wishing he could run into that meeting and just...give his dad a hug.

I think they both need it.

“C’mon,” Morgan pleads, shaking his arm, “stop being sad. Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop—”

An inevitable smile starts to tug at his lips. “Stop bein’ annoying, then.”

“Can’t.” She shrugs and starts poking him in the tummy. “Not ‘till you’re done being sad.”

Within seconds, Pepper is stopping the corporate meeting you’re in to poke her head out the door and shush the two shrieking kids rolling around at the top of a staircase, a full fledged tickle-war underway.

* * * *

Elliot learns a lot from her. Stuff his books could never teach him—at least, not the books he reads. Like AC/DC; Elliot had no idea that words could be so loud.

He decides he likes it. Rock and roll. He likes listening to it at the top of the staircase with earbuds in—one in her ear, the other in his—the music so loud that he squints with each drum beat as they watch the weird people their parents work with bustling about the compound.

Morgan always insists on having the left earbud. He never argues or asks why.

One day she lets him have the left earbud for one song, something by a band called Guns ‘n Roses, and he nearly calls her an asshole when she turns the music up all the way.

The left earbud is louder. “More bass,” she explains when she’s done laughing. She takes it back and unpauses the song.

She doesn’t flinch at the music.

Morgan is stronger than he guessed.

She once told him that the guitar is her favourite part of the music—that night at dinner he announced he wants to learn how to play guitar.

If Morgan likes it, it’s probably a good thing to know.

He doesn’t catch the small smile you and Loki share when you agree.

Elliot is terrible at it, he quickly discovers, and he gives it up after only a couple lessons. Not, of course, before Morgan finds out and makes him play her a shakily picked out rendition of the intro to Sweet Child of Mine about seven times.

Each time he tries, she claps and smiles and laughs and he beams, glad that finally, he did something she was impressed by.

She has everything. She’s good at everything—like when she picked up guitar a week after he gave up and was playing entire songs within days.

It’s annoying.

Morgan is annoying.

Even more annoying when they’re in high school and she won’t admit she hates him.

Growing up together, Elliot always had a tiny grip on her feelings, her emotions, could always tell when she wasn’t herself.

When she was almost ten, she figured out that maybe her little black-haired friend wasn’t just a good guesser when she would quiz him about herself. Elliot could guess more than her favourite colour, favourite animal, food; the basic stuff.

He started being able to guess when she had a restless night, when she was mad at her parents, when she needed to get out of her head. How she felt in a good moment, where she feels most at peace. When she’s in a situation and wants a way out.

At first it made her uncomfortable.

Elliot could tell, naturally, and stopped spending time with her for a few weeks.

He avoided her at all costs, kept his head down when he had to walk by her in the compound, did everything he could to start controlling this third eye.

Except talk to Loki. He came to you at one point, almost in tears because Morgan said he was “kinda weird,” and you told him that he should talk to his father about this, too. After all, he would be the only one who might have a single clue about what Elliot is going through.

But he won’t, he won’t talk to Loki about it, for some reason he doesn’t want to bring it up.

Their abilities and for lack of a better word, magic, have always been something that brought the two of them closer. Never was a problem, was never weird—

Tony and Pep apparently had a talk with Morgan, judging from the stern frowns and the tear stained face of Morgan when they showed up on your doorstep to apologise.

“You’re not weird,” she choked out. “I’m sorry, Elli, you’re not weird, you’re my friend and I’m so, so sorry.”

He didn’t correct her, you noticed, for calling him Elli.

Morgan Potts-Stark is annoying—and gross—and...well, it’s a pretty dress.

It’s blue.

Soft looking, satin-y, draping down her back, and she feels unstoppable. Elliot can tell; this surge of confidence (he’s guessing it’s coming from wearing the heels), she’s never felt this sure of herself.

It’s weird, watching her walk down their staircase. They don’t sit up there much anymore. Sometimes Elliot will, he’ll make his own sandwich (unless Fury is there, of course) and take his homework, grab a book, and sit at the top of the staircase until you and Loki are ready to go home.

Morgan doesn’t sit with him much anymore. She has a workshop that she likes to hide in, and Elliot’s only been down there once.

As much as he tells himself it’s not because he’s in her head, she’s just busy, there’s a nagging thought that just won’t go away that maybe she’s back to avoiding him.

She’s going to homecoming; only her first year of high school and she got a date to the dance. Tony, of course, had everyone in the compound stand by the foot of the staircase to watch her grand entrance—she deserves it, Elliot thinks, when everyone starts applauding and she blushes deep red.

Elliot isn’t going to the dance. Same high school...different experience.

He chose not to go, said he didn’t want to. Said that crowded rooms hurt his head, they’re too loud, too full, too busy.

You and Loki take him and Frigg out for ice cream. Elliot doesn’t seem too bothered to be missing such an event; he carries Frigg on his back and lets her eat half his ice cream, shoving his hands in his pockets when they start turning blue.

The four of you watch a movie when you get home, the usual dogpile on Loki. Elliot seems happy; he’s smiling, laughing, has his head on Loki’s shoulder and occasionally stops to tickle Frigg when she tries to push him out of his spot.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes.

There’s a couple texts waiting to be opened. From Morgan.

“Guess what the theme of the dance is...winter wonderland. In September?? Made me think of you, frosty!”

His hands are still blue and patchy. He pushes them deeper in his pockets.

Loki notices and presses his lips to his son’s forehead. “Don’t,” he whispers, smiling softly. “We love you. Don’t.”

Frigg takes advantage of Elliot’s distraction and wedges her little self right between the two of them with a proud fit of giggles.

His phone vibrates again and he glances at it—Morgan again.

“Someone is trying to sing a karaoke Sweet Child of Mine. HELP.”

“Seriously, I’ll take your guitar version over this ANY day.”

He can’t help it and smiles down at his phone.

“OoooOOO!!” Frigg pokes him with a squeal. “Are you talking to a girl??”

He scowls and shoves a pillow in his sister’s face. “Shut it, Frigg.”

“You gonna date her??” Frigg can’t stop giggling, fighting against the pillow and trying to reach Elliot’s phone. “Gonna kiss her?! Mom!! Elli’s gotta girlfriend, Elli’s gotta girlfriend—”

“Shut up!” A pillow smacks Frigg across the face and Elliot tackles the little girl, shoving handfuls of snow down her shirt as she shrieks with laughter and tries to fight back.

Morgan?? His girlfriend? Oh, please, that’ll never happen.

Morgan Potts-Stark is gross.

And annoying.

Remember?

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

since i’m on mobile it wouldn’t let me tag like half of you on this post, sorry folks!!!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @belladonnabarnes @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted

[bonkers-4-hatter]

Eustass Kidd X !Chunky Reader - Relaxing On The Water

I’m back! It’s been a very hectic past weeks, but I’m back and getting things up and rolling again! This was a commission for a lovely dear and I enjoyed writing a sort of softer part of Kidd’s usually hard exterior. 

--

It was a lazy day on the sea. Everything was silent and peaceful, for once. It did make some of the crew uneasy, but after your reassuring words they settled down and actually relaxed for once.

Kidd on the other hand was feeling a bit restless and you could tell. Hell, even tinkering with what he had in his workshop didn’t even settle him down. Killer was even relaxing up on the deck with the others. You sighed as you stared at Kidd as he continued to curse and throw various objects in his workshop. You had to get him to calm down and unwind.

You knew from the past two or so weeks, he’s been really tense and even more erratic than before. Being with him for the past two years, you were the only one that could calm him down, it was like your superpower and you loved it. Walking fully into his workshop, you wrapped your arms around him from behind and nuzzled your face into his back.

“What the hell (Y/N), I’m working here!”

Scoffing, you continued to nuzzle into his strong back. “Yeah, I can see you working really hard, throwing all your shit around.”

Kidd only growled at your words, but did nothing to pry your arms off of him. With a grunt, he turned around in your arms so you were nuzzling his toned stomach instead of his back. Staring up at him, he had a scowl on his face as usual, but, he also sported a nice blush on his face as his arms came around and settled on your plush waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh a bit. It was something he did a lot with you. It was sort of his way to relax a little.

“Come on Kidd, let’s go to our room and relax…everyone else is at ease and I know you’ve been a bit tense lately. Tell me what you want to do to relax.”

You ran your hands up and down his back, the muscles that were all tense, easing up a bit at your soft touch.

“Can we cuddle?” Kidd whispered his question and he avoided eye contact with you all together. You smiled at his bashful attitude. He always did that when he showed you his soft side and you loved it.

“Of course we can, we can do whatever you want.” As soon as you said those words, his usual devilish smirk came back full force. Without another word, Kidd wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up and over his shoulder.

“Kidd! I can fucking walk, you bastard!” You pounded on his back a bit, but that did nothing but elicit a chuckle from the red headed pirate. Saying nothing back to your words, Kidd made his way out with you slung over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. Even though you were a chunky gal with extra flesh and rolls on you, Kidd never minded, he actually enjoyed your figure and weight. He could be rougher with you when he wanted and didn’t have to worry about hurting you.

You didn’t mind being carried like this though, it made you feel light and dainty for once. However, with Kidd you always felt tiny and dainty, even though you knew you weren’t and you were fine with that.

You were brought back to reality as the sound of the door being kicked open broke your thoughts. You let out a squeal as Kidd threw you onto the bed, your body bouncing up and down a few times before coming to a stop.

Your eyes glanced over at Kidd who was just staring at you while licking his lips, his eyes roaming your body.

“I thought you wanted to cuddle…unless you have something else in mind.” Raising a brow up at your boyfriend he only bit his lip before shedding what clothing he had, leaving him in his boxers. You let out a scream as he jumped on the bed, caging you in his arms a possessive growl leaving his lips.

“I do, but now that you bring it up, we can do that after.” With that said, he started to tug at your shirt and shorts, getting his point across as you broke away from his grasp and sat up in the bed. Whenever you both cuddled, it was always either nude or in your undergarments. It was always more comfy for you both and you both enjoyed that skin to skin contact. Even though Kidd had a scary exterior, you knew the real Kidd and he was as sweet as pie and you were the only one to know about that.

Discarding your shirt, you threw it in a random direction and shimmed out of your pants and throwing them too, your eyes locked on Kidd’s the whole time.

Nipping your neck, Kidd’s large hands skimmed down your soft waist, gripping your full hips and promptly flipping you over so you were on top as usual during your cuddle sessions; well, at least at the beginning anyways. He liked to have you on top because your weight felt good on him and softness of your skin and body brought him a sense of comfort.

His hands continued to glide along the curves, dips and rolls of your body, taking his time with it and enjoying the feeling of what you had to offer. All the while, you had your head propped up on his chest, your eyes soaking in all of Kidd’s soft features. He was finally beginning to unwind and relax.

His brow which was usually scrunched up all the time was for once not, the lines of his forehead gone for the moment and the look in his eyes, there was no anger or frustration, just an easiness that you wish he had more often. Although, the most drastic change was the small smile he adorned on his face. It was very rare that Kidd had a smile on his face and when he did, you cherished it and wished it would last forever.

He told you once that there were few things that made him genunily smile and that short list consisted of his crew and yourself. Not being able to resist the urge anymore, you leaned up and gave Kidd a short kiss and even started to pepper chaste kisses down the slope of his neck.

“I knew you wanted to fuck.” His hands gripped your round ass as he started to suck on your supple neck intending to leave marks for everyone to see.

Giggling, you pushed on his chest to push yourself up and straddle his waist. Even with the position change, his hands gravitated toward your ass once more, gripping the soft flesh he adored.

“Hey now, I’m here to cuddle, like you wanted and what I’m really enjoying right now is how relaxed and calm you are right now…I don’t get to see you like this very often so I’m soaking it in.”

His hands moved up your back and slid around to grip your hips. “Oh, so you’ve been staring at me now huh?” He joked as his thumbs rubbed miniature circles into your soft hips. You only nodded as a squeal emitted from your throat as he moved you both to the side making you both lay down facing each other.

Circling yours arms around his neck, you pulled him down as your lips met his in a heated kiss. Teeth clashing and tongues intertwining with one another. It was a kiss full of pent up emotions, being on the sea for so long and not having time for one another. Your soft stomach rubbed against his toned one, the friction from the drastically different body types causing you both to moan out in delight.

Breaking your lip lock, Kidd smiled down at you, another rare sight and soon, he nuzzled his face into your neck, no nips or bites, just pure fluffy, loving nuzzles. He was coming down from his horny state to the state you were trying to get him to in the first place.

His arms went up to circle around your body and pulled you closer to his body. A peaceful quiet fell across you both as one of your hands started to gently stroke his back, the tenseness of it slowly coming undone as you continued your gentle touches on the area. The other hand raked through his fiery hair as a content moan slipped through his chapped lips, the sound vibrating against your neck causing you to giggle at the tickling sensation.

You both stayed that way for a good while, nothing but both of your breathing and peaceful silence that occupied the room and air around you both. It was nice, something you both weren’t used to, but would like more of. Your eyes glided down Kidd’s body, or at least what you could see with how you were laying. The gentle up and down motion of his back brought you a sense of ease as you slowly let your eyes slide shut, breathing in and out a few times to ease yourself too.

“Doesn’t this feel good Kidd?”  

The only answer you got was a grunt as he moved his head from the crook of your neck, down to your chest, settling his head in the middle of your breasts, but an annoyed look crossed his face, his eyes sliding up to meet yours.

“Take it off (Y/N), it’s annoying.” You scoffed at his demand, but complying with his words, the hand that was stroking his back left its position and went behind your back and unclasped the flimsy garment as you shimmed out of it, with Kidd’s help of course as your bra was promptly thrown behind the pirate. Without another word, Kidd laid his head back down on your now exposed chest, placing a kiss to each breast before going back to his original pose on your soft chest.

“Thank you (Y/N).” Kidd broke the long, comfy silence with those words that made you raise a brow.

“Thank you for what Kidd?” You were genuinely confused by his words. You racked your brain trying to figure out why he would be telling you thank you at a time like this, but you couldn’t come up with anything. A large hand cupping your round cheek brought you out of your daydreaming state as you looked down at Kidd who miraculously still had a soft smile on his lips.

“Being here with me, being as fucking stubborn as me and rolling along with all my shit…I know I’m not the best when it comes to showing you my emotions, but I want you to know I love you…so fucking much.”

The seriousness in his voice made you stay still as you soaked up every single word he said. Biting you lip, you tried to come up with a response, but you couldn’t come up with anything.

Without a word, you straddling his hips once more, flipping Kidd over so he was on his back, a look of astonishment came across his face before it morphed into his signature smirk. Leaning down, your lips brushed against his lightly, barely kissing him as your hips started to buck against his making him grunt out in response.

Pulling away slightly, you were still so close to Kidd, the hot breath of his fanning your own lips.

“I love you too Kidd, more than you know. I know you love me, it’s okay that you’re not open with your emotions, your actions show me that you care for me…Kidd you’re the best, you’re the best I’ve ever had, the best everything to me honestly and I hope you enjoy me because you’re not getting rid of me.”

With that said, you crashed your lips against his as the quiet room was filled with moans and groans of pleasure and the air became hot with passion. The crew didn’t dare go to the captain’s door due to the noises emitting from the room, noises that could be heard all the way above the deck.

[lowkeyhockey]

kiss me once (you know i had a long night) - freddie andersen

Prompt: Do you have any idea who you just pissed off?

Pairing: Freddie Andersen/Single Mother!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sexual activity

Word Count: 1.9k

Writer’s Notes: Shoutout to my first fic! It’s a oneshot that’s going to be part of a bigger verse titled Can I Go (Where You Go) featuring [Y/N], a single mother, Lila, your five year old daughter, and Freddie Andersen - a man very happy to be dragged along for the ride. Each oneshot fic can be read as a standalone, and the fics won’t have the same rating/warnings, so make sure you check! Thanks so much for reading, and please hmu if you have a prompt/request/critique!

Summary: Someone went to bed a little angry, someone’s utterly exhausted, and someone (probably) needs a cold shower. But hey, we all have our problems 8D

"Do you have any idea who you just pissed off?" 

 Even his famous goalie reflexes couldn't save him from the dinosaur stuffie you threw at his face - and if you were thinking more rationally you'd realise that he'd let you play target practice to let your frustrations out, but you weren't, so you didn't. Still, you couldn't help the slight smile that grew (despite your best efforts) on your face just from watching the bear slowly slide down, its wide, pearly white grin replaced by Freddie's furrowed brow like a real life slide transition.

 But then, seeing Freddie's face usually made you smile. It was kind of a hazard of the job. Maybe someone stronger, someone more used to seeing the kind of gentle concern Freddie currently had in his eyes, might have been better equipped against his face, especially considering the year and a half you'd been together. 

 Someone else might have built up an immunity, or allowed familiarity to breed contempt. But for you, both scenarios were impossible things - more science fiction than possibility - and your poor daughter was suffering for it. 

 Of course, what you called suffering someone else might consider sleeping in her bed, all five years and two hours of her completely turned off from the world, pudgy little arms wrapped around a Carlton the Bear bear Freddie had gotten for her before he'd gone on his roadie. 

 The fact that Carlton had replaced Barney - your birthday present for Lila from last year - in her bed had nothing to do with your using Barney as a makeshift weapon. Nope. You were just doing what every single single mother quickly learned to do - that was, use every single tool in her arsenal to get the job done. 

 Poor Freddie had had to be reminded of it the hard way, the reminder coming barely seconds after he himself had walked through the front door, as quiet about it as thief - or a dad coming home at two am, long after he'd promised his little girl he'd be home. 

 He caught Barney with both hands before the stuffie could hit the ground, left his luggage bag by the door as he walked to you, holding the toy out like a peace offering. God, but he looked gorgeous this way - red hair tousled like he'd ran his hands through it out of frustration a time or ten, those large hands of his dwarfing the toy, his game day suit rumpled in a way that begged you to go and take it off for him. You'd be doing both of you, not to mention the suit, a favour, really. 

More than one suit’s been found with a button missing after Freddie’s had to undress himself, with you waiting for him in your shared bed.

 Freddie in a suit was a sight meant to set your heart racing. Freddie freshly out of a suit - even the idea of it  should probably have sent you into cardiac arrest by now. The fact that you were still standing, still giving him that tired half-smile masquerading as a frown, was probably something of a medical miracle. 

 But then, since meeting Freddie, you'd never managed to forget exactly how lucky you are. 

Lila wasn't allowed to leave her toys lying around and Freddie usually kept to the rule too, and this time he dropped Barney into the toy bin against the wall before he filled his arms with you instead - holding on so tight that you could imagine, for a few seconds, that he was never going to let go. It was nice to dream that he wouldn't, to relax against his solid warmth, to rest your forehead against his shoulder. 

 You couldnt hug him back - his arms were too tight around you, held you too close, and you wanted to tease him about the way he seemed to deliberately keep you from grabbing onto any more weapons - but you couldn't do that, either. 

 Not when he leaned down to brush his lips against your hair, then your temple, then the high point of your cheekbone, sliding down your jaw as though dying for a taste of each last inch of you. He'd pulled far enough away from you by then for you to rest a palm against his chest, huffing out his name and - again - trying to sound more annoyed than amused and - again - failing, and the next time his lips landed against your skin you could feel the way they were twisted into a smile. 

 Solid, stoic Freddie Andersen could barely kiss his girl without breaking out into a grin - you grinned yourself then to feel it, to imagine the way his boys would (and have) hoot in laughter to see it, and that was maybe the signal Freddie needed - the next time his lips landed on you, they landed squarely against your own, his tongue brushing against your lower lip until you relented and allowed him to kiss you more deeply. 

 Allowed him to make you lose your mind, in other words, stealing your breath and making you forget you had a kindergartner in the room right off your living room, the soft glide of his tongue against yours making you wish for his tongue to slide - just as smooth - elsewhere. He knew all of your favourite spots. 

Freddie was the one to pull away, thumb brushing at your lips until you realised you were pouting up at him. Though whether that was because of his late arrival, or Carlton, or the fact that he'd stopped kissing you was up for debate. Come to think of it, there was a lot he needed to make up to you for. 

 "You?" he asked, voice coming out sleep-rough, the one word coming out as half-an exhalation against your lips - making you wish, again, that he was kissing you, would keep kissing you, would let you kiss him all over. 

 But then, communication was - you've been told - a healthy part of any relationship.  

 And his still-furrowed brow look was filled with enough hope to make you laugh aloud, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. "You wish you'd pissed me off," you shoot back, tilting your head to Lila's bedroom door. "She knew you weren't going to make it to her birthday. She's fine with that. But we both hoped you'd be back in time to tuck her in. That was her last night as a five year old." 

 "Okay, but she's been telling everyone she's six for five months now."

 You laugh again, this time at the attack on your daughter - what a mother you are. But Freddie was smiling too, the crease in his brow fading away at the sound of your laughter, so maybe it was okay. By this point, Freddie was almost as much of a parent as you are - god knows he's read more books on the subject than you ever did. 

 "You believed her," you pointed out, curling the fingers of the hand you still had against his chest - a tool at your disposal, ready for use - and pulling him down until you could kiss him again. He allowed you three brief pecks, each time teasing, chuckled low in his chest when you let out a frustrated groan. 

 "Greedy," he chided, and you were just about to tell him exactly how greedy he makes you feel when he tilts his head to Lila's door, looking - again - like someone had had to put down a dog, and it was somehow his fault. 

 Freddie tended to take the whole world onto his shoulders - he did it with his team, he did it with his friends, and he did it with your family - the family he insisted to the world was his, with every little thing he ever did. 

 Like take Lila to family skate, patiently teaching her how to take baby steps and how to get up each time she fell, until she was racing across the ice (while you watched from the entrance to the ice, heart in your throat) by the end of the day. Like stay with you through your last, short stay at the hospital, only leaving to check on Lila at her grandparents' and bring you back illicit treats and fresh clothes. Like book his own seat, in a commercial flight, because the team plane wasn't heading back to Toronto until the day after Lila's birthday.

Was it his faul the plane had been delayed? No. But Lila had been upset that he hadn't gotten back in time for a bedtime story, and Freddie had been upset because he'd planned on surprising Lils at her birthday party, and you'd been upset because 

a) the two people you loved most in the world were unhappy, and

b) you missed him. 

 So when you murmured "five days is way too long for you to be gone," he understood, and believed you, pulling you closer into the curve of his body again. You didn't mean - you never meant - to sound as though you resented his schedule; what mattered was that he came back, and he always did. 

 "She'll probably forgive you when you surprise her with pancakes in bed tomorrow," you told him, and he makes a soft humming sound as though considering it - as though he wasn't already on planning on that, and to use his free day tomorrow to take Lila wherever she wanted - like the zoo. Or an art museum. Or a build-a-bear workshop. See how Carlton likes getting replaced. 

 It was maybe a little mean to talk Freddie into getting out of bed before Lila, who was, in her tiny, infernal heart of hearts the worst kind of morning person, but you knew by then that if Freddie didn't have some kind of way to make amends he'd do more and more ridiculous things out of guilt. That was how Lila had ended up with her own personal bouncy castle last summer - and the castle's still standing, in a room at Freddie's house he's not going to get back until Lila hits middle school at least.

 The smile he gives you, eyes all wrinkled in the corners, is enough to make you feel like a superhero and a Disney villain in one. 

 "Pancakes for the little princess, and for my princess?" he asked, and no matter how many times he's called you that you still blush, just a little, just enough for him to unwind one arm around you to chase the colour with his thumb. 

 "We don't have time for a scene tonight, but maybe tomorrow, hm? I'll get Lila nice and sugared first, then work that energy off at the park or something, and then we'll foist her off onto your parents." 

 You nod then, then, tilt your head back for one last kiss, and this time he gives it to you. The next kiss, he presses against your forehead before he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. The last one, before you fall asleep, you feel pressed into your hand as he brings it up to his lips, the murmured "I love you" he said to you in Danish understandable only because he's said it so many times. 

 Unlike your poor little daughter, you fall asleep content. 

[purplellamanator]

12 Day's of Christmas - Secret Santa Fanfiction

Alright, I know Japan isn´t known for celebrating Christmas as some of us might know it, but I wanted to do something really Christmas’y for you and since it’s a celebration for couples in Japan I thought It would be nice. I might have toyed with some western tradition as well. Hope you still like it and it’ll fulfill your Christmas wish! As you might already know I’ve chosen HeijixKazuha from the couples you mentioned the and decided that they finally get a confession… even if Heiji still has to struggle a little (a lot). Oh and the last parts isn´t beta readed yet~ Sorry ^^,

I hope you’ll like it! Have a happy and merry Christmas dear PurpleLlamanator

Your secret Santa Shelling Ford xxx

 __________

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me A murder in a café.

The first snow had started to fall and the soft flakes that slowly coated the city suddenly turned into a heavy snow storm that threw Osaka into chaos. The traffic broke down and the people were fleeing the streets, searching for cover wherever they found it. So they end up, cold and shivering, in a crowded café dripping wet, before they finally found a tiny table for two. Heiji cursed and unwrapped the green scarf from his neck.

“That storm is madness! We’ll be frozen before we get home- and ta end up here of all places,” he grumbled, looking through the tiny cafè that wasn´t only filled with people but it seemed that each free space was covered in Christmas décor of all colors and well - tastes. Between candy canes and Christmas trees were deers in multiple colors (but all of them covered in a ton of glitter), big baubles in cupcake décor and was that a purple pig with a crown? Of course, the storm had to shoo them into this wannabe winter-wonder-land.

Heiji shuddered, partly because he could still feel the cold in his clothes and partly because he felt like sitting inside what must look like a crazy Santa-Claus workshop. With a sigh, he turned to Kazuha, who - to be honest - was the main reason for them being here. She had been shivering from head to toe and while she claimed that she loved the snow and would be happy to walk through a storm like this (crazy as that is) he simply couldn’t bear her trembling any longer. Looking at her now, he could see that it had been he right decision. Her lips had turned from a light blue back to a cherry red, her cheeks were still blushed from the cold wind, and her hair was wet, sparkling in the colorful light of the café. With shining bright eyes and a smile on her lips, her eyes wandered through the room.

“Isn´t that tha most beautiful place, Heiji?!”

“Uh-“ His first reaction was to ask her if she had suddenly gone blind and stupid at the same time, but her eyes, reflecting the thousands of Christmas lights around them, stopped him.

‘Tha most beautiful, huh-?’

Of course, Kazuha loved the foreign traditions, the lights, the decorations and everything… she had declared that it was her favorite season and well… he had to admit that she looked beautiful in the colorful surroundings. So beautiful that a lump formed in his throat. He would tell her about- the thing. Now or… at least during this season, but now would be nice, would be perfect if she loved this place so much, and suddenly the crowded café seemed empty, the decoration and lights well placed and warm, perfect even.

“K-Kazuha listen, I-“

But a scream stopped him mid-sentence.

Heiji froze, his eye twitching slightly while Kazuha had already left her seat, to see if she could help, but there wasn't much she could do.

“Someone call an ambulance!”

One screamed, while someone else declared that it was already too late. 

“Oh my God, he’s dead!”

“What’ya waiting for! Come on!” Kazuha’s order ripped him from his thoughts, his cheeks burning, like she’d just caught him doing something he wasn't allowed to. He just stared up at her, while she was waiting for him to move.

“But- a-alright.”

And with a sigh he made his way through the crowded and over-decorated place in order to solve the murder in the little café.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Two hours of frostbite, And a murder in a café!

The wind was icy, but at least the sun was shining, so it seemed that everything went according to plan. He had one month of her favorite season to tell her… that he, kind of liked her - well she knew that of course. They were friends since they knew each other, but well - he liked her more than that, you know like really – oh well, anyway, even with his bad luck it should be possible to confess within a whole month. To find the right spot, time and setting - somehow.

Today, he’d chosen Osaka castle park. The snow was still fresh and clean, so that the whole place looked like it was covered in clouds. He was waiting on one of the bridges and due to the cold wind it seemed like they would have this place for themselves. The water below was frozen, but the ice was still thin so he could see tiny bubbles dancing beneath the thin layer, like hundreds of tiny dancing couples along with the flow of the river.

He’d chosen a spot where they could see the sundown when the white snow would turn into a warm orange and a soft rosé. A smile found its way to his lips, together with a slight blush. Heiji huffed and pushed his hands deeper into his pockets. Kazuha was late, even if she always blamed it on him when they weren‘t on time, he knew that it wasn't unusual for her to take a little longer. While the frostbite was already nipping on his nose, he forced himself to wait and enjoy the view.

Well… that was two hours ago.

Two hours of frostbite crawling through his clothes and icy wind blowing in his face.

His toes felt like they were about to roll around in his shoes all by themselves. Well, Heiji could only guess that was what they felt like, because they were mostly frozen by now. The detective’s nose and cheeks were bright red from the cold, nearly glowing in the darkening light. He cursed with chattering teeth.

“Where tha heck is that woman!?”

With numb fingers, he pulled his mobile from his pocket to call Kazuha.

“Hey, Heiji what-“ but her welcoming words were disturbed by his annoyed question.

“Where are ya?”

“What?” The high schooler was confused.

“What are ya talking ‘bout?” However, the fact that Kazuha had forgotten about their date let the corner of his mouth twitch in frustration.

“Our… meeting in tha Castle Park?”

“Huh? But ya told me ta meet ya there tomorrow…” she told him with an audible frown, so that Heiji finally exploded.

 “Idiot! That was today!” he yelled.

“Who are ya callin’ an idiot, ya idiot! Ya even texted me tha day and time again, remember?“

“Yeah, ta meet ya here today.”

“No. Tomorrow. Check your messages, ya blockhead.” With that she hung up, leaving him listening to a dead line.

“Oi, Kazuha! Kazuha!” Hattori cursed and switched back to the latest massage he’d send her.

“Darn it! I’m sure she- oh.”

He’d given her the wrong date, or was it him being too early?

“Oh boy…” Heiji sighed - well it was his fault and with her being cranky like that (why did he even like that testy girl?!) he would have to come up with something real good next time.

The Osakan shook his head and looked back to the bright red and blue glowing sky, while the world around him was aflame in a warm and shimmering golden light.

Something real good.  

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Three stolen purses, Two hours of frostbite, And a murder in a café!

Today was the day, he’d planned it well. He’d found a Christmas market, with little stores selling candy, hot drinks, Christmas trees and baubles besides other rather unnecessary stuff, all bright and colorful – Kazuha would love it. And she did, but other people seemed to like it, too… that was the fault in his plan - there were just too many people. Kazuha still enjoyed the strange market but - it was far from what he would call a date, or romantic or anything like that.

They made their way through the crowd to a little candy store beneath a giant maple tree that was illuminated by fairy lights. He got himself a coffee while Kazuha was trying to choose something from the store. It had started to snow again, but luckily it wasn’t a storm, at least not yet. The soft, icy crystals floated to the earth, glowing in the multiple light of the fairy lights and multiple stores and it seemed like they’d finally found a spot, that wasn’t too crowded.

He blew on the warm coffee in his hands and tried a sip, before the warm white frog from his cup revealed his childhood love, wearing a bright smile. He blushed beneath his green-white woolen hat, but shook his head briefly, eying the candy in her hand.

“What’s that?”

“A candy apple.” Heiji nodded, frowning at the apple, coated in a layer of bright red sugar.

“It tastes great,” Kazuha announced, taking another bite, but the detective was all fixed on the cherry red color of her lips.

“Ah…” he gulped, eyes still on Kazuha’s soft and sweet lips.

“… I’m sure it does.” He murmured, still staring, so that he didn't noticed Kazuha’s confused look, before she waved her hand in front of his face, taking a step closer to him as she did so.

“Hello, earth to Heiji, what are ya mumbling?” He blinked, ripped from his day dream only to find her standing only one step in front of him, her lips still tinted in an inviting red, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her eyes sparkling, reflecting the fairy lights all around them. Heiji blushed rather flustered.

“Well, I wanted to-“ he stammered, his voice breaking when he tried to form a sentence, so he tried again, taking a final step closer to her.

“I want to tell you-“

“My purse! Help! He got my purse!“ The scream made them both jump, before a guy rushed past them, clearly the thief on the run.

“Oh- ya’ve gotta be kidding me,” Heiji groaned, but already started to hunt after the man.

“Kazuha, call tha police, I’ll be right back,” he called, before he stopped by another couple, grabbing the umbrella they carried to use it as a improvised kendo sword.

“Can I borrow that for a second? Thank ya!”

When he finally reached the guy, it seemed like the thief had stolen not only one but three purses that night, and he might have also earned more than one bruise due to the detective‘s date, that was ruined… again.

On the forth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Four eyes to visit, Three stolen purses, Two hours of frostbite, And a murder in a café!

This day wasn't going according to plan. Not at all! He had planned to go ice-skating with Kazuha, and now Tokyo’s biggest murder magnet, the angel of death, body dropping guy was sitting between the girls playing the sweet little kid.

They had chosen a self-serving restaurant, offering a giant buffet, with a nice view on the streets of Osaka.

“Alright, who’s up for a desert?” Kazuha asked and pushed herself from her seat along with Ran, who followed with a hesitating smile herself.

“Ya and Neechan go, Ku- kiddo and I are skipping tha sugar today.” Heiji let himself slip deeper into the bench, making it clear that he wasn't about to come along.

“Actually-“ But Conan’s the objection was stopped with a cold glare from the detective of the west.

“Ah no, but thank you, Kazuha-neechan,” Conan chirped with his kiddy smile.

“We’ll wait here, just go,“ Heiji murmured, so that Kazuha nodded and Ran turned to Conan with a warm smile.

“Alright, we’ll be right back.”

Shinichi watched them both go, before a cold voice forced his attention back to his friend.

“Go away.”

“What? What the heck is wrong with you, Hattori?!”

“’s nothing…” the Osakan grumbled, but Kudo’s raised eyebrow was making it clear that he wasn't buying it. Shinichi could see his friend chewing the bottom of his lip, before he finally mumbled something, avoiding his eyes all the time.

“Just… me trying to-  well, sort things out and now ya here, with ya all too perfect romantic British confession.”

“Huh?” The boy’s glassed nearly slipped from his nose in surprise, so he had to push it back, before he finally answered.

“So that’s what it’s all about, you’re trying to confess to Kazuha?” He questioned, with a knowing smirk. ‘Again’

Hattori just blushed, turning his gaze away from the boy.

“Well – yeah and ya‘re not helping,“ Heiji grumbled, before Conan rolled his eyes.

“Damn Hattori, this isn't a competition and besides…” he stopped with a sigh, staring holes in the table now.

“My confession was far from perfect, or planned. Damn, we screamed at each other, she was crying and I compared love to a stupid number, before I  had to leave her again,” he remembered with rather mixed feelings, before a blush found its way to his cheeks.

“And Kyoto… well that was nice, but the moment was ruined again…” He took a deep breath, looking up at his friend again, with a fond smile. 

“So, no matter what you’re going to do, you already won, since you don't have to leave her.”

There was a second of silence between them and Heiji suddenly had the feeling that he’d ben rather unfair – but before he could say anything, Kudo started talking again, with a smirk on his lips.

“Besides, when I planned to tell her it was a total failure, you know that. I had to solve a murder instead,” Kudo reminded him with a dry chuckle.

“Yeah, I know.” Heiji massaged the bridge of his nose, he knew that just too well.

“Just tell her everything and you’ll see it’ll turn out alright,” the boy told him with a knowing smile, which made Heiji raise a questioning eyebrow.

“What are ya - Dr. Love?”

“Oi, I’m just trying to help,” Shinichi objected with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Alright, I know, sorry,” he surrendered with a smile.

“I will try to tell her again as soon as this dark omen hovering over the city is gone,” Heiji announced, but the kid just gave him a questioning look, so the detective was nice enough to clarify his statement with a smirk.

“Namely, you.”

“What!? Come on, I’m not worse than you,” Shinichi huffed in annoyance.

“I beg to differ.”

“You-“

But before the boy’s banter went too far, the girls finally returned, plates full of sweet desserts of all sorts.

“Here we are,” Ran announced, retaking her place beside Conan, while Kazuha was doing the same next to Heiji.

“What have ya two been talking ‘bout?” But her question was answered from both detectives at the same time.

“Nothing”

Later, when they had said goodbye and their friends were already back on their way to Tokyo, Heiji was laying on his bed, reading when his mobile suddenly chirmed, announcing a text message. The detective took the device reading the name of the messenger, before he opened the text.

‘It’s from Kudo.’

Good Luck

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Five bloody noses, Four eyes to visit, Three stolen purses, Two hours of frostbite, And a murder in a café!

The scent of lilies reached his nose and made him smile. He was supposed to meet her at home, her dad was still at work, so they had the place for themselves in order to finish their school project. Heiji thought that the place and time was as good as any and to be honest, at least they should be safe from murders, thieves and what else. But in order to make it a little romantic, he’d decided to get some flowers, what took him and the now rather exhausted und distressed girl from the shop longer than he’d planned.

Roses just seemed too much, too cliché, too obvious - or whatever you want to call it, but the other flowers were either not the color he wanted or he didn't like the meaning behind them. After what felt like hours, he was finally satisfied with the small bouquet of lilies in his hand and was already on his way back. Heiji tugged his woolen hat deeper in his face, leaning against the cold wind, even if he had a little trouble telling whether he was trembling because of the cold or the nervous feeling in his stomach. He was about to cross the road when a group of people caught his attention. His gaze hardened looking to the four guys, who were obviously trying to “flirt” with two high school girls.

“Please, we just want to go home,” they begged, trying to get past the four men, but their way was blocked again by one of them, wearing an ugly smirk.

“Oh sweety, but you haven't told us to whom ya wanna go!” He grinned a foul smile and his friends chuckled, before another one of them wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’ve got a special Christmas present for ya!”

The offer let the bile crawl up Heiji’s throat.

‘Alright that’s it.’ Heiji growled and made a step towards them, placing the flower bouquet on his shoulder carrying it similar to how he would carry his kendo sword.

“I guess they would prefer their own home, without any of you accompanying them.”

The high schoolers looked at him in surprise, before they took the chance that the attention wasn't on them any longer and slipped past them with a murmured thank you, before they hurried away.

“And who are ya?” the fake blond snarled, his lip thinning even more, before he added a special nickname with a ugly grin. “Flower boy?”

Heiji just rolled his eyes, ready to leave since he'd reached his goal, but the one with way too much wax in his sleek and slimy hair stepped in his way.

“Are ya planning ta weave a nice crown out of that?” he laughed, while trying to reach out to one of the lilies, but Heiji slapped his hand away with a growl.

“Hands off!”

But his action caused two of the guys to grab his arms, so that he’d lost the grip on the flowers in surprise. He swallowed; they still looked nice, but it was clear that it wouldn't stay that way for much longer.

“Why should we, ya just ruined our entertainment,” slimy-head argued.

“Hardly, ya faces already did that for ya,” Heiji told them with a dry laugh.

“Alright flower boy, that’s it,” the blonde guy grumbled, before his gaze fell to the bouquet on the ground.

“How nice, it’s a pity that ya dropped them,” he smirked, before raising his foot.

“Oh… I’m sorry, I must. Have. Stepped. On. Some-. -thing!” Each of his words was accompanied with another kick at the poor lilies,  before he looked up with an ugly smile.

Heiji just sighed, looking down at his latest plan.

“Ya really shouldn't have done that,” he whispered.

.

.

The doorbell interrupted Kazuha’s studies and she made her way to the door.

“Coming!”  She opened the door to find her missing school project partner right in front of her.

“Heiji, ya late, what-“  But the high schooler stopped herself at the appearance of her friend.

“Ya nose is bleeding!”

“Well yeah, that and four others,” Heiji chuckled darkly, but winced when that caused him to ache everywhere. 

She’d pushed him into the living room, placing him on the couch, and wrapped him (despite his protests) into a warm blanket, before she disappeared to gather something to treat him with.

“Here, I’ve made some tea, how’s ya head?”

“I told ya, I’m fine.” But Kazuha simply ignored him, carefully tending to the wound on his cheek, she was close enough for him to feel her breath on his skin. Well, he had a few bruises and hadn't told her what he wanted to, but all in all the day wasn't all that bad.

‘Not at all.’

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Six plates of cookies, Five bloody noses, Four eyes to visit, Three stolen purses, Two hours of frostbite, And a murder in a café!

The way to someone’s heart is through their stomach, at least that’s what they say.

So, when Kazuha announced that she wanted to try herself making Christmas cookies, he offered his help. After all it was baking not cooking and he couldn´t be that bad in both things after all, right?

Wrong!

Two sheets of burned to crisps cookies later, they knew he actually was that bad, and Kazuha banned him from the kitchen. Not without a job at least, as she’d placed the first plate of cookies in front his nose with a colorful assortment of sweets and warm chocolates to decorate them with.

“Ya can't ruin them with too much chocolate, so they should be safe with ya,” she had told him, before she’d disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving him confused and yes, maybe a tiny bit overchallenged in front of the first plate of cookies.

Heiji frowned and took the frosting bag, filled with warm brown chocolate in his hand, before a smile slowly found its way to his lips. Seemed like he still had his chance to tell her about... his opinion towards her. He'd seen decorated cookies with a tiny message on them everywhere, so it couldn't be that hard could it?

The Osakan picked one of the cookies, looking at it in concentration, thinking about the right way to place his sweet message, before he carefully placed the tip of the frosting bag on it, squishing it carefully, but cursed when the damn thing only left a dark smear on it. It even looked like - ah better not define the appearance of the ruined cookie any further.

‘Damn and what now?’ It was obvious that this kind of decoration was about to raise some questions, so what could he do about-

Crunch.

Heiji blinked when he noticed the sweet taste in his mouth, seems like his stomach had made the decision for him and a good one as well, since there wasn't left any evidence for his deed.

‘The perfect crime.’

Well it maybe was after the first plate of cookies, but not when he’d ruined the sixth. He swallowed his last fail. Atleast they were delicious, even if the cookies seemed to be plotting against him. After the chocolate had been dripping and smeared the first batch of cookies, it had now hardened and left nothing but an ugly heap on them instead of his supposed to be neat handwriting.

He tried himself with the last one, his last chance to make his plan work, well that was before Kazuha entered the room after she’d finished cleaning the kitchen from flour and cookie dough.

“Alright Heiji let's see what ya-” But she cut herself short, at the sight of the empty plates and the clear traces of chocolate at the corner of Heiji’s mouth.

“What have ya done!” she demanded, with her hands in her hips, making him flinch on his spot on the sofa.

“Uh..”

“Where are all tha cookies? Don't tell me-” But his face already answered her question.

“Ya ate them! All of them?” she shirked, reaching for one of the plates that offered nothing but a few crumbs of what she’d been baking all day.

“Uh..” he swallowed, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I can't believe ya ta be that selfish!” That finally pushed him from his stupor, so that he pushed himself from his seat.

“Oi! I didn't do it on purpose, they were ugly that's why-”

“They were what?!”

‘Oh fuck.’ He paled.

“I mean they weren't that good anyway,” he grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Ah- really?” Kazuha was about to argue again, before she blinked, looking worried now.

“Uh- no, I mean, yes- I mean, they weren't when I was done with them,” Heiji finally admitted, but not without pointing at the one thing that was responsible for his fail.

“It's not my fault that tha stupid chocolate didn't work!”

“Ya know that ya have ta warm it up in between right? And if something didn't turn out right ya simply could have covered tha whole thing with chocolate, instead of eating every single one!”

He blinked and for a moment there was nothing but silence between them.

“So, can I try again?”

“No way! No more cookies for ya mister.” Kazuha sighed, placing the frosting bags in the warm water.

“Oi, that's not fair!” Heiji whined, but took his seat again, while his friend raised an eyebrow.

“Ya had enough of them anyway.”

“Just because I tried ta solve a problem.”

“Well, ya better stick ta solving crimes.”

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Seven rooms on fire, Six plates of cookies, Five bloody noses, Four eyes to visit, Three stolen purses, Two hot chocolates, And a murder in a café!

Kudo was right, they were cursed.

He’d thought he could push his none existing luck again and arranged a dinner date for Kazuha and himself. After all, he knew that Kazuha liked this place, so what could go wrong?

Apparently, everything.

They had just finished their appetizer, and Kazuha wouldn't stop asking him why he was taking her out (she still suspected that he felt guilty for the “disappearing” cookies), but when he finally snapped and told her that it wasn't about that but something he had to say to her she’d suddenly gone silent and concentrated back on their food, without really caring about it.

He could feel her eyes on him from time to time, his mind running, searching for the right way to start their conversation again, or even better - to start the conversation, he’d invited her for. They weren't used to silence, not like this, and it seemed that Kazuha noticed that something was wrong, since it was her who finally broke the silence before he was able to form a sentence at all.

“And… what, what do ya have to tell me?”

Heiji swallowed, taken aback by the sudden question.

But the lump in his throat only got worse when he looked at her again. Kazuha was biting her lips with a faint blush on her cheeks, it was obvious that she was suddenly nervous too, even if she didn´t know what he wanted to tell her – or maybe she did?

Maybe she liked him the way he liked her?

Was she waiting for him to tell her?

Why didn't she say anything?

What if she liked someone else?

The detective shook his head. Trying to calm his racing heart, he reached for her hand, holding her delicate fingers in his own and it seemed that time stood still between them.

That was until an explosion shook the building.

The light went out right after the detonation, leaving the whole restaurant screaming in fear, since no one knew what was going on. Kazuha tightened the grip on his hand when he pushed himself from his chair.

“Heiji! What’s going on?” She trembled and he could see the fear in her eyes when the emergency generator provided at least some light.

“I don't know.” The detective looked around, searching where the explosion had come from and when he finally looked out of the window he saw it. The opposite building reflected a blazing fire, just two floors above them and Heiji cursed when the faint scent of smoke already reached his nose. Kazuha noticed his dark expression and followed his gaze, gasping at what she saw, but before she was able to say anything, Heiji shushed her.

“Don´t. Ya’ll only cause a panic,” he reminded her and Kazuha nodded, her eyes still fixed at the flames reflecting in the window.

“I need ya ta get these people out of here, tell them who ya are and that ya dad called ya or whatever - just see to it that they don´t panic.” Kazuha nodded, but gripped his fingers with both hands.

“What about ya?”

“I’ll see if there is anyone upstairs and get them out.” Kazuha nodded and he slowly loosened the grip of her hand on his own, ready to go, before her soft voice stopped him.

“Heiji-“ She bit her lips, her eyes resting on her feet before she looked up in worry.

“… be careful.”

“Sure.” The detective smiled, nodded and made his way to the stairs. But the only one he did find after he’d stormed through all seven rooms on fire, was the bomber himself, unconscious – who later told the police that his wife had left him a year ago on this day in this restaurant – so it seemed it wasn´t the best place to confess, after all.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Eight peaceful hours, Seven rooms on fire, Six plates of cookies, Five bloody noses, Four eyes to visit, Three stolen purses, Two hot chocolates, And a murder in a café!

It was perfect.

He’d brought her to the ice rink he’d like to visit earlier. The whole place was decorated in colorful fairy lights and evergreens, they even had a big Christmas three in the middle of the ice. It was nice, they felt like they were flying over ice, in their warm clothes with a big smile on their lips and he could use the one or other chance to hold her hand, before he had to catch her since she’d been to fast at some point, calling his name, before she landed in his open arms.

“Ah-“ Kazuha blushed, with her cheek on his chest.

“Uhm- thank you.” She murmured and leaned back in order to offer him some distance again, but Heiji didn´t answer, instead continued to hold her close.

Kazuha looked up, blushing again, when she noticed that she could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, but she didn´t struggle to get away from his grip. No, it felt good, warm… and safe.

Heiji took a shivering breath, looking down into her bright green eyes. His heart was beating, fast but strong and despite his mouth feeling dry he managed to hold her hand and finally found the words he’d wanted to tell her for so long.

“Kazuha I – I love you.”

He held his breath and waited for her answer.

The golden light of the sinking sun, brushed her cheeks and the fairy lights all around them seemed to multiply in her eyes when she finally replied him with a soft smile.

“I love you too… Heiji.”

.

.

.

She mirrored his smile, she didn´t knew what he was dreaming about, but after these last day’s he deserved some piece.

“Kazuha-chan, I’m home!” Her father announces, but instead of a warm welcome Ginshiro was greeted by a hiss from his daughter.

“Psst!”

“Huh- What?” He blinked, following her back into the living room, only to find Heiji Hattori solid asleep on his sofa.

“He’s asleep.” Kazuha helped her confused father to understand the situation.

“I can see that, but why?” The officer frowned.

Kazuha shrugged and turned her attention back to Heiji.

“These last days had were hard on him – he came over to help my with a school assignment, but when I prepared everything he was suddenly asleep and-“ Kazuha bit her lip.

‘- I couldn´t bring myself ta wake him.’  She smiled, pulling the blanked back up to his shoulders.

Ginshiro left them, offering to order take out food, so none of them would have to cook. Kazuha nodded and thanked him, before she took a seat beside Heiji, she had to admit that he looked kind of cute like this. 

Eight peaceful hours Heiji had to realize that his perfect confession had been nothing but a dream, but when he finally stirred ready to get up he noticed a weight on his shoulders only to find Kazuha who’d fallen asleep waiting for him to wake up.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Nine poisoned mistletoes, Eight peaceful hours, Seven rooms on fire, Six plates of cookies, Five bloody noses, Four eyes to visit, Three stolen purses, Two hot chocolates, And a murder in a café!

There was one thing, one cliché Christmas tradition which could be found in every romantic Christmas movie and always seemed to work like a lucky charm.

A mistletoe.

It was an old tradition, that whoever met under the mistletoe was supposed to kiss the other. Heiji swallowed, his head changed color at the very thought alone. Well, they didn´t have to kiss right away, but maybe he could use the tradition to finally reveal his feelings to her and whatever happened afterwards… was up to them.

At least he hoped that that since special charms seemed to be kind of their thing, his cursed luck when he tried to tell her would be reversed by the mistletoe.

He found a place, not far from their school, where they had hung a mistletoe right above a gate, leading to a small park.

This time however he would make sure that Kazuha would be there, so he sort of kidnapped her right after class, dragging her along. Apparently that wasn´t the best idea to since his hears felt like they would start to bleed every second now, terrorized from her questions.

“Heiji, I demand that ya tell me where we’re going!” She whined, before he rolled his eyes again still taking her further.

“I already told ya that’s supposed ta be a surprise!”

“But-“ Heiji stopped her before she could annoy him any further.

“Now come on!” He didn´t slow down until the park finally came into sight, a big smile spreading over his lips.

Heiji stopped in the gateway, a little out of breath by his hurry. Kazuha huffed as well, her breath creating little white clouds. He could feel his heartbeat fasten, her hand was still in his own, and he closed is fingers once more around it, daring to tug her a little closer.

She looked at him in surprise, still not knowing what was going on, but blushed a little since he was to her.

“Heiji what?” Kazuha could feel that he was up to something, he was behaving really strange this month and even now the slight blush on his cheeks confused her.

“Look up.” He smirked knowingly.

He bit his lips when she finally did, his mind going crazy thinking about what was about to happen when she finally saw the little charm right above their heads and maybe… he would even gain more than to reveal his feelings to her. A grin spread over his lips, he would even be a step ahead of Kudo. Heiji took a deep breath, closing his eyes, waiting for what was about to happen, before Kazuha’s somewhat annoyed question broke through his little dream.

“And… what now?”

Hattori blinked in surprise.

‘What?’ But his question was answered when he finally looked up, only to find that his lucky charm was missing.

“I, uh- where is it?”

“Where is what?” Before he could answer Kazuha’s question another voice interrupted him.

“Heiji-kun? Is that you?”

“O-Otaki-keiji?”  The high schoolers frowned when the officer made a step towards them.

“What are ya doing here?” The tall officer sighed and shook his head, before he answered.

“We had to confiscate the mistletoe.”

“Huh, what mistletoe?” Kazuha wondered.

“Ah the one-umpf” Officer Otaki’s answer was muffled by Heiji’s gloved hands, who looked at the detective in confusion before his eyes went wide.

“Uh- oh! Oh!” Heiji let go and tried to ignore his bright glowing cheeks while Otaki smiled at him, before he cleared his throat.

“So what’s wrong with it.”

“It’s poisoned.”

“What!?”

So his chance ended in another case, featuring a poisoned mistletoe that left other couples in the hospital, because the wind had caused the poison to flutter down on them. In the end there had been nine of them, spread all over the city and it took the police and him three whole days to put the puzzle pieces together and find the culprit.

Heiji sighed, that much for his hopes for a little Christmas miracle.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Ten icy snow balls, Nine poisoned mistletoes, Eight peaceful hours, Seven rooms on fire, Six plates of cookies, Five bloody noses, Four eyes to visit, Three stolen purses, Two hot chocolates, And a murder in a café!

They had to study and he promised himself to focus on that and only that. His parents were out, so they had decided to put their base camp in the living room. It would be their last test before winter break and Kazuha had even brought what was left of the Christmas cookies he’d almost ruined.

Heiji frowned and took another bite of his cookie. Kazuha had left a few minutes ago to get a book she’d forgotten at home. The Osakan sighed and let himself fall back to the carpet stretching his legs beneath the table. There were only a few day’s left until Christmas, maybe he should simply give up. ‘Yea… I guess that would be tha best.’

He closed his eyes and tried not to think about it, but with the sweet taste of cookies in his mouth and the clock ticking in the background it was just a matter of time until his temper got the better of him.

“Damn it! What is talking her so long!?”

Heiji cursed and pushed himself from the ground. Kazuha had left through the porch door through their backyard so she should come back that way too. But when Heiji pushed the door open he wasn´t only greeted by a blow of icy wind and snow but Kazuha’s laughter as well. It had snowed a good deal, their whole backyard looked like a winter wonder land. In the middle of it all was his childhood friend, laying on her back in the soft snow laughing joyfully.

He blinked in surprise, making another step to her.

“Oi, what are ya doing?” Kazuha just laughed and stopped her movements to lay there, staring up at the white heaving and the snow falling on top of her.

“I was making a snow angle.” She grinned and didn´t saw that Heiji just raised an eyebrow, daring to question if she’d just gone crazy, but Kazuha just continued.

“Don´t you think that it sometimes feels like magic? Everything is white and looking so clean and soft, while the world we know it seems to be asleep. Maybe that’s what haven looks like.” She rambled in amazement, with a warm smile on her lips.  

“It’s beautiful.”

Heiji swallowed and finally could see that she indeed had made a snow angle, still lying there with her own wings of snow, her eyes glittering with joy.

‘It is…’

That was his chance.

The detective bit his lips but when he looked up again, only to be hit in the face, by what was supposed to be his cold white ally.

‘What the-‘

Kazuha had stuck him with a snow ball, now giggling like a maniac at his dumbfounded expression.

Heiji blinked and shivered a little when the snow run down his collar, even though it didn´t take long to provoke a reaction from the detective.

“YOU-!”

“Ya’re going ta regret that!” He cursed and started to form a snowball himself, while Kazuha was already searching shelter behind the next three, where she could form more “weapons”.

Ten icy snow balls later- he didn´t know that she could throw so well- the big speech he’d planned was forgotten, as well as their studies, while he focused on an ice cold revenge.  

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Eleven hostages screaming,  Ten icy snow balls, Nine poisoned mistletoes, Eight peaceful hours, Seven rooms on fire, Six plates of cookies, Five bloody noses, Four eyes to visit, Three stolen purses, Two hot chocolates, And a murder in a café!

Heiji groaned and let himself sink into the free chair he’d cast an eye on half an hour ago, when it was still occupied by another annoyed and tired man.

‘Why did I even agree on this?´

Kazuha had vanished in the next changing booth, because after they had been strolling through the crowded shopping mall for the last three hours, searching for Christmas gifts she wasn´t tired, no- instead a dress in a shop window had lured her in and him with her.

She only wanted to try it on, even through she knew that it would be too expensive anyway- so why the trouble? Why even trying it? There was no logic to that- so the detectives mind wasn´t able to understand her actions, not at all.

He sneezed and glared at the Christmas three decorated right beside the changing cabins, it seems that he become allergic to them- what a surprise! Heiji sneezed again and pushed himself deeper into the chair with an annoyed groan.

“Hey, what’s taking you so long!” His grumble joined the sound of “Last Christmas” that was played for what felt the thousandth time.

“Alright-“ Kazuha announced and the curtain of her changing cabin wavered, before she finally stepped outside.  

“-here I come.”

Well, she did. Wearing a dark green dress, with some lance here and there and simply looked stunning.  Heiji didn´t react- or at least he didn´t notice his reaction, so he wasn´t aware that he stood up and made a step towards her, mouth a gasp, while “Wham!” to give their heart to someone special. He kept staring until Kazuha waved her hand in front of her nose, looking at him in confusion.    

“Oi- earth to Heiji! Hello?” He blinked, slightly confused about how he got here.

“Could you please- I mean, could you close it for me?” She stuttered, cheeks glowing a little red, before she turned around exposing her back to her- or should he say, her almost naked back.

The detective swallowed and observed how his own shivering fingers closed the sipper of her dress, carefully not to touch her skin.

“Thank you.” He nodded, still unable to form a correct sentence.  Kazuha smiled her cheeks still tined in red, before she took a step back, gesturing up and down herself.

“So… what do ya think?”

Heiji’s mouth had suddenly gone dry, he swallowed before he was finally able to from something similar to words.

“You- ya’re looking-“

But a gunshot stopped him form telling her that she was the most beautiful being he’d ever seen and that he loved her. Instead he looked around to find four man dressed in black with masks covering their faces and guns in their hands.

“No one moves!” 

‘Oh seriously?!’ He grunted.

“Kazuha get down!” 

So, their shopping trip ended in being held hostage with at least eleven other people until he was able to outwit the man, along with the police. Kazuha however brought the dress back and he knew that his chance to see her in it again, was less than zero.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Twelve missing heartbeats, Eleven hostages screaming,  Ten icy snow balls, Nine poisoned mistletoes, Eight peaceful hours, Seven rooms on fire, Six plates of cookies, Five bloody noses, Four eyes to visit, Three stolen purses, Two hot chocolates, And a murder in a café!

Heiji sighed and ignored the cold wind caressing his cheeks and the snowflakes settling in his dark hair.  He’d failed.

It was Christmas eve and tomorrow all the sparkle, spirit and wonder would be gone again, along with his chance to tell her… that he loved her.

Maybe it just- shouldn´t be.

Alright, Kudo had taken some tries as well, but not what- eleven?!

At least everything could go back to normal, once this day was over. His parents were hosting a small party for their friends and family and of course Kazuha was there too. Wearing a breathtaking red dress, that was enough to transform him into a stuttering idiot, gasping for air like a fish out of water. All the love and joy all around him was simply too much- why had it been so hard to tell her the truth anyway? It was like he’d been cursed.

He took his chance to get some air, choosing the wide balcony on the upper floor, which allowed him to see a glimpse of the city.  The whole neighborhood was dressed in cold white snow, with magical touches of light form the decoration of the different houses.

Heiji took a deep breath, it was calm, peaceful, maybe he would be able to forget-

“Heiji?”

‘Oh darn it!’ 

“What are ya doing here?” She questioned and stepped on the balcony, tugging her dark purple cloak closer around her body, while he answered with a sigh looking back at the city again.

“Just catching some breath.” Kazuha nodded, before she noticed that he was wearing no coat, his dark green pullover was the only protection against the snow.

“Alll ya catch will be a cold, here take this.” And before the Osakan had a chance to answer he found her warm red scarf around his neck. He blushed in surprise when he noticed the soft scent of her perfume, which still lingered in the stitches.

When he looked up again, Heiji suddenly noticed that Kazuha was still standing close to him, one hand resting on his chest, where she had placed the end of the scarf, staring holes in his chest.

‘K-Kazuha?’ He swallowed when she finally looked up again and immediately dared to drown in her eyes. Silent Christmas music reached them from downstairs, muffled by the snow and while the night was pitch black, the city lights all around them formed their own universe of bright glowing stars in the darkness.

“Heiji, I …” Kazuha started to stutter, it wasn´t just the cold wind that dipped her cheeks into a warm red color.

“There is, something I want to tell you, that wanted to tell you for a while now…” Heiji’s eyes grew wide, he could feel his heartbeat fasten, while it felt like ants were crawling up and down his spine.

No… it couldn´t be… could it?

Kazuha took a shivering breath, her fingers digging into his pullover afraid that he might go, that she would lose him after what she was about to tell him and yet he grounded her and was the reason she found the courage to look up again.

“Heiji I… love you.”

Her words were barely more than a whisper but enough to make his heart stop.

It was like the snow had stopped falling mind air, time stood still only for them while Heiji found himself lost in her eyes. It took the detective twelve missing heartbeats until he was finally able to respond, even though his answer wasn´t what any of them expected.

“WHAT?!”

He shouted, gasping for breath while his now supposed to be girlfriend just looked at him with wide eyes. “You- but- I- HOW?!”  Heiji stuttered, she told him- just like that, she told him.

That meant that she loved him right?

Well, that was a good thing.

It was amazing!

But why had it been so easy for her just to-

“Heiji- what are you talking about?” Her voice ripped him from his trance, she didn´t dare to look at him and her voice held an unsteady shiver to it.

“Don´t you- I mean-“  Heiji was taken aback by the sudden tremble in her voice and looked down at her, but Kazuha avoided his gaze, yet he could see that her eyes dared to become glassy and she was biting her lips - Darn it, he’d managed to ruin even that!

“What no- I mean yes. Arg!” He took a deep breath, massaging the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“I’ve been trying to tell you, these last weeks but everything went wrong and now you just-“ The detective muttered, instinctively holding her a little closer. Kazuha just blinked and looked up at him again, only to find his face glowing bright red in embarrassment.

“So that’s what it’s been all about?” She asked with a smirk, remembering his strange behavior and all the “not dates” in the past month.

“Well yeah…” Heiji stuttered. He took a deep breath and brushed a melting snowflake from her cheek, before he continued with a sigh.

“I wanted it to be perfect.” Heiji confessed with a blush.

Kazuha just shook her head with a smile, before she allowed her hand to touch his cheek.  

“It is, silly.” 

The detective smiled and took her hand into his own.

‘True.’

“I love you Kazuha.”

[space-romantic]

A Stain on his Purity

#HypMicRarepairWeek2020 is going intense for now, isn’t it?

Genre: Comedy. Fandom: Hypnosis Microphone. Word count: 2,177 Prompt: Day 2 - First Kiss Summary: A fashion magazine wants Ramuda to participate in the last cover with Jyushi as his model. Ramuda notices Jyushi's innocence while creating the design together with him... but he feels so much desire to stain his purity...

Let me know if you liked it on AO3! (・ω・) /

--

Ramuda's hands had been very nimble in making the sketch of what he wanted. The colored pencils were scattered on the table in his workshop, as if a hurricane had passed through it. With the smile he had, anyone could see on his face how much the new project excited him.

He looked at his sketch again and then looked at Jyushi. For a moment, he imagined the whole outfit finished on him. The lights illuminated his face and the flashes kept coming. It was glorious.

The week had begun with a fashion magazine calling Ramuda on the phone. They wanted a special edition from people on the rise to fame, and they begged him to be there. If he wanted it, the cover was his.

Without much thought, he accepted. Obviously, the money would be good, but the exposure would be better. It was even better when they told him who the model would be. All the screens in Shibuya and Harajuku would be bright with Aimono Jyushi’s face, the “It-boy”, wearing Amemura Ramuda’s designer clothes. The designer and the singer, working together for fashion. It was a match made in heaven.

Taking small jumps of joy, he took Jyushi's hand to make him stand up from the soft pink couch. Jyushi was trying to maintain an elegant, sophisticated stance. A half-smile settled on his face as he looked at the sketch: it was a tall figure like him, with his black and yellow hair in pigtails and a strawberry headdress, wearing an over-the-top Lolita dress. The long sleeves of a pink blouse contrasted with the black dress and the striped stockings. There were chains, ribbons, and strawberries everywhere, a mixture of sweet and edgy that suited his personality.

“Hmm, I won't look half bad in it, right?”

Jyushi's voice was deep and sure. His black eyeliner contrasted with the innocent blue of his eyes. Ramuda paid attention to all those details as he pulled out the tape measure that hung around his neck and leaned over the singer's waist so that he could begin taking his measurements. He would meticulously note down all the data once he was finished.

“Yep~! If everything goes right, you'll look amazing in this dress. It'll be the biggest hit in the magazine!”

“Haha, of course, it will be. When Aimono Jyushi appears, everyone turns to see him.” Jyushi's chuckle was only about self-reliance, a way of repeating to himself that he could make it work. If the magazine had called him to do this, it was for a reason.

“I hope your design is up to my standards, Amemura-san.”

Hearing his words, Ramuda puffed up his cheeks, looking annoyed but not offended. It was obvious that the boy didn’t know who he was messing with. But the pink-haired one couldn't blame him, he was still young and no one had broken his ego... yet. Maybe he should take care of that.

“Onii-saaa~n, you're so mean! I know you're great, but my designs are great too. You'll look so cute!”

Ramuda turned around to go find a stool. For his part, Jyushi looked down and frowned slightly. In some ways, he was having a little trouble keeping it together. He looked down at the couch, looking for Amanda. He could see her sitting on his purse and felt a little bit better. She was the only thing it was making bearable this afternoon. Just having her in the same place made him feel ready to confront anything.

Jyushi thought about how kind Ramuda was, but he couldn’t feel completely comfortable around him. It was not his fault; it was only the fact it’s the first time he had seen him in person. Before Nagoya division had settled, he had seen him at rap battles. He's amazing, Jyushi has said to himself. If someone had told him that months later, they would be making a collaboration, he would have laughed.

Ramuda put the stool next to Jyushi and got on it. He continued to take the measurements of his torso and shoulders and write them down. He hummed a song. That served as a distraction for Jyushi, who closed his eyes and hummed along with him. It was a nursery rhyme, but they both enjoyed it. Jyushi's smile turned innocent as he immersed himself into the melody. The pink-haired one looked at him intently, as if wanting to remember this moment in his memory forever; as he watched Jyushi letting the tune carry him away. He noticed how Jyushi's expression had changed. He was innocent, shining, pure as a white flower. Ramuda felt a strong desire to taint him so badly…

As he came down from the stool, he went to another part of the studio. He took a deep breath to calm his thoughts. The two of them had already stopped humming. Jyushi had relaxed, anyone could tell by the way his shoulders were falling. There was no longer any tension in him, and his smile lit up the studio. To Ramuda, that smile seemed warm and friendly, very different from the ones he gave to people. It was that kind of detail that differentiated a real person from a master of deception like him. In a way, he was jealous of that innocence.

He approached Jyushi again with a pile of hair garters and a comb. He climbed back onto the stool and combed his black hair carefully.

“Oniisan, when did you know you wanted to be a singer? Is it hard to switch between rap and Visual-kei songs? What kind of lyrics do you like best? Would you like to sing something else with me?”

The questions came quickly in Jyushi's direction. His innocent eyes widened, uncertain where to begin to answer. Ramuda continued to watch him, inspecting how the light in his eyes was changing. He enjoyed seeing how the young one struggled to remain in-character, but his real personality was ready to come out. Maybe he just had to force it a little more.

"Jyushi-sa~n, your hair is so long~!"

The garters in Jyushi's hair were arranged to form a pair of braids that fell delicately over his shoulders. As soon as Ramuda finished with one, he placed a black ribbon with a red ornament in the center. He felt that it matched his clothes perfectly and hoped that Jyushi would notice as well. His aesthetic sense was precise, and he would not let anyone tell him otherwise.

"How do you get your hair to be so long and shiny? It's beautiful! I wish I had hair like that too!"

Jyushi didn’t yet realize that Ramuda was doing this on purpose to see if he would fall for it. While Ramuda was faking a pout and playing with the artist's hair, Jyushi was trying to be the same Visual-kei singer who came through the door, not the eager little boy who was about to leave. With a little effort, his gaze became indifferent and his mouth took on the half-smile that had been on his face all afternoon.

“It's because of the moonlight. It accompanies my nightly baths and makes its light imprint itself on my skin and hair.” Jyushi's voice was low again, but it was playful. He tried to sound cool and mysterious, as if his hair had always been like that. “You should feel lucky to be able to touch it like that, Ramuda-san. There are only a few privileged people who can do such things.”

“Yeah, I think I'm lucky too.” Ramuda had come a little closer to her face. His breath was very close to him. He was fixing the singer's bangs and putting a pair of strawberry clips in his hair.

He was greatly amused to see Jyushi's eyes dancing nervously before him. He could feel his Adam's apple going up and down as he swallowed his saliva. His mouth was probably dry from anxiety. But the fun was about to get to the best part.

“Jyushi-san, I think it's fate that has made us work together. I couldn't ask for anything more than a pretty boy like you! It makes me want to... I don't know, kiss you!”

And with that, his lips landed on Jyushi's. The tall one's breathing stopped, and his confidence plummeted, along with a small cry of surprise. Ramuda placed his hands on his shoulders, and with his eyes closed, ran his tongue over Jyushi's lips. As if he had touched a switch on him, Jyushi’s delicate lips parted and Ramuda forced his tongue on him, slowly and softly.

Jyushi closed his eyes tightly, unable to describe what was happening. Once Ramuda prevailed upon him, he could taste the sugar in his mouth, invading it and making it his own. It was strange, perhaps pleasant? He still couldn’t recognize what was going on, only that he liked it. He felt intoxicated. He could feel the color rising in his cheeks and his breathing began to accelerate.

Both the beginning and the end were sudden. Ramuda parted from Jyushi quickly and embraced him by the shoulders. The designer could feel the heat pouring from the singer and was satisfied with it. He put his lips to Jyushi's ear. His voice was no longer high-pitched and youthful, but the voice of a serious man.

“Ah, Jyushi! You are so pure and innocent. You make me want to sully that purity... You're so easy to break."

Jyushi's blue eyes darkened. Ramuda thought it was pure pleasure, that Jyushi wanted more of him, but he was not ready to give it to him yet. The innocent smile returned to his face, playing on his expressions in a way he knew Jyushi would never be able to.

“Do you see, oniisan~? I can't control myself when I'm with you, you're so cute!”

As he got off the stool for the last time and started to tidy up, Ramuda turned his back on him. It was at that moment that Jyushi brought his fingers to his lips and his eyes were like saucers. He couldn’t believe what had happened. If someone had gotten into his head, he would have heard Jyushi screaming inside.      

He took his things and hurriedly said goodbye, bowing 90 degrees so that the pink-haired one didn’t see his red face. Ramuda waved his hand and with a smile said, "I hope you'll come back to visit me soon, Jyushi-kun!" In a way, it was the truth. He wanted to see him again. He felt responsible for him. If anyone was going to sully Jyushi's innocence, it would be him. He couldn't have given that honor to anyone else. He placed a candy in Jyushi’s hand, as a way of marking him. They would see each other again, there were still the dress rehearsals and the photoshoot. Ah, how nice to know that they would meet again!

Pressing the candy against him, Jyushi almost flew out of Ramuda's studio. His steps were long, as if to get away from there as quickly as possible. He was ashamed of himself and didn’t understand anything that was happening inside him.

Once he had walked a couple of blocks, he went into the first café he found. His trembling hands grabbed the cell phone and dialed the most important number in his record.

He sat down in a seat at the café. Amanda was in his lap and he was squeezing her, bringing her closer to his body. The menu was on the table, but he didn't pay attention to it. The sound of dialing made him go crazy. His foot was moving anxiously under the table. In his mind he begged "please answer.”

“Hello?”

He took a deep breath as soon as he heard his voice. He could no longer control himself.

"HITOYA-SAAAAAN! Someone robbed meeeee!" Jyushi's voice was one of despair, with tears about to fall from his eyes. The people around him began to look at him, some with pity and some with discomfort. And Jyushi? He couldn’t care less about them, as he was too concentrated in Hitoya’s voice.

“What?! Jyushi-kun, calm down, tell me what happened to you. What was stolen? Did you see their face?” On the other end of the phone, Hitoya's voice sounded alarmed. “Where are you? I'm coming to get you.”

"A kiss! It was my first kiss and I didn't imagine it would be like this!" The tears that came out wet Amanda. People weren't looking at him anymore. The menu was still on the table, unseen.

At his office in Nagoya, Hitoya was silent, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. How could Jyushi have called for such a thing? He did a facepalm. The only thing that relieved him was knowing that it was nothing serious as he had thought. He looked quickly at his schedule and noticed that he didn’t have much to do that evening. He sighed. That was good. There was something in it that told him this would be a long afternoon…

[worldcakecakecake]

On Deutschland and Italia by Lovino Valenti

Lovino writes a series of blog entries on the relationship between Germany and Italy as he deals with a move to Hamburg, his brother’s wedding, and his budding romance (which he denies) to the infuriating Gilbert Beilschmidt.

                                                     Chapter 2

Waking groans, but in between, there were moans, kisses, naked bodies intertwining well beneath the messed covers. Ludwig raised a leg to let it wrap well around his waist and Feliciano enticed him more by scratching in all the blonde’s weak spots across his hair and back as they continued on with their kiss. A singular golden ring, encrusted with a beautiful ruby reigned over them as Feliciano had it raised high, its shine one that Feliciano couldn’t ignore as it caught his eyesight. He stopped the kiss to stare truly, to bring it between them so Ludwig could stare at the very familiar ring…finally now on its finger, an image of his dreams ever since he first realized he was in love with the person of whose legs he was currently in-between. Feliciano spun it, his smile intensifying the more, bringing it forward to kiss.

 “I still can’t believe it,” he shrilled.

 “To be honest, I still can’t believe you said yes.”

 “Dio! Ludwig! I’ve practically been in love with you since forever. Of course, I was going to say yes!” He laughed, wrapping himself well around him.

 “There were a lot of implications if you decided to be with me, Feliciano. I didn’t think you would accept them.”

 “I don’t care where I have to go as long as I’m with you. I really have no problem with it, Ludwig. I’m sure we’ll be really happy in Santo Domingo,” Feliciano alighted, trying to bring himself closer and closer, now covering Ludwig’s face in kisses.

 Ludwig sighed, “I don’t think your family will feel the same way.”

 The reminder to sour the atmosphere, to make Feliciano groan and fall back to the bed.

 “When are we going to tell them?”

 “About moving to the Dominican Republic?”

 “No, about getting married.”

 They were both pensive, silent, if they were distracted, it was because of the fingers that threaded softly through exposed skin.

 “How about…dinner, this weekend?” Ludwig ended up suggesting.

 “That sounds amazing! And we can invite everyone and tell them all by dessert! I’m sure they’ll be as happy as we are!” Feliciano excited, shown in the embrace and tightness he kept to Ludwig’s body.

 “Haaaa!!! And Lovino is going to be here! This is so cool!” He even kicked his legs in anticipation.

 All bliss left Ludwig at the mentioning of that name.

 “Wait…what? What do you mean Lovino is here?” Ludwig surprised, completely detaching himself from Feliciano.

 “Oh…yeah, I forgot to tell you. He got a transfer and they sent him here to Hamburg. He has to work on some articles and he’s really mad about it, well he’s mad about coming here in full, but he just arrived and he got one of the apartments above Nonno’s restaurant, so he’ll definitely come to the dinner!”

 None of it brought tranquility to Ludwig, whose expression continued to strike shock.

 “I…don’t think we should invite my family then. If anything, we can make another dinner for them.”

 “Nooo! Come on! We’re officially going to become a true family and I want them to find out together. Why do you look so worried? Our grandparents get along, our mothers, our fathers, our uncles, our aunts, our cousins-”

 “But not our brothers.”

 And that’s exactly when Feliciano remembered, understanding Ludwig’s concerns.

 “That was…that was years ago. I’m sure it’s not a problem now,” Feliciano tried to remain positive, pushing away all the recent…very recent memories of Lovino insisting he did not want to meet with Beilschmidts there, especially Gilbert. “They won’t do anything!”

 “Feliciano, I can honestly admit that my brother is one of the most annoying bastards I know. He'll find whatever opportunity to start poking at Lovino just to entertain himself, and from what you’ve told me, your brother’s temper has been the same for as long as I can remember. Trust me…it will end horribly.” Ludwig was sure, already concocting the worst outcome.

 “But…but…they’ve matured, they wouldn’t do it! Especially in such an important dinner,” Feliciano wanted to hope.

 “I seriously doubt they will care.”

 “We can try talking to them beforehand. If we really insist, maybe they won’t end up doing that.” Feliciano’s eyes shone with too much hope, in a shine that Ludwig was weak to, obedient, merciful. He sighed, wishing that in their coming marriage he could learn to be stronger against that begging gaze.

 “We’ll talk to them. Get them to understand the meaning of this dinner as much as possible…but if things go horribly, just learn to expect it.”

  “So there’s already the personal blogs exploring the relationship between Germany and Italy as you asked for my submission, the guide to Rome in three days, commentary about Margherita of Savoy, and a ‘What if Germany was still under monarchic rule?’” Lovino had his pen flying as he recalled them well from his list. To his superior, it was incredibly distracting.

 “Yes. Now, is there any sort of issue. Do you need access to anything?”

 “I’m perfectly capable.” Even he was honestly very annoyed by it all. For the money, he told himself, just so he wouldn’t come out with some rash comment to his boss, the person paying and offering him this opportunity. “Is that all?”

 “Yes. I assume they have given you your office, password for all our accounts, contacts-”

 “Yep, got it all! When can I leave?”

 Honestly, if it wasn’t for his writing and the audience he was getting in his platforms, he would have made a comment about his rude behavior. He held it out and let everything escape in a deep breath. “Yes, you can leave, Mr. Valenti.” And Lovino was off without a second to spare in that crummy office.

 He had to admit though, there were so many things surrounding him that shouldn’t put him in that foul mood he constantly presented in this journalist company. It was honestly a nice building, a well-located area in the center of Hamburg that was helpful to moving around. He had a beautiful office, with a good apple desktop, clean, organized, large, a beautiful view to the city. Many tended to dream about this kind of opportunity, and here he took his chair soured, wishing these articles could be written by themselves and he could just go home.

 One year, he told himself, only one year and that would be the end of all this.

  Yes, Ludwig was the one who had it all. Got himself a high position in a train engineering company, gaining millions, stable, proud, high stature shown in even his physical height, a jacked-up body, blond, beautiful blue eyes, and a gorgeous Italian boyfriend to paint it all the more perfect. Was Gilbert Beilschmidt jealous? In true honesty, hell no. He was actually very proud of his little brother. If there was something he wanted or regretted from it all…was not acting first on hitting on Feliciano when he returned to Hamburg, but he had to admit that him and his brother made an adorable and balancing couple and he did not dare come between that at all. He was honestly happy with the mechanic job he had in his grandfather’s company, getting down and dirty, with motors, oil, even fire. Here he could wear whatever he wanted, act how he wanted and even show himself however he wanted. Could Ludwig do that? No, and most probably he would rather live a hermit life in the mountains than ever show himself as dirty and disarrayed as Gilbert currently did as he worked and even got into the engine of this Alfa Romeo. Aldrich Beilschmidt did not mind this…what he did mind was the blaring of System of a Down added to the screeches of metal cutting, drilling and car engines running from across the workshop. To make it worst, Gilbert had no problem with screaming and singing with the song, drumming along with the engine and his tools. No matter how loud Aldrich called, he was not going to hear him, so he had to bring himself forward, harshly gripping him from his shoulder and turning him towards himself.

 “What the hell, Opa! You’re breaking me off from my awesome mood. What gives?”

 Aldrich rolled his eyes, “I have a pick up for you.”

 “All right, give me directions and I’ll skedaddle. What happened to this fellow?” He picked the documents from Aldrich’s hand, that surprisingly didn’t hold a name, Aldrich preferred it that way. He just hoped that the client for today had changed enough for Gilbert not to recognize.

 “Just broke down. A quick fix issue. You can have it gone from the workshop by tomorrow.”

 “Sweet. Let me go get the pick-up.”

  This car…was brand new. It was bought for the sole reason of shinning with style in such a bland country as Germany. It was to make envy, impression, all the men and ladies lining up to join him in a ride. Now it was fuming in some corner of the city, Lovino in his expensive suit, sitting in a near bench, contacting his family members about what just happened.

 ‘Don’t you dare call the Beilschmidts!’ he had texted everybody.

 “I’m sure it will get fixed very quickly, Lovi. But in the meantime, I have no problem taking you to your job,” Feliciano happily glowed from the other side of the line.

 “It’s fine, Feli. I can still take the train or even the bus,” he rolled his eyes, hating all the pitied looks he was getting by passersby.

 “Didn’t you hate it?”

 “I just…” to be honest, he just didn’t want to seem like a loser who had to depend on his little brother to take him to work, “…I think I like the one here in Hamburg better.”

 “That’s really weird of you to say, but I’m glad! See, you’ll love it here! Maybe then you won’t even want to leave!”

 Lovino wanted to laugh, but he held himself to let his brother have his positivity.

 “And Lovi, I really have to ask you, what are you doing this Saturday night?”

 “I’ll probably stay home and eat some pizza, why?”

 “Good, because that means you can come to Nonno’s restaurant! Me and Ludwig are going to make a very special dinner and you should definitely come.”

 “No,” he quickly decided.

 “Why not?!” Feliciano was heavily insulted.

 “Because whenever Ludwig is involved, another Beilschmidt is bound to thread behind him, and in this situation, I’m suspecting a particular asswipe that I am in no mood to seeing again.”

 “You…you don’t know if he’s going to come.”

 “You hesitated. I already know he’s coming.”

 “No, no, no, I’m just worried about…other Beilschmidts,” Feliciano really tried to play it off.

 “You should be, that’s why you shouldn’t expect me there.”

 “But…it’s really important…”

 “How so?”

 Feliciano didn’t want to spoil the surprise, biting his lips, kicking his legs as if they could jolt his mind to come up with something quick enough. “Really important…like life important really important. Come on, Lovino! It’s going to be really special and I want my big brother there to hear it!” The beg in his voice…just like that of a child’s. Was Feliciano ever going to change?

 “…I don’t know…” he was falling.

 “I can…I can…make sure Gilbert doesn’t come.” Too far fetch and if Ludwig knew he suggested that, it was a sure fight, but he had Lovino humming. He just wanted his approval, to expect him and just have him there. They could later deal with other consequences. “I swear and… I’ll get the cooks to make you that mozzarella pizza you really like!”

 “You mean, ‘La Italiana’?”

 “Yes!”

 “I hate how you can easily bribe me with pizza…”

 Feliciano celebrated, clapping his hands and surely making some stupid dance. “It will be best Italiana you've ever had!” He shouted with promise.

 “It better be! And I better not spot any albinos in that dinner!”

 “Got it!”

 “Hey, gotta hang up, I’m seeing a tow truck coming and I think it’s for my car, talk to you later.”

 “All right, ciao ciao!”

 The call was over, Lovino standing, ready to converse with whoever about what happened to his car. Hands on his hips, occasionally turning to seem distracted with some other building, he stood in such a way that made Gilbert whistle to himself.

 Damn, this dude had some legs, an ass, a figure, gorgeous curled hair. He was expecting the face of a god. He promised himself to later thank his grandfather incredibly for giving him this client. But okay, play it cool! Suave, a gentleman… don’t annoy him or get him angry. He was confident as he stopped and headed down, already a smile and a friendly greet. For a moment, Lovino was swoon at his quite handsome figure, unique, to be honest not the kind of guy he usually found himself attracted to, but he had to admit a fine man when he saw one. Yet, to both, there was something eerily familiar…it just hadn’t found its way to reach their heads yet.

 “Good afternoon, sir! Is this your car?” He pointed.

 Lovino only nodded, “yeah, this piece of shit is sadly mine.”

 Gilbert laughed, in a ring that brought just the right reminder.

 Lovino didn’t want to think, his family wouldn’t dare send who he thought they sent if they knew. This couldn’t be…this couldn’t be…but upon closer inspection, he noticed the ‘Beilschmidt’ logo in his shirt uniform, that rare color white hair, deep red eyes, strong structures in his body that in their youth must have been rounded.

 “Gilbert?” He dared question, hate already oozing in his tone.

 Gilbert was figuring out from where he would place the hook, but upon that questioning, that mention of his name, suddenly reminding that only one person could ever say his name like it was the world’s most ultimate curse word. That’s when he looked closely at this hot ass looking guy, realizing, matching it well with a person of his childhood that he had remembered well tormenting and just awful memories that he would have rather forgotten about.

 “Lovino?”

 Silence continued between them, as if plotting escape, any way to just not deal with their presence, but they were already there, Lovino expecting a service from Gilbert, there really wasn’t an easy opening.

 “Well, hey, hey. It’s been a long time. Never thought I’d see you here again,” Gilbert tried to keep it cool, eyes away and focusing on getting the car hooked.

 “Yeah…I didn’t think I’d see you either,” Lovino avoided his eyes as well.

 “I live here,” he reminded.

 How could Lovino gently tell him he had no interest in wanting to see him in the first place? That he planned on avoiding all the Beilschmidts for the year he was expecting to stay in Hamburg.

 “I’m working and I barely have any time to go out,” he excused.

 “Ah yeah. What’s it been? Fifteen years, I think? I have to admit, you look pretty good!”

 “Yeah…” Lovino strained, trying to keep his blush down for the compliment.

 At least he had grown some taste.

 “As expected, I’m working for my grandfather now. Feliciano mentioned you’re working for Boots. That’s pretty cool. I read their stuff from time to time.”

 “Feliciano told you?” He had to sustain his anger at that.

 “Yeah, he’s always telling us all kinds of things about you. From what I heard, you’re pretty much as angry and explosive as you were when we were kids,” he laughed, finding the place and beginning to get the truck to pick the car, while Lovino pondered on ways to make Feliciano pay.

 “I’m not…that angry anymore.” There was so much doubt in his voice, that Gilbert could easily tell the lie, rolling his eyes as he finished the hooking.

 “Well, everything is settled! So, come on, hop on. We’ll get to the work shop and I think your grandfather will come pick you up from there,” he offered and even opened the door for Lovino, who gazed on with question, even disgust at the idea of getting into such an unsightly vehicle.

 “What?” Did it stink? Did he leave trash again? He spotted the wrapper of a candy bar and threw right at the sidewalk, which only gave Lovino more discomfort. “Just, come on, it’s not going to kill you or anything.” Gilbert had to insist, Lovino having to obey, groaning to himself, hesitant in the steps he neared and then took upward to sit. Uncomfortable and goddammit did it stink of…Gilbert!

 The albino harshly closed the door, making Lovino shake and taking the driver seat as confident and cocky as Lovino had remembered him. The awful engine was on and they were off, Gilbert having at least the decency to turn his annoying music down. Awkward silence, in which Lovino spent trying to keep as far away from him as possible and Gilbert thinking of topics to talk about that wouldn’t earn him a punch in the face.

 “So…how’s it been?”

 Lovino didn’t answer, looking over to Gilbert as if the words had been an insult.

 “What?” He wondered. He really didn’t ask much.

 “Are you seriously going to try and befriend me like nothing?” Lovino couldn’t hide it any longer, letting a bit of his spite to resurface.

 “Are you still hang up on what happened when we were kids. Come on, we were like…five. Let it go, it was just stupid kids’ stuff.”

 “Stupid kids’ stuff? You constantly used to beat me up, you sent me insults that didn’t let me sleep, you tried taking away my stuff and ruined whatever positive things I had going on!”

 “I was a kid! I didn’t understand anything and that’s just my jerk as self being the usual,” Gilbert scoffed, not seeming to mind.

 “The usual?”

 “Yeah!”

 Lovino rolled his eyes, “must be hard making friends then now a days.”

 “Hey! I’ll let you know that I have a perfect amount of perfectly awesome and capable friends,” Gilbert insulted.

 “Do you really? I find it very hard to believe.”

 “What about you then? If you’re still so sensitive about stuff that happened years ago, I doubt you’re meeting people that can take it.”

 “Who I have befriended, who I keep in contact, stands by my side or later leaves, is none of your business.”

 “Yet you have no problem with just guessing mine.”

 “You had no problem with making my childhood utter hell.”

 “It was years ago, you ungodly creep!”

 Lovino gasped, “are you seriously starting this you soulless pit deepshit.”

 “Oh, still as harsh as I remember! You talk about me running your childhood, but don’t you think that I’ll forgot how annoying you made mine!”

 “What the hell did I do to you?”

 “Don’t pretend like you weren’t throwing insults and looking for whatever excuse to pick up a fight.”

 “If you weren’t so annoying and simply begging for it, then that wouldn’t be the case!”

 The rest of the bickering continued with both talking over each other, louder and louder until the cars of the vicinity could hear the fight clearly…as well as see their wild hand gesturing and just how their bodies moved with their shouts.

 Gilbert somehow managed to bring them back to the mechanic shop, still in the same fight that had constituted the most part of the trip. It was the scene that had greeted both Aldrich and Augusto as they stood waiting for them to arrive, having been happily conversing about their plans of dinner for the night. At what came, they sighed and had to silently agree that their plan didn’t work as expected.

 “I just hope you’re still peeing your pants!” Lovino shouted over the car, beginning to take heavy steps towards his grandfather.

 “Oh, real mature! Then I hope you shit your pants as much!” Gilbert in turn shouted as he made his way to some other part of the workshop, not wanting to deal with anything right now.

 Lovino saw as he moved away, leaving his car still towed on the truck. “Um…hello! You have to fix my car, dimwit!” Lovino still expected.

 “You know what, no!” Gilbert shouted furiously back.

 “What?”

 “I can decide whenever the hell I want to fix your car, and you know, I hope you’re ready to wait, because for hell will I be touching your disgusting thing!”

 “It’s your job!”

 “Exactly, and you know what, fuck you!” He was off, too far for any other insults, only leaving behind one last middle finger that Lovino joined him in, double as if it was shots strong enough to kill.

 “Lovino,” Augusto greeted.

 “You set this up didn’t you? You made me actually meet with Gilbert!” He blamed strongly, blazing more so than the older had expected.

 “To be honest…yes. I was hoping you would get over some issues if you did,” he tried to excuse.

 “Very clearly you didn’t,” Aldrich added.

 Lovino glared at him, and before things could get any worst, Augusto and Aldrich shared goodbyes, Augusto taking Lovino by the shoulder and pulling him back to where he had parked his own car.

 “You couldn’t behave…you couldn’t behave for once!” Augusto scolded harshly as they made their drive back.

 “You know that I have never, never! Been one to behave with that cocksucker in the same room!” He shouted back.

 “Watch your words and your tone young man! You might be a grown adult with your own apartment and car, but that does not excuse directing yourself in such a way towards me. I am your grandfather!” Augusto punctuated strongly, letting things cool down enough before he continued to speak in mellow tones. “Is it that hard to contain yourself? To just…smile and let things pass and forgive others.”

 “I’m not Feliciano, Nonno,” Lovino grinned his teeth, gripping his hands.

 “I know that! I’m just asking you to be more easy going and give yourself the chance to forgive and move on. You’re probably driving yourself away from what could be an amazing chance of friendship,” Augusto hoped.

 “With Gilbert? Are you crazy?” No chance could be seen.

 “It’s been ten years, Lovino! Gilbert has changed and so have you! For fuck’s sake you are not children!” Augusto hit the wheel and shouted, in a way that caused Lovino to move back in fear.

 Augusto sighed, the car in silence, both breathing and calming. “Your mother made that vegetable soup you like for dinner. Why don’t you join us today?” After everything, Lovino agreed as a way to unwind.

  Ludwig enjoyed from this silence, reading from a short book his grandfather had in the living room, both his grandmother and mother in the kitchen finishing up some last things for dinner. It didn’t last long, it was interrupted by a murmur of shouts, familiar, coming up the stairs to surely this apartment. Ludwig rolled his eyes, placing the book back and preparing for what was coming.

 “-and Oppa, I tried! I swear I tried! But the stick up Lovnio’s ass is too deep to try and remove…even with a fucking tow truck!” His elder brother brought the action to the home, smashing the door open, throwing his shoes in a corner and actively moving his body about in anger.

 “Will you ever enter this home without making such a ruckus,” Aldrich gently complained, picking up the things Gilbert threw and trying to organize them.

 “He does the same thing when he goes to my place. I doubt that will ever happen.” Ludwig went ahead to help him.

 “Luddy!” Gilbert shouted, calm and excited to go hug his brother, swaying him harshly as he always did. “How is my little potato doing?” Gilbert coed.

 “I’m not a baby!” Ludwig always complained.

 “You will forever be a baby in my vision! So what brings you here? Feli not cooking tonight?”

 “Oma invited me over, also I need to tell you all something. What happened with Lovino?” They went ahead to the kitchen to help the family with what was left.

 “The typical. Just like it had been for us when we were kids.” Gilbert picked up different plates to place on the table.

 “You two couldn’t have possibly started your usual fight after fifteen years.”

 “Yep.”

 It made Ludwig question once again over that special dinner he would soon invite them all to. Feliciano was really risking a lot by inviting Lovino and Gilbert into the same table. He continued to listen never the less.

 “I tried, Lud! I really tried this time to be nice! But then he started getting defensive and he started insulting me and I just couldn’t let him tarnish me like that!” He placed the water jar rather harshly on the table, Ludwig ordering whatever fell out of place.

 “You refused to fix his car and gave him the finger,” Aldrich wanted to add.

 “He gave me no choice! He had to learn his lesson and see that he still can’t mess with me!” Gilbert defended.

 “Couldn’t you just have…talked it out,” Ludwig suggested as they all came and took their sitting at the table.

 “That was not possible! And stop trying to fix this, it’s impossible,” Gilbert was sure.

 “Let’s just eat, talk about something nicer and then Ludwig can tell us what he wants to let us know,” Aldrich declared and they all nodded, enjoying from the food and whatever chats arose between them.

 As they spoke on about what they had recently baked, exchanging recipes and tricks, they had their food to completion, Oma Louise bringing in the Iced sugar cookies she had last baked, decorated in a beautiful flower theme that had all picking and enjoying from.

 “So what is it that you want to tell us, Ludwig?” Aldrich addressed.

 Ludwig suddenly turned nervous, now more unsure especially after what Gilbert had earlier said. “Feliciano and I have something we want to announce. We’ll do so in a dinner this Saturday at Antico and we want both our families present to hear it.”

 “We’ll be there,” Aldrich decided.

 “Is it something we should be worried about?” Louis wondered.

 “No, nothing to panic about. We’ll just appreciate you all being there.”

 “Sounds great,” Ludwig’s father decided on attending.

 “An old Beilschmidt-Valenti dinner. I kind of missed those,” Monika excited.

 “Lovino is going to be there…isn’t he?” Gilbert had to bring that harsh reminder.

 Ludwig sighed, “it’s a family thing, Gilbert. We all have to be present.”

 “Can’t you just tell me now so I don’t have to submit myself to that,” Gilbert groaned, hoping.

 “It’s something very special, and we would prefer to celebrate it as that.”

 Gilbert rolled his eyes and groaned. “I’m not going then.”

 “Don’t be so immature, Gilbert,” Aldrich scolded.

 “We’ll probably get a large table,” Ludwig convinced.

 “Sit you as far away as possible,” Louis suggested.

 “You won’t even have to look at each other,” Reinhardt laughed.

 “I doubt that would stop Lovino,” Gilbert groaned.

 “Gilbert, please, just…please!” Ludwig angered, gripping his hands, slamming it in the air as if stopping himself from begging worst. “We’ll get you far, you won’t even have to talk or even gaze at each other. Just be there to listen to what me and Feliciano have to say and if you want to leave afterwards as quick as possible, do so. But please, try to behave and be there for me.” It was the serious tone to get Gilbert to think, to understand, to sigh in acceptance and tell himself that this was for his brother, for who he would do whatever possible always.

 He nodded, although still annoyed murmurs continuing under his breath.

 “Fine…”

 To Ludwig it was more than enough.

< previous chapter                                                                                                        next chapter >

[the-canary]

Heartbeat, Heartbreak - B.B (4/8)

Summary: Three musketeers until you started to fall in love. But, have you been living since then? (Modern!Reader/Bucky Barnes).  

Prompt: “That’s disgusting. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

A/N: This for @notimetoblog‘s writing challenge. this is getting so dramatic but please enjoy. no bucky in this one, but finally some nat. 

Feedback is always welcomed.

“All spare you the mundane details of that time, but, it all came full head after the 10th grade summer break.  Bucky went to some space camp, Nat went to a ballet workshop -- her dad made her. And I volunteered around until my family went on our summer annual trip. When school started...something was different, they left making googly eyes at each other, spending time together without me -- they had been trading letters all summer, something I didn’t think until much later. I started feeling left behind, than that happened---”

Thor gives the two of you a skeptical eye. You were sitting in a wet dress with a bandage around your hand, the red head -also wet- sitting to his right had a bruise swelling on her right cheek. You were look at the table and she was looking at you, but what grabs your attention is the blond man looking at his phone with a smile before turning to look at the mess that you are right now.

“I’ve already called Jane,” he explains, as you give him a weary smile, “Will you be alright if I leave for my meeting and when she comes?”

“I can manage,” you say with a dry laugh as the tree of a man pats your hand gently before getting up. Dual colored eyes move from looking at you to the Natasha, as he give you that look of call me and i’ll come rushing over. You nod and with a wave he is out of the mini medical ward housed in Stark Industries.

It’s when he’s finally out of earshot that Nat speaks: “He really cares about you.”

You bite your tongue in bitterness, semi-sure of what brought her here and completely unsure about the other half. You were sure she just could have talked to James to stop what he had been doing, if she really wanted to, unless they swung that way as a married couple. You frown at what the years could have done to these two, but maybe they have always been rotted to the core?

They certainly treated you that way when they saw no more use for you.

“Are you just going to pretend I’m not here?” Nat ask, as you move just a smidgen so that you are staring at her black boots. An annoyed sigh leaves her, as you lean onto the armrest a bit more, to alleviate the pain from the hit you took rushing through the side of your body.

“Can you wait for Jane to get here?” you groan out, as you bite back -- much to her pleasure since she hadn’t heard that voice in years, “When she gets here, then you can dish whatever it is you want to -- about you, about James, whatever. Just shut up for now, please.”

You don’t see Nat’s eyes widen at the sound of your voice crack and how it gets a bit more harder to talk for you, as you mention her name and Bucky’s. Her heart drops as she watches you slide further into the chair, as if you’re trying to protect yourself from whatever may come next. She had seen it once or twice before when you were younger, a defense mechanism for when you got scared and Bucky started to tease you, though Nat never thought it would directed towards her.

Nat straightens up a bit more, as she decides to ask: “Who’s Jane exactly?”

You let out a shuddering sigh thinking of the shorter woman for a moment --the one who worried too much and had even tried to set you up with her eccentric brother-in-law once-- as you finally look at Nat. She probably knows who Jane might be, but you strike the killing blow either way.

“She’s my best friend.”

Green eyes look away, as you place your head in the plush headrest, closing your eyes and wondering how exactly you got to this point.

You’re sure its a couple of days after that lunch meeting that you ran out of and had promptly excused yourself in front of Pepper and Tony for later on. They are the first thing that you see in the morning three days after you last seen James and there were really two people in the world that knew which flowers you liked and the meaning behind them, and you were sure that Loki wouldn’t seek you out from all the way in England -- hell, you hadn’t even made it past the first date.

No, there is only one person --from that summer when you were just too into the new flower shop up the block and reading too much into Alice in Wonderland-- who knew that the bouquet of flowers meant to you. You let out a shuddering sigh, trying to stay calm and level headed --though that was becoming more difficult the more you dealt with James Barnes.

You weren’t going to deny it was nice gesture, but deep down the image of him, Natasha, and the baby she had with her that day lingered and festered in your heart like an open wound. You move a bit closer, chest feeling as heavy as cement, as you see a small note between the lilies and gardenias

Please...I just want to talk.

It’s all the note says and with that you grab the vase and throw it into the closest trash bin. You walk back out and ask the floor’s receptionist to not accept any flowers on your behalf.

The flowers keep coming everyday until the front desk seems like a well-tended garden. However, you keep moving forward without a glance towards them.

Sam keeps telling you that James won’t close the deal without talking over the final details with you. However, you keep saying no, that he can close it without you like he had done a handful of times before.

Chester Phillips eventually enters the picture and though he gives you some sterns words, he knows by now that your silence isn’t something that is so easily gained. And for a moment, it even worries the older man.

“You know, this isn’t just about the deal,” Sam tells you one day when he decides to buy you lunch in a cafe not that far from the Tower,”All that anger and sentiment that you feel towards James and this Natasha, it might just wash away when you get closure.”

You eyes turn to him, as he gives you, before taking a bite out of his burger,  a smile that sinks your heart at the sight that someone --and in extension so many people-- care about you and your well-being. You shake your head.

“I wish that things like this were easier to let go of though,” you murmur before going back to eating your meal.

You think it’s only a matter of time before Natasha finds out what James has been doing and towards who it had been directed towards and while you think you are prepared to see the redhead face-to-face. It is a completely different thing when you see her waiting by the fountain area of Stark Tower, as you walk briskly and hoping that she didn’t see you or even didn’t recognize you.

“Hey!” the call of your name echoes in your ears for a moment, as you walk a bit faster than before. All the anger you might have felt decides to leave you at that moment as a cold stone causes you to run in to the building and that’s where security stops her, as you only glance for a quick second before you head to the safety of your floor.

You obviously don’t remember that Natasha was as stubborn, even more so, than you as you head outside for lunch only to see that she is still waiting near the fountain area while playing on her phone and for  brief moment, you wonder where her baby could be. Though, you are sure that James made enough money to hire a good, if not permanent babysitter.

You remember what Sam told you a while back and while you couldn't stand looking at James for all he had done, Natasha --the silent variable in your dilemma-- is a completely different story, a different sort of pain that came with being a friend betrayed and thrown aside.

She probably knows that you are heading in her direction before anything else, but chooses until you are standing in front of her to look up.

“What do you want?” you asks, as green as take in your form for a moment. The changes in both of you were obvious, but it had been that red hair and green eyes that caught your attention -- Natasha had always demanded your attention in some way.

“To talk, catch up,” she states, making light of the situation in her own way like she used to. And while years ago a younger you might have laughed at that, this time --the last thing you remember before Thor pulled you out of the fountain area-- you end up pushing her straight in the freezing water behind her.

Jane come in after twenty minutes of silence between the two of you, as she glances at Natasha before huddling over on you and asking everything that had happened and if you were all right. You just nod numbly, already placing that layer of numbness over your emotions that Jane had gotten used to seeing over the years, as you give her a shaky smile.

“Are you alright —“ Jane pauses, waiting for her name even though she already knows it.

“Natasha Romanoff,” she states and while you are mildly surprised that there is no Barnes at the end of it, you wouldn’t be too surprised if she had decides to keep her maiden name. Life was so much more easier that way.

“And you are?” Nat asks back, as Jane smiles completely unaware of how the poised smile might be hiding something underneath.

“Dr. Jane Odison,” she states just as proudly as you briefly remember how pretty Jane looked the day of her wedding.

After pleasantries are exchanged a thick silence hangs between the three of you because you aren’t willing to ask what Nat wants and she seems to be assessing the situation, as Jane looks between the both of you for more than a moment.

“I didn’t know that Bucky had asked you out that night,” she admits and you scoff, making sure to show that you don’t believe her in any sense of the world. She grips her hands to her jeans.

“That certainly didn’t stop you once you found out,” you bite back, as she is thrown into silence because it’s true -- in the long run, Nat choose James in the end and without an explanation stopped talking to you all together.

“There’s more to it than that,” Nat tries her best to explain as Jane keeps a hold on your hand, “I know I never got to explain it, but I want to do so now.”

“Why so you could—“

You start off with all the bitterness and anger spilling forth ok the tip of your tongue, as Natasha slams her hand on the table in front of her causing both you and Jane to jump.

“Whatever illusion you have stuck in your head from seeing James and I that day isn’t true,” Nat says in a sort of desperation, years in the making, that you have never heard from her before, “I’m not married to James and he isn’t Rosie’s father.”

You bite your bottom lip and hold onto to Jane’s hand just a little bit tighter than before. However, the words seem to be stuck in your throat, but Jane has known you long enough to know what you might be thinking.

“If we could find somewhere calmer to speak about all this,” Jane’s blue eyes find green ones as you lay your head on her shoulder, “Then I’m sure she would be willing to listen. I’m can safely say it would be best for all three of you to get closure on this.”

Natasha sighs and agrees, as you simple nod. The two of them eventually pick a place and time that is between the Stark Tower and where you could only guess she can live now, but with so many questions and emotions running through your head, you don’t say anything as Natasha gets up after calling on a carshare, or whatever she was doing on her phone --that miraculously didn’t get destroyed-- as Jane bid her farewell a bit tersely.

“Let’s get you home,” Jane pushes you gently, as you simply nod, “Don’t worry, we can forget all about today, maybe get some movies and ice cream.”

“Sure,” you say letting out a dry laugh, as she helps you get up and you make it through one of the many hallways and into the underground parking that leads to her car.

However, it wasn’t an easy thing forget, but whether you liked it or not -- it was time to move on.  

[skylanders-after-the-end]

From Riches to Rags

It was on an island far away from the Academy. A collection of islands filled with pompous houses and luxurious decorations. At least what was left of it. Years ago, the home of many goldlings has lost its former glory and resembled a ghost town. It also used to be Sprocket’s home. However, she didn’t leave because of the unpleasant changes, in fact she would have preferred this over the sophiscticated and entitled life she was forced into. Nevertheless, the goldling never wished for this to happen. Sprocket was walking down the familiar road leading to her former home, one of the bigger mansions in the area. She could feel a sensation of nostalgia rushing through her, awakening both good and bad memories. She stepped onto the three small stairs leading to the front door and stopped there. The technician took a deep breath before knocking. After a few seconds, a woman opened the door, visibly annoyed. But as soon as she laid eyes on the Skylander in front of her, her frown turned into a relieved smile.

“Sprocket!” The goldling went in for a hug, which Sprocket happily returned. After the brief embrace, the woman kept on smiling as she observed Sprocket from head to toe. “It’s been so long, you’ve grown so much!”

“Mom, please. I haven’t grown an inch ever since I left.” The goldling reminded her overwhelmed mother of the day she finally left her family home to become a Skylander. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, and I can’t stay for too long either.”

The goldling’s smile faded. “What’s going on? Are you in trouble?”

“Not exactly.” Sprocket rubbed the back of her head and tried to think of a short explanation for her situation, but ultimately failed. “I’ll explain everything, but let’s get inside first.”

The mother’s lips formed a gentle smile as she led her daughter back into her old home.

A long time ago, when the goldling town was thriving with its remarkable businesses and profits, Sprocket lived under one roof with her parents. They were a highly respected family and always made sure that their reputation and status would remain the way it was for generations, something Sprocket couldn’t care less about. She has always been the black sheep of the family and preferred to get her hands dirty and tinker with tools and machines. Meanwhile her mother was determined to groom her spawn to become a formidable woman in society just like herself.

The whole family was gathered around the dinner table. Mother, father, grandparents, the aunt and her kids. All but one – typical. “Sprocket!” Grace shouted as she put the last pieces of cutlery on the table. “Not one day passes without this girl making a scene.” The impatient woman walked into the kitchen, where she removed the soup from the stove. “Sprocket get down here already!”

With an annoyed sigh, the young goldling stepped out of her room and walked down the stairs into the dining room. She stopped in front of the table and moved her long red hair behind her shoulders, so it wouldn’t get in the way of eating. Before she could sit down, her mother stopped her with an insulted gasp.

“What have you done to your dress!?” Her eyes were fixed on a small black oil stain on the bright blue fabric. She roughly grabbed the dress to get a closer look.

Sprocket hated dresses. She hated them so much, she once dreamt about throwing them all into a dumpster fire. Her mother knows that yet insists on her wearing them, because that’s what’s expected of a goldling woman.

Sprocket, surprised and irritated, pulled her dress back down. “It was an accident! It won’t happen again.”

“You said that the last time.” Grace gave her daughter a disappointed look while she rolled her eyes. “And the time before that!”

“Maybe if you let me wear something else when I go to uncle, I wouldn’t get the dress dirty!” Sprocket replied and crossed her arms protesting.

“No young lady, you won’t get anything else to wear because you won’t be going to your uncle anymore!” The goldling shook her head and looked over to her husband. “Can you believe it? She still wants to visit him! I told her hundreds of times that a lady doesn’t belong in a dirty shack with engines and tools!”

“Darling, don’t be so harsh.” The father was considerably calmer and more reserved than the hysterical mother. “You know how kids are, they love to explore and-”

“But she’s not a kid anymore!” Grace responded and looked at the ever so annoyed Sprocket again. “Tomorrow is her eighteenth birthday! She will be an adult, she has to learn to take responsibility!”

Sprocket couldn’t hear her mother’s nagging anymore. “I’m out of here.” At a quick pace, the young goldling walked away from the family lunch and left the house, slamming the door on her way out.

With a deep sigh, Grace eventually decided to simply sit down and start eating. The rest of the family stared at her uncomfortably before receiving a deadly look and beginning to eat as well.

Exiting the front door, Sprocket turned left and took a few steps until she was in front of a small wooden shack right next to her mansion. Due to their tireless bickering, Sprocket’s mother and uncle concluded that the inventor should have his own home where he could tend to his work. With an excited smile on her face, Sprocket opened the small door. Her eyes sparkled as she saw hundreds of tools and mechanical parts scattered everywhere. Even though her house was six times as big, she always felt like the shack was far more spacious. “Hey uncle!” The teenager interrupted the professional engineer during his job.

Oscar turned his chair and moved his welding mask on top of his head, revealing a friendly smile surrounded by a scruffy red beard. “Sprocket! You’re back!” The hefty man stood up and approached his niece. “Did your table manners upset your mother again?”

Sprocket rolled her eyes once more. “She saw the oil stain on my dress and lectured me about my role in society again.” The goldling quickly got distracted by one of her uncle’s shimmering inventions on top of his working desk and forgot her mother’s nagging for a moment.

Oscar sighed. “I was hoping she’d loosen up someday, but at this point even the Ancients couldn’t change her mind.” The feeling of disappointment got washed away after seeing his niece grab the first tools she saw and turning around to continue working on her own little project. “Is it done yet?”

“Almost.” The aspiring engineer wore the same goggles that she would end up wearing as a Skylander as she was adding the finishing touches. “I just need to get all the gears into place and… done!”

Sprocket grabbed the object and revealed that it was an elegant music box. She proudly presented it to her uncle who was gleaming with pride. “It looks lovely, but does it sound the way it looks?”

Sprocket, without any doubts, winded the key on the back of the box. The lid opened up and a small porcelain ballerina was spinning to the sound of a gentle melody. “Maybe this will finally show mother that engineering isn’t just all about engines and dirty work.”

“Maybe…” The uncle truly hoped that the gift Sprocket made would open his sister’s eyes and that she would finally see how much this truly meant to her daughter.

Later that afternoon, when Grace said her goodbyes to the family, the woman decided to visit her brother in his small workshop. As soon as she opened the door, her face twisted unpleasantly upon the stinging smell of steam and gasoline. Oscar was working with an electric saw and didn’t hear his sister step in and repeatedly call his name.

“Oscar!” The goldling shouted which finally made her brother stop and look at her.

“Grace, what a surprise.” A not so welcoming greeting.

The two siblings were always polar opposites. Grace following society and fitting into its system, while Oscar always had more of a mind of his own and didn’t care about what others thought of him, much like Sprocket.

With a disgusted expression, Grace pulled out a tissue to clean a chair from all the debris before sitting on it. “I’m assuming Sprocket visited you again, didn’t she?”

“If I said yes, you would go off and lecture her about her place in life. If I said no, you would do the same.” Uncle never liked the way his sister raised and treated Sprocket, but she was her daughter, so he didn’t have much of a say in it.

Grace sighed. She looked around herself to see all the machines and structures her brother built over the years, many of which were also in her own home. She never cared much for technology but seeing how much work he puts into it, it did fascinate a part of her. “Oscar, you know why I’m doing this.”

“To create a carbon copy of yourself.” The engineer didn’t even bother to give his older sister a look and just continued with his work.

“No! No, of course not.” Grace was very much aware of what her educational method looked like, and frankly she didn’t like it either. “You know just as well as I do, that she can’t just do whatever she wants.”

Oscar was silent this time. Even though he was focused on his work, he was listening.

“Do you think I want her to grow up like this? I’m trying to prepare her for her best possible future.” There was a hint of tenderness, almost sadness in the mother’s eyes. “I can’t change the way things are here.”

Oscar put his tools down and stopped working. He stared at the machine in front of him for a few more moments before finally looking his sister in the eyes. “You can’t change this place, but you can’t change Sprocket either.”

The goldling mother sighed once more. “She just has to learn that there are rules here. Presenting herself as expected is one of them.” Grace caught herself fiddling her dress and quickly stopped, hoping her brother didn’t notice. “A woman working with machines and tools, you know where she would end up.”

Oscar was silent again. As a man, he never had many problems following his path as an inventor and engineer, but in the goldling society there were strict rules regarding the sexes and what they should and shouldn’t do. “Then let her go somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else-” She had to catch her breath after hearing that sentence. Grace got up from the chair and turned around. The thought of her daughter leaving and possibly never being able to see her again brought tears to her eyes, which she wiped off immediately before heading for the door. “Clearly you don’t have the best intentions for my daughter in mind. It was foolish of me to think you’d understand. Goodbye, Oscar.”

Oscar was about to say something, but before he could his sister left the shack and slammed the door shut. Even though they didn’t always get along, the siblings did love each other, even if Grace had a strange way of showing it. Uncle knew that, and he learned to be patient. However, that patience often came with a lot of hurting as well.

The sun was slowly setting, and the sky was painted in orange hues. Grace walked up the stairs to get to the first floor of the enormous mansion. At Sprocket’s door, before she opened it, she could hear strange noises from inside. She moved her head closer to hear it more clearly, until it suddenly stopped. With a confused look, she finally knocked on her daughter’s door.

Upon opening it, she could see Sprocket on her bed, without a book or any tool. She was simply sitting there, staring at the light blue striped wallpaper on the walls of her room. “Sprocket, I…” The mother wasn’t sure how to continue when Sprocket turned her sight to her. She forgot what she wanted to say.

“You what?” Sprocket answered without her annoyed undertone for once.

Seeing her there with that expectant look, it made Grace feel so uncertain. She remembered now, she wanted to talk about her daughter’s future. She wanted to hear it from Sprocket herself, what she truly wanted to do. But perhaps they should discuss that at the family table. “I wanted to tell you that dinner is almost ready.”

Before the goldling could leave and close the door, Sprocket sat up and let her feet hang from the bed. “Mom, wait!”

Mom – that was a word she hasn’t heard in a while. Sprocket has been addressing her with ‘you’ for years now. Hearing that child-like word again made her feel somewhat warm. “Yes, darling?”

Sprocket looked to her right and opened the small drawer next to her bed. Slowly, she pulled out a beautifully decorated music box. It shimmered in turquoise and golden colors, something you’d only see on the shelves of a nobility family.

“What’s that?” Grace took her hand off the door handle and walked towards Sprocket, investigating the object in her hands.

“I… made it for you.” Sprocket quickly got up to stand in front of her mother who gave her a shocked look before she wound the box up. When she was done, the lid opened, and a small pearl colored ballerina started to spin to a sweet lullaby.

Grace took the box into her own hands and looked at it strangely while it was playing. She looked back up at Sprocket with disbelief and then back at the box.

“I know you don’t like engines and tools and all that mechanical stuff, so I wanted to give you something more… delicate.” Sprocket was quite nervous, rubbing her hands and curving her lips into cramped smiles. Mother strictly forbid her to build such things, but she was hoping that this could finally change her mind. “Maybe now you will-”

Before Sprocket could finish, Grace closed the box, stopping the spinning figure and the melody. The teenager’s face faded into a sad gaze as the mother closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You know what I told you about this.”

This was exactly what Sprocket was afraid of. “I know but-”

“No buts Sprocket!” Suddenly, all the warmth and compassion the goldling felt moments ago was gone, and all she could see was her daughter’s future on the streets, rejected by society. That was the picture she formed in her mind over all the years when Sprocket would misbehave and go her own ruthless way. “I won’t say it again, you are not to go to your uncle, and you are not to work with mechanics like these!”

The woman looked across the room until she finally found a trash bin standing in a corner. Without hesitation, she walked up to it and threw the carefully crafted box inside. “No!” Sprocket rushed to the bin and fell onto her knees to take the music box out, which was now in two pieces and had several gears falling out.

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s just some gears and metal.” Without a hint of sympathy, Grace walked back to the door and was about to leave again. “Get down in five minutes.”

“I made it for you.” Sprocket kept staring at the destroyed gift through her red strands of hair with sadness, which soon turned into anger. “And you just threw it away!” She turned around and got back up, looking at her mother with more spite and rage than ever before. “You destroyed it, that’s what you always do!”

“You will not raise your voice at me young lady!” Grace had zero tolerance for Sprocket’s reaction and wanted the argument to be over with. “If you had bought it instead, I may have kept it.”

“But the point was that I made it!” Sprocket screamed at the top of her lungs, which made her mother flinch before giving her an angered look as well.

“Forget this already! Grow up Sprocket, you have to realize that life doesn’t work the way you want it to!” Grace gave her daughter another glaring look before turning around to finally leave the room.

Moments before the door closed, Sprocket said something in a calm tone. “I hate you.” With tears running down her golden face, she clenched her broken music box and stared at her mother’s back.

Grace held in and took a deep breath. She wanted to say something but decided to leave it be and go down. This was the point of no return.

The evening went on. Sprocket stayed in her room, sobbing and shouting her lungs out. Grace ignored it casually and kept her husband from leaving the table while he worried about the teenager. Once she finally calmed down, Sprocket was sitting in her bed, trying her best to fix the music box. Not for her mother, but for herself. She has decided that she hates her mother. Pure genuine hate. She used to think it wasn’t possible to hate your own parents, but now she had no reason to believe that you had to love them. All of a sudden, she heard a crash downstairs. A scream followed by more crashing sounds. Then she heard someone shouting, a voice she never heard before.

Forgetting all the hate and sorrow, Sprocket carefully got out of her bed, trying not to make a noise. She opened her door and peeked through it to hear a male voice shout something about money and threatening to kill someone. Her heart was beating at the speed of a car engine. Sprocket has never felt this many emotions at once in her life. The goldling steadily walked along the hallway of the first floor until she reached the stairs. She quietly took one step after the other while hearing more loud crashing noises and voices yelling. She walked down the stairs until she could finally see through the kitchen door. The goldling saw a masked figure pointing a gun at her parents, who were shaking of fear while getting yelled at. Bang! Sprocket blinked and in the next moment her mother was screaming as her father sank to the floor and a red stain appeared on his white shirt.

Sprocket couldn’t breathe. For a second it felt like she was in a dream before realizing what was going on. The goldling couldn’t do anything but stand there until she instinctively moved back up the stairs. The next few seconds passed her like a flash. Sprocket kept staring at the light on the carpet floor coming from the kitchen as sirens could be heard outside of the building. The intruders grabbed the first valuable objects they found and stuffed it inside their bags before running away.

Sprocket finished her walk down the stairs, her eyes glued to her father. A puddle of blood was spreading on the floor underneath him and his glassy eyes reflected the bright light of the kitchen lamp. She kneeled next to her desperately sobbing mother. Sprocket couldn’t hold back and started crying as well. The two women were coughing and sobbing as they looked at the lifeless body of their husband and father, bleeding out on the floor. Their tears fell onto their dresses and they embraced each other unlike ever before. Despite everything that’s happened and everything they said, in that moment all they wanted was to hold each other.

After the grieving women calmed down, Sprocket hurried to see if her uncle was alright. Yet another shock awaited her, he has been kidnapped. The halved family soon found out that there was a brutal ambush on the entire town. Countless goldlings got killed and hurt and their homes robbed. Some, like Oscar, were kidnapped by the intruders. No one knew where they came from, but it was safe to assume that it was Kaos’ doing.

While her father’s body was being removed, and an officer explained what would happen next to her mother, all Sprocket could think of was that one moment. Bang! The shot that took her father echoed through her mind again and again. Hours passed, the rising sun announced a new day – Sprocket’s birthday. Neither her nor her mother could sleep. It was supposed to be a day of joy, a day without any fights and where the family would come together to celebrate, but that was impossible now. For Sprocket, it was also the day where she would finally become an adult - make her own decisions and escape her mother. And it would remain that day. The young adult was standing in the bathroom, staring at her face in the mirror. Goldling skin was normally radiant and shimmering, but today it looked pale and dull, almost like rust. She held a scissor in her hands and after another lasting look, she finally made the first cut. A strand of her long red hair fell into the sink, then the next one, and several more. After a few minutes, her hair was cut short, not going past her chin. It felt liberating.

The quiet goldling went downstairs where her mother was holding an empty cup which has been filled with coffee five times during the last night. When she walked past her single parent without giving her a look, Grace was beside herself upon seeing her daughter’s new haircut. She didn’t have the energy or intention to comment on it, they have both been through enough.

Sprocket went into her uncle’s shack, which has also been vandalized and robbed. She took one of his old pants and some parts of his armor and changed into it. She grabbed an abnormally large wrench and attached a gas bottle and a pressure gauge to her suit, completing the look she would barely change even after joining the Skylanders. And that’s where she was going. She had heard of the Skylanders, never showing much interest in joining, until now. She thought it was the best place for her to use her abilities to help those in need and maybe even find her uncle someday. The goldling told her mother about her plans, who for the first time didn’t even try to stop her. She simply nodded and agreed to everything she said. They hugged one last time and told each other dry goodbyes before the aspiring engineer left her home to start a new life as a Skylander.

Now, many years later, Sprocket was sitting back at the table where her family used to dine, and where she would rebel against her mother’s rules. She visited the lonely woman from time to time, reassuring each other that they were fine. The town has become quite poor and miserable due to the great robbery and many murders, but they’ve managed to keep a consistent lifestyle again, even though it was far less luxurious than before.

“So, you are looking for the Golden Queen, on your own, because she wasn’t able to turn you into a statue?” After Sprocket explained her mission and motivations, her mother attempted to make sense of it. “Why didn’t you ask someone to join you?”

“Because I need to find out the truth.” Sprocket was beginning to doubt herself as well, but she had to focus on her goal. “If the others tagged along, we would get into a fight right away and I couldn’t get a chance to talk.”

“Darling, I don’t think she will give you a chance to talk to her either.” Grace sipped her tea. “That goldling is the worst of the worst.”

“I know, but something tells me that I have to do this.” Sprocket took a sip from her tea as well, which she’s grown to enjoy over the years. “You know that nothing can stop me once I’ve set my mind to something.”

Grace giggled. “I sure do.” She looked her daughter in the eyes and felt nothing but pride. It may have been due to the fact that the town wasn’t the most admirable place in Skylands anymore, or because she was afraid of losing her daughter as well if she didn’t leave. The goldling was proud of the woman that Sprocket has become, despite everything else she wanted for her. She was happy that she was living her dream.

“I should get going now.” Sprocket got up from her chair. As she turned around to walk to the door, something odd caught her eye. On top of the shelf above the fireplace, next to a collection of old family pictures, was the old music box Sprocket gave her mother the day before her birthday. She walked up to it and saw that it has been messily put together, clearly by someone without any experience.

Grace was behind her and recalled. She found it in Sprocket’s room on the day she left and broke out in tears after remembering the terrible things she said and did, and that it was too late to fix that. But it wasn’t too late to fix the box. “I tried to put it back together, but-”

Grace was interrupted by the sobbing sounds of her daughter. She approached Sprocket to see that she’s started to cry while looking at the gift. “I thought you would throw it away.”

The goldling immediately embraced her child in a warming hug. “I made that mistake once and I will never forgive myself for it.” Tears formed in Grace’s eyes and ran down her faded golden face. “I love you, Sprocket. I never told you that enough.”

“I love you too, mom.” Sprocket choked while continuing to sob.

The small family gave each other the long overdue forgiving embrace, and they finally felt at peace. The mother and daughter told each other goodbye, with Sprocket promising to visit Grace again on her way back to the Academy. Outside the mansion, Sprocket could feel something vibrating in her travel bag. It was the communication device. Slightly worried, she pressed a button to hear the message that she received. “Sprocket listen to me! The others know about your plan…” It was Smolderdash’s warning. Sprocket was alarmed, she had to hurry to get to the Golden Queen and confront her before it was too late.