#she and Hope both take pain medicine in pill form tomorrow .. so hoping that helps her ..

[yoshistory]

olive just tried getting up and almost fell right over and instead backed up a LOT and cowered with her tail tucked and reluctantly layed back down again. petting her back now makes her flinch bad and gently try and kick me away from her. but laying down and gently petting her head still makes her purr a lot. im worried the purrs are from being in pain ... she can still eat and eats heartily .. but cant seem to get up r/n

[officialcharactersimp]

Mending & Amends

(Graduation Gift Part 4)

Summary: the fourth installment of my graduation gift series (can be found on my masterlist). This picks up literally seconds after the end of pt 3 with Natasha trying to find ways to make amends and get you to trust her again. No smut, but still not appropriate.

A/N: author’s note WC: 3k (holy heck)

CW: dark fic; mommy!nat; there is no porn, I repeat no porn; but there is mommy milk/breastfeeding; reader is injured; dubcon existence; 18+ only, do you hear me??

While you’re out, Natasha has time to tend to your injuries without you cowering and crying. Without all the guilt.

She picks your limp form up gently and brings you back out to the basement proper and lays you face-down on the bed-crib. She goes to get some medical supplies and cleans you up, then bandages the open bits and rubs some healing salve all over you. With only a few strikes having landed on your core, she’s satisfied with rubbing some of the salve there.

She gets you to drink some water from a bottle in your sleep, your natural instincts she’s been nurturing taking over. She checks your temperature, a solid 99, which isn’t too bad. She wipes the sweat and tear-tracks from your face, then brushes your hair out again. She lays down beside you and drapes an arm over your waist, burying her face into the back of your neck as she tries to think of what she’ll do when you wake up.

An idea forms slowly as she runs her hand along your waist. Yes, that will work. You might not like it at first, but it will work if she bears through it. She’s not sure how much of the fear and pain on your face she can handle, but she needs to.

She moves you off the bed to make it up nice, then sets you down gently, face down. Whenever you’re healed up you’ll be able to lay on your back, but right now that’s not possible. She ties your hands and feet to frame corners with plenty of slack—she wants you to be able to move.

Finally, she reluctantly removes your collar, biting her lip as she does so. It looked so precious on you, a symbol of the progress of your relationship. All gone now, thanks to her paranoia and overreaction. As much as she doesn’t want to remove it, it’s not right to keep it on if it speaks a lie.

Then she waits for you to come to. It shouldn’t be much longer now, maybe another half hour or so. She sits in the rocking chair in the corner, anxiously bouncing her leg. She needs to get herself under control before you wake. She knows her little baby needs for her to be the collected, caring, soothing mommy right now, and that you will for some time.

You mumble a little as you begin to stir, picking your head up a little. She takes a deep breath and smiles before going over and crouching down to look at your face while she gently tucks your hair back.

“Hey baby,” she says softly. “How’s my little sleepyhead feeling?” she asks. You whimper and inch away from her.

“D-don’ touch me,” you stammer.

“It’s okay baby, mommy isn’t gonna hurt you,” she says.

She sits down beside you. “I am so so sorry about what I did earlier. I was scared you were gonna try to leave me and get hurt. It’s a nasty drop from that window. But I didn’t take the time to think past my initial reaction or ask you, and that was wrong. I overreacted out of fear and anger without stopping to think, and I’m so sorry, little one. I never should have done that,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes. You turn your head to look up at her, eyes searching hers for any sign of ingenuity. You find only regret and sadness.

“You mean it?” you ask softly.

“Yes baby,” she says. “And mommy promises never to punish you without talking first or before taking some deep breaths, okay?” she says.

“Pinky promise?” you ask.

“Pinky promise,” she sticks out her pinky to hook with yours. She’s thrilled that you’re already starting to be a bit little again. As you move to interlock with her, you notice the restraints.

“Wait, what?” all traces of your headspace are gone as you jerk up to look around at your tied limbs. “What the hell?”

“Baby, it’s to keep you safe. See? They’re not tight or anything,” she tugs on all the loose rope.

“This is insane! All of this is insane!” you shout at her for the first time in weeks. It breaks her heart even more.

“I told you, mommy’s gonna fix what she did. Mommy’s gonna show you you can trust me again, gonna take care of you, of everything. Make it so this collar means something again,” she taps it on the bedside table, just out of your reach. You bury your face in your pillow and sob.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s gonna make it all better,” she curls up beside you and puts an arm over you again. Despite how upset you are, you lean into it, wanting the physical comfort you associate with her.

“How’s your bottom?” she asks.

“Hurts,” you mumble.

“Do you think some Advil might help?” she asks. You nod and she gets up briefly to go get it. “Here you go, baby,” you tilt your head up and she puts the pills in, then grabs your bottle of water. You roll your eyes but suck on it to get the water to wash the pills down. You nod a thank you.

“Are you hungry?” she asks. You nod. “What do you want? I’ll even go drive through somewhere if that will help,” she says. You think for a moment.

“McDonalds?” you ask hopefully. She nods and smooths your hair back.

“McDonalds will be here soon,” she assures you. “Mommy has to go see a friend, too, so it works out. I’ll be back in half an hour or so, okay?” she says. You nod.

She kisses your head, which you recoil from, and leaves. You’re left alone to lay face-down on the crib-bed, restrained and in pain, until she returns. It’s silent. It’s lonely. You’ve grown used to either having Natasha or the sounds of the TV running since you came down here.

You think back to this morning. Everything was so different. You honestly trusted her this morning, even if it wasn’t the strongest trust. But this afternoon reminded you that she was an unstable, dangerous, paranoid lunatic. And it scared you.

Truth be told, you’ve grown to like being “little,” as Natasha calls it, letting yourself stop thinking too much and trust your mommy—Natasha, you correct yourself—to take care of you. You liked playing with her and cuddling. And when she touched you, it felt so good. So much better than when you had touched yourself. You felt loved and cared for in some twisted way.

But that was all in the past, now. You’d been doing so well, both of you, and now this. How does she expect you to trust her again? You’re not sure. You turn your head and close your eyes.

—

“You’re sure this will work, Wan?” Natasha asks her friend anxiously as she pulls her shirt back on. The red glow around her is fading. Her bra feels painfully tight and she winces.

“I’m positive. It worked for me, and especially given that you told me it’s happened before with those meds. If not tonight, by tomorrow for sure. And here’s these,” she hands Natasha a package. “They’ll be much more comfortable.”

“Thanks, Wanda. I don’t know what I’d do without you, in all honesty,” she says. Wanda smiles and hugs her.

“I could say the same to you,” she smiles. “Go on, get back to your little one,” she shoos her playfully. Natasha waves and leaves, then drives by McDonalds as promised. She’s back in a little over half an hour to see you dozing. It warms her heart to see her precious baby sleeping.

“Come on, little one, mommy brought your food,” she says, shaking you gently. You open your eyes and push yourself up off of the bed some. “Let’s get you comfy,” she helps you find a position that isn’t too uncomfortable for your aching rear, then hands you your food. “What do we say?” she asks.

“Thank you,” you say with a french fry in your mouth. She smiles. The mommy will come back later. She won’t push it for tonight.

“Do you wanna watch some cartoons?” she asks. They always engross you and help you into your littlespace. You nod and she flicks through the TV until she finds one she knows you like.

You both eat in relative silence, watching the TV. At least you’re not trying to cower anymore. That’s good, right? Progress? She hopes so.

“I’m gonna use the potty,” she tells you, then gets up. You don’t notice her bring the package with her as does.

When she returns, you notice something different about her, but you can’t tell what. It’s a small difference, then. Maybe she just fixed her hair. She’s smiling though.

You’re finished with your food soon enough, and the show ends shortly after.

“Let’s get you in the bath now baby, hm?” she suggests. You feel gross anyways, so you nod. She unties you and scoops you up in her arms.

“Let me down!” you squirm.

“Hush now, like mommy told you, I’m gonna take care of everything. Gonna show you you can trust me again,” she says. You squirm all the way to the bathroom anyways. She sets you down on the toilet facing the wall, almost straddling it.

“Huh?” you ask.

“It’s less pressure on your little bottom,” she explains. You nod and use the toilet while she gets the tub ready, but when you go to get some toilet paper, Natasha beats you to it. “I’ve got it, baby,” she says, wiping your tender area gently. You wince and try to get away from her.

“Stop it, I’m not a baby!” you try to grab her hand and move it, but she stays still, unmoving.

“Come on, little one. I know you’re in there. I know you want to let mommy take care of you,” she says. You shake your head. “Baby, this is about me proving to you that you can trust me to take care of you,” her voice is even. “I want you to choose to let me prove it to you. That’s why I haven’t given you any of the medicine I used to. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to believe how much I care about you again,” she says.

“But—“ you don’t know what you were planning on saying. “But I wanna do it myself. I can do it myself,” your voice is quiet as you lose your grip on her wrist, barely audible.

“That’s the thing, precious,” she steps closer to you, finishing her task and then using her other hand to pet your head. “I know you can do it. But you don’t have to. That’s why I’m here,” she says. You groan and lean forward on the toilet tank. “Come on, you’ll feel better when you’re clean,” she picks you up and sets you in the tub, then flushes the toilet.

You sigh and let her bathe you. Your body is too sore from getting dragged and caned to wash yourself that effectively anyways. When she gets to your most sensitive areas though, you squirm away from her and reach for the soap.

“It’s too sore. I wanna wash it myself,” you say quietly.

“I’m gonna be so careful, you won’t even notice,” she gently moved your hand away and got the soap again. Tears brimmed in your eyes and your bottom lip started to form a pout. “No, baby, don’t cry,” she gasps, petting your cheek. “Tell mommy what’s going on,” she says.

“I’m scared,” you say. “I don’t want you to touch it because you hurt me,” you say. Her heart breaks again.

“Okay, sweetie, how about this: we can do it together,” she takes your hand and puts it over hers, then begins to wash you gentler than ever. Your breathing hitches and your heart kicks up, but it’s over before it can go into full-blown panic.

“All done. You did such a good job, little one,” she praises you. “Ready to get out, or do you want to play in the water some?” she asks.

“Ready to get out,” you say. She picks you up out of the bath and dries you off with a soft towel before taking you out to the bed. She pulls on a soft shirt, leaving your bottom half uncovered so as not to irritate it. She changes into the spare pjs she keeps down here and crawls into bed beside you. You don’t welcome or recoil from her touch, which she’ll take as progress.

Her chest is still dully aching, but she knows she’s pushed you far enough for tonight. Maybe tomorrow she’ll be able to coax you into it.

—

When day comes again, Natasha is treating you the way she did when she first brought you down here, only with gentleness and tenderness where there was hardness and strictness before. The lack of the sedative drugs in your system makes it more difficult, but she’s able to maneuver your squirming form through the daily ritual of getting up, using the toilet, getting dressed, brushing your hair and teeth, and finally breakfast. Whenever she can, she has you laying on your stomach on the bed, and this is one thing you don’t protest.

You notice her shifting in discomfort the whole morning though, and despite how much you dislike her at the moment, you hate to see her in pain. You work up the courage to ask after a while of watching cartoons.

“Are you hurt?” you ask.

“I… well, I have a side effect from a treatment I had done that’s causing me discomfort,” she admits.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “That sucks.”

“There’s a way you can help me,” she says, sounding more timid than you’ve heard her maybe ever before.

“What is it?” you ask. To your confusion, she started to unbutton her shirt, and then she unclips her bra, but from the top? What?

“Huh?” you blurt out.

“I’m lactating,” she says simply, squeezing her nipple a little, causing a drop of what can only be breast milk to come of it.

“I—what do you want me to do about it?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“They hurt because they’re too full,” she explains. “And it would be really helpful if you would, well… empty them. I don’t have a breast pump, of course,” she says.

“Wait, like, you want me to—to drink your milk?” you’re turning bright red. Even after everything you’ve done with her, you’re almost unbearably embarrassed.

“Yes, baby, it would really help me, plus I think that you’ll like it. And it could help us…feel closer,” she chooses her words carefully, gauging your reaction.

“It’s kinda weirding me out,” you say honestly.

“Just try it, please, baby? It’ll help me feel so much better. And I promise, if you hate it after a little while then I’ll get a pump,” she crosses her fingers behind her back.

“I… okay,” you say. This whole situation is so absurd you can hardly bother trying to resist it. She smiles and adjusts the both of you to where you can reach her breast.

It’s not like you haven’t had her tits in your mouth before. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous right now. Natasha gently puts a hand on the back of your head and pushes you a little closer. You wrap your mouth around her nipple hesitantly, unsure of what to do.

“It’s like your bottle, sweetheart,” she senses your confusion. You tentatively begin sucking, and you’re surprised by the flow of milk into your mouth. You jerk back, but Natasha keeps your head in place, groaning in relief.

When the initial shock wears off, you realize she was right—you do like it. It’s warm and sweet, and the sucking action soothes you. You relax a little.

“That’s a good baby for mommy,” Natasha says gently, stroking your head with her thumb on the hand supporting you. “Do you like mommy’s milkies?” she asks. You nod, slipping into littlespace quickly as you drink from her. “Is it yummy?” she asks out of her own curiosity. You nod, not wanting to stop to answer. She chuckles. “It’s all yours, little one.”

She moves you to her other breast when you’ve finished, looking down and noticing that her other one is indeed smaller, and it certainly feels better now. You clutch at her gently to get a good angle, and her heart swells. She’s so glad this worked, but then again, Wanda’s advice has yet to fail her, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

When you finish, your eyelids are droopy and you nuzzle into her willingly, a rarity even before she fucked everything up. She pets you gently.

“Sleepy, little one?” she asks you softly. You nod. “Want a nap?” she asks. You nod again. Between your body being exhausted already and the soothing effects of her milk, she’s not surprised you’re already tired even though you’ve only been awake for a few hours. “Let mommy check your bottom, okay?” she turns you on your tummy. You’re healing nicely. “Do you want a blankie? I think it won’t hurt,” she says. You nod and she covers you with a blanket.

“Mommy stay,” you say when she gets up. And how is she supposed to argue with that? The answer is, she isn’t, so after she turns the lights off, he curls up next to you and holds you close.

“Mommy’s here, little one,” she assures you, finding your favorite stuffie and handing it to you. “Mommy will always be here, don’t you worry.”

[justmypartner]

Make it Work: Chapter 4

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another. 

Writer’s Note: This is a monster of a chapter. I honestly could have split it into two separate chapters, but I felt like the flow of the story went better having it all be in one. If you watch FBI or have at least seen Hailey’s episode, there’s a familiar character in this chapter ;) as well as some newbies. Reach out if you would like to be added to the taglist for future chapters! As always, thank you for following my stories and for all of the kind words!

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the–carousel , @maya-asturias​ 

Read on AO3 or below

Jay’s first night in the city wasn’t pleasant. Both he and Hailey hired moving services to ship their things from Chicago to New York prior to their move. Because of this, they spent their last few days in Chicago living out of duffle bags and travel toiletries in hotel rooms. The hope was that by the time they arrived in New York, unpacking was the only thing they’d have to worry about. However, when Jay walked into his apartment for the first time, only half of his things were waiting for him. He tried contacting the moving company, but being that it was so late, all he got was an automated message. Wherever the rest of his things were, his mattress, couch, and any sort of seating he had were all with it. This left him sleeping on the floor, using whatever he could find in the mess of boxes filling the apartment to build a makeshift bed. It was something he had done plenty of times before, especially while he was stationed overseas. However, as proven the next morning, his body just wasn’t cut out for it like it used to be. He was sore all over, making the rest of the day miserable.

The first thing he did was reach out to the moving company. He found out that of the two trucks that were carrying his things, one of them had gotten delayed somewhere in Pennsylvania. That particular truck just so happened to be the one carrying his mattress, bed frame, and couch. He figured in the meantime, he would unpack the things he had. However, he found it increasingly difficult to maneuver around due to the ache mainly centered around his back.

After a few hours of progress, he decided to take a break, leaning his back against the wall and sliding his body down until he was in a sitting position on the floor. He hadn’t had a chance to get groceries of any sort, so he was hungry and in desperate need for painkillers, but he couldn’t find it in himself to leave that spot on the floor, let alone his apartment. He threw his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as his face scrunched up from pain. He was about to pick up his phone and text Hailey when there was a knock at the door. He stood with a groan, holding at the lower part of his back as the motion sent a sting of pain up his body.

When he opened the door, Hailey was standing there with a 6 pack of beer and a cheerful smile on her face. The smile faded as she realized he was clenching his back in pain.

“What happened to you?” She asked, her brows furrowing as she looked him up and down.

“Nice to see you too,” he said, moving out of the way to let her in. She stepped inside, making her way to his kitchen counter to place the beers down.

“Yeah, hi or whatever… What happened to you?” She asked again, looking at him with a puzzled look.

“Stupid moving truck carrying the other half of my stuff got delayed, so I was left sleeping on the floor. I do not recommend that by the way,” he said, grabbing one of the beers and making his way to sit back on the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve just spent the night with me,” she said. Her eyes immediately widened and Jay sent her a raised brow, a confused smile on his face as she said it. He noticed her turn red and he rubbed at his mouth and chin to conceal a smile escaping across his face.

“Ah I mean, you know you could have slept at my place on the couch,” she stammered over her words as she turned to look around his apartment, avoiding eye contact with him completely.

“It was like 3am. I didn’t want to bother you and I was too tired to even consider that. Thanks though,” he told her taking a swig of the beer. “Thanks for these too by the way,” he said, raising the beer in the air.

“Yeah of course. So when’s your stuff supposed to be here?” She questioned, playing with a small Chicago Bears figurine he had rested on a shelf.

“They said sometime this afternoon. Really hoping they’re right because I don’t think my body can take another night on the floor,” he told her, his eyes following her as she moved about the room.

“Yeah, you better watch it. Might not be able to get back up next time, old man,” she told him with a smirk, grabbing a beer from the counter and coming to sit crossed legged across from him on the floor. He wiped the condensation from his bottle and flung the water droplets at her, causing her to flinch.

“Hey!” She called out, guarding her face with her hands.

“Call me old again,” he challenged with a grin. She held her hands up in surrender and he retreated.

“So I like your place. How are you liking New York so far?” She asked him, placing one hand behind her and leaning back on it as she brought the bottle to her lips.

“Well considering I’ve only seen the inside of this apartment, I feel like I can’t answer that. How about you? How’s your apartment coming along?”

“Really good actually. Most of the major stuff has been arranged, now I just have to unpack all of the tedious things - dishes, silverware, knick knacks, all that,” she told him. He nodded as he adjusted his position against the wall. She sent him a concerned look when she saw him flinch and grasp at his back.

“Can I get you anything? We could stop by the store and get you some medicine then we could go back to my place. You could check it out, we could order some food, you could actually have a comfortable place to sit too,” she offered him.

“You had me at get you some medicine,” he beamed. She chuckled and stood, extending a hand towards him to help him up. Being that he was much heavier than her, she really had to pull to help him up. When he was finally on his feet, he was only inches away from her, their hands remaining together for longer than they should’ve. He could feel his heart picking up rhythm in his chest by her touch, so he quickly released his hand, bringing it to the back of his neck before chugging the rest of his beer and tossing it in the trash bin by the counter.

After picking up painkillers and dinner, the two made their way to Hailey’s apartment. Following Hailey into the apartment, Jay’s eyes studied the space, noting how accurately it represented her personality. It wasn’t completely put together yet. There were still boxes lying around sporadically across the floor, but for the most part it was simple and organized much like her. Hailey made her way to the living room where she set the food down on the coffee table before planting herself on the couch. Jay followed suit, falling onto the couch and letting himself sink into the cushions. Hailey popped open the bottle of aspirin they picked up at the store, offering him a bottle of water and 3 pills. As he took them, he realized how instinctively she was caring for him and how natural it felt to be in such a domestic setting with her. She pulled out his food, sitting it in front of him and snapping him out of his roaming thoughts.

“So, are you nervous about tomorrow?” She asked him, settling back into the couch as she took her fork out of the plastic wrapper. She was referring to it being their first day. Jay hadn’t confronted his feelings about it until that moment.

“I would tell you no, but we both know that would be a lie,” he admitted. She flashed him a knowing smile before continuing.

“What are you most worried about?”

“Nothing in particular, I just know it’s going to be a lot different than what I’m used to. Every fed I’ve ever worked with has been a pompous jackass, in it for the optics more than the actual people they’re trying to help. I know what we’ll be doing will be important, I guess my reservations come from a combination of not wanting to deal with that and not wanting to turn into that,” he told her, a solemn look overcoming his face. Her face formed into a frown and her stare fell to her plate as she seemed to silently think through her response.

“You know my first day, I walked into that building already carrying this sort of forced regard for the place. I had those same reservations you carry for the feds, but I respected what they did so I forced myself to walk into it all with a sort of blind respect. My first interaction with OA wasn’t so great. He made some backhanded comment and you know me, I don’t take stuff like that, so I threw it back at him. Made him realize I saw through what he was really trying to say. The more time I was there, I realized that even though they don’t all go about it the best way, everyone is there to do their part and take the bad guys off the street. While that type of mentality you described certainly exists among many of the people we’ll work with, I think the perspective we can bring will have a similar impact as what went down with OA that day. We put ‘em in check and they sort the rest out themselves. You’re a good cop, and that’s just what these units need. So whatever fears you have, I wouldn’t spend too much time dwelling on them because you’re going to be great,” she told him, smiling briefly before immediately diving back into her food.

Her words reassured him. He still felt some apprehension about the next day, but she leveled him enough to instill a bout of confidence he hadn’t previously carried. After finishing their dinner, Jay relished in the comfort of the couch and the relief brought on by the painkillers. Hailey had put a tv show on in the background, but Jay was watching it absentmindedly. He noticed his eyes get heavier and heavier, and when exhaustion eventually caught up to him, he fell asleep. He was woken up with a light shake from Hailey. His eyes blinked open and he took in the sight of her slightly hovered over him.

“Hi,” she said as he fully opened his eyes and pushed himself into a straighter sitting position.

“How long have I been out?” He asked her, rubbing at his eyes and stirring about in a blanket he didn’t remember having before. He realized Hailey must have put it on him while he was sleeping and he stifled a smile as he awaited her answer.

“About an hour. Your phone was ringing and I picked it up. I hope you don’t mind,” she told him, holding the phone out to him. He took it from her, squinting his eyes at the brightness of the screen.

“No, it’s fine. Who was it?” He asked, looking at a number he didn’t recognize and looking back at her for her response.

“It was the movers, they said they’re coming in about an hour,” she told him, standing to clear their empty take out containers from the table. He looked down at the time and threw the blanket off his body gently before folding it into a more manageable size. He then picked up what was left on the table and brought it into the kitchen to help her clean up.

“I guess I better get going,” he told her, looking for his coat.

“Okay, yeah. Here’s the painkillers. You may need them again later,” she told him, handing him the bottle from before.

“Thanks for taking care of me today,” he told her, tilting his head slightly as he sent her a warm smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” she shook her head with a grin. “See you tomorrow?”

“You know it,” he told her, opening the door to leave. Just as she went to close it behind him, he pushed it back open slightly. “Also, thank you for what you said earlier. It helped a lot.”

She returned his words with a slight nod before he turned to make his way to the elevator. The rest of the night he felt like there was an oddly natural shift in their relationship. The way she cared for him and reassured him seemed so much more than their usual platonic dynamic. It was like they crossed some sort of line without making a thing of it, and it made his heart rush just thinking about it. Though, he decided to not think about it. Instead, he tried to focus on the change they were set to endure that next day.

- - - -

Jay woke the next morning in the comfort and familiarity of his bed. The night before, the movers brought the last of his things into his place, and he felt relieved to not have to sleep on the floor once again. After taking a shower, he stood in his bedroom in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers, staring down at the suit he had laid out for the day. It was a tangible symbol of his new life, and it made him nervous. He only ever had to wear a suit for two things: funerals and court, and those never came with good memories. He finally psyched himself up enough to put it on, looking in the mirror as he adjusted the tie around his neck. He took a breath, briefly staring back at his own reflection in the mirror before moving to his bedroom and pulling his gun from a safe in the closet. He secured it in the holster on his belt before pulling on his jacket, buttoning the top two buttons to conceal it from view.

He met Hailey outside of the building. They first had to get their photos taken for their identification and badges before making their way up to the new unit. He immediately recognized how nice everything was, even just the equipment they used to make their IDs was far more advanced than anything he’d ever seen. As soon as they handed the badge to him and he placed it on his hip, everything settled in. This was his new life. His new job. The nerves kicked in as they made their way up to their floor. He fidgeted in the elevator, pulling at the sleeves of his coat and adjusting his tie every few seconds. Hailey clocked his jumpiness from the corner of her eye.

“Dude, you need to relax,” she told him with a chuckle, placing a hand briefly on his shoulder.

“I know, I know,” he all but whispered.

He was feeling very out of his element. First days can be nerve wrecking in general, but this seemed new and unfamiliar to him. His transition from Organized Crime to Intelligence felt natural. There was a comfort about the ruggedness of Intelligence that put him at ease on his first day; it made him feel like he fit in. This though? Suits, million dollar tech, fancy buildings, it all seemed so far out of his league and he was having trouble calming his nerves.

There was a brief silence before he blurted out, “I just really hate suits,” he admitted, putting his energy into the discomfort he was feeling about the attire.

“Eh, I do too, but you get used to it. Just, relax though. You’re going to be great, they’re going to be great. It’ll be fine… You look great by the way,” she reassured him with her dimpled grin. He flashed an unconvincing smile at her and took a deep breath just as the elevator doors opened.

Organized chaos is how he would have described the room before him. Everyone in the room was busily distracted by something. It seemed to be a meticulous operation, but it was a much larger scale than what he was used to in Intelligence.

“Hailey Upton!” An excited voice called out as they exited the elevator.

“OA? The hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be a few floors down?” She asked as Jay watched a stranger grab her in a hug. He was tall, so tall in fact that he made Hailey look miniature.

“Yeah, I heard you started today so I thought I’d come say hello,” he said as his eyes met Jay’s over Hailey’s shoulder. As they pulled away from the embrace, Hailey turned to gesture towards an awkward smiling Jay.

“OA, I’d like to introduce you to my partner, Jay.”

“So you’re the illustrious Jay. Hailey told me a lot about you, specifically that you were a Ranger. I was a Captain, two tours in Iraq,” OA said, reaching a hand out to shake Jay’s.

“No way, I did two in Afghanistan. 75th Regiment, 3rd Battalion,” he said, shaking his hand back firmly. “Hailey told me a lot about you as well by the way. Thanks for looking out for her all those weeks,” he continued.

“Yeah, well I think you got it backwards, it was her who was looking out for me,” he said sending a smile Hailey’s way.

“Yeah, he’s alright… for a fed,” she said with a shrug and a mischievous grin.

“What do you mean? You know you’re a fed now too, right?” he laughed back.

“Shhh don’t tell anyone,” she replied jokingly.

“Secret’s safe with me, but I have a feeling they’ll find out eventually,” he said waving a finger at the busy room around them. “Anyway, it was good seeing you Chicago, but I gotta head back to JOC. Catch ya later?” OA said backing away towards the elevator.

“Yeah, for sure,” she responded.

“Hey man, nice meeting you!” Jay called out.

“Yeah, you too!” OA replied as he climbed into the elevator.

Jay felt more at ease by the interaction. Seeing how comfortable Hailey was in this environment and how well she got on with OA lowered his nerves a bit. He figured if everyone with the bureau was like him, adjusting may be easier than he thought. He followed Hailey as she made her way over to a group of people gathered by a large screen. When they were close enough, Hailey cleared her throat catching the attention of them all, heads spinning around to look at the two of them.

“Detective… or should I say Special Agent Upton, great to see you again. Welcome,” one of them said, extending a hand out to shake hers.

“Agent Reynolds, likewise. This is Jay Halstead,” she said with a nod towards Jay.

“Jay Halstead, it’s nice to officially meet you, I’m Drake Reynolds, Assistant Special Agent in Charge. Welcome to the FBI,” he said, reaching his hand out to meet Jay’s. “Everyone on the team just calls me Drake by the way,” he said, darting his eyes back to Hailey to correct her.

“Nice to meet you as well, sir,” Jay replied.  

“Right. Now, normally we’d do a more official welcome, you know get to meet everyone and everything, but we just had a really urgent case come in so I’m going to have you two jump right in if that’s okay,” Drake told them. They nodded as he made his way to the front of the room to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, everyone we caught a live one this morning. Subject is Eli Sarkova, Latvian national who has been on many federal agencies’ radars for a while now. Sarkova is said to run one of the major trafficking rings out of Eastern Europe with strong ties right here in New York. NYPD picked up one of his connections, Andris Ozola, last night. They called us and now he is sitting in our interrogation room where one of our agents was able to pull out intel that Sarkova is right here in Manhattan for the first time in months. Ozola didn’t have a direct location, but we do know where his driver is expected to be at 11 am today, so we’re sending a team to go pick him up. Driver’s name is Edgars Berlina, white male, 6’2”, 185 pounds, bald, with ironically, a tattoo of angel wings on his neck. Berlina and any crew he’s with are most definitely going to be armed and dangerous. Memorize his picture, he’s going to be in a public area so we need to play this one right,” Drake said as he addressed the whole room.

“Bennett and Burrows, I want you two riding with Halstead and Upton today. Show them the ropes and answer any questions they may have about the field,” he told two agents to his right. They nodded in agreement, flashing warm smiles to the partners before Drake left the four of them standing there.

“Agent Daisy Bennett,” the female agent said extending her hand out to each of them. “And this is Walker Burrows,” she said, gesturing to the male agent by her side. Jay picked up on a lingering look Agent Burrows gave Hailey as he shook her hand. He frowned at this slightly as Hailey introduced herself.

“Hailey Upton, good to meet you both.”

“Jay Halstead,” he said shortly, continuing a stern stare at the man in front of him whose gaze continued to remain on Hailey.

“Follow us to the garage. The gear is already in the car, so we can get suited up out there,” Daisy said, turning to walk down the hall to the elevators.

“So you’re both from Chicago. Detectives, right?” Walker questioned, pressing the button for the garage.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jay replied, carrying his gaze straight ahead of him. “I gotta say, it’s already a culture shock. I’m not used to having intel handed to us like this. Usually we’re digging for this stuff ourselves,” Jay admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I’m sure as hell glad we don’t have to worry about that. We get to do the actual important stuff like actually taking down the targets,” Walker replied. Jay shot Hailey a cross look, one that she returned, but he decided to keep his mouth shut, not wanting to challenge the man already in the first 5 minutes of meeting him. Maybe it was because he was used to doing the intel work himself, but Jay saw the value in all of it. Hearing the man so easily disregard other positions in the unit already didn’t sit right with him, but he shook it off for the sake of starting off on the right foot.

When they arrived at the car, Daisy opened the tailgate, pulling out 2 containers of gear.

“I’m not sure how you guys rolled in Chicago, but we have these in-ear coms. They’re fully open channels so you can communicate with any and all of us at all times. Mic button falls near your collar, so keep that in mind,” she said, handing them each ear pieces to put in their ears. “Bureau issued vests. Level IIIA body armor. It’s supposed to protect you even up to point blank range, but will leave a pretty nasty bruise,” she told them as she handed them each a vest. As they took their jackets off to put them on, Hailey looked over at Jay with a cheeky grin.

“Just because it’s good armor, doesn’t mean you need to go testing it out, okay?” She joked as she pulled it over her head, securing the velcro straps on the sides.

“Ha Ha,” he mocked back at her.

“Get shot a lot do you?” Daisy asked as she pulled her hair up in a ponytail.

“Bullet magnet, this man,” Hailey joked, eliciting a laugh from each of them.

Walker drove them to the target location, Daisy riding in the front and Hailey and Jay in the back. Jay didn’t like not being in the front, in control of the car, but he went with it, recognizing it as a temporary thing until they got settled in. When they rolled up, they exited the car, concealing their badges, vests, and weapons as to not be identified as law enforcement before they could get eyes on the target.

“Looks like there’s two entrances to the park. I say you guys take the north end and we’ll take the south. If he’s anywhere-“ Jay began, taking point on tactics as he was so used to doing in Intelligence, but Daisy cut him off.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but you guys are supposed to be following our lead today. I think each of us need to be partnered with you both. So, Walker you go with Hailey to the south end. Jay, you and I will take the north,” she instructed. It made Jay slightly uneasy to be split from Hailey, but he went along with it, acknowledging his unfamiliar role that came from being the new guy. Hailey sent him a reassuring look, silently communicating that everything would be fine. He nodded before they all departed ways.

“Dean, Fisher, your teams in place?” Daisy asked the other team leaders through the coms.

They each confirmed as Jay walked side by side with her down the path in the park. They settled on a bench, giving them a view of the center and north entrance of the park.

“We’re in place, all clear on the north end,” Jay said into the coms, his eyes surveying his surroundings as he put an arm on the back of the bench.

They sat in the park for a while. Eventually, one of the other agents saw the target pull up. They were able to bring him in without any problems. He was alone when they brought him in, which they all found odd. He was also very silent throughout every interaction, something they took as years of keeping his mouth shut with his boss. When they got him in the interrogation room, Drake sent Jay and Hailey in together to get a read on their capabilities. While Hailey pulled the “we’re here to help you, but only if you talk” method, Jay took a more silent approach. He remained in the seat staring at the man as Hailey paced the floor of the interrogation room trying to convince him to talk. After 20 minutes of silence, Hailey sat down next to Jay, looking down at the table, her arms crossed as the man kept a cold stare at her.

“Tell me Berlina, why’d Sarkova send you into that park alone this morning?” Jay finally asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands together on the table. The man said nothing, shifting his stare from Hailey to Jay.

“I mean, you’re just his driver after all. Anybody can drive a car, you’re pretty replaceable. But still, you’d think years of working for the man would earn you something, right? Some sort of protection,” Still the man remained silent. Jay shrugged before continuing on. “I don’t know. He’s probably already got you replaced anyway. We found out some pretty interesting things about you from Interpol. A couple of outstanding warrants in Latvia… even a few in Estonia. You get around, don’t you? Anyway, your plane leaves this afternoon. Hopefully that gives you enough time to get out of here before Sarkova has a chance to tie up loose ends,” Jay finished, rising in his chair to exit the room. Hailey followed, and just as they were about to exit, the man called them back.

He ended up giving them the location of a brownstone in a wealthier neighborhood. They set out with the FBI tactical team, expecting heavy arms and numerous bodyguards according to what Berlina gave them. They had planned to infiltrate late in the night to provide themselves with an extra element of surprise. This was the one part of the job that Jay felt sure about. As he geared up, he felt pumped up for the first time that day. Knowing that his interrogation gave them the location added a little motivation as well. Still partnered with Daisy, she and Jay followed after the two tact team guys upon breaching the front door. Walker and Hailey were behind them, making their way to the other side of the house upon entry. One of the tact team guys came in contact with an offender first, convincing him to stand down and taking his weapon before cuffing him. Jay and Daisy continued into the house, sweeping each room one by one. They came into contact with a second offender, and they were able to convince him to stand down as well. Next thing they knew, there was a ruckus on the other side of the house, so they swiftly picked up their pace, making their way in that direction. There was a gunshot and panic overcame Jay as he realized it was in the part of the house Hailey was clearing.

“Hailey!” He called out. No response. He called her name once more before entering a large room. He caught sight of her blonde hair on the ground. His heart dropped, but she turned over as he got closer, clutching at her jaw. Walker was behind her, standing over Sarkova who was face down on the ground.

“Hailey! What the hell happened, are you okay?” Jay questioned, making his way over to her and instinctively grabbing at her chin to get a better look at the red mark on her jaw.

“Guy was hiding behind the door when I walked in. He tried to grab at my gun and forced me to fire a round into the wall. He also got me nice in the jaw before I could react,” she told him, stretching her jaw. Jay offered her a hand and she grabbed it to come to a standing position.

“She took the hell out of him though. Girl’s a badass,” Walker said, bringing Sarkova to his feet and guiding him to a tact guy by the door.

“Yeah, where the hell were you? Huh?” Jay asked, a slight snarky tone in his voice.

“Hey man, I was right behind her. I had her back,” Walker said back, closing the distance between him and Jay. Jay didn’t take well to people getting in his face. Hailey noticed this and stood between them, lightly pushing them apart.

“Woah, okay boys. We’re all good here,” she said, her eyes looking between the two of them.

Jay backed off, looking down at her with a worried look.

“Are you okay?” he asked her quietly, dropping his voice to a sincere tone.

“I’m good,” she nodded, patting him slightly on the chest.

“I should’ve had your back,” he said, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Jay, I’m fine. Relax, would you?” she told him, a slight frustration in her voice.

Jay didn’t like that she had gotten hurt and he wasn’t there to protect her. It wasn’t that she was hurt badly, but he didn’t like the idea of someone else, basically a stranger, being the one to watch her back in such a high risk situation. His opinion of Walker wasn’t all that great after his comment that morning, and it certainly wasn’t improving now that she had gotten hurt under his watch. One thing he was sure of was that he was glad their separation was only a temporary thing.

[unholyobsessions]

Those who get sick together, stay together

Pairing: Julie x Luke

Description: Luke and Julie are best friends and it takes a delirious love confession for them to finally get together

Requested: Yes

A/N: It may seem kind of rushed? not my best work but at the same time i really like it

Warnings: Sickness, throwing up

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist

Here’s the thing, when you’ve known someone all your life you get used to doing everything together. Whether it be going to the arcade, the movies, shopping sprees, or vacations, where one goes, the other follows. That is the case with Julie Molina and Luke Patterson.

Growing up as neighbors in a suburban neighborhood of mostly retired couples made them the only kids within a five mile radius (and the winners of every chocolate selling competition the school hosted.) It was impossible to see the two of them apart and they liked it that way. They took the same classes and same extracurriculars, going as far as getting in trouble on purpose if the other had already gotten detention (when they were given a different schedule their freshmen year of high school, they gave a powerpoint presentation to the principle on the reasons they needed to be together… it worked.)

Considering the fact that they were never apart, it really came as no surprise when they both came down with the stomach flu the same weekend. Whenever they’re sick, they normally FaceTime the entire time, neither strong enough to visit and staying away if the other had miraculously not caught the sickness. This time however, Luke’s parents have to go on a business trip that has been scheduled for over a month that they really could not afford to cancel. Rose, ever the angel, immediately offered to have Luke stay over, saying that she is already going to take care of Julie, might as well nurse Luke back to health as well.

So that is why they both find themselves tucked into Julie’s bed with wet rags on their foreheads and grimaces on their faces. They each have their respective trash cans next to them in case they don’t have the time to run to the bathroom before throwing up.

Rose walks into the room with a bowl of ice in her hand but instead of going straight to the bed, she goes to Julie’s windows and pulls open the the purple blinds with butterfly stickers stuck to them. As a result, Luke and Julie let out loud groans and pull the covers over their heads. Rose rolls her eyes and walks over.

“The two of you are so dramatic I swear.” She pulls down the cover and takes both the rags to put them in the bowl.

“Mom,” they say, dragging out the word. A smile pulls at Rose’s lips, as it always does whenever Luke calls her mom. It’s been happening for years really, just as he calls Ray, Dad and Julie calls Mr. and Mrs. Patterson Ma and Pops respectively.

“Don’t mom me. You should be thankful I’m even here taking care of you.” They all know she’s lying. She would move a mountain for them, for anyone really, that’s just how Rose is.

She grabs the packet of pills from her pocket and gets two giving one to each of them. “Put these under your tongue and let them dissolve.” They both obediently do it but shoot up from the bed a few seconds later. Julie makes a run for the bathroom and Luke opts for the trashcan. Rose rushes after Julie, holding her hair back as she retches into the toilet. She faintly hears the sounds of Luke gagging and she lets out a sigh. So much for the pills.

Julie brushes her teeth and goes back to the bed, Luke getting up to rinse his mouth as well. Rose turn on the TV, hoping a couple of Friends reruns will brighten up their mood, and is about to walk out of the room when she hears a crash from the bathroom. She runs in to see Luke standing over a broken glass. He looks up with tears in his eyes.

“I-it fell. I didn’t mean too. I’m sorry.” Rose has to resist the urge to laugh as she grabs his hand and leads him back to the bed. She gets the now cold rags and places them over their foreheads again before turning off the light and going back to the bathroom to clean the mess.

Julie scoots closer to Luke and lays her head on his shoulder. Luke has the urge to push her away because the room feels much too hot for cuddling but when he opens his mouth to tell her to move she looks up at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he has ever seen. He sighs and ignores the sweat forming under his clothes, pulling Julie closer against him, both drifting off to sleep after a few episodes.

. . .

The next morning they’re no longer running a fever but they do find out the hard way that they still cannot keep any food down. When Rose tries to give them some plain toast, hoping that they will at least get some food in them, they both got up from the bed, this time Luke going to the bathroom and Julie using the trashcan.

With a heavy sigh, Rose phones the doctor, questioning him on what is the best option for two picky teenagers.

He suggests using syrup medicine instead of pills and tells her a pharmacy where she could pick it up in a couple of minutes. She thanks him profusely before hanging up. When she goes back upstairs she sees Julie and Luke both making their way back to the bed after brushing their teeth.

“Hey guys I’m going to pick up some medicine, I’ll be about forty-five minutes. You going to be okay by yourselves?” She calls from the doorway. Julie groans and tucks herself further into the bed. Luke laughs and looks up at Rose.

“We’ll be okay mom. I’m pretty sure Julie is going back to sleep,” he answers with a smile. He still felt terrible but he wasn’t nauseous anymore and he called that a win. She smiled and said goodbye before leaving.

. . .

A few hours later, Rose goes into the room with the medicine in hand. She hadn’t given it to them when she first arrived because they had both fallen asleep. They had been awake for a few hours but the medicine is supposed to make them drowsy so she preferred to give it to them at night.

Julie’s sitting on the bed, brushing through her wet hair and Luke is changing in the bathroom. Rose sits behind Julie and gently takes the hairbrush from her. She finishes untangling her hair and gives it a final dry through with a towel. Luke comes out of the bathroom and smiles sheepishly.

“I threw up again.”

Rose simply holds out her hand and Luke speed walks to the bed. He lays down and cuddles at her side, with Julie leaning back against her chest. She places kisses on both their heads before telling them to sit up so they can take the medicine.

They each take a tablespoon and take a sip of water. Rose tucks them into bed and turns off the lights, wishing them a goodnight and waiting a beat for them to say it back.

A few minutes later, they’re laying side by side, the darkness of the room providing a sense of comfort. The medicine hits Luke harder than it should, and Julie teases him about being a lightweight as he says nothing but nonsense.

“Jules?” Luke’s voice is groggy, as if it’s fading away.

“Yeah Luke?” Julie however is fully awake, the medicine not hitting her yet.

“I love you.”

She blushes, a foolish smile pulling at her lips. “I love you too.”

“No but like, love you love you.” He’s not quite sure what he’s saying. He feels sort of like that time he got his wisdom teeth out.

Her breath hitches. “You’re delirious,” she whispers, wishing for him to take the words back before she can read too much into them.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true. I’m in love with you Jules, have been for a while.” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but his eyes are drooping and she’s sure he won’t remember this tomorrow.

“Go to sleep Lu.” her heart clenches and she blinks the tears away, blaming the pain in her stomach and not her feelings.

“Okay. Goodnight.” And just like that he’s out like a light. A few tears slip down her cheeks and after a while, the medicine hits her and her eyes flutter shut.

The next morning she waits for him to say something, anything, and when he doesn’t she decides she won’t either. She pretends it never happened and tries her best to act normal but Luke’s not an idiot. He notices quickly that something’s wrong. She stays as far away from him in the bed as possible, flinching if even his arm brushed against hers which is a large contrast to her cuddly behavior the days prior. She would jump whenever he said her name, more specifically when he said, “Jules.”

When Rose greets them, Julie is thankful for the distraction. She keeps looking at her mom, avoiding turning her head when she gives them another dose of medicine. They’re both feeling much better and are able to hold down the toast. Rose thinks they’ll feel good as new by the next day and personally, Julie doesn’t think it can come quick enough. She stays quiet most of the day, only giving Luke short replies and nods of her head whenever he tries to start conversation. Eventually he gives up, not knowing what he did wrong but deciding to give her some time, hoping that she will approach him when she’s ready.

The next day, Luke’s parents arrive to pick him up. Julie hears them speaking to her parents; they ask for her and how she’s doing but Julie pretends to be asleep in order to avoid any conversation. She hears Luke shuffling around the room as he gets his stuff together. She pretends she doesn’t feel Luke’s lingering touch on her shoulder when he says goodbye and she ignores the tears that fall down her face when she hears the door close downstairs.

. . .

Julie and Luke did not fight. They argued but they made up within the span of a few hours, so to say Luke is worried when Julie does not reply to his texts is an understatement. It has been about two hours since he had gone home and he has sent Julie a text every ten minutes.

Julie knows Luke is not stupid and that her not answering him is suspicious but she can’t help it. She ignores every single message and turns off her phone. She keeps it off the rest of the day and tries to not think about him, because even a single thought of him breaks her heart.

The next day she leaves her phone in her room all day and stays in the living room watching Netflix with her mom. She resists the urge to go upstairs to at least read his texts because that would just make the situation worst. Late in the evening when Rose goes to make dinner Julie makes her way to the studio, itching to play the piano after four days of not doing so. She isn’t expecting to see Luke sitting on the couch with his guitar resting on his leg.

He stands up quickly once he hears her come in. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds.

“What are you doing here?” Julie asks.

“I knew it would only be a matter of time before you came in here. Julie we need to talk.” He puts his guitar down and Julie shakes her head.

“We don’t need to talk? Why would we? I’m okay. We’re okay.” Julie averts her gaze, the words falling out of her lips in rapid succession.

“We’re not okay Julie. What did I do?” He asks desperately.

“Nothing. We’re fine,” Julie assures, trying her best to sound convincing.

“Jules,” Julie flinches and Luke’s face falls. “Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

“My phone’s been off,” she states in a matter of fact but Luke shakes his head. He’s growing frustrated and her lack of explanation is pissing him off.

“Why are you ignoring me?” His voice is loud and hurt causing Julie to break.

“Because you told me you loved me!” The silence that comes after is deafening.

“What- Jules of course I love you. I’ve said it hundreds of times.” He really hopes his nerves aren’t as evident as he thinks they are.

“Yeah, but you said you were in love with me,” Julie whispers. She looks everywhere but at him and continues to speak. “And I know you didn’t mean it and it hurts so much because I do mean it. I’m in love with you Luke. And hearing you say it while you were barely conscious broke me.”

Luke stares at her, mouth hanging open as he struggles to find the right words to say. He walks closer to her, stopping when the tips of his shoes brushed against hers. “Jules look at me please.” She begrudgingly lifts her gaze to him and his heart clenches at the sight of tears forming in her eyes. He reaches a hand up to cup her cheek, gently wiping away the first stray tear with his thumb. “I am so incredibly in love with you.”

“What?” He wishes she didn’t sound as surprised as she does.

“I’m in love with you Julie Molina. I love every single thing about you. The gap between your teeth when you smile. The way your hair never stays the way you want it to but it still looks beautiful. I love your voice, and hearing you play piano. I love how you draw on the edge of your shoes and will stop whatever you are doing to write down a melody, even if we’re in the middle of a test. I love your little jokes and how you laugh so unapologetically loud no matter where you are. I love you so much and god do I hate myself for telling you while I was high off of flu medicine.” Julie was full on crying now and Luke’s own eyes were starting to fill with tears.

Going off instinct, Julie goes up on her tiptoes and presses her lips against Luke’s, cupping the back of his neck to pull him closer. Luke is taken by surprise at first but once his brain starts working again, he reciprocates the kiss. When they pull away they both have similar grins plastered on their faces.

“Are we good?” Luke asks.

Julie nods her head. “More than good.”

Rose smiles when they both come back into the house at dinner time and exchanges a look with her husband when they make their way up the stairs with Luke placing a hand on Julie’s lower back.

. . .

No one is surprised when they walk into school at the end of summer break holding hands, and if they spot a few teacher exchanging twenty dollar bills, they don’t mention it.

[shadow-assassin-blix]

It’s a Grey Area

Chapter 3

‘Italics’ - thoughts.

A/N: Some Luke bashing, cause I feel he deserved it a bit. Honestly surprised I’m still continuing this.

A good week had passed since that mission. Poe was busy investigating who could have possibly leaked the information about the mission but came up empty with every avenue he ventured. Blix returned to work in the Med bay and tried to ignore the thoughts of everyone’s minds that were now creeping into her head. She only vaguely noticed that Poe had yet to come visit her in the infirmary but understood that he was working.

The day had started exhausting, she had only gotten maybe an hour of sleep, due to echoing thoughts of everyone around her. She kept dropping everything and making a huge mess. After the fourth time, she backed away from the table, and said with a heavy sigh, “Amber, take over, I’m- I’m going to go for a walk, and I may or may not be back.”

She walked out of the Med bay and took a stroll around the base. She was trying to calm her mind, and it was not going well. Eventually her stroll came to the area in which Luke was training Rey and Ben. She took a spot on an empty crate and watched from afar. As she watched Rey and Ben fight each other with lightsabers, something looked off.

She slowly realized it was because they were not synced. They were not connecting with their lightsabers. ‘Which makes sense, since they are not using their own lightsabers.’ Using Luke’s and Leia’s sabers made their fight styles stagnant. Luke was yelling at them to try harder and do better. ‘How can they when they are not connected to the weapons?’ She shook her head and walked away with a roll of her eyes, and went back to work, a bit more focused.

Blix found herself returning to their training area again the next day. As she watched, she noticed that both Rey and Ben were getting frustrated and sloppy in their movements. As Luke berated them on their movements, yet again, Rey’s foot got tangled on a root, and as she tried to recover wound up burning Ben with her saber. He also wound up burning Rey as he tried to drop his saber to stop her fall.

Luke sighed loudly as he walked over and grabbed the fallen sabers, turning them off as he picked them up. Blix had enough at that point and moved forward.

She walked directly over to Ben and Rey and helped them both up. “C’mon you two. To the med bay, I’ll take care of ya,” She promised as she had Rey lean against her, when her foot gave out from under her when she stood up.

Luke began to protest, “Excuse me, what do you th-“

Blix cut him off with a glare and a snarl of, “Back off!”

She led them directly into the Med bay, and set them both down onto a bed, and called for Bre to come over and assist.

They began to work on their burns first, once those were taken care of Blix looked over Rey’s ankle. “It doesn’t appear to be broken, but it is swelling. You will not be doing any more training today,” Blix commented as she set it up onto some pillows and got an ice pack for it.

“I want you both to rest,” Blix demanded, pushing them both into lying down on their beds. “Take these for the pain, and they’ll help you sleep.” She handed them both a pain pill.

“But Luke, hes-“ Rey began to protest, pushing the hand that held the pill away.

“You let me handle that hermit. The only thing I want both of you to focus on is getting better,” Blix spoke softly, presenting the pill again.

Both Rey and Ben looked at each other, and then took the medicine presented and got comfortable on the beds they were on.

As her and Bre cleaned up, the two of them seemed to have their own silent conversation with one another, as they looked at the door and then at Blix.

Blix went back to filling out paperwork and checking the schedule for any upcoming mandatory base-wide check-ups/vaccinations.

She noted in a month’s time there needed to be physicals done for everyone, so she wrote that down onto her calendar, and sent reminders to her team about it, so they too would have it noted.

As she worked, she heard wheels and several beeps coming toward. She looked up to see R2D2 rolling in.

“Hello Artoo, what’s up buddy?” She asked him politely.

Several beeps and boops later he informed her that Luke was looking for his students and wanted to know when to expect them back.

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, her head turned to the ceiling.

“Artoo? Can you record a message for me to send back to him?” She asked as a devious thought entered her mind.

He beeped in agreement and after a moment of repositioning himself, a light came on indicating he was recording her.

“Luke. Your students will not be available for the rest of the day. In fact, they won’t even be available tomorrow. They are going to spend this time resting. You know, sleep? Eat? Heal? Interact with other human beings? I know that that last one may be strange concept for a hermit like yourself, but I digress,” She informed with a displeased look.

“Maybe you should take that time and do some self-evaluation. Maybe shave off that dead animal on your face? Maybe realize teaching isn’t really your forte?” She suggested before adding, “Oh and these are doctor’s orders, so, you can complain to your sister all you want, but my word overrides hers. Have a nice day.”

Artoo beeped and ended the recording and asked if she was sure if he wanted to send that to him. She nodded her and said, “Yes, I’m sure. Enjoy your day Artoo, don’t harass Threepio too much yeah?”

He sassily beeped that he would make no promises and rolled out.

As soon as he left, she noticed a sound coming from her patients. She looked over and saw Rey’s shoulders shaking with laughter; she tried to hide her face with her hands. Ben was smiling but was trying to cover it with a cough or by clearing his throat.

“Rest you two. I want you both to spend this time, being normal young 20-somethings. Got it?” She requested, with a smile, on her face.

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Rey smile that much. Ben also looks like he’s not used to smiling either. Those two are far too young, to be that broken by the world.’ She thought sadly, before she returned her focus to her paperwork.

The day passes on smoothly, Rey and Ben were released to their rooms once their burns had healed, the former was requested to keep off her foot as much as possible until the following morning.

Around lunch time the next day, she spotted Rey near the base, sitting cross-legged, her eyes closed. As she stepped forward, she could hear her quietly speaking, “I am one with the Jedi, the Jedi are me.”

She watched for several minutes before Rey, reopened and she looked around her expectantly, but was immediately discouraged. She looked down at her lap and Blix could hear her thoughts clearly, ‘Why isnt this working? What am I not doing? Am I not enough?’

Blix glanced down and away as empathetic pain bloomed in her chest. She knew what it was like to try and connect with the great beyond and not hear a damn thing. To feel great existential loneliness.

Blix walked away and back to the med bay, even though she desperately wanted to go straight over to Rey and assure her she was enough.

That night, she couldn’t settle. No matter what she did, she couldn’t sit still, or lay down without tossing and turning. She had a sudden urge to go to her secret place, so, she threw her shoes back on and slowly made her way outside.

She was in her field minutes later, but she still felt unsettled. She looked around confused as she tried to figure out what was going on. Why did she feel so antsy?

She heard the sound of a twig snapping behind, and as she whipped her in that direction, she quietly called out, “Grandfather? Is that you?”

“Not quite your grandfather, no.” Came a sage voice, and as his Force Ghost stepped forward through the trees she gasped.

“Master Qui Gon? What are you-? Why-? I mean. Hi!” She stuttered over her words and could hardly form a proper sentence.

He chuckled at her nervousness and said, “Hello my dear. It is nice to officially meet you. Shall we sit?” He gestured to the flat ground before them.

She nodded, and sat, starring at him in awe, as he joined her a moment later.

“The past week has been rather interesting for you, I hear,” He began. “I know your grandfather came to you before, and while he sensed that you would have a need to use your powers soon, I cannot help but wonder. You used them last week but have since pretended that they do not exist again, even though your mind and body are reconnecting with galaxy. Why is that? What exactly are you afraid of?”

She looked at him for a moment, before she turned her gaze to a small wildflower that had suddenly become rather intriguing. She bit her lip, as tried to formulate her thoughts into actual sentences.

“I-. Hmm,” She started before taking a breath. “My mother.. refused to acknowledge these powers of mine. She… She saw them as a curse. A beacon in the night for any Sith lord to find me.”

“But you still went through the training, on your own, using your grandfather’s scrolls and journals, did you not?” He questioned.

“Yes. I did. But between his experiences and what wound up happening with Luke and his padawans, how the hell am I supposed to be okay with being a Jedi when our lifespan tends to be rather short?” I asked him back. “I want to live. I want to fall in love and have a family. I don’t want to be responsible for the universe and die with nothing to show for it.”

“But do you also wish to see young Rey and Ben continue to struggle as they are?” He inquired. “Rey is losing hope with each passing day. Ben struggles with finding balance between his dark and light sides. You know better than anyone what it is like to struggle with anger and hopelessness.”

She scoffed, “What exactly are you suggesting? That I train them?”

“Is that so ridiculous? Luke does not have patience for the both of them. There is far too much distrust between him and Ben; he does not understand Rey’s struggles. You, however…” He trailed off.

Blix stared at him in shock, her mouth agape. “I’m. I’m not a Jedi Master though!” She exclaimed

“What makes you say that? You have built your own lightsaber. You can recite the codes and rules of the Jedi by memory. Your skills with the Force are powerful, when you are not being overwhelmed with panic,” He listed out. “You completed your training years ago. You are strong enough. The only thing stopping you from reaching your greatest potential is yourself.”

“What if-“ She began to question.

“The ‘what ifs’ do not matter. You are a Jedi, and under your tutelage Rey will flourish as a Jedi herself. Ben while skilled already, needs guidance. Needs someone who will show him how to balance between the dark and the light. I have great faith in you,” He concluded as he stood up.

“If I may say, you would have made a great Consular,” He added as he began to walk away. “Sleep on what we’ve talked on. In the morning, you’ll know.” His ghost disappeared.

“Do none of you know how to say goodbye in a normal way? Must you make vague comments before fading into the void?” She asked out loud staring at the spot where he disappeared.

She stood up and walked back into her room mumbling to herself about rude ghostly figures. She crawled into bed and passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

When morning came, she sat up on her bed, swung her legs to side, and stared at the pile of journals that sat there. Only a handful were medical journals, most of them, a good 40 or so, were her grandfather’s journals. She looked over all of them, her hand rubbing at her neck, as she thought things over.

She looked over to her closet, then back to the journals and said to herself loudly, “Fuck it. Why not?”

She wandered into her closet, toward the back, and pulled out an ornate box that she kept locked. She set it on her bed, reached into a drawer on her desk to pull out the key, and unlocked it. There were only two items within the box, but they were two of the most valued objects she owned. She gently pulled them out and set them into her lucky bag, an old canvas messenger bag that she was given when she was a child.

Once they were secured within it, she got dressed. She threw on a grey dress that flowed easily, with black tights underneath, and a pair of boots. She grabbed her bag and as she reached for the door, she paused for a moment. ‘Am I really about to do this?’

She nodded her head once in affirmation and then stepped outside. ‘If I was Rey where would I be at this time? Mess hall.’

She headed in that direction, her head on a swivel as she tried to catch sight of Rey. She neared an entrance of the Mess Hall, when she heard someone call her name.

She turned around and saw Poe walking up with Finn.

“Hey, Poe! Have you seen Rey? Or Ben for that matter?” She greeted as they stopped in front of her.

“Uh. No. Not yet at least? That’s a new outfit?” Poe answered before getting distracted by her dress.

“Damn. Where are they?” She muttered, searching the mess hall, not taking notice of his question.

“So, about that date you keep refusing…” He slyly mentioned as he tried to regain her attention.

“AH! There she is!” Blix exclaimed, as she spotted Rey entering across the way, BB8 strolling with her, and Ben trailing behind.

She turned back to look at Poe and what he said registered in her brain finally, as she responded, “Uh. Yeah. Sure. How about dinner at my place tonight? I’ll cook. Say, 6pm?”

He blinked in surprise and confirmed slowly, “You’re saying.. yes? To dinner? With me?”

She blinked a bit too as she realized what she said, she took a moment to confirm that that is what she said, and that she meant it.

She, with a bright smile, affirmed, “Yes. I am.”

As a smile broke out on his face, she pointed back toward Rey and said, “Listen I gotta go do something but I’ll see you tonight!” She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips before rushing off.

Poe froze. Finn looked at him and waved his hand in front of his face trying to get him to respond.

“Poe? Poe you in there? Hey buddy? We gotta get grub before the meeting remember?” Finn entreated, as he shook Poe lightly.

“You saw that right? She kissed me? Like. Openly and in public for all to see?” Poe implored as looked down at Finn.

Finn nodded his head in response. Before he could say anything else, Poe moved forward to get food, talking to himself as he did so, Finn heard a lot of “she said yes” and “I’m going to marry her” before he tuned out and just grabbed food and Caf with him.

While Poe.exec was crashing, Blix had made her way quickly over to Rey and called out her name.

Rey stopped and looked at her slightly confused.

As Blix caught up to her, she looked at her and then Ben and said, “Come with me. Both of you.”

She held out her hands for them to take and looked at them encouragingly.

Rey gasped as she realized what was possibly about to happen. She grabbed her hand and looked at Ben with an eyebrow raised.

Ben looked at them both like they were nuts but rolled his eyes and took her other hand with a sigh.

She smiled at them both and led them out of the mess hall. BB8 asked if he could come with and she told him so long as he kept up.

She led them to her field and had both of them sit down. BB8 rolled in between them, and unbeknownst to any of them, sent a message to R2D2 to create a connection and show everyone what’s going on.

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

R2D2 was in the command center with everyone was planning the next attack on the First Order, when he began to receive the transmission from BB8. R2 moved forward and connected to the center computer and projected what was being seen via BB8.

“What is this R2?” General Leia asked.

R2 responded that it was coming BB8 currently. He’s with Dr. Blix, Rey, & Ben.

Luke rolled his eyes, still bitter about her little message she sent him the other day and gave Leia a look.

“I know. Let’s just see what’s happening, okay?” She calmly said, knowing he was not a fan of the doctor.

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

Blix looked at them and admitted, “Listen, I’m not very good at this. It’s been a hot second since I had to give elaborate speeches. But. I am honestly tired of all the bullshit, if we are going to be honest.”

She looked at Rey, and softly consoled, “Rey. It is admirable that you want to connect with the Jedi of the past. But they are not going to appear before you just because. They will come to you during times of your greatest need. Or as I call it: when my grandfather thinks I need to calm the hell down.”

Rey chuckled a bit and nodded her head in understanding.

Blix then turned to Ben, and assured, “Ben. I know. I understand what it is like to feel anger down to your bones. I know what it’s like to hate and want revenge. Believe I do. But that is not me anymore. Nor is that you. Just because you feel anger, does not mean you are losing control of yourself. Feeling anger is normal. Accept that and accept that you are stuck with us, and the chances of you returning to the Dark side is very slim.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and slowly replied, “O-kay.”

“Okay. Now that we’ve gotten the pep talk out of the way. I am going to tell you some things I have not told anyone in a really long time,” She began as she finally sat down with them. “Poe probably mentioned some things last week to you I assume?”

Rey nodded and confirmed, “Yes. I told Ben later on, before a training session and swore him to secrecy.”

“Alright. Well. Let’s get to it then,” She responded taking a deep breath. “I am a Jedi. I did not have a formal master, I just had my grandfather’s journals and scrolls, which…. Was great many of them. He lived alone for quite some time, so he wrote.. a lot. I am telling you this now, because I am tired of seeing you two struggle. I am tired of healing wounds that you refuse to tell anyone about but me.” She looked at both of them pointedly.

“I finished my training some time ago. So. I am going to steal you both from Luke, because he does not understand that his training is not working for you guys. Hell, Leia never even finished her training so, I’m not quite sure why she gets involved” She informed them.

Rey sat up straighter at this, and said with growing excitement, “Wait. Wait. You’re gonna train us? For real?”

At the same time Ben questioned, “Who was your grandfather?”

“Yes. Really real,” She answered. “And we’ll get to that soon enough.”

Rey was practically bouncing in her seat and Ben looked far more intrigued than he did before.

“Ok. So. Pull out your lightsabers for me please,” She requested and as they did so she had them set them down on the ground.

“Now, did Luke ever explain lightsaber colors to you? Like what they mean, beyond ‘red mean bad?’” She asked curiously.

Rey shook her head no, and Ben said, “If he did it was a long time ago.”

“Okay then. To the basics we go,” She acknowledged with a nod. “To begin with, way back when, the Jedi Counsel had a system in place when it came to one’s lightsaber. The colors had meaning and classified you in a way.”

“There were the Guardians, their skillset were in fighting. They trained themselves in various martial arts. They were the defenders,” She then reached into her bag and pulled out one of the items she brought. “Their lightsabers, like my grandfather’s that you see here, were blue. Just like Luke’s and Leia’s.”  She gently set it in front of her and looked at it fondly, with a smile.

She cleared her throat, before she continued, “Then there are the Consulars, who were more skilled in using the Force, and diplomacy. They used their lightsabers as a last resort. They tried to seek peace and harmony. Essentially, they were better at talking. My grandfather’s Master, Qui Gon Jin, in fact told me that I would make a decent Consular. Their sabers were green.”

“Lastly, there were the Sentinels, whose skills were less Force related and more specified. They had skills in both fighting and the Force, but they excelled in other subjects. They were engineers, mechanics, techs, pilots. Their sabers were yellow,” She concluded glancing at Rey who seemed in awe and smiled at her.

“As the years passed on the classes remained important, but the colors less so. Like. Mace Windu had a purple saber for example,” She further explained. “These sabers are meant to be a part of you. You connect with them on spiritual level, quite literally. That’s why both of you struggling with these,” she gestured to the sabers before them. “They weren’t made by you. You didn’t choose them or they you. So, one of these days, I’m going to take you two on an adventure and find your crystals/gems/stones- whichever they may be.”

Rey gave her a look of confusion at that last piece and said, “Stones and gems can power a lightsaber?”

“Mmhmm. Yes, they can. Stones tend to give off more earthy tones, and gems are very similar to crystals to be honest,” She clarified. “In fact, often times kyber crystals are synthetic. Sith sabers are made from synthetics for example. Or, if you live on a sand planet where no crystals can be formed,” She gave a pointed look towards Luke’s saber. “It all really depends on what’s available to you.”

“Any questions so far?” Blix stopped to take a moment.

“Wait. You said… Your grandfather was trained… under Qui Gon?” Ben asked staring at her strangely before his eyes widen in surprise. “Your grandfather was Obi Wan Kenobi?”

A small smirk slowly slipped on to her face that she tried to smother but failed.

“You’re a Kenobi?” Rey asked in shock. “How? Wha- Why-“

“It is a very long story, that I will eventually tell you but not today. But yes, I am a Kenobi. Glad to know you remember some of your history,” Blix complimented Ben.

“In fact, I think that’s all we are going to talk about today, I will arrange with the general a time where we can slip away for a few days to find your power sources and meditate. I will, however, show you one more thing,” she concluded.

She reached into her bag again and pulled out another saber, one that the base was black, and had runes and a strange language carved into the hilt. She stood up then and stepped back before pressing the button to light it.

“My saber color as you can see, is white with a black core, which makes it look grey in some angles. That’s my philosophy. There is not just the dark and light. There’s bits of grey in the universe that should be acknowledge,” she enlightened looking at her saber with pride before she turned it back off.

“So. I know, I’ve explained a lot. And I technically didn’t really ask either of you if wanted to be trained by me, but I shall ask now,” She admitted sheepishly, as she retrieved her grandfather’s saber from the ground. “Now that you know who I am, and what I know, do you wish to be trained by me, or do you want to finish training with Luke?”

They picked up their sabers, and stood up, dusting themselves off really quick. Rey pulled Ben a few feet away, and they began to whisper to one another.

She made a face and looked down at BB8 who had been strangely quiet during all of this. She then noticed the flickering light that indicating he was sending a live feed somewhere.

“Beebee… whatcha doin there bud?” She asked, her eyes squinted in suspicion.

Beebee beeped saying nothing.

Before she could call him out on lying, Rey and Ben came back over. “We decided that yes, we want to train under you, after we’ve explained things to Luke and Leia. We owe them that at least.” Rey declared.

Ben nodded his head in agreement, but also mumbled, “Though I personally don’t care about explaining anything to them, to be honest.”

Blix snorted and before she stated, “Alright then. Let’s go get food then yeah? I kinda stole ya during breakfast.”

As they made their way back onto base, the commander center was buzzing with the information that had been revealed.

“Admiral Holdo? You knew about this didn’t you?” Leia asked her with disbelief.

“It was not my secret to tell,” Amilyn replied simply. “It was not my intention to deceive you, but if anyone knew she was Kenobi, would spell trouble for her.”

Luke starred off into the distance, he knew the moment he saw that light saber just who it belonged to. He desired more answers but knew that he probably wouldn’t get any- not with her extreme dislike of him and his family. As he looked over at his sister, he could tell that she too, needed answers. Only time would tell if they would get them.

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

As You Are

Chapter: I’m Fine

Co-authors: hopeless_romantic_spoonie, yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Spoons pushes herself too far and takes a tumble. Loki is there to pick up the pieces.

Entire series also found on Ao3 here :)

A/N: As always, co-written by my masterful friend, @yespolkadotkitty​! She’s the bee’s knees.

Sometimes you didn’t listen to your body.

You should have stopped and taken a break after doing all of the dishes left over from the breakfast you had decided to make. But doing the dishes, you noticed that the counters needed a good wipe down. But while you were wiping down the counters you noticed that the floors were also pretty grubby, so you’d busted out the mop and taken care of that. By that point you were shaking from exhaustion and pain, but that part of your brain that told you to just ‘Stop!’ had taken a break and never returned.

So, in the middle of carrying a load of laundry across your small apartment, your back finally gave out and you tumbled to the floor. Fire exploded from your elbow, hip, and temple from the impact, and a cry tore itself from your throat. You were a creature of pain, curled up among your once-clean clothes, fighting the spasms that wracked your muscles as hot tears - partially born of shame - streamed down your face.

If you could only suck it up and crawl over to the couch, you could calm down the worst of the agony. But your meds were in the bathroom, so you’d still have to work your way there. You were quickly spiraling into the depths of your despair, fueled by frustration more than anything, when you heard your front door creak up.

“Kitten, I brought - What happened?”

Of course Loki would show up now.

He was at your side in an instant, green eyes wide with concern as he knelt among your clothes. “How can I assist you? What do you need?”

He’d seen you in pain, he’d seen you exhausted beyond all belief, but he’d never seen you so hurt and so angry that you were reduced to tears. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but you also needed to get up off the floor if you had any hope of being able to even walk tomorrow.

Avoiding his gaze, you tried to lift yourself up onto your elbows, which only resulted in you gasping as the red hot fire of your battered nerves stole your breath away. Panting, you clenched your eyes shut, opening your hands in surrender to the god still leaning over you. “I hate asking it, but can you put me on my bed?”

“What else can I do?” he asked, carefully sliding his arms beneath you, cradling you to his chest. Your fingers clutched onto the lapel of his shirt, loose as the first few buttons had been left undone, and you breathed in the calming scent of citrus and leather that perfumed his skin.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, even as your face twisted in the discomfort of him gingerly laying you down on your bed. There goes any sexual feelings he ever had for me.

The bed pitched beneath you as he settled next to you, and you gritted your teeth when his warm, calloused fingers just barely grazed the growing lump on your forehead. “You are not fine. What do you need?”

Stubborn to a fault, you opened your eyes and tilted your head enough to look at him. You tried for a reassuring smile, but even you could tell that it didn’t sit quite right on your face. “I’m okay, really. What’d you bring?”

You hadn’t ever really been on the receiving end of his wrath before, and even the taste of it hardening his eyes was enough to make your heart stutter in your chest. “Do not lie to me, kitten. You cannot even move and you are still crying. Now, tell me the truth, foolish Midgardian.”

Successfully chided, although he’d added gentleness to his tone, you bit your bottom lip and wiped at the tears betraying your true emotions before letting your hand fall onto the bed next to you. “Two pain pills and a muscle relaxer, please.”

He nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. He returned quickly with the pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. “Better. Have you eaten today?”

You took the medicine gratefully and managed to stretch your arm enough to put the glass on your nightstand. Not wanting to get in trouble again, you shook your head. “No, I might’ve forgotten…”

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them to look at you. Sadness furrowed his brow as he took you in, and you could easily convince yourself that what he was truly feeling was pity. Everyone did at some point, why not him?

“Luckily, I came prepared with dinner. I needed to pay Nai Nai a visit, and she sent along her noodles. She calls them bee hoon, for you. Her daughter, about your age, is, she tells me, quite obsessed with them. Will those suffice?”

“Yes please.”

He returned some minutes later with the takeout plated in a plastic bowl for you to more easily eat it. You were more grateful for the fork he provided, since you doubted you’d be able to manage chopsticks with your shaking hands. He helped you into a sitting position, propping you up with various pillows and blankets, until you could hold the bowl in your lap while he sat next to you with his food. The mingled scents of soy sauce, sesame and roasted meat drifted up to your nose from the bowl.

You sat there silently, brain too fogged over from pain to really think of anything to say, eating your delicious dinner and waiting for the meds to kick in. Both seemed to help ease your suffering when you were halfway done with the food, and you felt the worst of the tension leak out of your body so that you could form a coherent thought. Swallowing a bite of noodles, you managed to make yourself look up to his face, steeling yourself for whatever you may find there. “Thank you, for helping me.”

He snorted. “I certainly wasn’t going to leave you on the floor.”

No longer hungry, you shoved the bowl further down your legs to wring your hands together. “I.. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” he asked, abandoning his own food to look to you, brow quirked up in mild confusion.

“You don’t deserve…” you paused, waving your hands up and down your body, “this. You are so strong and capable and I can’t even do chores around the house without my legs giving out from beneath me.”

“Why was it vitally important that you get the housework done by yourself?” he asked, cupping your jaw to hold your gaze to him when you tried to look away from him.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It needed to be done.”

“That is what I am here for, kitten. You should not waste your spoons on something so trivial when there are much more enjoyable activities you could partake in,” he said, the hint of a mischievous twinkle lighting up his eyes.

“I’m just so broken and it isn’t going to get better,” you muttered, frustrated again, almost begging him to understand your point of view. He deserved someone whole, beautiful and full of life, to stand by his side.

You caught the faintest hint of blue blooming on his skin before his hand settled over the knot on your forehead, delightfully cool against the throbbing heat. He leaned against your headboard and carefully maneuvered you so that you were leaning against him, front supported against his side and back by his arm wrapped around you. “You are not broken. Not even close. If I want to see someone who is, I must simply find a mirror.”

Your hand splayed across his stomach, fidgeting idly with a button on his shirt. He was being far too kind about this, but the warm kiss that he left on the crown of your head seemed to travel throughout your whole body, lessening the load on your heart and easing some of your worries. For now. “Since your hands are occupied, you can’t read me any poetry, can you?”

A chuckle, much lighter than the atmosphere of the room only moments before, sounded into your ear through his chest. A book from your nightstand gracefully floated into the air before his face, and the pages turned of their own accord to the bookmark he had placed there the other night. “You underestimate me, darling.”

“How foolish of me, Loki,” you murmured, closing your eyes as you curled into him, losing yourself in the steady and soothing cadence of his heaven-sent voice.

He’d chosen WB Yeats this time.

“I have spread my dreams under your feet,” he read, his British accent wrapped in velvet. “Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.”

[dreamingsushi]

Dance of the Phoenix - Episode 3

Okay, one last episode. Let’s get a glass of water, wash our face and apply a mask and let’s go. Okayyyyy! Now we are readyyy! Let’s gooo!

Last episode ended with Mu Yao trying to frame Feng Wu by letting Jun Linyuan believe she pushed her on the ground. That is so childish. I don’t think Jun Linyuan would actually buy this. But he doesn’t need to meddle, because our Feng Wu isn’t a lady who lets people bully her easily. So she uses her medicinal knowledge as a pretext to heal her, and she massages to hurt her on purpose. Because she doesn’t like the pain, Mu Yao promptly gets up. And runs away, angry at Feng Wu that her plan (stupid) didn’t work.

However, our prince isn’t too happy either with Fen Wu pranking Mu Yao and he scolds her that if she does something like that again, he’ll leave her alone in there. To gain his favour back, she decides to treat his wound, but doing so, it activates the loveless venom, which causes him to have pain in his chest and he moves away brutally from her. He gets away for a little and wonders why the venom acted up. When he went to Penglai, they couldn’t cure him from that because the only way to do so is through the tear of someone who loves him and would be willing to die for him.

Feng Xun is little down because he feels like everybody likes Jun Linyuan better. He never got any praise and is always in the shadow of his two friends. However, Feng Wu cheer him up. I really like Feng Xun, he’s such a sweet character. I just don’t hope for a love triangle for them, because it’s going to break my heart, because I will ship them. Like, I want her to end up with Jun Linyuan actually, but I would like for Feng Xun to have his happiness with her too. And you know what’s worse than second lead syndrome? It’s second lead syndrome while shipping the main couple together. BECAUSE YOU CAN’T EVEN BE SPITEFUL.

Jun Linyuan bumps into Yu Ming Ye and gives him a pill that will suppress his spiritual energy for twelve hours. They fight a little, but verbally and Jun Linyuan ends up hanging Yu Ming Ye for his minions to find him. He won’t let him find the fruit first. I know Yu Ming Ye is in the bad guys’ team, but I am feeling this character is going to be interesting. I hope my intuition is not wrong. Not long after that, Feng Wu comes over, looking for Jun Linyuan. Seeing Yu Ming Ye hanging, she decides to save him, but when he moves, she runs away. His vision is blurry, he couldn’t see her properly, but he thinks he saw a goddess. Well, not exactly a goddess. The actual translation for that is fairy, but not as in western tales fairies. This kind of fairy is for a very beautiful immortal human. Someone with a generous heart. When she comes back to sleep, she leaves a gourd next to Jun Linyuan, no idea what is in there. And he protects her from bugs when she sleeps. But... How are there any mosquitos in there? Like... it’s the frozen forest and it’s cold? Bug are strong over there.

The next day while they go on with their journey, they get separated when evil spirits attack  them. Feng Wu and Jun Linyuan quickly end up bumping into each other. That Feng Wu is really clumsy. She loses her balance and instead of just catching her, he catches her and rolls under her, falling with her. I feel that was unnecessary. Oh. That’s because they needed to add the accidental kiss while falling. Classic. Following that, to lighten the mood, she tries to make him talk, but he’s not really talkative and asks him questions about the celestial fruit. She’s wondering if it wouldn’t be a little mean to take it away from him while he saved her so many times.

Zuo Qingluan gets to a village which is harassed by a beast. The villagers say that a female cultivator came before, but she couldn’t manage to win over the beast. Zuo Qingluan wonders if it was Zhao Ge. I can’t wait to see who is that Zhao Ge.

Jun Linyuan decides that they should take a rest for the night as the fog is too dense, they’ll just get more lost by going on. Feng Wu is kind of scared by the spookiness of the forest and makes Jun Linyuan sing for her. But he’s a terrible singer, it sounds pretty awful. Well it was a good idea because the three others heard him and then will be able to find him, but still. Then, Feng Wu makes him stop singing, in case it calls out for the wolf. Well it does worse as a charm spirit comes into play. Jun Linyuan fights them to protect Feng Wu, but then he faints from watching in their eyes. Feng Wu is saved by her spiritual ring and the firecloud giant hawk gets into. It looked more like an illusion of it though. And right then the others find them. They set a camp for the night.

When Xiaowu is asleep, she hears a voice calling for her from the ring. She gets into the ring and tries to wake up her master, but because he gave her the rest of his phoenix blood, he can’t wake up. The firecloud hawk was actually sent by her master to protect the fruit. It’s now in the form of a parrot which has a very annoying voice. It explains to her the energy barrier is broken now and that she needs to get the fruit to regain her powers and after wake up her master to save the world. The parrot will help her get the fruit and tell what to do next.

At home, Feng Wu’s mom isn’t eating anymore. Qiu Ling tries to make her at least have a bite when somebody starts knocking at the door. She’s sure Feng Wu is back, but it’s actually people from the Feng family looking for Feng Wu. It looks like trouble is coming.

Both the darknight court people and our little friends get to the celestial fruit at the same time. And we will only know in episode 4 who will get the fruit.

This is consistent in being good so far. I’m glad I was recruited to translate this because otherwise I might have not watched this and that would have been a shame. I really enjoy this show. So beautiful. I’m looking forward next episode, tomorrow or the day after that, we’ll. For now, let’s just enjoy the ending theme. Good you all!

[pengychan]

[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 14

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by Dara.

[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: Aaaand shit hits the fan. You knew it was coming.

***

“I honestly cannot figure out if they’re dancing or fighting.”

“A bit of both, really. Brings out their best, through. You know, makes it more, er… passionate?”

“Oh, it does,” Armando agrees, staring at the scene through the glass. “Absolutely.”

Héctor smiles a little and follows his gaze. In the next room over, Imelda and Ernesto are singing - more to keep the tempo than for any other reason, they already recorded their cover of La Llorona with Héctor playing and that will be the audio - and dancing in front of a green screen, several cameras recording every move. Ernesto looks dashing in his best white charro and oh, Imelda is a dream in purple.

It was Armando’s idea to involve her in the music video, really, soon after the three of them had recorded the cover. He hadn’t been so keen on the idea of having Imelda sing with them as a guest - he had a couple of big names in mind - but after listening to the less-than-professional recording Héctor had on his phone, he was willing to give it a chance... and loved the result.

Truth be told, convincing Imelda to star in the video as well wasn’t easy; she was uncomfortable at the idea and honestly, Héctor was ready to drop it at the first ‘no’. Ernesto seemingly dropped it as well, but made a few sly remarks on how he couldn’t blame her for being worried she couldn’t keep up with him and his dancing. 

Which gained him, of course, a raised eyebrow from Imelda.

“You do realize, I hope, that this attempt at goading me into it is about as transparent as it gets.”

“Is it working?” Ernesto asked, only for her to roll her eyes. 

“No. I have no interest in humiliating you in front of your agent.”

“Oh?”

“You’re the one who wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

“Then prove it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Chickening out, I see.”

“This isn’t going to work.”

“So you’re just going to pass on a chance to show me up in front of our manager?”

“...”

And… that was it, really, and here they are now, going through the routine time and time again, each refusing to give ground and dancing at their absolute best. It is the last thing that still needs doing - everything else is done, their debut album ready - and Armando wants to wrap up the filming within the day. If Ernesto and Imelda keep going like this, which Héctor is fairly sure they will do, they’re going to be exhausted by evening, but that’s not going to be a problem.

Héctor will very gladly take care of both of them.

***

“Don’t tell me you’re tired, Ernesto.”

“Absolutely not. Are you?”

“Not at all.”

Héctor bites his lower lip not to laugh at the conversation, which they’re carrying out sprawled at the opposite ends of the couch in a way that belies their words - both of them laying back, boneless and so obviously, utterly exhausted. Ernesto’s hair is dishevelled, whatever product he put on it clearly having given in, while Imelda’s hair is loose on her shoulders in dark waves. Even tired, she is beautiful. Ernesto is… not quite as much, but Héctor doesn’t mention it. 

Instead, he grins and picks up his guitar. “So, who’s up for another round?” he asks, and barely ducks under two pillows thrown at him at the exact same time. Dante leaps to catch one, only to miss and crash against a chair while Pepita takes possession of it, to sit on it with the dignity of a queen. The other pillow is snatched by the Chihuahua pack; it takes all of them to carry it across the room, and they disappear beneath an armchair. 

Normally, Imelda wouldn’t tolerate any pets but Pepita to take possession of those pillows; now, she seems very much beyond caring. As for Ernesto, he really never gave a damn.

“... I take it we’re not going out to celebrate wrapping this up?” Héctor pushes his luck again.

“No,” Imelda drones just as Ernesto mutters, “Tomorrow.”

Héctor’s grin widens. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re tired-- ouch!” He yelps, in surprise rather than pain, when something - Imelda’s slipper - smacks against his thigh.

Still sprawled on the other end of the couch, Ernesto nods. “Good shot.”

“Thanks. And I have another one.”

“Just kidding, just kidding!” Héctor protests with a laugh, holding the guitar up and almost hiding behind it. “But there is a fun activity I can suggest. One where I do all the work!” he almost shrieks when Imelda’s hand reaches for her other slipper. 

The hand pauses in mid-air, and her eyebrows go up. “All the work?”

“Yes!”

She glances at Ernesto. He tilts his head. “Am I included in the fun activity?”

“Oh, like you would accept any answer but yes,” Héctor laughs, finally putting down the guitar. “All right, step one - you get your clothes off.”

“That sounds like work to me.”

“And you said you’d be doing all of it.”

“Ay, since when are you so laz--” Héctor ducks suddenly, and Imelda’s remaining slipper through the air. He jumps aside, and gives a victory grito. “Hah! Missed-- ouch! Ow! Seriously?”

Now missing a shoe, Ernesto gives him a satisfied smirk. “My aim is better,” he tells Imelda.

“I didn’t go for the head,” she points out. 

“See, that’s the problem. You don’t aim high enough.”

Héctor rolls his eyes. “... Is either of you interested in what I’m suggesting?”

As it turns out they are very, very interested. But also very, very tired. 

Half an hour later, buried beneath their snoozing forms - they stayed awake through the process of taking off their clothes and getting to the bedroom, but not much longer - Héctor sighs, trying to will his erection into going away, as he’s clearly not getting to use it at all tonight.

Ah well, there will be time to make up for it in the morning. Then maybe they’ll go out for a late breakfast someplace fancy, to celebrate the fact the album is done - their first step into proper stardom, as Ernesto calls it. Not that stardom matters much to Héctor, but it will be nice to have some extra income. So that Imelda can get a proper shop soon, and maybe they can start thinking… maybe…

Above him, Ernesto shifts sleepily and yawns. Héctor finds himself yawning as well, and the thought stays incomplete. He shuts his eyes, smiles at the tickle of Imelda’s breath against his neck, and lets sleep claim him as well. The future may hold a lot for them as Ernesto says but, for now, Héctor is happy to simply enjoy the present as long as it lasts. 

It doesn’t last.

***

“Mierda.”

That is far from the most original thing to say; probably the very same word countless women found themselves uttering in various languages in the privacy of their bathroom, staring at two small lines on a pregnancy test stick - but at the moment, Imelda is unable to think of anything else to say. She can only lean back, heart in her throat, trying to think through the buzzing sound suddenly filling her ears.

No. No, no, no, no, no. It can’t be - it just cannot be - she’s on the pill, has been taking it religiously for the past several years, every day at the same time without fail. And she was lucky, too, never had any complications or side effects. Take the pill every day, stop a few days - cue period - and then on with the pill again. Nothing has ever gone wrong… until now. 

Because she stopped taking it as usual, and there was no period to speak of. She tried not to worry, because sometimes human bodies are odd like that, and picked up the pregnancy test as an afterthought, thinking a negative result it would give her some peace of mind before she booked an appointment with her doctor to figure out if she needed to change brand of birth control. 

Looks like I’ll have to call her for entirely different reasons.

Despite the voice in the back of her mind telling her that pregnancy tests are not infallible, Imelda can feel panic beginning to tighten her throat - because she knows that neither is birth control. But the pill is supposed to be effective in… over ninety-nine percent of cases. It worked until now, how can this be happening? What has changed in the past month? She can think of nothing, no big changes other than adopting a hyperactive and particularly stupid stray dog, full of ticks and with an infection--

… Wait. Wait just a moment.

Mind in turmoil, Imelda stands and throws open the medicine cabinet. There are some blisters of painkillers ‘just in case’, disinfectant, bandaids, some tampons, hair products she had told Ernesto to store somewhere else - and something else, the open box of the medication they all had to take after taking in Dante to find out he had a contagious fungal infection. Imelda tears it out of the cabined, pulls out the instruction booklet, and reads through it. 

As it turns out, she should have done it much earlier. 

Caution: when taken alongside birth control pills, it reduces the level of the hormone--

The booklet falls off Imelda’s fingers, floating slowly down on the tiles. She stares down at it for a few moments, then a few minutes, her ears buzzing. Now she knows what went wrong; later, once she shock has worn off, she will kick herself for being so careless. But right now, the one big question in her mind is what is she going to do about it.

It shouldn’t make her feel gutted. She and Héctor do want children; they agreed to wait until her business properly took off - and it has - and he got a foot firmly in the music industry - and he just did. This is... earlier than they planned, but it is what they wanted.

Except that, when they made plans, Ernesto was not yet in the picture. Not the way he is now.

At least… yes, at least there isn’t the issue of not knowing who the father is; in all the nights they have spent together, Ernesto has never been in her. At first because she didn’t want him to be - she considered that something for her husband only - and then… it had simply not happened. It almost did last week after they finally went out to celebrate the wrapping up of the album and oh, thank God, thank God he was too tipsy for it.

The father is Héctor, it can only be him, and it spares her the ordeal of not knowing and all the mess that would come out of it - because what would they even do, if it was Ernesto’s? Tell the truth, and force a child to deal with the stigma for the arrangement the three of them were in? They could decided to lie about it, pretend otherwise, but what if the truth got out? What if the child grew up to look far too much like their good family friend? Someone would find out, and… ah, she can’t imagine anything good coming out of it. It is a relief to know it will never happen.

But along with the relief, there is a burning sense of shame. Did she truly nearly get herself in the position of getting pregnant without even being certain who the father would be? That was… irresponsible of her. It had been meant to be a one-night deal, but it got well out of control and now it’s been… God, almost a year. How could she let it get this far?

Much, much too far. It cannot continue.

No, it really cannot, with a baby on the way. She will be a mother, Héctor will be a father, and Ernesto… he needs to be only a family friend again. She won’t object to Héctor and him being something more than that, as long as it is done discreetly and away from their home, but the three of them sharing a bed… that needs to end. The third wheel - she ignores the thought that Ernesto has come to be more than that, she must, if she’s to carry this out - needs to come off. 

It would be far too dangerous with a child at home, asking questions. A child who would take the fall if word got out that their mother and father share a bed with another man, because it would be delusional to think their arrangement would simply be quietly accepted. Imelda could face the disapproval with her head held high if need be, but how could she ask that of a child? What kind of mother would let that happen?

It had to end, eventually. He’ll understand, he must. It is for the best. For everyone’s sake.

By the time she leaves the bathroom, the positive pregnancy test in her hand, Imelda has her mind made up. It hurts more than she ever thought it possibly might - a dull ache in her chest - but that’s not relevant right now. There is a baby coming, and she needs to do the right thing. 

Even if Ernesto doesn’t agree, he must come to accept it. He’ll bounce back, Imelda tells herself, and she can believe that. Maybe she’s overestimating how attached Ernesto actually got. He’ll probably go back to his flings and one-night stands, if those ever really did stop. 

Maybe he’ll throw a tantrum, as he often does when he doesn’t get his way, but she’s sure he’ll eventually be glad to have bailed out once the realities and responsibilities of having a child in the house become clear; he’ll mock them over the lack of nights out as he used to do only last year. She’ll get annoyed, and he’ll laugh it off. Like old times - arguably better than old times, because she refuses to think the understanding they have reached can simply vanish like that. 

He’ll still be welcome in their home, just not in their bedroom. If she and Héctor are to be parents, it is time to put childish things behind them. She understands that and, she’s sure, so will her husband. Anyone with an ounce of common sense would see it is the only way forward. 

“Héctor.”

Her voice is flat when she calls out, still somewhat numb, from the door of the living room. It causes Héctor - who is sprawled on the couch, song book in his hands and a foot braced against Dante to keep him from taking over - to look up, a pen in his mouth and another behind his ear. The one in his mouth falls off when he sees her expression and opens his mouth to speak; the other is dislodged when he sits up, putting the songbook aside. 

“Imelda? What is it? Are you all right?” he asks, concern plain in her voice. Imelda draws in a deep breath, grip on the positive test tightening, and speaks quietly. 

“We need to talk.”

***

“We need to talk.”

Héctor hears Imelda’s words through the loud blaring of an alarm. Or at least, that’s what it feels like: ‘we need to talk’ is very firmly among the top ten sentences that can make people question their every life choice, from the womb up to the second those words reach their ears.

We need to talk. 

All right, all right. Time to keep his cool. Maybe he did something wrong - he probably did something wrong - and now they will talk it through. It is all right. Time to act as any reasonable adult would. Or not.

Nuh-uh, no. Nope. Nope nope nope. Abort mission, abort, abort. 

“Great! We will! Soon! Soon-ish,” Héctor blurts out, and goes to grab his guitar, which is resting against the wall. His panicked brain fails to pick up the fact he’s holding it sideways. “I just thought up a song - I mean, I was thinking up a song - the words are giving me some trouble but I got most of the melody down, want to hear--”

“Héctor,” Imelda speaks up, putting a hand on the guitar. She looks… ay, she looks pale, and Héctor’s dumb panic immediately turns into concern. He puts down the guitar, almost dropping it on the only part of the couch not occupied by Dante, and cups her cheek. 

“What… what is it? Are you feeling ill?”

“No, I--”

“Do you need to see a doctor?”

“Possibly later, but--”

Héctor’s brain somehow freezes and starts working twice the normal speed, simultaneously. The result is that he only gets stupid thoughts, but in much quicker succession than normal. She’s seriously ill, she has cancer, she’s the calmest person ever to experience a heart attack and oh God when was last time either of them did a full health check-up?

“Oh my God, you’re ill!” 

“No!”

“You’re pale!”

“Héctor--”

“You said we need to talk, and you were using That Voice, it has got to be something serious!”

“Well, it is something serious--”

“I’ll call an ambulance!”

“No, you will not-- Héctor, put the phone down-- por Dios-- I’m pregnant, Héctor!”

Héctor’s neurological functions skid to to nearly a full stop, leaving enough electrical activity to keep him breathing, but just barely. He stammers. He drops the phone. He stares. His brains sputters back into activity. 

“Pregnant,” he repeats, as though trying out a foreign word. Imelda bites her lower lip, nods, and holds up something - a stick. A pregnancy test with two tiny lines showing on the screen. Héctor blinks at it. “... How?”

That gains him a look that’s somewhere between stunned, pitying, and ‘oh God who did I marry’. “... The usual way?”

Ah. Right. That was… no, wait. It wasn’t that stupid a question, she’s supposed to be on the pill, and-- and--

I’m going to be a papá.

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks, kickstarting his brain into a semi-functional status again. He blinks at her, his face beginning to open up in what’s probably the biggest, dumbest smile since… their wedding, maybe. Probably since ever. 

“A baby? You’re having a baby? We’re having a baby?”

Imelda seems to hesitate a moment, then her own expression opens up in a smile. It is somewhat tentative, but there is no mistaking the sheer joy of it; it’s like it occurred to her just now that she ought to be, and is, happy. “Sí. We’re having a baby.” 

Héctor’s grito is loud enough to make Pepita shoot from the chair she was napping to the ceiling, while Dante flops off the couch with a yelp and runs to hide under a table. Imelda may also be trying to say something about her eardrums, but it’s lost in gales of laughter when he grabs her, kisses her, and twirls her around - improvising a silly, very uncoordinated dance across their living room.

Imelda laughs, too; she kisses him back, throws her arms around his neck, dances with him as he sings - “What color's the sky? ¡Ay mi amor, ay mi amor!” - and eventually they both stumble back on the couch, laughing, holding onto each other as the notion sinks in that they’re going to be parents. 

It’s... a little earlier than they imagined it would happen, but it’s all right. They can make it work, Héctor knows they will, and-- ah, he can’t wait. He only just knew they have a baby on the way and he can’t wait to meet them. 

“Imagine your parents’ face when we tell them-- and your brothers-- they're going to be tíos!”

“And they’ll never get to be in the same room as the baby unsupervised,” Imelda mutters, with a slightly exaggerated shudder of fake horror. Well, maybe not entirely fake.

Héctor laughs again, as though drunk on happiness, ignoring the brief stab of sadness at the thought that their baby will only have one set of grandparents. And no tíos from his side, since he never had siblings and-- ah, what is he thinking? Ernesto is going to be their tío, of course, they grew up together, it’s only fair.

“Wait until I tell Ernesto!” he exclaims, wishing the cabrón hadn’t chosen that day of all days to go get his nails done; if he were home, he’d be running downstairs in minutes to pound at his door and tell him the news. “I fully expect him to be the godfather! And to try and not hog all the attention at the christening, if he can manage-- are we doing that in Santa Cecilia? I think it would be nice, but Ernesto never wants to go back, so maybe--”

“Héctor.” Imelda’s hand is light on his cheek, her voice quiet, and Héctor knows something is amiss before he glances at her, at her somber expression. But this time, there is no panic: just the quiet realization of where this is going. “This is what we need to talk about. Ernesto,” she says, taking his hand. She looks saddened, but resolute. “... We’re having a baby. A child to raise. This-- the arrangement has to end.”

Oh. There is a stab of something in his chest, the kind of ache that comes with the realization that something good - something wonderful - has to come to an end, and sooner than planned. But Imelda is right, as she usually is; a child is going to change everything. A child in the house is going to change everything, and it’s their responsibility to make… adjustments. She can see that, he can see that… and he hopes that so will Ernesto. 

“He will understand,” Héctor says through a lump in his throat. But it hurts, and his words sound unconvincing to his own ears. 

For all the talents Ernesto has, knowing when to step aside was never one of them.

***

Something is… wrong. 

It takes a while for Ernesto to notice, really, because throughout the dinner he’s rather busy talking - about the album, about future projects, about the new guitar he wants to buy, about himself in general because he does find himself to be a very interesting subject. They’re halfway through the main course when he realizes he’s not getting interrupted nearly as often as usual; by the time the waiter brings in the desserts, he finally notices the nervous glances they’re exchanging. Or at least, Héctor looks nervous; Imelda just seems to be… bracing herself.

Something is not right, Ernesto thinks, only moments before Héctor clears his throat.

“So, uh…” he manages a smile that is, at the same time, delighted and absolutely unconvincing. “Imelda and I have-- we have news.” He puts a hand down on the table, palm up, and Imelda grasps it with her own.

Later on, that is something that will keep coming back to mock him through sleepless, lonely nights: those joined hands, the way the fingers intertwine, how perfectly they fit. How complete they are, without him. But right now, it just unnerves him slightly; he looks up from their joined hands to meet Héctor’s gaze, confused more than alarmed. 

“News?”

A nod, and the smile becomes a less forced, brighter. By his side, Imelda is expressionless as a sphynx. “We’re having a baby,” Héctor says, and grips Imelda’s hand tighter.

Ernesto stares. Blinks. Opens his mouth, closes it again, opens it once more.  “... What?”

Another squeeze of Imelda’s hand, but Ernesto doesn’t notice: he can only stare at Héctor’s, too stunned for words, as he swallows and speaks again.

“Imelda is pregnant. We’re going to be parents.” The smile again, more tentative, more anxious. Ernesto’s eyes shift to Imelda, who remains expressionless. She is trying to keep control over the situation; Ernesto takes it as cold indifference as she nods and speaks, her voice calm, her words measured. 

“... I am.”

Ernesto’s head spins a little. This is… bad. A kid would change everything and he doesn’t want things to change. “But how-- I mean-- I thought you were…?”

“I was on the pill, but some medication... interfered. I am five weeks in.”

“Five weeks,” Ernesto repeats, and there is some relief in his voice. Five weeks is still early enough for it to be taken care of - it would be a nightmare in Santa Cecilia, but in Mexico City? It can be done. He opens his mouth to say it aloud, but Imelda seems to have read his mind.

“We do want this baby, Ernesto.” Her voice is just a little more forceful, and again Ernesto is briefly stunned into silence. She sighs. “We always wanted children, you know that. This only comes… a little earlier than planned.”

Ernesto blinks, and turns to look at Héctor. He looks saddened, and it hits him suddenly - he knows where this is going. This is it, then - he’s getting the family he’s always wanted, they both are, and Ernesto is… no longer needed. He shakes his head, acutely aware of the fact he can’t say too much or too loudly, being in a restaurant and all. Only later, in hindsight, will he realize they told him in a restaurant to keep him from making a scene. 

“Wait, wait-- what about--” what about me? “What about-- us?”

Héctor swallows. “You are still my best friend,” he says, and tries to reach across the table to put a hand on Ernesto’s arm, but he pulls back with a scoff. 

“Oh, so that’s it? It’s over, just like that?”

Imelda shakes her head. “You and Héctor-- I won’t mind. But not at home, and… not with me.”

Is she serious? Does she really think it is enough-- that he will just-- Christ, does she feel anything about it at all? She may as well be made of ice, and Ernesto clenches his teeth, fury burning in his chest. He’s so angry, all of a sudden; at her for not caring, at himself for giving a damn that she doesn’t care, and at Héctor for just taking her side. 

Of course he’d take her side. She has him whipped, and he’s a coward.

“You can’t!” he snaps, and finally her indifferent expression is broken, the hint of a frown creasing her brow. 

“I can. I have every right to call myself out of it. Or would you force me?”

“What-- no!” 

“There you have it, then. The arrangement, as it is, needs to end. I can’t keep being part of it.”

Anger barely in check, a sudden ache in his chest, Ernesto turns to Héctor. “And you agree with this?” he snaps. His best friends returns his gaze, still saddened… but his voice is firm. 

“There’s a baby coming. We need to… to make some changes, even if we don’t like it. For the baby.”

Oh, of course. Anything for the damn baby that’s not even a baby yet-- but what about about him?

What do they care? They have their baby now. A brand new third wheel. That’s all I was, no? It was stupid to think that had changed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

It stings - a lot - and Ernesto realizes that if he stays there he’ll scream or, worse yet, break. So he does the only thing he can do: he stands abruptly, almost knocking down the chair, and storms out of the restaurant - trying not to think, saying nothing, without looking back. 

He doesn’t think he could stand turning to see those two still there, hand in hand - but ah, it’s no longer just the two of them, is it? There are three people around that table. The perfect number.

And he’s not part of it anymore.

***

“All right. What’s wrong?”

Sofía’s voice rings out in the darkened room. Ernesto, who’s staring at the wall and scowling, makes a face despite knowing she can’t see it at all.

“Nothing,” he says, hoping it will be enough. It clearly… isn’t.

“Yeah, no. You show up and suggest drinks, which was always your code for ‘fuck later’, and I say sure, got no plans for the night and it’s been a while. With you, I mean, I kept myself busy.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“We go out to have the drinks and you hardly talk, which is not unwelcome but also unlike you, since you can spend up to three hours talking about yourself without pausing - I timed you once,” Sofía says, and pokes him in the ribs. “Cigarette?”

“Not good for my voice,” Ernesto grumbles, still resting on his side to glare at the wall. He hears the sound of a lighter, a deep inhale, and he hopes she’s done talking. She’s not.

“I mean, really - there was karaoke going on and you didn’t elbow your way to the microphone. That is so unlike you it gets into worrying territory.”

“I was not in the mood--”

“Then you come to my place, fail to get it up - not that unusual, really--”

“Hey now--”

“-- But nothing some work can’t fix, and then suddenly you have a headache and would rather just sleep.”

“You’re giving me a headache right now,” he points out, turning.

“So you did not have a headache,” Sofía mutters, and triumphant note in her voice, and Ernesto snorts, shutting his eyes. There is a huff, and she rests her chin on his upper arm, blowing some smoke in his face. “Come on, who was it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I recognize heartbreak when I see it, amigo.”

“I’m not heartbroken!” he sputters indignantly, spitting out the last word like it’s something rotten, and turns his head to glare at her - getting another puff of smoke in the face.

“Hu-uh. And I’m a bride of Christ,” she mutters, and pulls back to rest on her back, a hand reaching out to tangle in his hair. “Look, I still have no plans for the night. If you want to keep up your Macho Act I’ll go make myself a sandwich, have another smoke and go watch a movie or something. If you’d rather talk about it, I’ll listen. You’ve got time until I finish this cigarette to decide.”

Ernesto lets out scoff and stands, throwing the sheets off himself. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he says sourly, grabbing his clothes. He’s out of the door a minute later, slamming it shut, and gaining no reaction but a raised eyebrow and another drag of the cigarette.

***

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Cherry Syrup

"Kan," Rose sighed, grabbing her wife's wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth, stopping her frantic chewing on her fingers. "She just has a cold, she's not dying."

Kanaya stared blankly at her wife, forming a worried scrunch of her face as she turned her gaze at their nine month old baby. She seemed peacefully sleeping in her crib, yes, but not that many hours ago she was crying as all hell broke loose; her nose congested as she scratched harshly at her throat, perhaps thinking the unbearable raspy feeling was on the outside of her skin.

The jadeblood practically had dropped anything she was busy handling, rushing to her daughter's rescue at the sound of her cry. Kanaya wouldn't stop cradling her close to her chest, like as if she was fragile to the touch, one slip up and she could break. It was also an important reason why their house was cozy and burning; Kanaya had suggested to crank up their heater, to fight off any other cold infections. 

Rose furrowed her brows, bringing her wife in close, an attempt to distract her. 

"Kanaya, darling, Lilith isn't the only member in this household that requires your affection..." Rose purred, running the pads of her fingers along Kanaya's forearm, languidly. Kanaya looked down at Rose, a surprised green blush sweeping her cheeks. 

Rose leaned in, stepping onto her tippy toes to kiss her wife amorously, but came into contact with her ear instead. 

The blonde reeled back, spitting and protruding out her tongue in disgust. She huffed at the way Kanaya craned her neck, gazing over their baby with such transfixed eyes. Now, Rose would never pin herself as jealous over something so small and so expected of babies to steal attention; however, her own daughter or not, Rose genuinely missed having Kanaya's full consideration and being the only entity in her world. 

In defense, she supposed she was bit of a mother hen as well when Lilith was born, shadowing Kanaya's needs. Rose was about to blow a fuse if this was intentional revenge. 

A soft cry emitted into the air as Kanaya gently picked the ill hybrid up, rocking her in her arms. Rose frowned at the display. 

"As endearing as it is, to see you care for our child, that doesn't take away my demands to get you in bed." Rose muttered, causing Kanaya to scowl at her wife's statement. 

"Rose, Lilith needs us, she's fallen sick." Kanaya reminded, positioning her baby's head up on her shoulder. Rose sighed dejectedly, looking into Lilith's pale green eyes, beginning to feel exhausted. 

As the night went on, Kanaya never dared to put down Lilith, going as far as settling the hybrid in between her and Rose, comfortable on their bed. 

Lilith tucked her head underneath Kanaya's chin, the jadeblood in turn curling around her and slipping an arm under Rose's neck. 

Rose gazed at the ceiling, her eyes drooping but the idea of sleeping at the moment apparently didn't appeal to Rose's system, not just yet, weirdly. A sudden weight added at her feet made Rose perk up quickly, finding a portly cream cat mewling quietly, his fur sticking up in all different directions,  like as if he'd been shocked by lightning. He began padding to Rose, earning a scratch on his fuzzy head when he was in arm's reach. 

The cat glanced beside himself, bristling when he saw Lilith had taken his favourite spot on their bed. 

"I'm sorry, my dear Cthulhu, but it appears your less furry sister has claimed her spot on our bed." Rose chuckled, petting him all the way to the tip of his white tail as he jumped off the bed, meowing in irritation. 

The night didn't sail smoothly following Cthulhu's visit, however. Rose only got an hour of sleep, before Lilith wailed and wriggled between them, requiring her mothers care. 

Rose groaned, shifting up onto her elbow, and carefully observing as Lilith tried rolling around. 

"Come here, Lily." Rose murmured, sliding her arms around her daughter and leisurely bringing her close, cradling her with tender movements, in hopes that it'd calm Lilith down. 

But it didn't work a scant! Lilith started balling with every power of her voice, clutching onto Rose's black shirt and tugging at it. It was a surprise Kanaya managed to still slumber; though, Rose was always a light sleeper, one little creak and her eyelids would fly up. This only made Rose stressful, growing increasingly worried at her daughter's sobbing that didn't seem to want to slow down, like she was in horrible pain and there was nothing Rose could do to fix it.

Suddenly, Lilith's cries halted, making Rose's palms sweat as she anticipated the reason why tears hung at the corners of her eyes. The hybrid emitted a gurgling sound, causing Rose to stare quizzically, and without a clear warning, vomit flew out of Lilith's mouth, landing squarely on the the purple colored letters of her signature lovingly sewed on her shirt.

Rose cringed, holding Lilith at a distance as she sucked in a sharp breath, gagging internally at the sight of baby bile sticking to her favourite shirt. 

She didn't how she was going to remove her shirt without the vomit touching her skin; it made her shudder as goosebumps crawled on her skin. 

Rose turned her purple gaze up at Lilith, a bit of blots of the rotten waste stayed on her chin, tears noticeably beginning to pile up. 

"Lily, it's okay, you're okay," Rose hurried, trying to comfort her after retching for the first time and grabbing the end of her shirt and wiping away the streaks. Her shirt was already ruined and drenched in throw up, anyways. "You're going to be okay, Lilith. It's uncomfortable and disgusting, yes, but it's normal."

Lilith squirmed in her hands, flailing her arms around, locks of her black hair gluing to her forehead from sweat. Her loud chirps and sobs eventually stirred Kanaya, the jadeblood moaning as she lazily sat up, rubbing her eyes before they worked properly. 

"Lilith, what..." Kanaya paled, spotting the bile splattered on Rose's chest. "Dear god, what happened?"

"Lilith threw up." Rose reported, grimacing when her eyes drifted off to the mess. Kanaya gasped, quickly prying Lilith away from her mother and holding her tight, cooing lightly. 

"Oh, my poor darling," Kanaya crooned, letting her cowlick caress Lilith's cheek as she swiped her slender hand down the hybrid's silky hair. 

Lilith let out a chorus of 'mamamama', making Rose develop a jealous nerve, due to Lilith wanting to be in Kanaya's hold. It was quickly shafted, though, as a burping akin noise retched from Lilith, both Rose and Kanaya's stomach dropped. 

"Lilith, shhh, no more crying," Kanaya soothed, massaging her troll pointed ears. "If you stop crying profusely, you'll stop being nauseated."

"I think we have some medicine stored, we can give her that." Rose said, pulling at her shirt, carefully slipping it off in the most awkward pattern, revealing her violet tank top. 

"I suppose that'll help remedy for now," Kanaya sighed, handing Lilith over to Rose, picking up her wife's dirtied shirt with her thumb and pointer finger pinching it. "I'll put this wash, meanwhile you can give her the medicine."

Rose nodded, the couple both rising from bed but going separate ways. Lilith laid her tiny head on Rose's shoulder, the blonde sighing through her nose and tickling her fringe. 

"Oh, Lilith." Rose whispered, planting a kiss against the hybrid's fiery forehead. 

Entering the dining area and scavenging for the cherry flavored liquid, she retrieved it from the pantry, tenderly settling Lilith on the counter before grabbing a small spoon, one that's usually for when they stir their tea. Tonight was an exception, though, Lilith certainly wouldn't handle gulping the medicine from a spoon too large for her mouth; which just meant she'd have to take three sips of it from a tiny spoon instead.

Pouring the cherry red medicine onto the spoon, she carefully observed as she swished it along to Lilith, positioning it at the hybrid's mouth. 

"Open your mouth, little love," Rose said, frowning when Lilith shook her head. 

"It'll make you feel better, Lilith." 

The hybrid made a series of unsure noises, whimpering shortly before the spoon forcefully went into her mouth. The strong aftertaste hit Lilith immediately, gagging and darting her tongue out. 

Rose giggled, serving another tablespoon and hovering it near her mouth. "Just two more, Lilith."

Lilith crossed her arms, puffing her light gray chubby cheeks and turning her head away. 

"Oh, no you don't little missy." Rose caught her chin, opening up her mouth to showcase her gummy maw, white little things sprouting at the back of her mouth. She made Lilith slurp the cherry medicine by force once more, making the hybrid growl; it was anything but intimidating, small sounding and cute, like hearing a puppy's growl as it plays tug-of-war with your slipper. 

"One more spoon and it's done, you'll soon feel better by tomorrow morning, hopefully." Rose said ideally, pouring the red liquid onto the spoon. As she moved the spoon towards Lilith, by her surprise, the hybrid hurriedly drank it down, holding onto the silver handle and hastily pulling away. 

Lilith emitted a 'bleh', showing Rose just how appalled she was from the taste of the medicine. Rose simply giggled, putting away the cherry medicine and throwing the spoon into the sink, later to be washed. 

"Yeah, bleh," Rose parroted, smooching her forehead. "You should be feeling lucky, Lilith, my mother would make me swallow pills that were a little too big for my throat." 

The sound of steps echoed throughout the house, alerting Rose and Lilith of Kanaya's presence. 

As before, Lilith squealed a series of jumbled 'mama's. Kanaya smiled at her daughter's ecstatic attitude, swooping her up into her arms, and leaving a kiss mark on her temple. 

"I see you're feeling better again, starlight?" Kanaya murmured, earning Lilith to nuzzle up against her. 

Feeling arms suddenly wrapping around her waist, Kanaya glanced down over her shoulder, Rose smirking with such charming senses. There was never a time where Rose failed to sweep her off her feet with just one look that harbored adoration.

Kanaya snickered, purring quite loudly and rhythmically when Rose laid her head on her shoulder, her breath tickling her neck. Kanaya sighed contently, kissing her wife chastely on her cheek, a smile plying on Rose's lips as she dug her nose into the crook of her beloved jadeblood's neck.

[canaryatlaw]

okay, so today was a train wreck. to fully explain, as my day post technically begins right after I write the one from the previous day, I have to start at 3:45 am last night/morning. I think I mentioned that I had a very slight cough after a few days of sore throat and congestion, but I didn’t think anything would come of it. I fell asleep at some point after 12, I don’t remember exactly, but when I woke up briefly at 3:45 am I was in a very different state, and it was immediately apparent to me that I was going to be having an asthmatic bronchitis episode today. Dammit. Not only is it super annoying and painful to be coughing up my lungs all day, but because it’s not a very common condition getting the medicine to treat it can be a big hassle (see the last episode in April 2017 when the urgent care and two doctors offices dismissed me before I finally found one who was actually willing to listen to me and help). Well, not much I could do about it at 3:45 am, so I tried to fall asleep, which I did eventually, but it took a while. I honestly don’t remember when I woke up, I wanna say some time after 10. My cough situation was the same and at this point I’ve had like 6 episodes of this happen, so I know right away what’s going on. Now, the tricky part was going to be getting to a doctor because guess what, it’s Saturday, and getting sick on Saturday is super inconvenient (and as mentioned above, I’ve attempted walk in clinics and they refused to listen to me). I did have a bit of a choice to make, whether I wanted to call my pulmonologist back in NY or if I wanted to call the doctor out here that ended up helping my last episode. They have very different approaches and thoughts on what’s causing it, but they’ve both been able to successfully treat it, so it’s hard to tell. I did reconnect with my NY doctor after the last episode and I’ve seen him several times since then, most recently in December I think, where the doctor out here I haven’t seen in about a year or so. I ended up deciding on the NY doctor mostly because I thought it was more likely that I would be able to reach someone from that office because they are pretty large and well-established I felt like it was more likely they’d have some coverage as opposed to a single practitioner who was probably not in on the weekend. So I call, get the office is closed message, but if it’s an “urgent medical issue” (but not an actual emergency, because they already said if it’s that hang up and call 911) stay on the line and get transferred to their answering service who can get messages to the on call doctor. So I talked to the lady and she took down the info, and said I should get a call back from a doctor shortly. Alright, sounds good, I guess I’ll do some bar prep while I’m waiting, so I did that while awaiting the call, but it didn’t come, and around 3 it was like, 4 hours after I called, so I felt like it was reasonable to call back at this point. So I did, there were some issues with the message getting passed along, they said they’d try again but if I heard nothing don’t wait so long to call back. So when another hour past with no call I called back yet again (I have to be the most annoying phone caller over all the ones I’ve done over the past week) and the lady said she’d pass it on to her supervisor to expedite the request and I was like OH THANK GOD at this point, lol. So I think some time around 4:30 I got the call from the on call doctor. I explained to him that my doctor has been treating me for asthmatic bronchitis since my original episode in March 2013, and there have been about 5 or 6 reoccurrences since then, but if I get the meds I can control it fairly quickly. Fortunately he was able to view all my medical info and what my doctor had previously prescribed, and he believed me, which is always big lol and he called in several prescriptions for me, prednisone along with an inhaler and a recommendation to get some OTC allergy meds. He was like “are you on something regular for your asthma?” and I was just like oh boy this is not a good time to go down that rabbit hole so I was just like “I don’t get normal symptoms, just this” which he seemed to accept as an answer lol. So he called it in, and I pretty much immediately headed over to Target. It was only at this point that I called my parents to let them know what was going on but I had it totally handled and they didn't need to worry about anything, because they flipped the fuck out last time this happened and it was super unhelpful honestly! So I was basically just like “yeah I’m having an episode but I already got the meds called in and I’m going to pick them up now so you don’t have to do anything and have nothing to worry about” lol, so I’d say that was pretty successful. I still felt like shit and didn’t want to walk so I ubered over, and actually stopped at a beauty supply right down the street because I need to cut a wig I got for a cosplay I’m gonna do coming up soon and needed some supplies. The store was super ghetto, which I mostly expected because I know it’s not a super great part of town, but there are no Sally’s near me at all so I’d have to go really out of my way to go there. I had a list of a few things, but I ended up only getting some hair cutting scissors, only to find out they were actually thinning scissors, which will actually be helpful with this style but not for normal cutting purposes, lol. Oh well. So I headed over to Target and went to check in on the prescriptions and to my surprise they had already filled them, so I got those and then did a short grocery run based on a few things I’d written down, more or less my weekly groceries, pretzels and fruit and lemonade, and some snacks. So that didn’t take long, I checked out and ubered back home because again still felt shitty. Got home, unpacked my groceries, then checked out the medicines. There were 3, the prednisone, an inhaler, and some albuterol but it was in the form that you would need a nebulizer to access it and I don’t have one of those, so we’ll see how I’m feeling and if necessary I’ll call on Monday and see if I can get it in inhaler form (or get a nebulizer). So I took the meds, then did some bar prep before trying to prepare to cut the wig. I had a youtube tutorial of the exactly style I was doing so I figured it couldn’t be that bad?? But like every artistic pursuit I’ve ever undertaken I’ve vastly overestimated my ability to do anything that involved even the smallest amount of creative talent. welp. One of the big issues was I didn’t have wig head to put it on which is pretty essential, so I ended up balancing it on an upside down (empty) apple juice bottle, but it kept slipping out of place. I tried to just cut most of the ends off because it was super long and the look I’m doing is pretty short, but of course it still came out super choppy and like, that’s kind of okay because it’s supposed to be kind of choppy but like, in a way that looks good, not like this lol. I was worried about cutting it too short, and there were definitely a few pieces that were, but for the most part they were good. The next step though was the layering and I couldn’t get the wig to stay in place on the bottle, so after many attempts I finally said fuck it because there was no way I could get it down like this. So I guess that project is on hold until I can get something (hopefully a wig head) that I can pin the wig to so I can cut it without it moving. So with that no longer an option I headed back to my con law lecture which was of course 4 hours long, so that took up the rest of my night of course. I object to them scheduling long lectures for the weekend, but it’s not like I can do anything about it. Tomorrow’s schedule is probably going to be an issue, because they have two 4 hour lectures and I have church, and by the time I get home it’s like 3 pm, so that would be a LOT. but we’ll see. I’ll see how I’m doing in the morning. I hope I’m doing better, I kind of pulled in the rationale of the other doctor I saw last year since he treated it by increasing my acid reflux meds, so I grabbed some OTC ones I had and added them to my pill box (I’m not gonna overdose on a fucking antacid, calm down) so maybe that will help because it did the trick pretty quickly last year. I’m supposed to be in the nursery and like, obviously this is an issue with my body, not something that would be contagious but like, I’m still going to feel bad if I’m holding a small child and coughing, I mean I don’t think I’d want a coughing nursery worker holding my kid, so if it’s bad I might have to bail on them, but idk how many people are signed up. So we’ll have to see how that goes. I just remembered how when this coughing happened last year there were numerous strangers that offered my cough drops just based on hearing me cough in public. And like, I had cough drops in my purse, but I just thought it was such a sweet and compassionate gesture, and it really touched me. That will always be a happy memory of Chicago for me, if I end up staying or not- Chicago has always taken care of its own. Alright, it’s 1:30 am, I gotta wake up early for church, so I’m getting off of here now. Goodnight dearies. Hope you had a kickass Saturday (and definitely were not sick). 

[toosicktoocare]

“If you’re not better by tomorrow, we’re going to the hospital.” Sick Lance?

Hope you like it, anon! :)

“If you’re not better by tomorrow, we’re going to the hospital.”

Lance stared at Shiro with wide, panicked eyes. He couldn’t go to the hospital. People never came back when they went to the hospital. His mom never came back when she went to the hospital.

“I can’t,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He knew he was getting bad. He thought he had just gotten a bad chest cold, but he kept getting worse despite being ordered to constant bed rest by his suite-mates. He couldn’t go five minutes without being wracked by painful coughing fits that had his lungs rattling in his chest, and he’s been sporting a fever over 102 degrees for two days now. He knew his friends were just worried, but he absolutely could not go to the hospital.

“Lance, buddy,” Hunk started, voice soft and reassuring. “I know you don’t like hospitals, but you’re really sick.”

“I’m,” Lance started, turning to cough into the crook of his arm. “I’m okay.”

“Lance, we are just worried about you,” Shiro said, dropping a hand against Lance’s trembling shoulder. “We wouldn’t make you go if we didn’t think you needed to.”

Lance could feel a pit of panic swelling within his stomach, and his chest felt incredibly tight. He was struggling to get air into his lungs, and he started shaking slightly. “I’ll get better,” he tried, desperate for his friends to believe him.

“That’s all we want,” Shiro said gently. “We hate seeing you like this.”

“I’ll get better,” Lance repeated. He had to get better. He would take the medicine Pidge left for him and sleep. And when he woke up tomorrow, he would be better. Enough was enough. He had to get better.

“Okay, buddy,” Shiro said, squeezing Lance’s shoulder. “We will see how you feel in the morning.”

“Night, Lance,” Hunk added with a soft smile.

Lance waved weakly as the two cut the lights out and left the room. As soon as he was sure no one else was coming in, he broke down, curling in on himself as tears slid down his cheeks. He didn’t want to go to the hospital– he couldn’t. He still had so much he wanted to do in his life. It wasn’t his time.

He spent the next fifteen minutes in a fit of crying and coughing until he exhausted himself. He just barely had the energy to swallow the pills Pidge left for him before he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

*****

Lance’s eyes flew open. He shifted his gaze to the clock, frowning at the red numbers reading 4:04 a.m. glowing at him. What in the fuck woke him up at this ungodly hour? He went to take a deep breath in and realized he couldn’t. Oh.

He shot upward into a sitting position, coughing and coughing and coughing. He couldn’t stop. His fingers curled tightly around his blanket as he struggled to breathe. His entire body felt hot– hotter than he’s ever felt. Sweat was sliding uncomfortably down the back of his neck, soaking the collar of his night shirt. Despite this, he was shaking hard. He couldn’t stop; he was shaking and coughing, and his eyes were watering. He needed help.

Suddenly, his door cracked open, revealing a very disheveled Pidge. “Lance?” She called out, voice thick with sleep. She flicked the lights on, and her eyes went wide. “Fuck.”

Lance clutched at his chest, wheezing and coughing. He shot Pidge a panicked look, and she nodded in reply before racing out of the room, coming back only moments later with Shiro, Hunk, and Keith hot on her heels.

Shiro was at his side in seconds, and Lance reached out, gripping the older boy’s arm tightly. “Can’t,” he rasped out, gesturing to his chest with his free hand.

Shiro nodded, acting fast. He scooped Lance up bridal style, and everyone else quickly followed him to the car.

“W-wait,” Lance tried, grabbing weakly at Shiro’s shirt. He could see everyone talking around him, but their voices sounded muffled. He felt like he was under water, sinking to the bottom of an ocean with waves rushing all around him. His vision was starting to blur. “N-no hospital,” he called out weakly before everything went black.

*****

Lance came to with a groan, and that was clearly a mistake because it instantly irritated his pained throat. He shot upwards, coughing harshly into his fist. He could feel hands rubbing at his back, and someone was talking to him. But, he couldn’t process the words. He was too focused on how badly his chest and throat hurt.

But, after what felt like years, he managed to catch his breath, slumping back against his pillows. He blinked tiredly at his friends staring at him with varying looks of concern, and then it hit him.

“F-fuck,” he breathed out, shooting upwards as his eyes darted wildly around the hospital room. His stomach started to twist into knots while his heart began to hammer against his chest. An uncomfortable feeling of heat began to prickle across his skin, and his breaths started to come out in short, choppy gasps.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” Shiro tried, grabbing one of Lance’s hands in both of his. “Keith, go get the nurse.”

Lance watched as Keith raced out of the room. He wanted to go with him. Why did Keith get to leave? It wasn’t fair; he was going to die.

Keith returned moments later with a nurse, and Lance’s eyes went wide when she came towards him. “No,” he cried out, jerking away from her hands.

“It’s a panic attack,” Hunk supplied, and the nurse nodded, fiddling with the Lance’s IV.

Suddenly, Lance could feel his eyelids growing heavy. This was it; she was killing him. He tried desperately to fight it, but he couldn’t win. He fell back against the pillows as everything went dark.

*****

When Lance came to the second time, his chest and throat felt significantly better. Nowhere near how they should feel, but compared to how they’ve been feeling, he would take it. He slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light, and then he remembered.

“Lance?”

He snapped his gaze towards the quiet voice. Shiro was sitting in a chair beside his bed, grasping his hand tightly.

“Are you with me?”

Lance nodded quickly, not trusting his voice because his throat felt tight.

“I want you to listen to me, okay?”

Shiro’s voice was so calm and reassuring, and Lance found himself focusing solely on his older friend. He nodded once more.

“You’re in the hospital. You’ve got pneumonia. But, you’re going to be just fine, and we,” Shiro paused, gesturing towards Hunk, Pidge and Keith, “are all going to be right here with you the entire time.”

Lance shifted his gaze to each of his friends, who were all nodding and smiling at him. “I’m not going to die?” He asked weakly.

“Of course not,” Hunk said, easing himself down at the end of Lance’s hospital bed and patting Lance’s covered leg.

“Yeah, don’t be an idiot,” Pidge said with a light laugh before climbing onto Lance’s bed, curling herself around his trembling form.

“You’ll be fine,” Keith said from his place against the wall beside Lance’s bed.

Lance looked towards each of his friends with watering eyes. “Really?” He whispered, swiping the back of his hand across his eyes.

“Really.” Shiro confirmed, squeezing Lance’s hand.

Lance sniffed, tears freely sliding down his cheeks. He was still terrified; he still wanted to get out as soon as possible, but he had his friends here. His friends would make sure that he would get out. They would make sure that he would be okay.

“Okay,” Lance breathed out. “Thank you,” he added, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Anytime,” Shiro said with a gentle smile.

[im-abanana]

Trolls fanfiction: “Light Blue Sky, Pink Bright Flower” [5/5]

I finished it. I finished it! Man, this was a VERY LONG chapter, but I did it! :D Well, as you can see this is the last chapter of this story, I hope you liked it. From now on, I’ll work on Caged Hearts (I’m writing the next chapter in these days) and on another fic based on an AU (not mine, I’ll tell you when the first chapter is ready). 

Little note: I accept requests from now on, if you’d like (Fluff, Angst, Smut, Romance, Adventure, everything!) and if you enjoy my writing, I would be happy to accept your requests (to “train” my English and have fun). But hey, if you don’t wanna, I guess I’ll focus just on those two fics! Bye, and enjoy this last chapter!

Warning: Smut in this chapter (r18)! 

[Chapter 5]:

Darkness. Pain. Noises. Strange odors. Cold. All those annoying and unpleasant things greeted Branch when he woke up from what he believed was just an horrible, neverending nightmare. “What happened...? Where am I...?” he thought with effort, rubbing his sweaty forehead with an hand, not feeling really well. “Ugh... I feel sick... I-I need to get a towel, a bucket or something like that.”.

But when he tried to get up from a strange and not-very-comfortable bed, a sharp pain in his waist made him growl loudly and lay down again, in pain. “Ouch, that hurt like hell!” he whined softly, looking at his now exposed, grey chest and seeing... “What!?”.

A scar. A big, red and fragmentary scar on his injured and aching hip. The survivalist, lost and confused, weakly looked around, trying to stay awake: gurneys, beds, medicines, bandages, sterilized items, a couple of nurses... “The infirmary, of course. They must have taken me here after the fight against that giant mantis. But... where are the others? Are the kids ok? Are the Trolls ok? Is Poppy ok-”.

“Branch...? Branch! Oh, thanks goodness, you're awake!” a familiar, secretly loved, yelling and happy female voice interrupted his worried thoughts, and a warm hand caressed his bigger one. Poppy was there, right next to him, with a very tired face and dark circles around her bright pink eyes. She was visibly tired. “Doctor! He's awake, come here!”.

“Yes, yes, I see that Princess Poppy. But please, please, keep it down! There are other patients here, and they need to rest too, just like your friend.” a serious and professional Troll walked next to the royal and loud girl, looking at Branch with illegible but kind eyes. “Hello Mr. Branch, I am the doctor who operated you. How are you feeling today?”.

“I... I'm pretty fine, I guess. I'm lucky to be alive, aren't I?” the grey boy replied, trying to look smug and cool, sitting on the bed and groaning out his frustration. “Ok, maybe I'm not totally fine: my hip hurts. A lot.”.

“Well, that's perfectly understandable, sir. The cut was very deep and yes, you're lucky, very lucky to be alive. But no need to worry, your life is safe now.” the doctor smiled, checking the fresh wound and the guy's body with a stethoscope, hearing his slow heartbeat. “Very good, very good, all normal. I'll give you a medicine, to ease the pain a little. Two times a day, after breakfast and after dinner.” he said, placing a vial full of pills on a night table. “Now lay down and rest, I'll see you again tomorrow morning at dawn.”.

“Wait, could I go to my bunker, instead? I'm feeling great, I just wanna go home now.” Branch asked with his grumpy tone, hopeful, shifting between the blankets and pillows. “Let me go, already... I need to collect more sticks and leaves for the winter, clean up my house, wash my clothes, have a shower and eat something because I'm starving...”.

“Absolutely not! You need to stay here for at least five days. You are very debilitate now, and going out in this condition is far too dangerous.” the expert refused, shaking his head and forcing Branch down again. “But the day after tomorrow you can try to stand and walk, with someone's help, of course. I'll ask the nurses.”.

“I'll help him, I wanna do it!” Poppy guaranteed with a little and excited sound, looking a bit childish, fixing her messy pink hair and yawing. “Yawn... I mean, can I?”.

“You can, Princess Poppy. But be very careful.” the doctor nodded, giving her his permission. “You should rest too, go home and get some sleep. You've been here for two days, never resting or stopping, and as you see your friend's fine now.”.

“Nah doc, I'll just sleep here, on the mattress you gave me. I deeply care about my subjects, no Troll left behind.” the royal female grinned with limitless energy, sitting on a poor, uncomfortable pallet and putting her pink and green pj on, covering herself with a blanket. “Thanks for everything doctor, and goodnight.”.

“Fine, but don't tire youself too much. Goodnigh Princess, goodnight Mr. Branch.” the man simply said, then he walked away, willing to take care of his other patients.

“You stayed here with me while I was sleeping, night and day, Poppy. Why?” Branch asked after a few moments of silence, looking at his Princess with incredulous blue eyes. “I mean, for two entire days? Without resting or stopping?”.

“Yeah, pretty sure I did. I do not look great right now, do I?” Poppy smiled with fatigue and exhaustion, rubbing her throbbing temples and sighing softly, her teary orbs semi-closed. “But don't mind me. And Branch, why are you asking me this? I care about you! After the surgery you... well, you didn't wake up. The doctor and I were afraid you were in coma, and he said you wouldn't wake up. I... was scared to lose you, to lose a subject that became a hero to everyone. You almost gave your life to save those children, and I'll never, never forget this. That's why I stayed.”.

“... I'm not a hero. I did what was right.” the survivalist said weakly, gripping the Princess' smaller hand a little tighter, touched by her sweet and caring words. “But you should keep the kids away from the forest. It's far too dangerous. I'll set traps this winter, to push away the predators. But I can't do all the job, you know.”.

“We'll be more careful from now on, I promise. I had a discussion with my dad about this, and we'll take action as soon as possible.” the pink female assured, laying down on her “bed” and smiling for the last time, too tired to keep speaking. “Now let's sleep a little, tomorrow will be a very long day for both of us.”.

“Yeah, we should, you're right.” the grey male agreed, covering himself with his blanket and laying his heavy head down, on the pillows. “And Poppy, thanks again. I really appreciated what you did for me.”.

The royal and always happy Troll, with her beautiful and bright eyes shut and before finally falling asleep, replied with a soft tone: “Don't mention it, Branch. Goodnight.”.

…

“Woah, woah, woah! Easy there, and don't even think about running!”; two days after that night, Branch was driving the Princess crazy, trying to stand up too quickly or to walk around the infiermery for too long. “Branch! Sit down for a moment and breathe, you're gonna tire yourself too much! Your wound is still fresh, stay still for a moment!”.

“I told you, I feel great! I just wanna move my legs a little, preferable without those bothering crutches. I can do it, trust me.” the proud survivalist told her, crossing his strong arms and refusing her advices. “I know my body better than you do.”.

“No, you can't. And now use those crutches, or I'll make you!” Poppy threatened the grey and dull male, helping him and supporting his hefty form with her arms. “Ugh... and Branch, you really should start dieting. You're crushing me with your fat belly!” she joked then, chuckling and snickering loudly.

“Umpf! It's not fat, it's muscle. You should train your body and hair, instead!” Branch defended himself, grumpy and offended, looking away and pouting. “I'm not fat.”.

“Pff, muscle, sure, sure.” the royal girl rolled her pink eyes, amused and resigned, breathing the fresh, morning air and smelling the flowers. “Ahh, I love playing outside in the grass! When you'll be able to run and stand by your own, come and play with me and the others! It's very fun, and the kids you saved will be there with us, too!”.

“No, Poppy. I'll pass, thank you.” he refused right away, shaking his head and huffing, a little weary. “This accident was enough, I almost died, so no playing outside and risking my life for me.”.

“Oh okay, if you don't want to I understand. After all you risked a lot, indeed.” Poppy replied, deep in thought, focusing on a colorful butterfly that was flying right in front of them. She smiled after a few seconds, following the insect's movements with her excited eyes: “But don't think I'll give up on you! Next time, maybe...”.

…

Four days after the delicate surgery, Branch had an unexpected and rather unpleasant surprise: a visit. Their visit. “Mr. Branch, mr. Branch!”.

“Oh, no. Poppy, tell me you didn't invite them.” Branch pleaded, shocked, looking at his spiteful and satisfied companion with praying light blue eyes. “Please, I'll do anything, just please-”.

“Ok kids, let's give a big hug to our beloved Branch! But be careful, he has a big scar on his hip now, go easy!” the Princess proposed, letting her noisy and curious class in. “And hush, keep it down, there are some other patients and they all need to rest!”.

“Hello mr. Branch! How are you?” a little, orange and green girl asked with a sweet voice, crawling on the survivalist's bed and sitting right next to him. “Did it hurt when the mantis hit you? Were you scared?”.

“Oh, oh, mr. Branch, Princess Poppy told us you have a big scar on your belly! Can I see it? Can I touch it?” a yellow and red boy begged, jumping happily and excitedly in front of the grey male.

“Thanks for saving me from that giant monster, mr. Branch! You are my hero!” the little girl he saved jumped on his lap, hugging him tightly. “When I grow up, I wanna be brave and strong, just like you!”.

“Poppy, please, help me... take them back, you know I hate kids!” Branch whined softly, trembling and seeing annoying and nosy children running and screaming everywhere. “You're doing this on pourpose! They surrounded me, please, control your class... Poppy, I'm begging you!”.

“Eheh, sorry Branch, not this time.” Poppy just laughed, swinging her elengant hips jokingly and shrugging her smaller shoulders. “I see that you guys are having a lot of fun together! Well, now I really need to go, I'll be back in an hour or so. Have fun in the meanwhile, Branch!” the royal girl said goodbye to everyone, exiting the infiermery and jumping happily outside.

“Poppy, no! Get back here, right now! This is not funny! Poppy, I know you can hear me, so get back! Poppy! Poppy! POPPY!!! HEEEEEELP!!!”.

…

“Well mr. Branch, I'm really glad to say that you are fully recovered and ready to go home.” the doctor smiled warmly, offering his gentle and kind hand to the survivalist, who had a strange and unusual smile on his grey face. “Just remember: don't run, don't tire yourself too much, take your medicine, drink a lot of water and eat healty food. Oh, and you should start dieting: you're overweight, so try to eat less meat and more vegetables.”.

“PFFF!” Poppy snickered loudly, covering her mouth with and arm to contain her increasing laughing. “PFFF... Told you it was fat, Branch.” she whispered in the tough male's pointy ear.

“Umpf...” the dull and boring Troll growled out loud, ignoring her stupid comments and shaking the expert's hand. “Thank you very much doctor, I... will take care of myself.”.

“I know you will, or at least I hope you will. Well, have a nice day... or evening, both of you.” the professional man said, nodding, turning his back and heading towards an injured Troll. “Bye.”.

“... Eh, I guess it's over, you can finally return to you hidden bunker, safe and sound and free as the wind!” Poppy shouted after a moment of silence, punching Branch's right shoulder with energy and content. “It wasn't so bad, was it?”.

“I survived, I can't say that I liked it... especially the kid's part. That was a nightmare, I couldn't sleep or even breathe because of you and them.” the grey and dull boy replied without emotion, rubbing his now slightly aching shoulder. “And control your energy! You punched me.”.

“Aaaanyway, I need to ask you something.” the Princess suddenly became serious, strangely serious, and that worried Branch a little. “Come with me, to my pod. I think we need to... talk. About that night. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.”.

“Y-yes. I think I know what you're talking about, and this time you're right.” the survivalist blushed heavily and sighed, remembering what happened between them just a few nights before, rubbing his sweaty nape and neck. “We need to talk.”.

…

“T-to talk, uh? Well, that's an interesting way t-to have a chat.” the grey survivalist moaned, now fully naked and looking at the girl seated on his lap with lust and desire. “You are a liar, Princess of the Trolls. And a greedy person, shame on you.”.

“I didn't lie, I really wanted to talk! It happened and, in my defense, you are loving it.” she licked the back of his ears slowly, savouring the moment and his strong smell, then she started to gently grind against the male's crotch, willing to start their intercouse. “Less talking, more action.”.

“Ehh, just wait a second, Poppy.” Branch gently stopped her, holding his own, injured hip as he sat down on the bed, right in front of her naked and beautiful female body. “You know, having a fresh wound doesn't help me, it still hurts a bit. We need to find a good position that allows me to... uh, how can I say that...? You know, thrust without damaging my hip more.”.

“Oh, yes, yes, of course. I get it, we'll be very careful in that case, no worries.” Poppy just smiled with a lot of self-confidence, looking at the red scar with slight sadness and concern in her bright eyes. She used her right index finger to caress its lenght with consideration, sighing as she did so. “What if I ride you? Would that be okay?”.

“No. I don't think so, you'd crush me or you'd scrape your thighs against the wound, I don't wanna risk. Also, I don't think missionary could work, my pelvis is not strong enough right now.” the grey Troll shook his head, thinking about it with attention and rubbing his chin. Suddenly, an interesting idea came to his sly and always-prepared mind. “I've got an idea, I'm sure it will work. Have you ever heard about spooning?” he asked then, blushing a lot and looking away, too embarrassed.

“Umh, no. Not really, but it seems intriguing.” the excited Princess answered sincerely, rubbing her sweaty nape and neck. Her delicate form was shiny right now, her hot and intoxicating sweat covered her fluffy skin and her body was aching with anticipation and need. “What is it?”.

“Well... It's a sexual position, I read it's very good for a slow and caring round.” the survivalist explained professionally, his ears droopy and his expression embarassed and kinda uncomfortable. What an awkward situation, man... The boy cleared his throat before speaking again: “You... you should lie on one side with knees bent while I lie with my front pressed against your back: that way I could thrust slowly and kindly inside of you, and I could also stimulate your breasts and clit with ease, and... well, we could even cuddle during the whole process, if you'd like.”.

Princess Poppy remained silent for a few seconds, seeming a bit stunned by the informations, then she smiled widely and hugged her partner tightly, happy and content. “Yes Branch, totally! Why are you asking!? Come on, I love to cuddle!” she nodded with great joy, caressing his tough and muscular body with her soft and skilled hands. “Very well, we have a deal and a perfect plan! So, shall we? I'm more than ready down there.” she proposed, laying on the soft bed and lifting one leg with grace, showing him her most intimate and wet part, tempting him with a lustful grin. “Come on, inside of me! I... I can't wait much longer, please...”.

Branch licked his dry lips and joined the excited future Queen in a blink, spooning her and taking hold of his hard member, getting it in position and rubbing it against her moist slit for a moment, making her mewl and moan against his chest. Gorgeous. Then, with a fast and maybe too rough movement of his hips, he sank into her warmth completely.

“Ow! That hurt!” Poppy groaned loudly with her pink eyes open wide and teary, feeling a shock of pain in her groin area (and especially in her now very sensitive womanhood), and she kicked the survivalist's legs on instinct, trying to push him away. “B-Branch, ouch! Easy there, not so fast! You hurt me, be a bit more gentle!”.

“Oh gosh Poppy, I'm so sorry! Sorry, sorry, I should have had more control over my body! I didn't mean this.” he immediately apologized, pulling out just a little and nuzzling her neck and cheeks in a kind and worried way, sometimes kissing them. “Did I hurt you that bad? Do you want me to stop? I can pull out if you need me to.”.

“No, no, no, everything is ok. That doesn't even hurt anymore, don't worry, probably I was just scared or tense.” the royal Princess reassured the grey and grumpy Troll, sighing and tilting her head back to look the boy in his light blue eyes. “You know, it's just... that took me by surprise and you're well-endowed down there, so please, please, go a little bit slower...” Poppy requested with a comforting wink, pushing her pelvis against the survivalist's, taking him inside herself one more time at a lazy pace and with an high but muffled moan. “There you go, see? I'm totally fine. Now you can start to thrust and move, if you want.”.

“No, I'll let you adjust, you need to. And I also want to make it up to you, in the meanwhile.” Branch replied with an alluring whisper, getting closer to the Princess' warm form and using one hand to brush her wet and slightly hairy female opening, searching for her sensitive and hidden nub. “This will help you.” the young male added, kissing her cheek softly and starting to draw circles around her now visible clit, sometimes thrusting towards it with his soaked fingers.

“Y-yes... Branch, faster with your h-hand...” the royal and always happy girl lifted her slim leg more, exposing herself without modesty or decorum (what a Princess, the dark guy thought...), moaning loudly and grinding her slim hips against the very welcomed touch, with her eyes shut and a very satisfied smile on her face. “C-come on, what are you waiting for!? Thrust already! I'm ready, just start moving!”.

The dull and pretty injured survivalist rolled his light blue orbs and just smiled and laughed inside: unbeliavable, she really was a greedy one! “Eager tonight, aren't you? Shouldn't you be a calm and restrained Princess, all cupcakes and rainbows?”.

“Not with t-the entertaining things, like singing, hugging and dancing.” Poppy replied with a loud huff and a low groan, licking her lips and resting her head against her partner's fluffy chest. “And I am enjoying this so, so much. And I would enjoy this even more if you just gave me some action right now, please. You're moving like a glacier.”.

“Alright, alright, jeez you won! You're so impatient....” Branch snuggled against her nape, licking it to taste her strong smell, and caressed her slender belly with his other, callous and bigger hand, positioning himself in a more comfortable spot, between the pink and blue pillows. “... as always, after all.” he concluded, grinning, thrusting himself deeper inside of her warmth with a growl and then, after a few seconds, he started to kindly move, rocking his aching pelvis as she requested.

“Mhh finally, a-about time...” the Princess rejoiced, instantaneously gripping the male's grey and muscular arm tightly, to support herself and trying to suppress her increasing moans of pleasure. Branch's underground bunker was isolated and soundproof, there you could make all the noises you wanted, but her elegant, pink pod was in the middle of the tree, right next to her father's, so they had to be very, very quiet and fast this time. “That's what I was talking about, B-Branch. D-don't stop!”.

“I'm not g-gonna stop, don't worry. Just relax.” he reassured the pink female, cuddling her thorax, waist, forearms and thighs with great care, love and affection, caressing every inch of her soft, perfect and scented skin under his incredibly gentle touch. The survivalist suddenly felt her writhing in his arms, a pair of beautiful pink eyes locked into his light blue ones: then, without any type of forewarn, he felt the Princess' sweet lips pressed against his, to steal a tender, long and grateful kiss.

“How could you do this!? Have you lost your mind, with Branch? Poppy, why are you always trying to help him? He's never gonna change! Why can't you see that?” in Poppy's blurred mind Satin and Chenille's harsh words echoed, assertive and cold. Her friends sharp and surprised gazes paralized her form, judging her silently. “Did you give him your consent? Or... gosh, did he rape you, sweetie!?”.

“Rape me!? No! I was consenting guys, he did not hurt me!” the Princess shook her head with firmness and fear, defending the grey and dark survivalist while moving backwards, stressed. “Branch would never do that! And he's not as bad as you all think. Maybe last night was a mistake, I admit it. A terrible, unforgivable mistake that I can't justify. But he's not bad at all, if you just tried to know him-!”.

“You slept with that... that mad freak! I can't believe this, I can't believe you!” Chenille opened her charming and violet eyes wide, disgusted and horrified. “Pff! I bet he behaved like a savage animal during the night, didn't he? Gross, look at that neck bite he gave you... and those livids and hickeys! Oh Poppy, you poor thing, let's just forget this, we'll keep him far away from you, he won't hurt you again.”.

“Yeah, we'll keep you safe. He won't bother you, I promise.” Guy Diamond patted the Princess' back gently, trying to comfort her. “Or Smidge will punch him right in his big nose!”.

“Yeah, of course! In the nose, in the face, everywhere you want!” the little but really strong yellow Troll happily agreed, cracking her knuckles, looking scary and intimidating to everyone. “You bet, I'll make him regret the day he was born!”.

“Guys, you're not listening to me! You just need to know him a bit more, that's all, and you'll find out-” Poppy tried to say to them, a bit broken and sad because of their careless words and selfish promises (after all, they wanted to exclude Branch without even speaking to him or trying to clarify the situation), but without success: her friends started to walk away, yelling “Come on, Poppy! Let's just forget this and let's go dancing with the others, you'll feel better!” really loudly. “... You'll find out he's a great and sweet Troll...” the pink royal Princess whispered and sighed, sitting on the wet and cold grass, looking down.

“... Poppy.” a familiar and sympathetic voice called the distracted female, alerting her. It was Suki. “I've listened to you, unlike the others. And I have one question for you.” the talented dj told her with a small smile, sitting with her on the ground. “Did you enjoy it?”.

“Excuse me!? Are you asking me if I liked it?” the always-happy girl blushed visibly, literally jumping in the air and sweating, rubbing her nape. “W-why are you asking me this? It's embarassing and private!”.

“Ahah! It's not a stupid question, just a bit nosy! And sorry, but I really want to know and I think you owe me an explanation.” the red Troll laughed, trying to calm her agitated friend with a kind tone and a grin. “Even if I think your reaction it's the answer I was looking for, I wanna hear the sincere answer from your lips: did you enjoy having sex with Branch? You can trust me, it's ok, I won't tell anyone. Especially your father or Creek.”.

“... I know I can trust you, my friend. And it's true, I owe you an explanation. The answer is yes. Yes, I did enjoy that, I can't deny it. And I don't regret what we did.” Poppy admitted, still a little embarassed, sitting next to her silent and pensive friend once again. The musician didn't say anything, she just looked around and furrowed her eyebrows. “... Ooook, this is getting kinda awkward, Suki. Why aren't you speaking? Did I say something wrong? Didn't you expect this kind of answer?”.

“Oh, no, no, no, it's nothing important. I just...” Suki merrily shrugged her shoulders, chuckling and looking at the Princess with her magenta orbs, full off care for her royal best friend. “I just noticed the light in your eyes when you were talking about him. You're my best friend, and I know you. And I also know that look, Poppy.” the dj conclued, standing up and stretching her numb muscles lazily, groaning a little. “Well, we better join our group now, or they'll worry. Are you coming?”.

“Y-yeah, of course, I'm coming.” the royal female nodded quickly, confused and lost, walking towards her good friend in a blink, still thinking about their earlier discourse. The light in her eyes. That look. What was Suki talking about?

Her memories were abruptly interrupted by a pretty strong movement of Branch's hips, that made her mewl and grip the clean sheets in her smaller hands. “B-Branch, I'm very close, g-go faster!” the pink girl informed her “busy” partner, panting and trying to hold her climax in, just for a few moments. “I-I'm gonna-... I'm gonna-...!” Poppy moaned louder this time, shutting her tired and teary eyes and rocking her pelvis back instinctively, meeting Branch halfway and taking him deeper.

“Do it, and d-don't try to hold back.” the grey survivalist whispered, kissing her right temple and feeling her legs shaking against his now scarred waist: she was clearly ready, and he was ready as well. “C-coming!” he finally said, giving the last, strong and passionate pushes with his hard organ, feeling his high rapidly approaching.

When she reached her yearned peak, the Princess felt her damp, inner walls contracting around the male's dripping manhood and an intense shot of pleasure burning and consuming her excited body, travelling up and down her arching back. Her muffled screams were in harmony with her partner's, and she felt her soft, pink hair wrapping around Branch's shorter and black one in an intimate and tight grip, as they didn't want to let go.

That feeble orgasm was absolutely NOTHING compared to their previous ones, but the two Trolls loved it just as much, and maybe even more: in that moment, when their lips met after their carnal union, they felt close to each other. Really close. Not because the grey male was still inside the Princess' body, not because she could perceive his hot and sticky semen warming her and making her shiver with content, but because their minds were connected and their eyes locked. “I love you.” they seemed to say to each other, but they never knew for sure, and just treasured that moment in their hearts.

Poppy didn't know what was going to happen after that episode, she didn't know what to expect from him and she didn't want to know. It was fine like this. It was totally fine for the Princess.

She just looked into his semi-closed orbs for inteminable moments, and her lips curled into a wide but soft smile when he didn't look away. Pink and Blue melted together, the time seemed frozen as they stared at each other, silently and intensely.

Yes, they were connected, they could feel that, they were trying to reach for each other.

Just like a Pink Bright Flower smiles and grows to reach its beloved Light Blue Sky.

THE END

1- Plot and Foreplay; [Done!]

2- Pure Smut; [Done!]

3- Foreplay, Smut and Plot; [Done!]

4- Main Plot;[Done!]

5- Plot, Smut and Ending. [Done!]

[curieminery96]

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[braindamageforbeginners]

Self-assessment

For those keeping track, today is Week 3, Day 27 (of chemo), and I have 17 radiation treatments under my belt. However, because today is a holiday, I have a brief respite from radiation. I’m almost at the four-week mark, by any measure, and, as the philosopher Bueller once noted, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Admittedly, life is moving much, much faster for me than the average person, but that’s all the more reason to pause and take one’s pulse.

So. I’m still daisy-side of the dirt (obviously). I’m capable of writing (sort of), and I’m mostly-coherent. Mostly. One thing I’ve noticed, browsing through the archives is a recent spate of typos (which isn’t terribly concerning, since I have monster-truck-sized hands and tend to type with the reckless abandon of a four-year-old playing on a typewriter*), half-thoughts, and repeated thoughts. Those last two are cause for concern. Both of them rely on short-term memory - namely, remembering if you’ve already made your point, and finished it. Of course, it could also be indicative of the severe stress and sleep-deprivation that goes with my current lifestyle. It could also be due to the fact that I frequently write these in 5-minute segments scattered throughout the day, and wind up finishing them after all the frail mortals of the house have retreated to their chambers. Of course, I also know from personal experience that brain damage is virtually impossible to detect, and you make up all kinds of excuses and ways to avoid dealing with the issue, until it becomes unavoidable. On the other hand, I did successfully remember the name of an old friend of my father’s, based on some vocabulary/idiomatic cues, and I haven’t seen her in at least thirty years, so, long-term memory’s intact.

And there’s just always the horrible, nihilistic fact that we live in a society ruled by sociopaths who seem hell-bent on keeping the sick from ever getting better. Case in point; I spent today refilling, rechecking, and fetching prescriptions. That’s not a half-finished thought; it took a while on the phone trying to coordinate the various chemicals that keep me alive and/or kill me (yes, I am taking both simultaneously, that’s how cancer meds work)(and, no, I’m not going to let up on that fact until science develops something a little less horrifying). I wasn’t terribly successful in that; I managed to get one drug (after a week of skeevy phone-calls with insurance), and, although I’m down to my last week of anti-seizure pills (sort of, I have a few of them; one of my doctors actually told me she would double-dose a prescription; which I thought sounded good, then I got a letter the next day from the insurance company saying that they had made a temporary exemption for me, but that drug was not covered under my plan, and they wouldn’t do it again; so, really, it was a clever doctor taking advantage of the health insurance industry to give me a few more weeks on this planet)(these are the types of people you want looking after you when the rubber hits the road), I have enough to last until Friday, and I am seeing the mad scientist oncologists tomorrow, who have a helluva lot of juice in the system (these are the guys who literally got me a radiation oncology consultation within two hours of seeing them, and got me a same-day anti-depressant refill, which, in California, qualifies as witchcraft), so I’m planning on siccing them on it. Again, for all readers who want to know one of the hallmarks of someone who will help keep you alive (because this did come up in conversation with my undergrad friend the other day), a strong indicator that you’re in good hands is when, whenever you bring up a problem, the response isn’t to shunt you to some other department or give you another phone number, it’s, “You ain’t got no problem, Jules. I’m on the motherfucker.” Even if that means they get back to you in a day or two after doing some research, as frequently happens when you’re a one-of-a-kind medical specimen.

So, with another horrible experimental injection tomorrow (there is absolutely nothing enjoyable about it, and I have to chug loads of Gatorade the night before, which is just kicking me when I’m already down), the potential for medical complications from an unfulfilled keppra prescription on the horizon (although I still have a card or two I can play on that one, if the witch doctors are a bust)(if you’re getting the impression that it is taking every single screed of energy, luck, and cunning I possess merely to stay alive; well, that’s completely accurate), I did what anyone else would do: I went to the gym. It’s what Martin Luther King, Jr would’ve wanted.

Holy shit, did the law of averages catch up with me. Folks, I believe I mentioned that Radiation Oncologist started microdosing me with hateful, vile decadron. This is a general steroid, which means it keeps inflammation down (namely, it keeps pain and swelling down at the joints, which, thanks to my butcher surgeon, I now have where I should not have them, and they hurt)(again, I suspect Radiation Oncologist prescribed this not only to play down the deleterious effects her nuclear weapon medicine is having on my surgical healing processes, but to prevent my brain from swelling)(which would, presumably, burst out of my skull, like Mojo Jojo and/or Jeremy Irons in Time Machine)(if you don’t get those references, well, I’m not writing for you). So, yeah; low-level steroids of the decidedly not-androgen variety are in my system. Which means most low-level immunological reactions no longer happen with me. What you don’t know is, most of the pain and/or inefficiencies you experience with disease or work-outs (physiologically, the two are similar; I’ll go into more detail upon request, but most people tend to get glassy-eyed and move toward the door) is due to accumulations of all those white blood cells (which are responsible for inflammation, let’s not forget). Well, not anymore. I am now doing more intense work-outs than I ever have, in perfect form, and in half the time. I am not making that up, and I am not exaggerating any of it. Now, it’s extremely possible I’ll wake up paralyzed or die in the night (the one good thing about experimental injections and having to drink 132 gallons of Gatorade is that you no longer fear death)(as long as it’s not a Gatorade-related death), but, focusing on the positive, this just lends more credence to my hope - just a fool’s hope, admittedly - that I will become Captain America (and, although there is always the horrifying and distinct possibility that I’ll die a horrible death and/or be lobotomized; I haven’t even begun to discuss neuroplasticity, and why another mad scientist** is probably in the process of writing a paper on neuroregeneration based on me)(again, this is true, albeit slightly-exaggerated).

So, yeah, we close on what is undoubtedly a discombobulating set of half-thoughts, unfinished themes, and/or unknowingly repeated ideas. Have fun with it, future-me; I’ve got to be up early tomorrow for another fun set of science experiments wherein I am the experiment, and I’m exhausted after a long day at the gym and lying to various pharmacy technicians and office clerks. *I know this because I actually did this when I was four. Shut up. **Yes, I collect mad scientists; everyone needs a hobby. Shut up.