#so now i have to wake up a whole hour earlier than i would’ve had to s o b s

[deus-ex-mona]

emotional support creatures

[bloatedandalone04]

Santa, Baby

➪the one where you and hayden celebrate christmas.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, rushed writing

Word Count: 1.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Merry Christmas!

The sun was barely up as Hayden slowly opened his eyes and stared at the closed curtains for a few seconds. He adjusted to the dim light that filled the room before turning over and pulling your body closer to his chest. 

It was as if his body knew what day it is as when he closed his eyes, sleep never came to him. And, after nearly six years together, Hayden is more than aware of the fact that Christmas is your favorite holiday. 

Sure, you decorated the house for Halloween and even for Easter, but he had never seen so many red and green things in his entire life before he met you. You went all out every December and kept the decorations up well into the new year as well, claiming to not be ready to take them down every single time he asked if he could start putting them away. 

While he was wide awake now, you were still sleeping peacefully in his arms, your head not resting on your pillow but instead on his bicep. You were only wearing one of his old tees and bright red underwear that had HO HO HO written in cursive on the back, and Hayden would’ve found that hot if he didn’t already find it undeniably cute and so you. 

He was wearing nothing on top and black briefs he had slipped on the prior night after spending most of Christmas Eve wrapped around you in the sheets once the guests had cleared out. You had thrown your third Christmas party since being with him last night and you were both a bit tipsy when you took his hand in yours and pulled him with you in the direction of your shared room. 

Hayden was a bit scared to leave this room and see how much of a mess yours and his friends left for the two of you to clean up. He was even  more scared to listen to the Christmas playlist you had been playing on repeat for the past four weeks while you and he cleaned up the mess.  

You sleep for a little while longer, with Hayden staying with you the whole time until your eyes slowly open. Then you were jumping up and standing above him, your feet placed on either side of his waist as you grinned down at him. “Baby!” You excitedly say. “It’s Christmas! Hayden, it’s Christmas!”

Hayden is powerless to stop the smile from forming on his lips as he grips the backs of your knees and pulls you down so you are straddling his waist. “I know, baby,” he murmurs, sitting up and placing his hands on your hips. “I’m surprised I was awake before you were.”

You playfully roll your eyes and grab onto his shoulders. “How long have you been up?”

He shrugs, “Half an hour or so,”

“Hayden!” You gasp and lightly smack his shoulder before massaging that same place. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because we had a late night last night and you were pretty tired by the time I was done with you,” he answered and you blush almost immediately. “And you looked so cute. Quiet, but cute.”

You roll your eyes again. “Haha, you’re funny. Come on, we need to clean up before I give you your Christmas present,”

When you go to get off him, Hayden tightens his hold on your waist. “Before all of that, can you give me a kiss first? I’ve been holding off on kissing you since I woke up,”

You blush a bit more as you lean down and kiss him deeply, your hands sliding up and tangling in his hair. His grip on you tightens and guides your body forward, but before he could grind up against you and keep you in bed for the rest of the morning, you pull away with a teasing smirk. “There will be more of that later, if you can keep your hands to yourself long enough to help me clean up the house,”

Hayden laughs and lets you go, staying in bed and watching as you bend over to grab the matching plaid pajama pants you bought earlier this month. “What, that wasn’t my gift?” 

You stand up straight and toss the bigger size at him. “Nope,” you answer as the pants hit his face then fall onto his lap. 

He picks them up as you put yours on, “Can I get a hint?” 

You walk back over to him and press a quick kiss to his lips. “Nope,” 

Then you were pretty much sprinting out of the room and he was left to tug on the loose-fitting pants and follow after you. 

It was nearing eleven in the morning when you and Hayden finally finished cleaning up all the dishes and making the rest of your house look presentable, even though it was just you and him today. 

Hayden falls onto the couch and extends his arms out to you, gesturing for you to lay down with him. When you just shake your head with a small grin, he sits up a bit, “What? That was a lot of work, baby, come lay with me,” 

You shake your head again and walk backwards towards the guest room door. “I can’t,” 

He sits up completely at that as he watches you turn and place your hand on the doorknob. “Why not?”

“Because,” you trail off. “It’s time for your present.”

Before Hayden could further question your strange behavior, you open the door and a small Golden Retriever with a red bow wrapped loosely around its neck comes wandering out. “You didn’t,” he said and his voice must have caught the attention of the puppy as it began making its way over to him. “Baby, you didn’t.”

“I did,” you say as you follow after the puppy and sit next to your boyfriend while it sits at his feet. “You kept talking about how much you wanted a dog, and I grew up with Goldens so I know how sweet they are. I hope you love him.”

“Him? He’s a boy?” Hayden asked as he picked up the puppy. When you nodded he leaned over and pressed kiss after kiss to your cheek. “I love him, baby, he’s the best gift ever.”

You grin and reach over, scratching under the puppy’s chin. “I already picked out a name, I hope you don’t mind,”

Hayden shook his head, “What is his name?”

“Obi,” you answer and Hayden laughs loudly, petting Obi’s head after startling him with the sound. “I thought, since Ewan did me a favor and kept him at his house for a few days so I could surprise you, I’d name him after his character.”

Hayden keeps one hand on Obi and uses his other one to guide you into a kiss by gently gripping the back of your neck. “I love you,” he mumbles before kissing you again.

He pulls away and looks back at Obi, adjusting his  bow. “Merry Christmas, Hayden. Are you surprised?”

“Very,” he replied, his heart nearly melting when Obi settled on his lap. “How did you even get him in the guestroom? When?”

You shrug with a smile, “Ewan came with him last night. He put him in there while you were still getting ready. I hid your shirt so he could come in quickly while you were looking for it,”

Hayden looks over at you with a surprised laugh. “You’re sneaky,” he ruffles the top of Obi’s head again. “This makes my gift look bad.”

Nuzzling against his side, you smile at the two of them. “Nothing you give me will ever be bad,” you assure him. 

“Better get it out of the way,” he said, setting Obi onto your lap before getting up. He disappears into your room for a few seconds and you distract yourself by petting the new addition to the family. “Okay, here it is.” 

Hayden enters the living room again, and you are far too distracted to realize that he is now kneeling in front of you. 

“Baby,” he calls out to you and you hum, looking up at him. Your smile faded a bit when you took in his position, and your fingers tangled in Obi’s hair as your gaze narrowed on the small open box he held in his hand. Inside it was the prettiest ring you had ever seen.  “I love you. I have for six years now, and I will for the rest of my life. You mean more to me than anyone else in the world, and I promise that I will continue to make you happy for the rest of our lives. Will you-”

“Yes,” you cut him off, gently pushing Obi onto the cushion in order to throw yourself at Hayden. 

He caught you, moving to sit on the ground as you climbed onto his lap. “I didn’t even get to ask you-” “Yes,” you say again, kissing him multiple times, reiterating in between each one, “Yes, yes, yes. This is the best Christmas gift ever, baby, yes.”

[rambheem-is-real]

Hurts So Good Part 1

pairing: Varadeva

warnings: NSFW in part 2

This one shot got longer than I thought so I'm splitting it into multiple parts, based on this post

-

It’s over. Deva has rescued Krishnakanth’s daughter from the Khansaar soldiers. There’s a surge of relief that at least this once, he was able to protect her. He can’t forget the look in Aadhya’s eyes from the day she went to the market and he had stayed holding onto the pole. How can he tell her, this stranger, about the promise he made to his mother? How can she know what he’s capable of? 

Deva hadn’t realized until he blasted the trucks open, that the men were from Khansaar, and that the shipment had the Salaar’s seal stamped onto every container. His own seal, staring at him after almost a decade. Not that seeing it earlier would have stopped his attack. 

Amma wanted him to keep Aadhya safe, Deva would keep Aadhya safe. 

His whole life had revolved around one word for the last few years: Amma. Her word might as well have been the word of god, not that he believed in one anymore. She did her best to protect him from falling back into old habits, strict as she was. He had heard the whispers from the women when he killed Vishnu: Kaateramma koduku. Rakshasudu. The woman doing tattoos had painted a devil onto his arm after seeing his future. At some point, those names started to feel literal, and only Amma had been able to calm him down. She had made him promise to never use violence again, unless she explicitly told him to do so, and Deva had not broken that promise in seven years. He looks over at her, the mother that hadn’t so much as given him a loving glance in years. 

Amma is looking out of the window, avoiding his gaze, as always. He smiles to himself. Whatever happened, he hadn’t broken their promise. 

The next second, their car explodes, and Deva loses consciousness. 

-

Deva wakes up in darkness. He takes stock immediately of the chains threaded through his wrists, and the ones tying his ankles to the floor. There’s a gag in his mouth and a blindfold around his eyes, preventing him from fully seeing where he is, but he doesn’t need to. He’s been in a cell like this seven years ago. This time it seems like they’ve taken precautions. 

Well, of course they would, because he would’ve told them how dangerous Deva was. 

His traitorous heart starts beating faster at the mere thought, and Deva tries in vain to conjure back images of him holding Amma at gunpoint. You can’t feel that way about him anymore, Deva tries to think, but he knows it's useless. His corpse could be brought back to life at the mere mention of that man’s name. Sometime in his childhood, Deva had given him his heart, and never found a way to get it back. The scars running down his arms are both a blessing and a curse, keeping Deva from forgetting the boy he once would’ve destroyed the entire world for. 

He estimates it’s about an hour before he hears footsteps, multiple sets. 

“Leave us.” There’s a quiet order, before only one set of feet walk into his cell, the rest fading away. 

Deva knows in his bones who it is, recognizes the melodic tone of the steps. Just hearing his voice had simultaneously elated and terrified him. Not for himself, of course he wasn’t scared for his own safety. He had come to fear the power that the other man had always held over him. 

It was for this man that he had stained his hands red, that he had killed the Ghaniyar leader in a fit of anger, just because he had dared to lay hands on his Sulthan. He can’t disappoint Amma again, he can’t break his promise to her. He doesn’t want more flashes of men dying by his hands every night, he doesn’t want to go back to being that monster. But for Varadharaja Mannar, Deva knows he would kill again in a heartbeat. 

There’s a few beats of silence. 

“I told you I never wanted to see your face again.” That beloved voice, now cold as ice. Deva can recall too well the anger on Varadha’s face when he had first issued the order to Deva, seven years ago. He stays silent. “Or did you not know, that it was the Khansaar cargo you disrupted? Bilal certainly seemed to think so.” 

There are calloused fingers on Deva’s face, tilting it this way and that. He thinks Varadha might be trying to see any differences, the results of age. 

“But the fact of the matter remains: You broke the seal you yourself imposed. The punishment for that in the Nibandhanam is death.” A glimpse of a memory, of his own hands writing out the consequences of tampering with the Salaar’s seal. “And for what?”

The fingers suddenly tighten, pressing hard enough to bruise Deva’s cheeks and jaw. “All this, for a girl?” Varadha hisses. “Is she your lover? You couldn’t pick anyone other than Krishnakanth’s daughter?”

Deva’s lips twitch. He understands more what this is about, now. As possessive as Deva is about Varadha, only he knows that Varadha is worse about Deva. The other man had only been calm his whole life because he never worried about Deva, due to some childhood belief that Deva was invincible. He wants to laugh at the thought that after all these decades, the only threat Varadha decided existed to Deva and his feelings for Varadha was a lady that couldn’t even yell at a bunch of unruly school children to shut them up.  

Deva knows Varadha sees the smile when he hears a sharp intake of breath from above. He’ll let Varadha come to any conclusions he wants. If he thinks Aadhya is important to Deva he might keep her alive, to use her as a bargaining chip. He doesn’t have any romantic intentions, but Varadha doesn’t need to know. He only genuinely feels bad for Aadhya. She had come to India to disperse her mother’s ashes, to respect her last wishes, and had gotten mixed up in whatever Deva and Varadha’s relationship now was. 

Friends? Not anymore. Enemies? Not when they were each other’s weakness. They were just somewhere in between, where the bad memories were outweighing the good. 

Deva’s head is yanked up by the hair. “I knew it,” Varadha spits. “You love her? You chose her?” Over me? is left unsaid, but Deva hears it anyway. 

Varadha seems to realize that Deva can’t respond, and yanks the gag out of his mouth. Deva knows what he wants: an explicit rejection. 

“Leave her alone,” Deva says, voice rough from disuse. It’ll sound like a confirmation that he loves Aadhya, but Deva doesn’t have to lie for it. He could never blatantly lie to his Varadha. 

There’s silence. Deva counts the beats in his head, trying to figure out what Varadha will do next. 

Finally, Varadha speaks. “The court wants you dead, for breaking the seal.” It’s a complete sidestepping of the Aadhya issue, and the sentence is uttered with barely suppressed heartbreak. Deva hates deceiving Varadha like this, but he has to keep Aadhya alive no matter what. Amma would be disappointed otherwise. 

“But you know as well as I do, that I can’t do that.” The fingers are on his face again, this time ghosting over his lips. “We’re too intertwined.” A pause. “Or maybe you’re fine, now that you have a girlfriend.” The bitterness is back. “But you’re still my weakness, my Salaar. So what now?”

The fingers press more insistently on his lips, and Deva doesn’t know why he does, but he lets them fall open a little. 

“What now,” Varadha trails off, as he sees. There’s a breath, and Varadha slips his thumb right into Deva’s mouth. They stay frozen together like that, until Varadha straightens. “Oh.” Deva hears the smirk in his voice as Varadha says, “I know what I want.”

-

tags: @deadloverscity @sada-siva-sanyaasi @sambaridli @sometimesbrave @just-a-lazy-person @vijayasena @mad-who-ra @umbrulla @jitterbugbetty @chocolate-1-0-1 @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @sinistergooseberries @tulodiscord @varadevaficrecs @hum-suffer @nini9224 @varadevlawyer @susi-r8here

[1ntercosmos]

WARM EMBRACE — VANITAS X NOÉ

a/n: my first fic (woop woop) hope you all enjoy. i'm working on making my fics more detailed but here it is!

wc: 602

the window crept open as vanitas swiftly pulled himself through and made his way inside the room. he closed it behind him and drew his curtains closed. a content sigh left his mouth as his shoulders fell slack. today’s mission was particularly labor intensive, his body was tired and sore from the strenuous activities he had to endure. 

he slipped off his outer coat and let it fall slack against the floor, along with all his other extra garments. he’d tidy it up in the morning. not long after he took his shirt off, his vision was blocked briefly. a squeal left his mouth as he whipped around trying to figure out what happened. standing behind him was the vampire he swore on his life he couldn’t stand. noé gave him a warm smile.

“hey vanitas, you’re back earlier than usual?” he stated softly as he fixed the pajama shirt he slid over the human’s head, smoothing out the fabric.

still startled, vanitas swatted noé’s hands off of him, like an angry cat, “i- why are you back so early?”

“domi and i cut our meeting short because she had some business to attend to,”

the angel sighed again as his whole body now went slack. they both knew he wasn’t really. he was just so utterly frustrated from today’s mission and it was blatantly evident in his features. noé’s never seen anyone get so tense. a faint smile snuck onto the vampire’s face and he embraced the other gently in his arms.

“come, let’s lay down. you look like you need to calm down and destress.” noé grabbed vanitas’ by his wrist and led him to his bed, and didn’t argue at all. he slowly wrapped his arms around noé’s neck and laid his head on his shoulder.

the vampire sat down and leaned back a bit with vanitas still in his lap. usually at this point, he would’ve crawled to his own spot on the bed, but he just sank deeper into noé. he smiled to himself as vanitas mumbled,

“‘dont feel like moving right now…and you’re really warm..”

“that’s fine, you can lay here for as long as you need..” noé cooed

the older snaked his hands under vanitas’ pajama shirt, further spreading his warmth through his body. he pulled his impossibly closer as he slowly stroked his back & under his shoulder blades, applying pressure occasionally. vibrations spread through noé as vanitas softly hummed into his neck, visibly relaxing under the other’s touches. the massages slowly transitioned into slow, soothing back rubs. a mumbled ‘thank you’ left the younger’s lips in that pillowy voice that noé didn’t hear all that often. he responded by patting his back.

it was almost an hour later when noé figured the latter would want to lay in his bed by himself, and started getting up.

“okay, im gonna get up now so you can rest, okay?”

he awaited a response but the room was deafeningly silent, except for the hushed breathing of the man on him. he was curled into his lap, a look of relaxation painting his face that was only brought out when he slept, which he didn’t do often. noé didn’t have it in his heart to wake him up. the thought of having to see him rub his eyes and sit up after being woken up made him want to cry. he hoped deep down vanitas wouldn’t mind if noé stayed in the bed with him, considering he was knocked out cold on his lap. he carefully slid down onto the bed and pulled the covers over them both.

[fortheloveofaussiegrit]

aus gp 2023 (oscarmark wip and a little nsfw)

The knock at the door hadn’t been completely unexpected, and he didn’t want to admit that he had been waiting— but he had.

It was the early hours of the morning by the time Mark opened his hotel room door, and it wasn’t a shock to see Oscar standing, almost swaying from side to side, looking a little worse for wear. Oscar had raced in his first home grand prix earlier that day, and he had scored points just like Mark had all those years ago. So Mark had told him to go celebrate, and by the way Oscar was not quite able to hold Mark’s gaze and the way he almost stumbled while standing still, it wasn’t difficult to gauge just how much of a good time Oscar’d had.

“You’re still awake.” Oscar mumbled to his manager as he wobbled his way into the room. 

"I am now." He replied, trying to stifle a yawn. He closed the door behind them, leaving his thoughts outside as he turned to see Oscar, noticing that his choice of words caused Oscar to spin so quickly back around that he almost toppled over.

“Sorry— i-i didn’t mean to wake you.”

Mark just shook his head and brushed him off, “you didn’t.” 

Oscar just nodded, looking up at Mark. It was dark in the room with only the bedside lamp on, and his laptop was strewn on the bed from where he had been sitting and working. He had changed out of what he was wearing earlier, but he was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt— Jeans that Oscar had told him were just a little too tight, and the t-shirt that was also on the smaller side, but he made no complaints. The t-shirt that he wore was just tight enough on his arms to show off the definition of his muscles and the jeans… He loved the way the jeans spread over his thighs when he sat down, the denim stretching over his bulge at times too, and that image alone made Oscar feel even more unsteady on his feet.

He could see that his eyes looked tired, starting to curl around and droop at the corners. The wrinkles around his eyes pleated even more, and Oscar just wanted to run his fingers over each and every single one of them because he loved them. He loved the way they creased when he made Mark smile, when he grinned a congratulations in Oscar's direction, and most importantly, he loved the way they bunched together when Mark squeezed his eyes shut when he was close to cuming with his cock in Oscar’s mouth. 

And Oscar was almost lost just staring at the man he believed he owed so much to... Not just for the help with his racing but for everything else that entailed too. The looking after him when he was younger; the making sure he was doing his homework; the making sure he was eating; checking his flights so he wouldn’t miss them, knocking on his hotel door when he knew Oscar would’ve slept through his alarm; taking him home with him so he could eat one of Ann’s home-cooked meals because he knew how badly the homesickness sucked at times; and just being there when no one else was.

Then that had all evolved into what they had now— not that they could label what they had now. 

They had never really talked about what it was; it had just happened. It was sex, and it was also a whole lot more than just that too, but maybe because they knew it was wrong and it could never be anything more than a dirty little secret they both kept hidden in the depths of their pockets, that was why they were content with what they had and why they never questioned it. Oscar didn’t care that it was wrong; Mark cared for him, looked after him, maybe even loved him, and he could also set ablaze every single nerve in Oscar’s body when he ripped orgasm after orgasm from him. He was fine with it being condemned to hotel rooms and having to steal secret glances and touches in public because no one had ever made Oscar feel the way Mark did. 

Mark, on the other hand, had been quite vocal about how wrong it was, with mumbles coming from Mark about how they shouldn’t be doing this, but then Oscar was sucking his cock into his mouth, and all those thoughts seemed to be forgotten.

Oscar wanted that now… he had gone out like Mark had told him too. He had been nearly carried into some swanky club in Melbourne and then preceded to get drunk… very drunk as he had been handed drink after drink and was even hoisted into the air on numerous occasions because they had a lot to celebrate: the boy from Melbourne had scored points in his first home grand prix. 

But then later into the evening that familiar feeling of lust and inebriety started to mix in his stomach and then all he wanted was to be in Mark’s bed with Mark’s hands and mouth all over him.

That’s how he ended up stood before Mark with his hand reaching out to touch his cheek. To rub his thumb over that outgrown stubble, feeling the prickle against the palm of his hand. Wanting to feel it rub against his own cheek, to brush against his neck as Mark trailed kisses down his check. He wanted to feel it caress against the insides of his thighs as Mark bit kisses into his skin, drawing out bruises and yelps from Oscar as he did. 

Then he was pushing onto his tiptoes so he could reach Mark’s lips with his, merely brushing a touch before Mark spoke. 

“What are you doing here?” Mark asked as if it wasn’t obvious.

Oscar just grinned smugly as he reached to press his lips to Mark’s again before settling back on the heels of his feet as it seemed Mark was far more interested in talking then anything else.

“Couldn’t find someone to take you home and fuck you, is that it?” He teased as his lips curled into a grin as he looked to Oscar. 

“They don’t fuck me like you do.” 

Mark spluttered out a cough at that having to take a step back from the kid. 

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1994 I just got off the phone talking to Andy. Sure enough, the day he arrived the weather took a turn for the worst. Up till his arrival, the weather had been in the 50s. He said he was freezing the whole time and it never got up above 32º. He said all he could think about was me laughing at him.

He saw his family and said Linda’s daughter Samantha was cute which surprised him, cuz he too, thinks babies are ugly. I agree. They all look the same, too.

He said he just knows his 6-year-old nephew Brian’s going to be gay. Maybe so, cuz when Lisa was a baby I always felt she’d be into music, and I was right. Music and gayness run in families.

He stood at Mary’s and she, Adam and Adam’s best friend Mona from San Francisco and he went to dinner to celebrate Adam’s birthday. This girl Mona apparently moved back and is a topless dancer in Springfield. And is making way more than I did here. Andy says she’s blond with big tits, though, so maybe that’s why. I also think it’s cuz there are fewer topless bars in Springfield than there are in Phoenix. Andy, Adam, and 4 others went to a gay bar in Hartford and were shocked to see it was packed with wall-to-wall people. There he met up with an old lust object he met 15 years ago who wants to get back together with him. Andy said he would’ve if he lived there. The funniest part of it was when they left the bar after 5 hours. When he came out of the bar it was snowing really hard and all the cars were covered. Before that, when Mary came to wake him up at noon, she came into his room and said, “Look. I’ve got something to show you.” She pulled up the shade and there was a dusting of snow. He said he was like - oh my God! When he returned to Adam’s in Adam’s car, he had to do something he swore he’d never do again - clean snow off of a car. He had driven his father’s car over there.

He said no one bad-mouthed me. His mom said I turned out to be a beautiful girl and remembers when I was chunky. They asked if Tom and I were going to have a kid. Judy said she was glad I got to see Goldie and Al and said she always liked them.

He said he called Nervous and he actually talked to him. He wanted to go over and take a picture of him and Crystal, but he wouldn’t let him.

He slept from 4 AM to noon while he was there.

Well, that’s all for now. In a half-hour, I’m going to watch a movie I taped.

Later…

I watched a couple of movies I taped. They were so-so.

I tested Tom’s PrintBMP programs for bugs. So far, so good. I printed out 2” pictures all the way up to 11”. I printed out Piggy, Norah, and drawings I did of Linda and Gloria, as well as a couple off the top of my head.

I wallpapered the back wall of Piggy’s cage by taping pictures on from the outside facing in. One of Piggy, 2 of Norah, 2 Linda drawings and 3 Gloria drawings.

Tom got that envelope yesterday from my parents. It was a Phoenix Suns T-shirt. He really liked it as he really likes basketball.

I chatted with my dad earlier. I called Tammy too, who had a friend over at the time.

Another funny thing Andy said was how he missed his plane because he had to take a shit. He was delayed for two hours.

It’s not as cold here as it is in the east, but I wish it was in the 80s here like it is in Florida. It’s pretty chilly out there right now, but where my parents are you can lie out in the sun and go swimming. The pool temperature is 50º.

What should I do now? I guess I’ll pump in a little bit of fresh air and go start typing another document for Tom.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 1994 First I’ll go into detail about making the earrings, then into what Marjorie gave us. The earring kit came with 4 strips of soft metallic plastic. One strip makes 4 pairs. It also had the mold and the backings and parts. What you do is cut a strip in half and put them in a pot of hot water with a few drops of cooking oil so they don’t stick. Then, when they get soft and flimsy you take them out and press them into the earring mold. Then you set it in cold water for a couple of minutes, then take them out and trim off excess plastic on the outside of the mold and remove the mold. The last part’s easy. You peel off a dot over the adhesive, push the backing down into it and pull it out with its adhesive on it. Then you stick it wherever you want on the back of the earring, put the post on, and they’re ready to wear. I have a pink one, a green one, one with light pastel colors and one with darker colors. I just had a pair on but I had to take them off as they were irritating me. I can’t wear fake stuff in my ears.

Marjorie’s sister Margaret sent us a Christmas card and she also wished me a happy Chanukah. She lives in San Diego. She also gave us some cookies she made, some material and scissors that are great for cutting material. Now I can keep an extra pair in my room. We had one in the back room, one in the kitchen and one in the living room. I had a pair in my room, but they were quite little. The ones that were in the kitchen now live in my room and the ones Marjorie gave us are in the kitchen.

Later…

The good news is that I cut 30 square foot pieces of material and sewed them into 5 strips of 6. Then, I connected 2 of those strips side by side. The bad news is that when I went to attach the third strip, I got it backward, with the backside of the material facing the wrong way. Tomorrow, or whenever, I have to take the seam ripper and rip it off and put it right side up. Then hitch on the remaining 2 strips and hope I don’t fuck that up. Lastly, I’ll hem the 4 edges and hope to hell I’ve made a fairly decent quilt.

I have about 11 different patterns. The 7 Marjorie gave us, a sheet, an old dress, and those 2 from the material we got to make the 2 throw pillows that are on the living room couch.

Tonight there’s to be a movie on called Bionic Ever After. At least, I think that’s what it’s called. Lindsay Wagner and Lee Majors reunite to get married, I guess.

Tom says there’s also some bionic quiz on Prodigy, too. I’ll have to check that out in a little while.

We ordered stuff at dirt-cheap prices from a catalog. He got tools and I got Velcro sneakers, a nightie, and a few other things too, which I can’t remember.

Later…

I just finished typing up 25 and now it’s printing out. The next one (26) should go fast. It’s a 130-pager, but I only need to type up about 94 pages. The rest is letters or convos from tapes that I copied in.

As tired as I am I have to stay up till 2:00 to take Andy’s last tape out and put it with the rest of them by the door, even though Tom would gladly do it.

Tom’s going to tape the movie I mentioned earlier in his room and I’m going to tape a movie in the living room.

I let Andy know we’ll both be asleep, so he’ll use his key to let himself in quietly.

Tom left about an hour ago to go take his parents to the racetrack. Barely 5 minutes after he left Marge called saying Dad’s stomach was bothering him, but that maybe it’d be OK by the time he got there. I thanked her for the stuff, too. I guess he’s feeling better cuz Tom hasn’t returned. Maybe he’s over there chatting. I know how much they all like to talk.

Well, now I’m going to go check the printer. My stuff should be done printing any minute.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 1994 Wow! Only 8 more days to go! Can’t wait to get it over with and get on with life in stereo.

Last night at sundown was the beginning of Chanukah. I never lit the candles since being on my own and we doubt my parents would’ve sent the menorah, candles, and that plate if I weren’t married. Last night, or afternoon, I should say, I lit the candles. It was fun and interesting. Especially for Tom as this is all new to him.

I’m sure my parents tried to call, but I was in bed and Tom had the ringer off to do computer work. I talked to Tammy and Bill. Tammy said she appreciated the gifts. I’m glad she did.

I finished the Tammy and Sarah documents yesterday. And Shauna’s, too.

Yesterday morning Tom swept out the garage and I took all the trash out of his car. Tons of it.

Shortly after Tom got up, we screwed around. We experimented with different positions. It was fun and it’s getting easier.

Then, we went to a bookstore and an art store. He got a computer book and I got 2 journals. In the art store, I got these pens, plaster of Paris to mold figurines, and an earring-making kit. We made all 4 earrings in the kit. They came out really cool looking and they’re not hard at all to make. I’ll expand much more on it tomorrow.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 1994 I just checked Andy’s messages for the first time since he’s been gone. He’s got 26. The bulk of them is from an ex-coworker. I think that’s who it is. A few calls from the ad he placed. One sounded promising, one a complete ditz, and the other a slut. The dirty old man type. Lots of hang-ups too, that are probably ad-related. I used to get that a lot when I placed ads back east.

I finally did get around to writing Alex a letter. Also to Bob, Tammy and my parents. I wrote them to give my wrist a break from all the typing I did.

Several months ago, Tom printed out pictures for me to draw and I did, so I turned it into stationery.

I’d also like to get that V-shaped keyboard they make. It really should decrease wrist strain. I added a few more things to the ‘to do’ and ‘to get’ lists.

I got a letter from Bob today. I found it ironic that he said he expects us to have a kid by November 26, 1995. Why? Cuz I had feelings about November, Tom said he thought it’d be the end of ‘95 or the beginning of ‘96 and that most people in his family are born in the winter or summer. On the other hand, that means getting pregnant around March. That’s awfully fast for a DES daughter, even if after the surgery he came like there was no tomorrow. Seeing is believing for me, though. The other day we were talking about not always getting something you wanted. Whether it’s out of your control or you’re waiting. Like when Tom said the reason I’m not pregnant is cuz we agreed to wait. When he said that, that deepened my belief that he could’ve cum since day one, but is waiting for when we are ready. With all that’s gone on, though, plus my surgery, I’m very glad we waited. However, if he doesn’t cum in time after surgery, I’m going to think two things: That God doesn’t want me to have a kid and that there’s something wrong with him, but his ego or manhood won’t allow him to say so and go talk to a doctor about it. No, I don’t think I’d think he didn’t want a kid unless he told me so and he’s told me he does want one.

We’ve had good talks and he gives good advice. He brought up a very good point about why we don’t have tapes of me singing. Besides blocks, I’ve got in my head due to those bullshit bands back east and Scott, he said I worry too much about the end of things which prevents or makes it hard for me to start things. Yeah, it’s true that I’d sit there and ask myself what I’d do with the money, for example, whether I made a little or millions.

I’ve often told myself to bring back the music. Sing more, play the guitar and keyboards, but then I ask myself, “What for?” The answer should’ve been, “Cuz it’s what I like to do.” I wish I had the same attitude about it as I do with writing these journals and drawing. I do it cuz I like it. I never think of the end, and doing these things serves no purpose.

Tom sure was also right when he mentioned how I never thought drawing on paper would lead to me drawing on walls. Very true. I mentioned this to Tammy and my parents, too.

Later…

I talked to Mom real quick yesterday who said she couldn’t really use the crayon can, it was childish, and if she found a child she’d give it to them. Most people would’ve been like, fine! Fuck you then. But I appreciate her honesty and this way I know never to send anything like it again. Just like when they used to send me grandma clothes. I’d send them back, rather than let them sit here and go to waste. I’m not shocked as she is “too grown up,” but a part of me is shocked as she has her own set of Mickey Mouse T-shirts, stuffed animals, etc. I believe you’re never too old for anything. I forgot to say this in my letter to my parents, but I think it’d be best if we told each other what we want for birthdays and holidays.

I haven’t sent Scott anything for about a year, and I know he’s long since moved, so his father’s getting two Bob letters. I know Scott will hear all about it. I wrote his dad’s address as the return address, too, with no postage and I’m having Andy send it. This way the mailman won’t see there’s no stamp on it, as he picks it up from here, and toss it back in the mail slot. I doubt he’d do that even if he did notice that there wasn’t any postage, but this way I don’t have to worry.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 1994 I was trying to decide if I should make a period chart for 1995 on the computer or do one myself. Well, I came up with an even better idea. Journals 36 to 40 and 52 and letter books have every other page blank for the most part cuz I glued in pages and wrote stuff not back to back. In 52, 100% of it has every other page blank. I’ll use a page for each year. I just wrote up the 1995 period chart. It’s a bit sloppy, but it’ll work. I may or may not use all blank pages in all books for letters. That’d take forever to fill up. There could be a few hundred of those. Tonight I typed up the Shauna doc and began 25.

I hope Andy doesn’t kill me for forgetting to record his shows in SP today. At least they did get taped, but hopefully these two soaps will be the most boring of all.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 1994 I just finished typing 26.

Tom and I had a steak for our Turkey Day dinner.

My parents called and we chatted about our visit with Goldie and Al.

Ma asked me about the picture she sent since I didn’t write about it. I told her that it wasn’t until right after I finished their letter that I got the message behind it and read it. Tom and I were right. Even though the girl in the picture had brown hair that was only medium length, she reminded them of me. She said they got it in a gallery.

They said they went over to Marty & Ruth’s for dinner. Better them than me. Or us.

She said to tell Tom to look for a brown envelope. I asked Dad to tell me what it is and that I wouldn’t tell (I really wouldn’t), but he wouldn’t tell.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1994 Dinner tonight with Goldie and Al was great. Tom was impressed with them and he enjoyed himself, too. Goldie and Al looked very happy. They didn’t look as big as I thought they might, and I don’t remember them being so short.

I could tell they were judging me for who I was today. Not in the past. I told Tom they were always good to me, never gossiped or bad-mouthed people.

Dinner was their treat and pretty good. I got eggplant and Tom got lasagna.

They told me more about their retirement plans. They had once stayed on the beachfront where my folks used to live for $1,800 a month! I guess my folks were paying $800 a month. Wow! They got a 3-month lease on an apartment in Las Vegas.

They showed me pictures of Aaron and Noah, their wives, and their kids. Of course, I’d never say this to them, but they didn’t look too great. Their wives were so ugly and looked like typical moms. I brought our wedding pictures, some of me at the two apartment complexes I lived at here, and those pictures of Tammy and Noah going to Tammy’s prom.

If anything shocked them, it was how happy I’ve become and that I’m not fat anymore.

I never could remember how they met, so they told me that they lived next to my folks in Springfield on Willowbrook Dr. They left Springfield in 1966 and they hate Springfield too, and understand how shitty it is there.

Goldie said Ma was always a night person. Really? I don’t remember that. I know she’d be up till 11 PM - 1 AM, usually, and sometimes slept till noon on weekends. She was never up, though, that I knew of at 2:00 - 4:00 AM.

We were laughing at how Goldie was going to say to Ma, “Ha-ha. I got to meet your son-in-law first!”

They are quite happy for me about my ear surgery and are going to call me a few days after the surgery to see how it went.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1994 Just a very quick rundown on things cuz I’m about ready for bed. I made a mistake in saying Andy arrived in CT at 7:00 our time. He arrived at 7:00 their time.

Al called. They said it’ll be easier if we could meet them at the Olive Garden restaurant in Sun City. It’s about a 45-minute drive, but it’s worth it. We’ll be there at 6:30. Al said he was going to bring some pictures and so am I. Our wedding pictures, pictures of me at the VV & CC, and something else I’m sure they least expect. Their son Noah went to Tam’s prom with her and I have pictures of this. They were outside of the house we had on Berkeley Dr. in Longmeadow. I was in one of the shots all bandaged up after ear surgery. They oughta get a kick out of it, but I’ll expand more on that and other stuff tomorrow.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1994 Andy came over, but not for long as he has to get up at 8 AM. His plane leaves at 10 AM and he'll arrive in Hartford at 7 PM. His layover in Washington D.C. is an hour, so it'll be a 9-hour ordeal for him. Yuck! I sure as hell don't envy him. I called Prodigy while he was here and it finally does look like it's cooling way down there. It may even snow. The satellite showed flurries into New York and Vermont. The humidity's 92%. No thanks. I don't miss that shit.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1994 After I got up today, we went over to Mary’s to check out that vanity table and mirror. I like it but don’t know when it’ll be brought here. It has 6 small drawers and a stool. It’s white with speckles and is rather old, but not totally dumpy. It’ll be great for makeup, and I do intend to fix it up.

We changed Piggy’s cage today.

I’ve also got about 6-7 Nintendo games for Tammy and others that I’ll mail with the crayon cans I made. We’ll still put together a disk of games at some point.

Later…

Andy will be here anytime between 9 PM - 1 AM. He leaves tomorrow and he’ll be back on the 29th. He’s going to give me tapes to tape his soaps on. I also have things to show him, like new wall art and clothes. I’ll give him the 16 or so no-postage-necessary envelopes I have, too. I was going to mail him his Chanukah card, but I may as well give it to him tonight.

I got a letter from Bob today.

We went to Christown Mall earlier where I got two new lotion fragrances at Potions & Lotions. I got China Musk and April Rain. I also got some Chinese food.

Now, you’ll never believe who called me about coming to see us Wednesday. Goldie and Al! I’m so psyched! Apparently, they’re out visiting Al’s sister in Sun City. They’re also taking a couple of months as a vacation. They stopped to see someone in Las Cruces, New Mexico, have an apartment in Vegas, but still has a house in Milford, MA.

She said she was thrilled to “hear” about my ear, can’t wait to hug me, meet Tom, and talk with us. She’ll be calling at 5:30 Wednesday and I’m really looking forward to seeing them. So is Tom.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1994 I’m not quite ready to go to bed yet, so I just thought I’d write up on some of the things we’ve got planned during his days off. We’re going to go over to his sister Mary’s house to check out a vanity table she has sometime soon. We’re going to change Piggy’s cage. We’re going to put together that disk of games to send to Tammy and go to the post office to mail off everyone’s presents.

At some point, maybe Monday, Andy will be stopping over. I have some things to show him and he’s got to give me tapes so I can tape his soaps.

Tom’s going to go food shopping very early in the morning before I get up.

The other day I got a booklet in the mail with perfume samples. You know, the kind you peel open and rub onto yourself. Instead of rubbing it on me, to spare my allergies, I rubbed it on a few book covers. The back of this one, the next one, and a few old ones.

In about a month or a month and a half, it’ll be time to go journal shopping once again. Tom said he always figured that someday he’d read my journals, that it was bound to happen. No way! What an embarrassing thought. After I’m dead is one thing, but not while I’m alive.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1994 I finished typing up computer notes and tips from Tom’s computer magazines. I use different names for different documents. I’ve already used Norah, Kate, Farrah and Jaclyn. Next, I’ll use Linda, Gloria, and other people I like, then maybe names in our families. You can only use up to 8 characters, so Nickolena will have to be Nicolena. Here are some of the names I’ll use for future documents. Gloria, Linda, Maria, Lamaris, Shauna, Saundra, Lisa, Becky, Sarah, Tammy, Bill, Larry, Arthur, Dureen, Nicolena, Ray, Evie, Marjorie, David and Steven.

Later…

In a little while I’m going to go watch some shows I taped. I asked Tom to circle the page number in the index of magazines he wants to be typed and he did so in about 8 magazines. I have my work cut out for me, but I don’t mind and it’s fun. There’s going to be a total of 25 files and so far, I’ve already done 2. He picked out 5 more names, Mary, Wendy, Diane, Eileen and Lolita. I did Gloria and Bill and now I’m working on Marjorie. Bill, Marjorie and Saundra were all 1 page, but all the others are 2 to 3 and there’ll be an occasional 4.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 1994 I got my parents' package today. It was a huge one. Ma wrapped my birthday presents in flowered paper, my Chanukah presents in Chanukah paper and Tom’s Christmas presents in Christmas paper.

It was funny to see we sent each other the same Chanukah cards. I mailed out theirs and Tammy’s today.

Tom got a Phoenix Sun cap. He’s got a matching sweatshirt from his parents to go with it. Soap, deodorant, and cologne for Tom. He also got this really cool thing that’s in the shape of a ball, filled with liquid with a boat in it and a clock. We both got matching blue mugs, but of course, he doesn’t drink coffee or tea, but he sometimes drinks hot chocolate. There was a cookbook, chocolate candies, orange jellybeans, 2 rose candles, and a menorah with candles to go with it. A picture of a girl that looks great hung over the girl I drew in my wall mural and 2 calendar booklets for 1995. A thing you hang in the kitchen that’s hard to describe. It looks like beans and corn and stuff like that. A window-clinger, not a sticker, of a menorah, and dreidels. I stuck those in the garage door where only we can see them. There are too many hate groups out there. Three small magnetic picture frames. All my niece’s pictures were too big, so Gloria’s living in them. Two palm-sized balls with bells in them. They’re really pretty too, with gold and other colors with panda bears. Three skirts that fit perfectly. They’re just below the knee, but sexy and sophisticated. They’re all solid colors of peach, white and black. Another one of those skort outfits that’s flowered. The thing’s humongous on me, so I’ll have to shrink it and wear a tank top under it. A 50-inch windsock of a cow that even has a little cowbell on it that I put on the end of the clothesline. On the other end of the clothesline, I put the bird feeder with the bunny in it. A wind chime of a cat and 3 hearts. I put that on the patio.

It’s nice to be able to have a big, private yard to use these things.

Lastly, a drawing I did that was put on a plate when I was maybe in the 1st grade. Gross! Tom says it’s a wonderful keepsake. Ma said that, too. She enclosed a note saying it was a wonderful keepsake she enjoyed for years, but now it’s for me.

I just typed them a letter and that’s all for now. Now, I’m going to go watch TV and Andy will probably call at some point.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 1994 Soon, I’ll be going to bed. I just thought I’d quickly update on stuff first. Today I finished typing 23. I took Norah’s story and combined it with my journals, so counting that, I have 36 typed up that total 356 pages.

Yesterday when we screwed around, we didn’t use a rubber. Tom feels that at some point in ‘95 I’ll be pregnant. Sounds nice, despite my fears and doubts about it, and I hope that we’re both about to make one if you know what I mean.

I called Dad today and he asked how Tom and Andy are and said they don’t sell live animals. They’re flags with all kinds of animals on them as well as states and other countries.

Just as we were hanging up, Ma came in with groceries and she asked what their Chanukah present was. I said I’ll tell her if she tells me what’s in the package that oughta arrive tomorrow. She wouldn’t tell, so I wouldn’t tell.

Tom asked me questions earlier about Chanukah and his mom asked which one we celebrate. None with no kids. That’s something you live up more when there are kids. If we have a kid, we’ll acknowledge both.

His parents have a birthday tradition where they send each kid and their kid’s spouse a check for how old they are. Last June 28th Tom got a check for $37. He said she asked if I’d be offended if she wrote the check out to me for $25, even though I’m turning 22. She was shocked to see that I’m turning 29.

Wow. Even though I’ve been keeping journals for 7 years, when I turn 29, that’s 9 different ages I wrote during. During 21-29, but never much during 21 since I started writing at the end of October.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1994 Tom’s home now and he’s talking to his sister Mary who had a computer question.

I never heard from Andy last night, so who knows what he’s up to?

I did a lot of journal typing today and I’m in the hospital now with only 13 days to go till I arrive in Phoenix!

Speaking of hospitals, it’s been one year since my last attack! After that 2½-year reign of terror I went through back east till I got here, I’ve had only about 5 bad attacks in the 2½ years I’ve been here.

I still have some crayons left over, so I may use them to make another picture frame unless I think of something else.

Only 19 more days left till surgery. The time oughta fly by now.

Well, Kim has gone back home today. I assume she’s already there. If not, she’s on her way.

I still haven’t mailed Bob’s letter out yet, but I’ll be sure to say so when I do.

Of course, I haven’t heard from Mark, and I know he could be busy, it’s only been since last Friday or Saturday since he got my letter, but I don’t know. Maybe he will surprise me like Minnie did. When I do send Bob his nasty letter and he tells Minnie and maybe others about it, I’m sure she’ll call all about it.

No package yet from my parents. Maybe tomorrow.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1994 I still have lots to tell, so now’s as good a time as any. Remember the arts & crafts book Andy sent me under a bogus name? Well, I’m so very glad he sent it. Using an empty coffee can that is rectangular, I glued on a poster board around its sides. Then, I took 41 regular-size crayons and glued them around their sides. It was a perfect fit and it looks soooo cool. I glued on all the crayons so you could see the names of their colors.

I made 2 for us. One’s in my room and one’s out back by the computer. Then, I made 6 more for these people: Andy, my parents, Tammy & Bill, Lisa, Becky and Sarah. I’ll send them out as Chanukah presents, but Andy’s will be for his b-day. I also made a little crayon frame, by gluing crayons on a poster board, with Piggle’s picture in the center of it. He’s been here a year today.

I finally got new mascara and this stuff’s the best ever.

Got a letter from Bob today and when I return, I’ve got some wild stuff to write about him.

I probably won’t return any letters I get from Alex or Minnie, even though Tom said, “I hope you wrote her back,” after I got Minnie’s first letter. In fact, I’m not even going to tell him about the letter I’ll be sending Bob for a couple of reasons. Cuz I don’t want him to feel guilty or think something’s wrong with me that’s making me do this. This is my decision and my decision alone.

Assuming Mark’s like most people, he’ll never do what I politely asked him to do. Either way, I’m doing what I’ve been wanting to do for years, with Tom and Andy as an exception. That is to dump people. Believe it or not, this is easier for me to do now that I’ve got a life and my shit together. Cuz now I’m not as lonely and as desperate and can think and choose my words more rationally.

I copied the letter I typed up into 7. I don’t know when I’ll send it, as I kind of want to wait till I get enough letters to finish off the remaining 42 pages or so.

Anyway, it’s pretty nasty and cruel and I’m sure Kim and others will get an earful with several letters. I’m sure it’ll make him feel pretty miserable in the head and physically, but tough shit. The short letter basically says I found out he was convicted twice before for sex crimes, he can drop dead, his problems are all his fault, and that if he ever comes here I’ll kick his ass right back there.

Tom and his parents are at the racetrack now. I hope he makes some money.

Andy may be over later on.

Later…

Tom’s home now but he didn’t win any money.

Hurricane Gordon hit Florida, but Mom and Dad are OK.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1994 I have lots and lots of updating to do. I don’t remember if I mentioned this, although I must’ve. When we got our new camcorder, we also got some free gifts. There were 3 little puzzles, but they were all white, so you could write your own messages, break them up and send them to people to put together. They were a little bigger than postcards and they give you envelopes to go with them.

I sent one to Andy, one to my parents and one to Tammy and everyone there.

Andy returned the $20 he borrowed last night by slipping it in the mail slot.

I finished the wall mural in the living room. I drew a bird on a cactus, two palm trees with a hammock strung from both trees and a little girl sitting on it reading a book. Tom says the little girl looks like Barbara Streisand, but I don’t see it.

Last Saturday when we screwed around, we used a rubber for the sake of making sure nothing gets in the way of my surgery. I thought with that peace of mind, with or without surgery, he’d cum, but he didn’t. He said after the surgery we won’t use rubbers. I don’t think we’ll ever have to worry. If we ever do try to have a kid we’ll have to hope that his pre-cum is enough to get the job done. I also still believe in meant to be/not meant to be, so we’ll see.

I haven’t spoken to Kim since she left that message the other day and if she’s tried calling when no one was around to answer, I don’t know.

I got a letter from Bob yesterday and still don’t know when and if I’ll be dumping him. I’ll give it a little more time and see if I hear from Mark. I doubt I will, though, as most people don’t do favors for those they didn’t really know for too long and weren’t great friends with.

Today I got a letter and a birthday card from Alex. I threw the card out right in front of Tom. Why not dump him too? What’s the point? I do like to get letters, though, but we’ll see.

I still have a lot to write about, but I’m taking a break now.

Later…

Tammy left a message and I called her back. They admitted Bill into Bakus Hospital in Norwich. They say he may either have pneumonia or both that and cancer. She’ll keep me posted.

Today we went to play miniature golf. It was a lot of fun.

I’ve done a lot of shopping, too. I got two of the pens I’m writing with, these stickers that came in a package of several things, all in the style of ballerina bunnies. I got a pink glitter ruler with shapes for tracing. Three erasers in the shape of musical notes. One purple, pink and green. A notepad with the bunny sticker like on the next page on its cover. Identical stationery (8 sheets) and 4 envelopes in yellow, purple, pink and blue.

I got reinforcing rings for papers that go in binders. You stick them around the punched-out holes of papers that go in 3-ring binders to make them stronger. I got through to almost the end of journal 2 with them, then stuck the centers of the holes on the back of those envelopes for decoration. They’re really cool looking, with different colors that glitter.

I got thigh cream that you put on before you go to bed for $14. It’s supposed to reduce craters.

I got Chanukah cards for my parents, Tammy and her family, and Andy.

Today we filmed Piggles with the camcorder, then ran it through the video kit, as we do with Norah’s and printed out a few pictures. One’s in the back of this book on the very last page. We had a certain reason for it when we printed Piggle’s picture out, but I’ll explain it later.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1994 I got up at 2 AM and surprisingly there was a message from Kim that she left at 6:00 last night. To make things easier, I was kind of hoping she wouldn’t call. She said she’ll try calling back. I don’t mind talking to her on the phone, but I don’t want to see her.

Anyway, Tom awoke in a great mood a couple of hours ago. He just left for work for an hour and will be going back in for an hour this afternoon. In the meantime, they’re still going to pay him for a half day’s work at time and a half.

Tomorrow he may be in for most of the day.

Later…

I was starving so I made a TV dinner.

My waist is down to 24.5” so that’s good.

Right now I’m going to go work on the computer.

Later…

I just began an outline of a palm tree. On the living room wall where there are just the small table and coat rack, I want to do a huge wall mural of palm trees. I went outside and studied the palm trees out there to try to get it as realistic as possible. I’m going to wait until Tom gets back. With him being from here, he can give me the best advice and opinions.

God’s going to pay me back real good, no doubt, haha. This is because I woke up Tammy and my parents. I forgot there’s no school today and my parents don’t usually get up till 8:30 - 9:00.

Dad said that today he’s sending out a Chanukah package by UPS and asked when Tom’s birthday was.

Now I think I’ll go get something else to eat.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1994 I got about 20 of the above labels from some charity thing in the mail, so I use them as date separators. I wish they were the peel-and-stick kind, though.

Quite a bit has gone on over the last couple of days. Tom and I have had several talks. Once again the visit with Kim is off and as much as Tom always says, “You make your own choices. I’m not your daddy,” it’s something I chose to do for two reasons. One, cuz I believe in fairness and I know Tom wouldn’t do anything to make me feel uncomfortable. Two, cuz why not? It was no big deal for her to leave me all alone cooped up in that apartment in Deerfield all the time. I also don’t feel like I’m losing anything. Just her letters here and there. If it were Andy, my parents, Larry or Tammy, he’d have no problem and I know that for sure. He just never got over her waking him up when she was last here, even though he understands it wasn’t deliberate. Some people never get over or forget things. I’ll never get over or forget lots of shit either.

This morning we were in great moods, talking about all kinds of things; he thinks she’s coming today. I never did mention the message I left on her machine yesterday (her plane should be landing right now) saying it was time I level with her about why we both had a problem with her coming here and that all I could deal with is letters and phone calls. I also told her that if she didn’t want to remain friends anymore through the mail or by the phone, I’d understand and that I won’t call or write her unless she does.

As for Bob’s letters that I was going to give her, I guess they’re all going in no-postage-necessary envelopes for Andy to mail out. That is after I “delete” any traceable names.

I also sent a letter to Mark (Kim’s ex) asking if he can let me know if Bob’s been in jail before for the same thing he’s in for now. Tom mentioned that possibility, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see if I can come up with anything. For a while, I’ll be his pen pal, although his letters have slowed down. I’ll definitely give him the ax if I do hear any negative news from Mark, but I also might cuz he’s getting so boring. He’s just old news with the same old shit. All I really ever want for a friend is Andy.

Andy came and borrowed $20 one day when I was asleep and is so much happier at this new place and with being able to sleep late.

Later…

Tom had been telling me this last month that he was going to get me a present for me at work. Something someone was selling, I guess. I got it yesterday. They’re 8 folding postcards with flower stickers to seal them. The part you write on is all white and about the length of this page. 4 of the backs were green and white stripes and the other 4 were peach and white. I sent the peach ones to Andy, Lisa, Becky, and Sarah. I sent the green ones to Tammy, Bill, Mom & Dad, Bob, and Tom.

He also brought home a box of peanut butter cups and a box of mints that he got from Wendy’s daughter.

In other news, I work on continuous typing stuff for Tom. Stuff from magazines.

I’ve begun typing 23, the last New England journal. This one won’t be done as fast as 20-22 whereas it’s bigger and there are fewer charts, lyrics, etc. Wait till I get to 76. That one will probably be the longest.

Yesterday, all by myself while Tom was working, I printed out some pictures with no problems at all. They look really nice and tomorrow I may do more and hope I have the same luck as yesterday.

The exercising I’ve been doing very regularly has been showing and I’ve been weighing 99 pounds. I hope it lasts.

The back room looks better than it ever has. It’s really neat and organized.

I may or may not have mentioned that my folks sent us a brochure of their flea market. I didn’t realize it was such a mob scene. Also, they sold fish, birds and animals, as their personal business card said.

I’m glad Kim hasn’t called. She’s probably too pissed off to as she said she was going to call at noon before I left the message yesterday afternoon. It gets funnier, the more I think about it. There were so many times I wanted to give her what she gave me for abandoning me in Deerfield. The only nice thing I’ll remember is the financial help, the stuff she bought or gave me and her letters.

If I do ax Bob, and if I’m still writing to Minnie at that time, I’ll simply tell her the truth, but that she’s got to do what she’s gotta do.

What will I tell my family and Andy about Kim’s not coming? She just changed jobs and her mom’s sick. The truth is none of their business and I don’t want to discuss it over and over with so many people. Or to have them think that Tom made me do this. No one tells me what to do. It was my choice.

Alone or married, I’m more and more turned off by the idea of Bob coming out here once he’s released. He’s old news with the same old shit. My gut feeling tells me he may very well not live long enough to see freedom anyway.

Later…

I feel bad for Tom as he busted his ass doing the backyard and the patio cuz of Kim. It needed to be done, but he wouldn’t have had to do it all at once if we’d known I was going to call off her visit.

Anyway, I’m getting kind of tired so I’m going to go take my meds and lay down. I’ll be falling asleep real soon.

Cigna called. Gotta go for blood work and an EKG on December 1st between 8 AM - 4 PM.

I believe on the 24th we’re going to Dave and Evie’s for a Thanksgiving dinner.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1994 Not too much has gone on since I last wrote. We played around with the picture-printing program and just bummed around the place.

Andy left a message for Tom to borrow $20 if that was possible. He’s still in training and isn’t getting tips yet. As I was going to bed, he said he’d check the account and see if it was available.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 1994 I know I’ve been a bit sluggish with my writing lately, but I sure do have lots to tell. Amazingly enough, I’ve typed up journals 20, 21, and 22 in less than a week. Now I’ve only got one more east coast journal to do. That one will take a little longer cuz it’s bigger with fewer pages with letters, charts, lyrics, etc.

Here are the journal numbers I’ve typed up that total 300 pages. There are 34 altogether that I’ve typed: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 38, 39, 40, 41, 49, 51, 52, 53, 60, 62, 63, 77.

I typed up 61, which is a story. Here are the ones I will be typing up: 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 36, 37, 42, 43, 50, 55, 56, 58, 59, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69, 76, 78, 80, etc.

Here are the ones I won’t be typing up cuz they’re all letters or whatever: 23, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 54, 57, 65, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, and 75.

Later…

We all know I have a bad habit of doing things before I think about them, right? Well, last night I did something that I guess you could say was stupid. As Kim’s visit’s getting closer, I’ve been a little more anxious. As I’ve said before, though, Tom told me that I’m an adult, can and should make my own decisions, trusts my judgment, and that all married couples don’t always agree. This is very true, but instead, I called Kim and told her I couldn’t see her. After nearly 24 hours of thinking about it, I realized that disagreeing is one thing, and fighting about it is another. I believe we’re better than that now, neither of us wants to fight and we’ve gotten to know each other well enough to know we’d never set out to hurt one another. I’ll call her in a while and tell her how I took my anxiety out on her and am sorry for it and hope she can still see me.

Later…

I called and talked to Kim who understood that with her visit and the surgery, I panicked. She will be staying overnight at those people’s house, knows my schedule will be off and that I want to do only local stuff. She was on her way out and couldn’t talk too long, but said she saw Bob. She said he shaved his beard and mustache off and actually looked pretty good. Yes, she got the article from Minnie and couldn’t believe it, saying she felt like she was reading about a totally different person. When we see each other, she’ll fill me in more. On the 10th, she’ll be calling me from that house at about 11 AM.

Tom made some changes with the picture-printing program, so I think I’ll go see if I can whip up some fairly decent pictures.

Later…

Tom got up about an hour ago. I printed out some pictures and I intend to do more. Then we ate and played with Piggy.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1994 I just finished those 75 tips for Windows & DOS and am now printing them out.

Can you believe that two nights ago I typed up almost two journals? I decided to give it a try by typing up 20, one of the 4 NHA journals, telling myself I could stop if I needed or wanted to. I got through it OK and there were only 80 out of the 130 pages to type. I was so bored most of the time that I’d copy in charts, letters, and convos from tapes. Any stuff like that in any of my journals, I don’t bother typing. I had almost finished with 21, which had the same number of pages when I got all this garbage as I got a couple of times before. All these symbols and shit like that. Tom and I managed to save the bulk of it, but I had to retype some stuff. To get it out of the way before more trouble happened, I left out a few pages of trivial shit, like what I ate, what I was wearing, what shows I watched, etc. I can still swear that something doesn’t want me typing these journals. When I work on stuff for Tom, there’s never a problem. However, I have a mind of my own and am now working on 22.

Got a letter from Bob the other day and today we got an invitation to go to a housewarming party at Jackie’s. If I remember correctly, Jackie’s Tom’s aunt. I won’t be awake to go, and I don’t know if he’s going.

When I got up, I was sneezing pretty badly for a couple of hours. I even thought I had a cold. Andy’s over his cold and has had his third day of training at the new place. He’s happy so far.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 1994 We went to the fair Wednesday for two hours. It was lots of fun. A lot like the Big E. They even had that same yellow wavy slide. I got cotton candy and we both got ice cream. We went on the ski lift and the Ferris wheel.

For only $12 I got a lavender crepe skirt with a matching top. The top has white lace trim with a tiny purple satin ribbon in front, but it slides down really easily, and Tom says his mom won’t mind putting straps on it.

In a few months when the county fair comes, we’ll have to do the things we didn’t get to do this time around, like play games, go on the big yellow slide, go in the funhouse, and get me a caramel candy apple. I forgot to get one on my way out.

When we came home, we ordered a camcorder through Fingerhut that was over $1,000. I can’t wait, though, and it’ll arrive in about a week. Can’t wait to send videos of all kinds of things to my parents and Tammy and everyone. I’ll write more about it when we get it.

Got a letter from Minnie today. I wrote her back as well as Alex, Bob, and Kim. Yesterday I wrote to my parents, Tammy and Bill, and also stuck in a letter for my nieces. Did I mention that I typed a letter to Larry? Well, I did. He should get it Fri. or Sat.

Earlier I talked to Andy who’s got a cold and hasn’t started work yet due to it.

I printed out all 33 pages of 19 and now I’m going to go work on those Windows & DOS tips for Tom.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1994 Now I shall begin in journal 80, as 79 is all filled up with letters. Soon after I start 80, I’ll be listening to music, then crashing. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. I’m sure it’ll be lots of fun. Tomorrow, I may very well also finish typing up 19, then I’ll decide what to do from there. My movie should start recording soon.

Well, bye-bye for now, as I’m going to go start journal 80. After I finish 80, I’ll probably head to 81 as I really doubt I’ll be finishing that subindex as I mentioned before.

Later…

Wow! I can’t believe I’m already starting my 80th journal. This pen is going to die on me any time now and I really don’t have a whole lot to write about. I got all caught up in my previous book. Cuz we’re going to the fair tomorrow, I’m sure there’ll be lots to tell then.

I hope I get some mail tomorrow, too.

Anyway, I’m going to go and play me some tunes now, then make coffee and conk out. Tom will be waking up tomorrow at 10:30 unless I get up earlier.

Larry mentioned calling Tammy, but I forgot to ask her if he mentioned going to see her if possible since he will be working locally.

Did I remember to shut the computer off? Yeah, I’m sure I did, but I’ll double-check it when I get my lazy ass up and off this bed.

I still have to have Tom show me how to print envelopes, and maybe we can check out the possibilities of my editing on the computer. He said it’s not hard to do, but it’s very different than anything I’m used to.

Well, that’s all for now as I’m getting very tired and my hand’s killing me. I’ll write tomorrow evening.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 1994 I only copied 4 of the 12 songs on Gloria’s new CD. I also noticed an address for a fan club, so I requested information about it.

I just typed Larry and everyone else there a 2-page letter with all kinds of fonts.

Instead of going to the racetrack today, we’re going to go alone sometime, so I don’t have to be there for hours. I hope he wins money for the fair.

Andy got a job at a place called Caro’s if I spelled it right. He’ll be working the dinner hours, so we’ll no doubt see more of each other.

Later…

Tom didn’t win any money at the tracks today, but oh well. He took his parents there and they gave Tom a T-shirt, a buttonhole maker, and a really neat craft. It’s a crushed can with a face painted on it. It’s hard to describe, but it’s quite clever.

I spoke to Andy too, who’s psyched to start his new job.

After Tom came home, we ate, then fooled around. We also were both in the back room each working on a computer. He showed me how to change the colors of the Window’s title bar.

Can you believe I’ve only got about 40-something pages left of 19? After I finish typing 19, the next 4 will be my nightmare in the NHA. I’m deciding on whether or not I should skip them, or get them the hell over with. Tom said if he were me, he’d skip them. We’ll wait and see how I feel later.

No mail for me today. I haven’t been getting as much, but soon I’ll type letters to my parents, Kim and Bob. One last one for Kim till she gets here. I’ll have to call her to see if everything’s still set and where she’ll be staying. I’m not sure where she’ll be staying overnight.

Today I got some information from Tammy all about her computer. Yup, it is a piece of shit. Hopefully, we can send her games soon.

Later…

I just ate, watched a little TV, and left Andy a good luck message. I may not talk to him before he starts work at the new place.

Tom’s going to wake me up tomorrow at 10:30 and we probably won’t be back here till sometime late afternoon.

I’m glad I haven’t gotten around to typing anyone’s letters yet, as this way, I’ll have more to tell them.

For the fun of it, I’d really like to see a psychic and I hope they’re not too expensive. I also hope they’re better than the 900# psychics. They’re certainly quacks.

Let’s see… what kinds of questions shall I ask if I see one? Perhaps stuff like, will our marriage last forever? Will we have a kid? Will we have a successful business? Will we move and when? Will I be a singer and if so, how well-known will I be? Will I ever quit smoking forever?

Speaking of singing, I really got into it a while when Tom and I were in the back room.

[underfeddemonboy]

Hello you mentioned in your most recent post that you are hacking your metabolism by eating very small intermittent meals instead of one meal a day. Can you elaborate on that? I want to get better at this. My biggest fear going on T is getting big and fat and ugly. Thank you.

Hello!

So, what I mean is - I have my allotted calories for the day, right? Like for example, right now I’m restricting to around 1000/1200 a day (disclaimer: that’s what works for me for a sustainable, slow but steady weight loss, I’m just saying that to give an example, that number is different for anyone and being super honest, eating this much before t would’ve made me gain weight lol so just substitute that with whatever number you’re personally comfortable with), and I just kinda plan my day of eating around that - I try to never go more than three hours without eating something (usually more like two tho lol), even if it’s just something small like a handful of nuts or a single biscuit or a piece of candy or a fruit! This server the purpose of 1. Keeping my metabolism active by telling my body it’s gotta burn any food it gets because more will come as soon as it’s done using that up and 2. Keeping myself in a state of that empty, hungry feeling without going full into ravenous/starving (I /hate/ feeling full, it makes me feel gross, but I also fucked too much with heavy restriction when I was a young teen and now I can’t go to that level of hunger without it leading to an involuntary binge), for that reason I always have some type of snack on me at all times lol - it doesn’t have to be a prepackaged snack, it can literally be some nuts you put in a bag, a slice of bread in plastic wrapping, a fruit, whatever you can get away with wrapping up and stuffing in a bag/backpack/pocket. Either way, I do that because ideally, I have a schedule I like to keep to (a hearty breakfast, depending on whether I’m waking up early or late some kind of light snack after, then lunch around 12am to 1pm (research says that the “no lunch after 2pm” rule is bullshit but… I personally am terrified of it lol), then after that I try not to eat anything until my 4/5pm snack (sooner or later depending on when lunch was), and then I’ll probably be grazing on something small all the way until dinner, which I keep at around 7/8pm - honestly if you’re staying up very late I’m pretty sure you can get away with after-dinner snacks as long as the timing and quantity is right, I just personally have a rule to not eat anything after dinner not just for ED reasons, but also because I have very bad GERD and I like to make sure my stomach is fully empty before I sleep so I don’t have acid up my throat all night) and if any of it gets disrupted in any way because life's just like that sometimes, I can still have something on me to fill that "put something in you once every three hours" gap and give me more time until i'm able to actually eat what i had planned to.

I get that snacking can feel daunting, but if you prepare your snacks beforehand and already know the calorie amount of the whole thing, and add that up to your daily intake and gradually pick at it through the day, as long as you stick to that it will be fine - honestly I personally enjoy this a lot more than eating something whole in one go, because that way I can enjoy it for longer, I don’t get the gross “full” feeling that makes me feel guilty after, and I know it all serves to keep my metabolism up.

Last thing I’d say is, like I mentioned I keep my meals sliding scale - aka, I generally try to have the most food at once earlier in the day, and as I go through the day slowly decrease (after all, if food is fuel, what do you need it for if the day is almost over? I think of it kinda like tipping up a fuel tank, you wouldn’t put in more than you need but you need to stay in this sweet spot where the body doesn’t think it needs to save fuel for a famine, so if you want to have a cheat meal/food, earlier in the day is best since that will still act as fuel), and like I said if you pick from the same pre-portioned snacks you already know how much it takes up in your caloric intake, but if you add any extra you can just remove a little bit from your next meal.

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No. 

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

~

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

~

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again. 

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

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

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.” 

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

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

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

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

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around. 

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred. 

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder. 

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

[humanwheatleyslefttoenail]

why do you ship chell and glados if glados is basically her mom

Okay this is actually a pretty common misconception in the fandom that unfortunately a lot of people have taken as canon, but I’m feeling nice so I’ll answer your question.

Basically, anon is referencing a theory from around 2012 that Caroline is Chell’s mom. The evidence for the theory is as follows:

- The turret opera calls Chell “bambina”, which means “little girl” in Italian

- Chell’s name can be found on a Bring Your Daughter To Work Day science project

- GLaDOS references the possibility of Chell being adopted multiple times

- GLaDOS is significantly nicer to Chell after discovering she’s Caroline 

And, anon, you’re right, it does sound like a pretty good argument at first glance. The problem is that a lot of these points don’t actually hold up to scrutiny.

For example, although “bambina” literally translates to “little girl,” it’s often used in the same way “baby girl” is used in English - it can mean child, but contextually it’s usually a flirtatious term. (Source: Cambridge Dictionary)

For Chell’s science project, it doesn’t work as evidence for the theory because GLaDOS killed the scientists around 1998-ish, when Caroline had presumably been uploaded several years earlier and Cave was already dead. Also, Chell’s in her 20′s, and since we know from Lab Rat/Portal 2 that people don’t age in stasis, and that Doug put Chell at the top of the test subject list only weeks after the takeover, Chell was 28 at the time of the takeover. The science project is really only an Easter egg and doesn’t actually fit into the canon timeline let alone prove anything about Caroline and Cave. 

GLaDOS talking about Chell being adopted is a pretty strong point, I’ll admit, but also it’s important to remember that maybe half of what GLaDOS says is true. And even if we take what she says at face value, she also says there’s a man and a woman in stasis with Chell’s last name, which could not have been Cave and Caroline because they were already dead at that point. And the official book Final Hours Of Portal 2 confirms Cave and Caroline were not married and could not have shared the same name anyway. It was also the 50′s, an an unmarried couple of two likely famous people having a child would’ve been scandalous, and yet we see no hint of something like this affecting their company. 

Also, although GLaDOS is nicer to Chell after the Caroline reveal, that’s not necessarily indicative of a mother-daughter relationship, and neither is any of their interactions. It’s just. GLaDOS being friendlier. 

Finally, when this theory was made (and let’s be honest - it still is happening) Chell was constantly whitewashed to hell and back. 

Chell is Japanese-Brazilian, and Cave and Caroline are white, so it would be a near impossibility for her to be their biological child (and insisting otherwise is kinda. just. whitewashing). And although people will cry “adoption!”, based on what I’ve previously proven, that’s pretty much impossible. This theory that somehow she’s Cave and Caroline’s daughter erases an important part of her identity. [Disclaimer, I am white, but this is what I’ve heard from around the fandom]

With all that said, the idea that she’s the daughter of Cave and Caroline really doesn’t hold weight when you really analyze the canon. It’s surface level analysis that doesn’t hold up. And honestly? The idea kinda cheapens the story. It’s much more powerful that GLaDOS learns to care about Chell and becomes kinder than just. Oh, she remembered she’s related to Chell. 

But to actually answer your ask. 

Why do I ship them?

Well, they aren’t mother and daughter, I think that’s pretty obvious now. But if you actually look at a lot of subtext in Portal 2, without the lens of the mother theory, it’s actually pretty romantic! 

I know that sounds ridiculous, but bear with me!

Now - it’s totally okay if you don’t ship them. I get it. Their interactions in Portal 1 and the first half of Portal 2 are toxic if not outright well. Y’know. Murderous. I completely understand why that turns people off from shipping them, and ultimately, shipping is a personal thing. To each his own. 

But before you judge me, let me present my case.

Exhibit A: Portal 

Portal is kinda gay. No, really. Chell and GLaDOS are enemies in this game, but the entire focus is on their relationship (good or not) and the power struggle between them. They are opposites, two sides of the same coin, different representations of opposite ideologies. People have analyzed Portal as a relationship metaphor, or as a metaphor about women’s role in society - either way, the heart of Portal is the complicated dynamic between Chell and GLaDOS. 

That’s not necessarily enough to code a romance, but a lot of popular (and especially popular queer ones) ships begin with opposite ideologies, symbolic powers colliding. Portal cements their relationship as a toxic one, something on the verge of falling apart and hurting both parties in the end. The ending image, of Chell and GLaDOS side by side after the battle, reinforces the symbolic parallels between the two. 

The companion cube is also pretty symbolically important to this interpretation. It’s literally a representation of someone’s heart, and you are told to protect it and preserve it under GLaDOS’ orders, and then you have to destroy it regardless of how you actually feel about doing that. You are destroying GLaDOS’ heart, so to speak. 

There’s also the ending song, Still Alive. The lyrics speak for themselves.

They hint that GLaDOS’ feelings about Chell are more complicated than they may appear (if she’s not being sarcastic...) and she literally talks about Chell breaking her heart (also, think back to the companion cube. Yeah.). The entire song is structurally similar to many a breakup number, with the laments of “I’m glad it happened, but also leave.” 

At the end, we also see that the long promised cake GLaDOS was supposedly lying about was real the whole time. Before Portal 2 came out, it was mostly interpreted as a stinger ending (along with the nicer lyrics of Still Alive) to make you question GLaDOS’ true motives and intentions.

She actually did have a real cake waiting for you. (Side note - not really evidence, but in Argentina, “torta” means cake in Spanish. It’s also a slang term for lesbians. So. Do with that what you will). The cake is what GLaDOS offers you to lull you into the sense that she cares about you, so discovering that “the cake is a lie” wakes you up to the realization that she doesn’t. Except then the idea is subverted one last time, at the very end, showing that the cake is real and at least some of what she said she meant. 

You also see the companion cube. You know, GLaDOS’ symbolic heart?

Now, okay, you might be thinking I’m extrapolating a bit too much. And you might be right. But Portal is not the only game in the series, and if you’re asking me about Cave and Caroline you obviously know about Portal 2.

Exhibit B: Portal 2

If you thought Portal was gay, Portal 2 turns that up to 11.

Even before GLaDOS wakes up, you’re treated to some visual subtext. A few of Rattmann’s drawings representing the events of Portal 2 focus a lot on the relationship between GLaDOS and Chell, with more of the cake symbolism.

In this, you can see a face layered on top of GLaDOS. This could be foreshadowing about Caroline, and likely is, but also resembles his other drawing of Chell. It insists that Chell is a part of GLaDOS, or reinforces parallels between Chell and Caroline, hinting at something either way. 

In this picture, we also see Chell standing on top of GLaDOS, in the same position where the overlay of the feminine face was, again referencing the parallel. It also presents them as opposites, fundamental parts of the same thing and both connected to the same basis, but on opposing sides. 

When GLaDOS wakes up, she returns to her antagonistic role, but there are more hints to something deeper just like in Portal. 

Here, in her awakening lines, she references Chell not unlike an estranged ex. Also worth noting that GLaDOS is pretty much the personification of testing (in a sense, she is testing since she can control all of Aperture like an extension of her body), and insinuates that Chell loves to test. And that she reciprocates that feeling.

In test chamber 10, she says this:

It’s supposed to be threatening, but it does read as almost... sentimental. 

There’s also another chamber with companion cubes in Portal 2. I already talked about their symbolism in Portal, and the same pretty much applies to them here. However, GLaDOS says something interesting about them during this level:

Once again, meant to be intimidating, ends up coming off as “well, GLaDOS, why were you going to give Chell a heart shaped representation of yourself that says ‘I love you?’” And you might think I’m stretching the GLaDOS’ heart metaphor thing a little far here, and I might agree, if the companion cubes didn’t literally sing Cara Mia for you. 

Cara Mia is the turret opera from the end of the game, which is all about how much GLaDOS cares about Chell. More on that later. But the companion cubes play a song called Love as A Construct, and when you get close to them, they sing a specific part of the song that has the tune of Cara Mia. These things literally exist to sing about GLaDOS’ feelings. 

Which makes this line a lot more. For lack of a better term. Tsundere-ish.

Then, right before the escape, she starts talking about the confetti from her fake surprise. 

I really don’t have to explain this one. What else does GLaDOS consider an inconvenience but might miss anyway? Or, more aptly, who else?

Then, during the escape, she teases a (fake) final test chamber in front of you, and forms the panels in the shape of a heart. No, really. 

Up to this point, a lot of the points I’ve presented are interspersed with a fair amount of antagonization on GLaDOS’ behalf, more Foe Yay than anything actually hinting at something deeper than GLaDOS being conflicted about whether she loves or hates Chell. But things really ramp up after Wheatley’s betrayal, when the two of them are forced to team up. (I should also note here that “enemies to lovers” is a pretty classic queer romance trope.)

Here, GLaDOS is put on an equal level with Chell and they have to rely on each other if they want to survive. For the rest of the singleplayer campaign, GLaDOS becomes a lot nicer and even friendly to Chell. There comes a point where she starts referring to Chell as a teammate, calling them “we.” She begins to consider them one unit, two opposites unified. Here’s what she says after the lemon rant:

You can not only see her using we, but actively talking about how her and Chell are going to fight Wheatley together. There’s also that last line - “let’s explode with some dignity.” GLaDOS has fully accepted the very likely possibility that she and Chell might die together. That she might die on the same level, and the same team as Chell. And she seems... surprisingly okay with that, as long as she and Chell go together. 

It’s during the Old Aperture levels that Chell and GLaDOS also discover that they have a lot in common. This is the part of the game where GLaDOS figures out she’s Caroline, that she’s human. Or, that she’s like Chell. And Chell discovers (from what we can tell anyway) that Caroline is kind, that she’s funny and smart and so many of these things she never noticed about GLaDOS before. Now also with the knowledge she is fighting alongside another human being. 

You can also draw parallels between Chell and Caroline, both intelligent women ultimately betrayed by their seemingly innocuous male friends before being trapped in Aperture and forced to team up with one another in a way that will free both of them. We see that really, GLaDOS isn’t that different from Chell - she too has been imprisoned in this place against her will, but in a completely different way. Once again, the idea of two sides of the same coin applies here. 

I’ve written another meta about this before, but I also think the whole idea of repressing a part of your identity and hating it, before bonding with another woman and then realizing that it’s okay to be like her and to be on her side. It’s okay to be yourself and meeting her is what helps you discover this new part of yourself. Is kinda inherently gay. GLaDOS’ discovery of her own humanity just fits so well into a queer realization narrative, to me at least.

Then, Chell and GLaDOS escape Old Aperture and have to get through Wheatley’s tests. 

Here, GLaDOS isn’t just begrudgingly on Chell’s team. She’s actively helpful. She wants to help Chell solve tests, defends her from Wheatley’s insults, and makes jokes to lighten the mood. Things that can really only be explained by her caring about Chell, especially the part about the insults. See below.

After the two escape Wheatley’s testing track, right before the boss fight GLaDOS has a few other things to say.

GLaDOS is not going to betray Chell, because of some kind of conscience. But she could easily ignore that back in her body, and yet? Here she’s deciding not to, and for no good reason. She didn’t have to say that to Chell, but she did, because she cares and she wants Chell to live.

And then, moments before the fight:

The final lines imply that GLaDOS does not think of Chell as an enemy anymore, and that it doesn’t matter what Chell thinks because they are in this together and they are getting revenge together. It’s pretty heartwarming to be honest, to know that even in a fight that will almost certainly kill you, she is there rooting for you and caring about you, even if you don’t feel the same way about her. It no longer matters to GLaDOS whether you even reciprocate - you staying alive, you making it through is enough for her.

So Chell fights Wheatley and sends him into space, all well and good, and at this point, GLaDOS has the option to kill Chell. But not only does she not, she actively saves Chell, and holds her hand in the process. If you don’t believe me:

And not only that, but when Chell goes unconscious from her injuries, GLaDOS sits and waits for her to wake up. It’s also implied that GLaDOS carries her to the elevator, since it’s where she wakes up but not where she passed out. In the scene where Chell blacks out, you can also hear the part of Love As A Construct that sounds like Cara Mia. Yeah. Yeah.

If you think that this cannot possibly get any gayer, you are wrong again, because then GLaDOS makes her final speech. Which is really just a love confession, let’s be honest.

The “surge of emotion?” Do you mean love, GLaDOS? And the idea of GLaDOS considering Chell her best friend, despite everything these two have done to each other? The idea that GLaDOS, out of all people, forgives someone?

Except this isn’t even Chell’s final send-off. GLaDOS writes her an entire opera of turrets, that sing a literal love song. (Note what I said earlier about the use of the word “bambina”).

It really can’t get any more obvious than that. “My (affectionate romantic term here), my dear, I adore you.” How. Is. That. Heterosexual. In. Any. Way.

So Chell goes to the surface, set free by GLaDOS (think of the saying “if you love something, set it free), and you think that’s the end. Until GLaDOS gives you a companion cube so you aren’t alone on the journey, and from the burn marks, you know it’s your first companion cube. Her original heart, her first gift to you, a piece of her that she wants you to carry with you to remind you that she does care about you after everything. It also gives the lyrics to Still Alive a much more genuine meaning. 

Portal 2 ends, and then the ending song, another GLaDOS number plays. Just like Still Alive, Want You Gone is structurally a break up song and very obviously about GLaDOS missing Chell and “counting on” (read: caring about/loving) Chell’s tendencies and quirks. 

She’s accepted Chell completely, and yet also given Chell the one thing she wants most. Only wanting Chell gone can mean GLaDOS not wanting Chell in her life anymore, but can also mean she wants to give Chell the freedom she’s wanted for so, so long. It’s the best thing she can give.

In the co-op campaign, GLaDOS also references still caring about Chell.

And that’s the end of the Portal series. Except. Brace yourself. Despite the games being over, there is STILL more subtext somehow. It gets. Even gayer.

Exhibit C: Supplemental Evidence

Valve has made a lot of extra/cut content for the Portal series, and I’ll be looking at some of it below.

This official valentine from Valve shows GLaDOS offering a romantic partner cake, which as we’ve established before, is very symbolic of GLaDOS’ feelings about and/or relationship with Chell. 

There’s a lot of other concept art and official art that emphasizes their relationship too. See below.

There’s also some cut GLaDOS lines that are even gayer than the source material and again, sound like confessions or references to a breakup:

The idea of “discovering things about someone”... how much more obvious can it get?

The developers have even confirmed a lot of my commentary on Chell and GLaDOS’ relationship in The Final Hours Of Portal 2. See these quotes from the book/this post:

The devs literally describe it as a romance. They use terms like “cheating,” they wanted to write a romantic duet, JoCo purposefully wrote the endings like love songs. It is literally, blatantly said by the creators of the game that their relationship is interpreted romantically. By the creators of the game. 

And if Word of God confirmation isn’t enough for you, have a song written for a cut alternate ending by GLaDOS’ voice actress, Ellen McClain. The song is literally nothing but GLaDOS talking about caring about Chell, about not wanting her to die/leave GLaDOS alone, about wanting to bake a cake with Chell, about waiting for Chell to wake her up. It’s so genuinely sweet and sad, and really, really romantic in the most heartwrenching way possible. 

JoCo also came back for the Portal levels in Lego Dimensions, writing one final breakup song for GLaDOS to sing about Chell. It comes off as GLaDOS not wanting to admit she misses Chell even though she obviously does, trying to replace their relationship but failing, and even explicitly forgiving Chell/wanting her to come back.

Also, the “finally I understand,” as if only now GLaDOS understands just how deep her feelings for Chell are... What else can I say?

In Lego Dimensions, GLaDOS also outright rejects anyone who isn’t Chell.

In Conclusion:

Why do I ship Chell and GLaDOS? 

Well, ultimately, it doesn’t matter whether I ship them. 

Because I think it’s glaringly obvious Portal does.

[i-cant-sing]

Promise: Yandere Godfather Hawks x Todoroki reader

This is a side story takes place in the YRHR series, after part 1, when the reader returns home, blind.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"Y/n... Come on, wake up. Its 9 already." You heard him say, feeling the bed dip as he sat on it, gently touching the back of your shoulder. "Aren't you hungry? Mom's making your favourite."

When you gave no response, Shotou pulled the covers away from your face, his brows furrowing at the bandages around your eyes that had loosened up. You had did that, clawing at the meticulously tight knot Natsuo had done; you didn't like how it settled on your eyes.

"You're awake, right?" The only answer he got was you turning your cheek further away from him when he tried to caress it. Shotou didn't like your silence and he missed it when you used to ramble about almost anything to him. He missed when you were happy.

The door bell rang.

Shotou looked at his watch confused. Wasn't Natsuo supposed to come around at 11? He could hear Enji walking to the main door, and after a few seconds of silence, he heard footsteps coming towards your room. But then he heard some scuffling, and people talking- he recognised Enji's and Dabi's voices, his brother's getting louder by the second.

"I'll check who's there. Stay."

Stay? You would've rolled your eyes if, you know, you still had them.

A few more minutes passed and you could hear Dabi arguing with someone, and you think that Shotou is trying to calm him down. Deciding to take advantage of the situation, you got up from the bed. For the past whole month, Shotou would come to wake you up everyday, carrying you in his arms to the bathroom, never letting you walk on your own, claiming "you'll get hurt".

Idiot.

Taking one small step at a time, you stretched your arms out trying to reach the wall. Once you felt the cold, smooth surface, you used it to guide you towards the door.

No matter what you did, or how many times you told them to back off, that you can do this on your own, they wouldn't let you. Hell, you were pretty sure that if they could, they would breathe for you too. As if trying to instil in your mind that you're helpless without them, incapable of making your own decisions.

I'll show them how fucking capable I am.

After stubbing your toe only once, you finally reached the door, your hand gripping the metal knob. You placed your ear on the door, trying to figure out who and where everyone is standing. The corridor seemed empty and you think everyone is downstairs.

Opening the door, you used another wall to guide you towards the stairs. You hoped Shotou doesn't see you; he'd throw a hissy fit at you attempting to walk down the stairs.

As you took one careful step at a time, you heard the commotion grow louder. You could hear Dabi yelling profanities at the other person, certainly not Enji because Rei or Fuyumi would've stepped in by now to stop him. You used to stop him too, but ever since what happened, you don't really care anymore.

"Why the fuck are you even here?! She doesn't fucking want to see you!"

"Dabi-!"

"And who is gonna stop me? You? I'd be happy to knock you down on your ass- its about goddamn time!"

"Hawks!"

Hawks?

Hawks.

Hawks!

You almost stumbled down the last few steps, but you needed to know- was he, was he really here?

"K-Keigo?"

You heard his wings flap before you felt him, the wind gushed at your body strongly, making you lose your balance. But muscular arms wrapped around you before you could fall, and the winged hero lifted you up and spun you around, making you burst into laughter.

Rei was the first one to cry.

You laughed.

Not a bitter, sarcastic one.

A genuinely happy laugh.

And she missed her baby's laugh so much.

Dabi's eyes widened slightly. His heart clenching up a bit as he realised how he missed that beaming look on your face. He realised how fucking naive you were, how you were his little sister that he needed to protect.

Shotou felt envy. Why- why didn't you laugh like that with him? Why didn't you laugh for him? Was he... not a good brother?

Fuyumi actually rushed out of the kitchen when she heard you, her hands coming up to her mouth to suppress the sob that was building up. Too long. It had been too long since you were happy.

Natsuo smiled. He smiled as he saw you chortle when the hero's feathers tickled your cheek. He wished you would smile more often.

Enji's breath hitched as he saw you chuckle into Hawk's shoulder. It was so natural, so lively, so radiant. He had been dying to hear that sweet sound again.

Your heart was beating fast and your stomach was doing somersaults as you felt the air rushing through your hair and cooling on to your neck, the soft feathers brushing across your skin.

He really was here.

But so were they.

And you could feel their eyes on you.

Keigo frowned when he saw you curl yourself into him, as if trying to bury yourself into his chest. When he looked around, he saw them glaring and that's when he puffed out his wings before curling them around you; shielding you.

"I'll be spending time with my goddaughter. Do not disturb us." And with that, Hawks flew you up to your room, locking the door before they could sat anything. He could hear Dabi arguing, but he trusted Enji to handle him.

He set you on your bed, chuckling as you didn't let go of his collar.

"Its okay, dove. I'm here, now- ow!" You cut him off by punching his arm.

"Where were you?!"

"In your heart- ow! Stop hitting me!" He caught your wrists.

"You said you were gonna visit me at home! Its been a whole month-"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry but believe me, I really was busy!" Sighing, he continued. "The hero commission sent me to Europe for a mission and things got a bit messy, so I got caught up."

Yanking your hands out of his grip, you scowled. "Would it have killed you to call?"

"I mean I wouldn't say kill, but I probably could've lost a limb or two-" He started laughing when when you began getting up to walk to the door.

Keigo wrapped his arms around you, smiling cheekily"Y/n- I'm sorry, I'm just kidding. Come back-"

"No, let go! I don't have time for your bullshit" He continued laughing, easily picking you up and dropping you back on your bed.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Come on, now. Stop being mad." You heard him shuffling. "Besides, I've got something for you!"

He dropped something in your lap. You picked an item, your hands feeling around it, trying to figure out what the rectangular shaped box was.

"Whats this?"

"Oh, here. Let me help you." He lifted the lid of the box and you were immediately hit by a familiar smell.

"Chocolate?"

He hummed in confirmation"Your favourite ones too! They were always sold out! Luckily, I was able to use my charm on the owner."

"Charm? Oh, you mean where you pull that ugly smirk and do that half lidded look with your eyes, and you think that you look hot but you actually just look creepy?"

"Yeah- hey!"

And then the next 3 hours were spent like that, Hawks telling you about Europe and the bad guys he caught, you telling him about the way your family had been treating you.

"They don't let me do anything, they don't give me any privacy! Its like- its like they want me to be a doll!" You gave an exasperated sigh. "They- they act like they are being so generous. Like it was somehow my fault that my eyes got fried!"

"Oh come on. They can't be that bad-"

"They are! So much worse than before. Look, I'm a grown up- I need my space too! You know what Shotou said when I asked him to get me a walking stick? He said I don't need one since he can carry me everywhere. Do you know how embarrassing it is to get carried to the toilet every single day? Do you?!"

"Well, no-"

"And then Fuyumi cuts up my food and spoon feeds me herself! I know I'm blind but its not like I'm gonna stuff the food up my nose or something!"

The hero snickered at that.

"And then Enji reads me these novels or the newspaper and he skips over the parts he thinks I'm too "young" or "immature" to understand! They even monitor what I listen to! Fuyumi or Shotou would be quick to change the channel if something above pg 10 comes on!" You ran a hand through your hair frustratedly. "I asked Enji to get me a Braille and the first few time he pretended like he didn't hear me, before finally saying that I don't need one!"

"Don't worry, I'll sneak in a Braille for dummies the next time I visit."

"Hey-! Wait... what do you mean "next time"?"

"Oh come on! I promise I'll come earlier next time. Maybe in like 2 weeks-"

"No."

"What-"

"No. I want to leave this place today. You promised."

"Y/n-"Keigo reached to place a hand on your shoulder but you pushed him off.

"You. Promised. You said you'll get me out of here when I leave the hospital" You inhaled deeply. "Well, guess what, Hawks? Its been a whole month."

"I know but you're not well enough-"

"I AM! If anything, staying here is harming me more!" Your tone was getting angrier. "You said- you said you would take me away from them."

"I can't do it right now. The hero commission needs me-"

"I need you! Or am I just not worth your time?"

"Please, dove- try to understand. How will I take care of you if I'm out at the agency?"He tried to pet your head but you smacked his hand away, snarling at him.

"You're a liar. A big fucking liar! Was this the plan all along? To give me hope that you'll save me, only to fucking crush it?!" The hero managed to dodge the box of chocolates you threw at him. "I don't need fucking chocolate or your stupid presents. I need to get out of this goddamn house!"

The hero began walking towards the door. "You're not thinking rationally- I'll- I'll leave." But before the hero could manage to take another step, you were leaping towards him, but since you couldn't see, you only managed to fall near his feet. When he grabbed your shoulders to help you up, you were quick to latch onto him, wrapping your arms around his torso tightly.

"No- no! Don't go. Please, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. Please, don't be mad. I swear I'll behave, just don't leave me here!" Your hold onto him was becoming painfully tight.

Keigo felt like someone was breaking his heart piece by piece as he looked at you. The way your body shook from your pitiful sobs, the way you held onto his jacket as if your life depended on it- he was forced to remember how vulnerable you looked the night he brought you back to the this house. The same night when you begged and begged him to fly you away, that you'll do anything as long as he didn't dropped you back at the Todoroki estate.

"Y/n- darling, love, listen to me. I promised you that I'll keep you save, didn't I? I promise I'll come back soon-"

"YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE! CAN'T YOU SEE WHAT SHE'S DONE TO ME! SHE BURNED MY FUCKING EYES HAWKS! I'M FUCKING BLIND! DO I NEED TO LOSE A LIMB FOR YOU TO GET ME OUT OF HERE?! DO I HAVE TO SUFFER FROM ANOTHER "ACCIDENT"?!"

Hawks knew that bitch Rei did this on purpose, he knew and it killed him that he couldn't save you from her. He wanted to tell you that he believed you, and he was preparing a place for you. But the hero knows your siblings were eavesdropping, right on the other side of the door.

He had to be careful and play the fool if he wanted to get you out of this hell hole.

"Y/n please-"

You shook your head repeatedly, pulling him closer to you as you shrieked at him. "No. NO! I wont let you go! I WON'T LET YOU LEAVE WITHOUT ME! Keigo, I'm begging you! Take me with you, please! I'll die! I'll die! I'LL FUCKING DIE, KEIGO! PLEASE!"

Your loud screams had your siblings bursting through the door, obviously using a spare key. "Y/n, whats wrong-" You jumped away when they touched your shoulder, giving Hawks chance to slip away.

You instantly reached out for him, flailing your arms around to get a hold of him again. But the hero was already out the door and your siblings quickly pulled you back into their arms, shushing you, trying to calm you down.

But you were inconsolable. Thrashing around in Shotou's arms, you kept begging for Hawks to come back. "HAWKS COME BACK! LET ME GO! HAWKS, PLEASE! I'LL DIE! I'LL DIE! I'LL DIE!" It pained them to see you like this, so hysterical; Shotou and Fuyumi whispered sweet nothings but you payed them no mind. Natsuo knew you were going to hyperventilate soon, but he was more worried about you bursting a vessel in your head.

Thinking fast, he quickly brought up a tranquilliser- and the moment the sharp smell of the alcohol swab hit your nose, you were wrestling harder to get out Shotou's and Fuyumi's arms.

"Y/n, please calm down-"

"FUCK YOU! LET ME GO! KEIGO! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! COME BACK- STOP! STOP TOUCHING ME! STOP!" You screamed louder than before when you felt her cold hands gripping your arm, holding it still so that your brother could administer the dose.

As the drug began taking effect, your thrashing slowed down before you finally slumped into Shotou's arms. The tranquilliser numbed the headache that was forming, and you felt Fuyumi use a tissue to wipe the snot and the spit off your face.

"I'll die... I'll die... And you won't be there. And I'll die..."

Hawks was in a trance like state as he watched Shotou tuck you under the covers. He wanted to use his sharp feathers to slice off that cold bitch's hand that brushed the hair out of your face, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your daunting screams rang through his ears; his chest felt like some was shoving a knife through it slowly as he played back the image of you trying to wring yourself free from their arms, one hand still reaching out for him. It took everything in him not to grab it and pull you away from those monsters, but he had to remind himself of the bigger picture.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the pyromaniac standing next to him until he spoke.

"This is all your fault."

Hawks looked at Dabi. His fault?

"You shouldn't have come here."

"She's my goddaughter-"

"Shut the fuck up." Dabi narrowed his eyes at the hero. "She's like this because you gave her false hope. Hope, that one day she'll get away from us. You and I both know that's not gonna happen." He sighed before continuing. "You call yourself a hero, but in reality, you're no better than us."

As Hawks turned to leave, not willing to let the villian get on his nerves, Dabi spoke again.

"Dont bother coming back. She won't forgive you. She'll never forget this betrayal."

Hurtful as they were, he knew the words he said were true.

Hawks was almost out the gates when he saw Enji sitting in the garden, looking at the koi pond. He should've left, should've flown away but there was something in Enji's eyes that had the winged hero walking towards him. He recognised the emotion as soon as he got close.

Sorrow.

Or was it guilt?

Perhaps a mixture of both.

"Endeavour, are you... alright?"

The number 1 hero looked away from the fish and blinked at him.

"Hawks? What are you still doing here?"

The blonde chuckled nervously. "I was just on my way out." He gazed at him. "Are you okay? You seem to be in deep thought."

Enji only stared at him. Taking his silence as the answer, Hawks turned to leave.

"Why did you come here today, Keigo?"

Keigo.

He suppressed the urge to shudder the way his name rolled off his tongue.

"She's my goddaughter too. Why? Do you think it was a bad decision to come?"

"No." Enji sighed. "I just- she hadn't laughed like that in a long time."

Hawks stood beside him. "She's still traumatised from the kitchen accident. Its understable-"

"No. She hadn't laughed like that for a long time, even before this happened." Enji's eyes moved towards the night sky. The stars were twinkling extra bright tonight. How he wished you could see it. "Before she lost her sight, she used to look out the window, her eyes searching sky." He gulped. "She was looking for you, Keigo. You- you made her happy, you make her laugh. I don't."

Hawks placed his hand on Enji's shoulder. "That's not true, Enji. You do make her happy. She loves you. She feels safe with you. She sees you as her protector."

"She does?"

He nodded. "Of course. If you want things to return to normal, you need to treat her normally too. Just- just talk to her. Sort out the issues and wash away whatever fears she has." Hawks wanted Enji to listen to you, to really listen to you and protect you from Rei. He could only hope that Enji understood what he meant.

Hawks was right, Enji realised. Whatever delusions you have of Rei wanting to hurt you on purpose, of being the "bad person", they can all be cleared up if he just talked to you. Ever since the incident, the family avoided talking to you about Rei or the events that had occurred that day.

If he just talked to you, things will return to normal. You'll become happy again.

"Thank you, Keigo."

Hawks only smiled in return. "I'll be leaving now."

"Okay. When will you visit again?"

"I'll be gone for longer now. The hero commission is sending me on another mission again."

"Oh. Safe travels, then."

As Hawks flew away, he began thinking about the house.

The house where he was going to take you to soon. He just needs to add a few finishing touches before he sets his plan in motion. The plan to rescue you, and eventually Enji, from those sadist that call themselves your family.

He will not let his dove get hurt again.

He'll save you this time.

He promises.

Thoughts?

Idk how this turned out, angst wasn't the plan initially. Guess I'll write godfather Hawks fluff for another day.

Anyways, now that this is done, I'll start working on RE 8 fic now.

[strawberryspence]

A Dinner and A Future

Fluff | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer just wants your first date to be perfect and surprisingly, it goes really well.

Word Count: 3,7k.

Warnings: some cursing, first date nerves, but that's it. just pure mindless fluff.

Writer’s Note: Hello! I've been going through a writing dry spell and the thing that solved it was writing this. I've been seeing a lot of edits on tiktok about Spencer's traumas and I just wanted to give him something simple and happy. I was also listening to Kodaline on repeat while reading this, so yeah it's going be hella sappy. Enjoy! <3

Gif is mine. Lesley Smith-Juniment, you have my heart.

Spencer is nervous.

Wait no, scratch that, nervous is not good enough. He was brimming to the edge with worry and queasiness. What other synonyms does nervous have? Spencer was antsy, anxious, perturbed, uneasy, at this point he can recite the whole thesaurus.

Spencer closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe. He can do this. He has waited for this for a long time and he won’t waste it because of burnt pasta.

Okay, he looks back at the note that David Rossi himself wrote in his own special handwriting.

1. Cook 1 pound pasta until Al Dente. Boy Genius, Al Dente should be firm when bitten. You cook it on a boiling water with salt and oil. SALT AND OIL.

2. While that’s cooking, do nothing. LITERALLY DO NOTHING. Watch it. Do the sauce later. In some miraculous way, if you don’t watch the pasta you’ll burn it.

A grin spreads across Spencer’s face as he puts down the paper and reaches for the fettuccine pasta and dropping it on the boiling water (which he measured with measuring cups he borrowed from JJ)

“Okay, now I wait for it to boil.” Spencer stares at the pasta as it cooks. Did he buy enough parmesan cheese? or enough pecorino cheese? Oh no. He looks over the other side of his counter where all the (complete) ingredients sit and he sighs in relief as if he hasn’t checked it 15 times since he started.

The pasta was still cooking and isn’t going to be firm anytime soon. Spencer ponders if he should just cook the sauce while waiting but he knows he’s going to mess it up if he doesn’t give it his undivided attention.

He looks at the watch on his wrist as it ticks to 5:21. He has one hour, thirty nine minutes and forty six seconds. He still has time before the date. The date with you.

It took him nine months, Derek and Emily annoying him to death to just ask the pretty librarian out, one extensive background research from Penelope, two separate talks of the “You deserve to be happy” advice from JJ and Hotch and one lecture about marriage from Rossi to finally ask you out.

He’s kinda annoyed really because he spent so much time thinking about you and thinking of the perfect way to ask you out but he shows up at the library you work at one day with a cup of coffee in hand and his heart on the other.

You didn’t even hesitate. There was no pause to process what he asked, there was no questions following the embarrassing stumbling of the words, “W-will you go have d-dinner with me? L-like a date... Date?” You immediately said yes with a small hop and the biggest smile on your face.

This date has to be perfect. He asked you to come to his apartment at 7. Spencer would’ve picked you up but he was making you a home made dinner and the date was taking place on the rooftop of you apartment, which Penelope and Derek helped him decorate with lights.

He tries the pasta and when its finally firm to the bite, he takes this as his queue to read the paper again. Of course, he can remember all of the instructions but Rossi still wrote it down and reading it calms his nerves.

3. If its cooked, drain your pasta water but leave a little pasta water on the side. Then you can continue.

4. In a pan on MEDIUM heat (just around 2-3 on the stove setting) cook one pound diced pancetta and 1 cup chopped onions in olive. Put this down and chop chop!

Spencer puts the paper down as he follows the instructions to drain the pasta. After he was done with it he puts the pan on the stove and starts chopping up the ingredients he needs.

Cooking is strangely calming. He never thought he’d find it calming. He always found himself burning stuff. So he sticks to the microwaveable meals and fast foods, even if he knows the statistics about these kinds of food.

After finishing the chopping he reaches over the paper and reads it again.

5. Are you done? Okay. Put the chopped stuff on the pan with olive oil and cook it until the pancetta is browned and onions are soft.

He immediately follows the instructions written. The onion and pancetta create a silent hiss as it hits the pan. As it cook he looks down again.

6. That’s going to take a while, so leave it but stay by its side. I am giving you permission to do two things at once. Dr. Reid, please be mindful of it.

Spencer rolls his eyes before proceeding to #7.

7. Combine the two cheeses. Then divide it in half. Then pour the half into 4 egg YOLKS. Just yolks! The yellow ones! Then beat it lightly until its really combined.

He has already separated the egg yolks from the whites (a job he didn’t think would be that hard but was surprisingly very hard) before he started cooking. He adds the combination of cheeses to the eggs and lightly beats it as he watches the pan of onions and pancetta sizzle.

When done with the egg and cheese combo, he gives the pan a stir before looking back down.

8. Is the egg done? Yes? Good. Is the pancetta and onion good? Yes? Good.

9. Okay, now you put your pasta in the pancetta pan.

10. REMOVE IT FROM THE HEAT! REMOVE IT!

Spencer follows the instructions to the T. He puts the pasta on the pancetta, gives it a stir and immediately removes it from the heat. He sighs in relief. He hasn’t burned anything yet.

11. You haven’t burned anything yet? I am proud of you.

12. Now, pour the egg mixture into the pan and toss the pasta until coated. TOSS IT GENTLY. If you’re scared use tongs.

13. Pour about 1/4 cup of the pasta water I told you to set aside earlier. You don’t have to pour all 1/4 cup, just until you get the creaminess you want.

Spencer reaches over the nearest tongs. He’s not going to toss anything tonight that involves pastas or pans. He’s taking the safe road because he wants everything to be perfect.

14. Add the rest of your cheese! Toss some more and then add salt and pepper as NEEDED!

15. You can serve it with parsley.

16. Now, go take a shower and change into some cleaner clothes.

17. Just be you and have fun, Spencer. Goodluck! :)

Spencer smiles as he puts the paper down and makes the finals touches to the pasta. He starts doing what was instructed and it surprisingly, ends up in the perfect texture. Just like the one he tasted when Rossi had a pasta night.

He was proud of himself as he takes it off the stove and makes sure that all the stoves are turned off. There was this report he read in 2018, that cooking and leaving the stove open was the leading cause of home fires.

He takes the food, puts it into a fancy tupperware (another thing he borrowed from JJ) and puts it in the microwave. He cleans up a little and stuffs the pans and pots to the dishwasher, because you are coming in his apartment even for a second.

He starts getting himself ready for the date with a shower. As the warm water glides through his body he thinks of how funny life could be.

Spencer first meets you in the library. He has not slept well in weeks so instead he opts to go to the library to get some reading done. But as soon as he sits in one of the (surprisingly) comfortable leather chairs, its as if sleep knocks him out. It wasn’t until the closing time that you wake him up and he thinks that you were an angel sent for him. This elicits a giggle from you.

“I am sorry, I am not an angel. I am just the librarian and we’ve been close for over an hour now. I just didn’t want to wake you up. You looked like you really needed that sleep.” Spencer immediately jumps to his feet as he apologizes profusely to the kind librarian, “Oh, it’s okay! Don’t say sorry. I was also reading so I didn’t mind the peace and quiet.”

That’s how Spencer meets you. He comes back a few days later after a case with coffee, croissant and an apology. You immediately become friends and thats how all of this started. Spencer finds himself falling in love with the kind, gorgeous, clever librarian faster than he expected.

Every week after that, Spencer comes to the library with pastries and coffees for his favourite librarian and every week, you welcome Spencer with a warm smile and a new book for him to read. He can read it in one sitting but he reads it in the slowest pace he could so it can last for a week.

Spencer comes out the shower and stares at his closet. Should he go casual or formal? Casual or formal? Its just dinner, he’s chill and casual is the way. He picks one of the few plaid shirts that he has and puts it on with a white shirt underneath. He tries to brush his hair, it sits for a moment before it starts curling again. He cringes but leaves it be.

Spencer proceeds to the kitchen to start packing the food into a wicker basket (that he also borrowed from JJ, he basically borrowed her whole kitchen). He packs the utensils in a table napkin that comes with the basket. The main course for the date was the carbonara, and the dessert was a tiramisu Penelope made.

He reaches over his sofa where the bouquet of paper flowers are. He made it a few nights ago with Penelope’s help. He stayed up to make more of it with old books he found in the BAU.

Because what kind of flowers is the best flowers for librarians? Origami flowers made with old book pages.

He shouldn’t be nervous. You’ve been friends for all the months that he didn’t have enough courage to ask you out. You’ve taken trips to old bookstores together for book hunting. This shouldn’t be different from your other trips.

The pitter patter of rain against his window takes him out of his thoughts.

“Shit! Is it raining!?” Spencer yelps, before opening the closed curtains. Beads of water runs down his windows and if its any other day he would love it. But not tonight, when he planned a rooftop date. He cringes as he thinks of the fairy lights hanged up and the table set up that is probably soaked now.

“Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Think, Spencer, think.” Spencer thinks fast. He finds the extra table cloth that JJ gave him because “Just in case.” He reminds himself to buy her a bottle of wine as a thank you. He places it in his small kitchen table before taking the utensils out of the basket and placing it on the table in a fancy way.

Candles. Does he have candles? Spencer scrambles around his kitchen, like a chicken without its head, looking for candles and he finds it underneath the kitchen sink. He lights some of it up and props it into some glasses (he doesn’t have a candle holder he realizes after lighting it up).

With the lights dimmed down leaving the light from the window and the light from the candles, his dark apartment gives off a romantic, kind of comfortable, vibes. It was kind of perfect because with the books on his shelves and the lighting, it actually has the same vibes a library gives off.

He was ready now, bouquet of paper flowers in hand. He can’t believe how smooth things are going, minus the damn rain. Only thing that’s missing is you.

A knock comes to the door and he instantly opens it. There you were, hair a bit wet and messed up from the rain.

His future was bundled up in a cozy cardigan and a pair of jeans right in front of his eyes and he didn’t even know it.

“Hi.” Spencer smiles.

“Hi.” You smile.

-

“A little to the right. No. No. Too much right, now give it a little bit to the left.” You sigh, your hand under your chin, “No, no, baby, its crooked.”

“Love, can we do this later? The pancetta is going to burn.” Spencer laughs as he climbs down the ladder with the frame.

“But you said you’ll help me with putting up the frames!” You pout at him, Spencer chuckles before kissing your nose, “I know but you also asked for my famous carbonara and I can’t do both at the same time.”

“Hmmm. I still don’t think you can call it yours when its originally Dave’s.” You follow him to the kitchen, zigzagging through the boxes of books you’ve both barely opened.

“What he doesn’t know, won’t kill him.” He winks at you before giving the pancetta and onions a stir.

“It already smells good, love.” You snake your arms through his waist and lean your head on his back. Spencer lets go of the spatula and spins around to face you.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Go unbox some of the books and I’ll call you when its cooked so we can fix the frames. Okay?” Spencer kisses the top of your head and lets you go.

You walk out of the kitchen to the hallway full of boxes full of books. You chuckle as you open the nearest box and its just full of chemistry books. You push it to the room where Luke, Derek and Spencer has built shelves for all of your books. An olive green couch sits in the corner beside the built in fireplace.

Hmmm. This is your home library but as a former librarian the dewey decimal is calling you. But then again, the books you and Spencer have doesn’t have classifications on them. You began unpacking the chemistry books and placing it on the shelf. You can hear the distinct hiss of the pan and Spencer humming Kodaline’s The One.

You push in another box from the hallway to the room and its another one of Spencer’s, this one full of philosophy books. You start unpacking it to the shelf below the chemistry books before stopping as you pull out a book that doesn't belong with the philosophy books. A smile graces your face as your hands glides unto it. It was the book Spencer bought for you on your first anniversary.

The Peter Pan cover is a bit tattered, it was an older edition he found in your favorite old bookstore. You open the book and Spencer’s messy writing greets you with nostalgia.

“We are most alive when we are in love. Thank you for making me feel alive everyday for the past year. Happy Anniversary, love. I live a full life as I love you fully.”

You smile at the book before hugging it to your chest. You sigh deeply as you looked around the room and how it felt so surreal to be in the new home you share with Spencer.

“Love, I am finish. Come meet me in the hallway!” You leave the book on the shelf as you hear Spencer calling you.

“Are you helping me with the frames?” You clap, excited to finally put up the frames. Spencer smiles as he sees you excited to put up the pictures.

“Yes, okay you need to tell me if they’re straight okay?” He instructs before climbing the ladder.

“To the right, just a bit. Oh! Perfect!” You scramble to reach for another frame as he comes down the ladder to move it, “Here! This one.” He climbs again and you instruct him with directions for the frame again.

After a few more frames, he finally comes down and looks at the frames you asked to be put up.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Spencer smiles down at you and gives your cheek a kiss as he wraps his hands around your waist, “It is. Thank you for framing them.”

The frames comes in different shapes and forms, the biggest one in the middle is the picture of your wedding day. Your wedding took place in a library you immediately fell in love with when looking for places to get married at.

In the picture, you were smiling, your head rested on Spencer's shoulder as he reads a Harry Potter book he found in the kids section. It was a candid moment, both of you running to the back of the shelves to get a moment to yourselves after the wedding and the photographer snapped it before leaving the two of you in peace.

Beside it are pictures with the team on the wedding day, some on thanksgiving, christmas, new year with the BAU team, some with your family, some with Diana and in the corner is a shadow box containing the paper bouquet that Spencer gave you on your first date, the same exact flowers that was in your hands as you walk down the aisle to him.

“So, how's the first six months of officially being a Reid-Y/L/N?” Spencer teases as he lets you go from the back hug to face you and you roll your eyes at him, “Oh very hard. They hear Reid and they immediately expect greatness.”

Spencer laughs, “Same as the last name Y/L/N.” This time your the one who laughs at his statement, “Uhhh. I am not the one with 3 PhDs and 3 BAs.”

“And I am not the one whose a New York Times best selling author.” Spencer laughs even more when he sees your nose crinkles, making his heart dance and swell in glee.

“Hey, let’s dance.” He takes your arms and leaves it on his shoulders as he wraps his arms on your waist.

“We don’t have music, you silly goofy boy.” Spencer rolls his eyes at the endearment used, “I’ll sing.” He hushes you down.

“You make my heart feel like it's summer when the rain is pouring down.” Spencer’s singing voice was soft and sweet in the edges. Most nights you lull him to sleep with your humming to keep the monsters at bay and some days, his better days, he’s the one who sings and these were the days you treasure the most.

“You make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong, that's how I know you are the one... That’s how I know you are the one.” He sways you to the gentle buzz of his voice. You close your eyes as he sings the same song he sings to your ears on the dance floor for you first dance as a married couple.

“When we are together, you make me feel like my mind is free and my dreams are reachable hmmm.” Spencer hums as he runs his hands on your back. Your head on his chest and your ear listening to the way his heart is beating for you.

“You know I never ever believed in love, I believed one day that you would come along and free me.” Spencer feels at ease as he sways and sings, knowing that he’ll have you in his arms for the rest of his life.

The song ends but you and Spencer continue to sway to the music of silence.

“Can you believe its been 4 years since our first date?” Spencer asks, in disbelief of how fast time is running when he’s with you. You pull away from his chest so you can face him. You find a small spark in Spencer’s eyes as he thinks fondly of the night.

“Really? 4 years since our first date got rained on and Penelope cried because we broke all her fairy lights?” Spencer laughs before protesting, “Hey! I paid for that!”

"4 years later and I still can't get enough of that damn carbonara." Spence cackles, like an evil villain, "Don't tell Rossi that I stole his recipe for my beautiful partner."

"4 years later and I am still completely in love with you." Spencer smiles as he leans down to place a small kiss on your temple.

"4 years since I almost completely lost my mind because I was so nervous about our date." You roll your eyes, "Love, our first date was perfect. We've had this debate how many times now?"

"19 times." Spencer answers and you pinch his nose before looking around the room that’s still full of unopened boxes, “See. We should probably eat lunch and unpack. Why do we even have so many boxes of books?”

“Honey, you were a librarian and you are a writer. I am a professor and FBI agent that can read 20,000 words per minute.” Spencer answers as he looks around the unpacked house.

You smile fondly at him before standing on your tiptoes a bit to reach him and give him a kiss and he immediately steadies you with his hands. Kissing you was intoxicating and Spencer loves every bit of it. You only pull away when the kiss finally takes away your breathe.

“I love you, Spence.” You smile as you hold his face in your hands, “I love you more, sweetheart.” He smiles at you as you untangle yourself from him.

“Let’s eat your famous carbonara and unpack the rest of our house. It doesn’t really feel like home when all we can see is boxes.” You giggle before dragging him to the kitchen, making Spencer sit on the island as you prepare the pasta he cooked. Spencer watches you as you sing and dance through the kitchen in one of his old cardigans.

He doesn’t say anything but you were wrong. Home is not four walls with unpacked boxes and hundreds of books.

Home was when you showed up bundled in a cardigan, wet from the rain for your first date with him and home is still you, four years later, bundled up in his old cardigans and singing songs that magically fills and heals the crevices of his heart.

-

the recipe i copied for the famous carbonara!

taglist (if you want to be added, please message me 🥰): @all-tings-diego @shemarmooresfedora @averyhotchner @samuel-de-champagne-problems @bingereid

[mypoisonedvine]

The Summer Before College | Marcus Moreno x reader

summary: just because you got some good scholarships doesn't mean you couldn’t use some extra cash.  luckily, babysitting for a family friend has been a steady side gig for you.  rule number one of babysitting: don't let your wandering eye rest for too long on the hot single dad.  

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut (dub con elements? but she’s into it lol don’t worry), age gap (he’s 40-something, reader’s 18/19), loss of virginity, pussy spanking (like, once), lots of petnames and ‘good girl’s, not a dark fic but kinda pushing it, not explicitly dad's best friend trope but it has that energy and I've decided that he is in fact friends with the reader's dad

a/n: this has basically nothing to do with the movie.  he’s just a hot dad.  don’t overthink it.

You knew the walk to the Moreno's by now: down two blocks from your house, take a right at San Vicente, a left on Birch, a few houses down and you're there.  With your full backpack weighing on your shoulders it felt longer than usual, but you made it anyways and knocked on the front door. 

"It's open!" a voice called from inside, and you turned the knob and swung the door open.

You almost regretted wearing your tiniest jean shorts, from the way Mr. Moreno did a double take when you walked in.  But hey, it was the middle of summer and he would never look at you like that— you were just his daughter's babysitter, ever since you were sixteen; he was probably just surprised to see that you were wearing something other than your school uniform.  Maybe some part of you wished he would look at you like that… 

Missy called your name, tearing you from your thoughts, jumping up when she saw you and beaming as she rushed to give you a hug.  "Hey!" you greeted in return.  

“Thanks again for doing this,” Mr. Moreno nodded in your general direction, apparently already dressed for whatever it was he had to do, slipping on his jacket from where it hung on a hook by the door.  "She's already had dinner, so just homework and bedtime," he explained to you as you nodded dutifully.

"Bedtime?  Dad, I'm not a little kid anymore," Missy rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you're a big kid and you need to be asleep by 10.  It's a school night."

She huffed but didn't protest, and you joined her on the couch because she wanted to show you some drawings she’d done earlier that day.  "Bye, Dad!" Missy waved when he left, and he turned back quickly to blow a kiss in her direction.

Once you helped her finish her homework (frankly, you didn't have to do that much— she's a smart kid), the two of you enjoyed some video games before you finally got her to start getting ready for bed.

It was cute how confident Missy was that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, only for her to be snoring within five minutes of her head hitting the pillow.  You were envious of how easily she could sleep; you could kill an hour just tossing and turning and readjusting your blanket.  But that wasn’t going to be your problem tonight: you weren’t going to sleep yet, until the man of the house returned, meaning all you had to do was wait.

Even in summer, having already graduated, you had plenty of work to do while you waited for Mr. Moreno.  Knowing what classes you had in the fall, you bought your textbooks a bit early and planned on reading them all before the semester began.  You’d already gotten through Philosophy Through the Ages and now you continued from where you left off in the middle of Introductory Physics.  

What surprised you was that you had time to finish that one, too.  You had anticipated that Mr. Moreno would be back before you made it to the module on fluid dynamics, but you reached the index at a quarter past midnight and he was still gone.  You shrugged and picked up the next one— A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry— hoping he was alright and that he’d be back soon.

You had to make yourself some coffee when 1 a.m. rolled around; tired, anxious, and distracted, you realized this was probably not the best state to be attempting to study in, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice.  You didn’t want to fall asleep here, you’d promised to watch Missy and you couldn’t exactly do that while asleep… plus, he would probably be back any minute now.  Sure, you’d been saying that to yourself for nearly an hour and a half now, but it was more true than ever.

It was another hour and a half, though, until his car pulled into the driveway and he pushed through the front door, prompting you to set aside your textbook.

“Good evening,” you greeted, standing up.  He looked a little disheveled— but it worked for him, with that curly hair all messed up in just the right way.  Maybe it was just that it was late or that it was the rare time you saw him without Missy around, but there was a darkness about him now, not sinister so much as just purely intimidating.  It was like you hadn’t really taken him seriously before, and now you were appreciating that you should have.

“She’s asleep?” he assumed, glancing over to the hallway which his daughter’s bedroom was positioned at the end of before slipping his jacket off and hanging it by the door.

“It’s half past two, so… I really hope so,” you chuckled.

“Shit, is it that late already?” he groaned, glancing at his watch.

“Did you not notice?”

“I.. got carried away.”

You didn’t want to know what he’d been out so late for.  It was none of your business, and you figured you were better off without any secrets to keep— you’d never been so good at keeping secrets, even your own.

“Been studying this whole time?” he noticed as he glanced at the textbooks on the couch, grinning a little.  It sort of felt like he was mocking you, and it made your cheeks warm as you nodded.  “What a good girl.”

That made a cold tingle crawl up your spine.  Sure, other students had called you that before, and plenty of your teachers, but when he said it, like that… it felt entirely new.  “I try,” you managed to respond eventually.

“You’ll do well in college, I bet.”

“You think so?” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he nodded confidently.  There was something comforting about the way he smiled at you; yet, there was something predatory about the way his eyes glanced down your body and back up slowly.

As you turned and bent over to pick up your textbooks off the couch, you could tell that he had stepped closer; you could just barely hear the soft noise of his footsteps on his carpet, just barely feel the warmth of him behind you, just barely pick up on the slow, thoughtful breath he took in and out through his nose.

Standing back up slowly, you felt him do it again, right against your neck.

“M-Mr. Moreno,” you stammered, shivering when his hands gripped you on either arm.  Not a tight grip, per se, but one that made his strength obvious.

“You don’t have to call me that,” he breathed.  “Not when we’re alone.”

Not that you really had any plan on how to respond to that, but if you had, it would've been forgotten as his lips brushed over your neck, leaving teasing kisses in a trail over your pulse.

"Wait—" you blurted out instinctively when his hands moved to your waist, cut off by your own shaky sigh and suppressed moan.  “What if she wakes up?” you questioned anxiously, glancing down the hallway and hoping you wouldn’t find Missy there, watching her dad feeling you up— and you letting him, not just that but enjoying it.  Of course, the hallway was deserted, but you couldn’t feel certain it would stay that way.

“She won’t,” he assured.  “Not if you can be a good girl and stay quiet.”

You made a little whimpering noise as you wondered if you could.  You didn’t know how, really; you were good at being quiet when you were alone, but being alone had never felt like this.  Forbidden, sexy, terrifyingly wonderful… nothing had ever felt like this.

“Do you want me to stop?” he purred, sounding like he already knew the answer.

“No,” you answered a little too quickly, “please… please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grinned.  “Tell me what you do want.”

“I want…” you sighed and started over again, willing yourself to speak your thoughts aloud even though they made a pit of guilt sink in your stomach.  "I want you to make me feel good."

You knew it was a sort of childish way of putting it, even before he laughed at your statement, but you weren't sure what else to say.  "Yeah?  I can do that," he decided.  "But I can make you feel good in so many ways…" he trailed off as his right hand slipped lower and lower, finally landing between your legs as you gasped.  Two fingers slid over the crotch of your shorts, and somehow he managed to bump against something that made electricity shoot up your spine and your hips buck into his touch of their own accord.  You felt his smile widen as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of your neck.  "You'll have to be more specific," he finally finished.  "How do you want me to make you feel good?"

"Inside me," you whined, "I want you inside me."

There was a sudden shift as it seemed like the control he had over you suddenly did not extend to himself; he growled a bit and pulled you into him, and you could feel the hard shape of his cock, through his trousers and your shorts.  You could feel it pressed just above your ass and it made you squirm against his embrace.  "Feel what you do to me?" he grunted, and you nodded quickly.  "Good."

He spun you around quickly, pulling you close to him and burning right through you with those brown eyes darker than ever, but just as you thought he might kiss you, he spoke instead.

“My bedroom’s upstairs,” he informed you quietly.

You just nodded, following him as he pulled you along through the house, up the stairs and past the door to the master bedroom of the house.

Now that you hadn’t seen it coming, of course, was when he chose to grab you and kiss you suddenly.  It was rough and passionate and nothing like you could've imagined; you were certain you'd never been kissed like this, like he needed to kiss you more than he needed anything.  

Your arms slipped around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he kicked the door shut behind the two of you.  Little moans were muffled by the kiss— and it took you a minute to realize they were yours.  You didn’t even sound like yourself; probably because you’d never felt like this before, and therefore had never had any reason to sound like this.

You could feel his cock between your legs, though unfortunately not in the way you wanted.  Still, it drove you wild to have him so close like this, to try to imagine how the thick shape you were feeling would ever fit inside you.

His hands were so strong and thick that you worried they’d stretch out your tank top just by reaching under it— well, that is you would have worried about that if you could think about anything else but his hands reaching under your tank top.  He didn’t even waste his time touching you over your bra, instead making quick work of the clasps with one hand before coming back to grope one breast in his palm, then the other.  Just that was enough to make you run your fingers into his hair, but a little pinch to your raised nipple made your fists tighten and pull— you didn’t mean to, and you were just about to feel bad about it until he growled a little.  It seemed like a growl of approval, considering he pinched your nipples harder to make you do it again.  

“Feels good?” he asked with annoying (yet arousing) confidence.

“S-so good,” you slurred, stumbling over your words as you tried to think as clearly as possible through the thick haze of pleasure clouding your mind. 

As he guided you to set your legs down and unhook your arms from around his neck, you felt a bit like a doll being posed; when he pulled your top over your head and your bra from your arms, you felt like a doll being undressed.  You sort of didn’t mind it; you were happy to let him take the lead, confident he knew at least 100% more about this than you did. 

He knelt down before you as he roughly pulled at your tight jean shorts, his knuckles nearly bruising your hips as he stripped you.  Your underwear were not the pair you would’ve worn if you had known somebody was going to see them, just a plain dark blue color that made you feel so drab as he came face-to-face with them.  He didn’t seem to mind much, grinning up at you as he slipped his fingers under them and pulled them down, too.  Your face was so hot and yet your legs were breaking out into goosebumps simultaneously, and a shiver rolled up your body when he growled at the sight of your body laid bare for him.  Before you could even process it, he stood up and grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed and spreading your legs.

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praised with a smile that made you feel a little light-headed, swirling a few fingers over your swollen button until pulling them back to spank you there— it wasn’t even that hard, but you yelped and jolted and he laughed darkly.  “So sensitive,” he purred, his words walking a fine line between a compliment and a taunt, “so wet.”

Another finger slipping down to your entrance proved him right, your arousal plentiful as his touch glided through your folds.  

Suddenly overcome with a moment of bravery, you sat up and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, making him smile down at you.  “Let me help you,” he offered as he worked the buttons instead, freeing you to try to open his belt.  “Look at you, acting so desperate…”

At this point, you weren’t even offended by that; you wanted him so bad that you didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed by it anymore.  

He slipped the shirt off of his shoulders just as you finished opening the belt.  He pushed your hands away, and now you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he held you down by your wrists.  “You’re getting ahead of yourself, señorita,” he purred.

Why did feeling powerless to him turn you on so much?  There was no real fear to it— you knew and trusted him, you would never have developed your misguided crush on him if you didn’t— and yet there was a strong edge of uncertainty as he kissed your neck and moved down your chest, between your breasts before he stopped to kiss those, too.

“Oh god,” you breathed, and he smiled against your skin before sitting up and staring down at you.  It wasn’t apparent if it was distant streetlights or the moonlight shining in through the window, but either way it cast a cold blue light into the room that reflected as a glimmer in his eyes. 

“Not gonna make you wait any longer,” he promised in a low voice, reaching down to push his unbuttoned belt and trousers to his thighs— those thick, muscular thighs that made your lip catch between your teeth.

Your breath caught, too, but in your lungs this time as his cock was exposed: thick, swollen, veiny… it looked picturesque, if thoroughly intimidating.  You couldn’t figure out if you wanted to move towards it or sheepishly crawl away.

"Why do you look scared?" he asked, his voice so much deeper than you remembered it from before, even if there was genuine concern somewhere in his tone.

"Is it gonna hurt?" you asked instead of answering.

"Baby…" he sighed huskily, "are you a virgin?"

You bit your lip and looked away, irritated that you hadn't managed to hide your fear enough to keep your secret.  

He sighed, your silence apparently answer enough.  

"Do you not want to, anymore?" you asked anxiously, afraid you had completely killed the mood.  Part of the reason it'd taken you this long to lose it was specifically because people seemed intimidated by the idea of being your first.

"No, no, I— no," he asserted sternly.  "I just need to… change my approach, slightly.”

He leaned down a bit, hovering over you as he trailed his hand up your leg, rubbing the inside of your thigh before finally drawing circles over your aching clit with his thumb, causing you to shiver and moan quietly.

“And, to answer your question, it won’t hurt.  Not if I get you good and ready for me,” he explained, pushing just one finger into you— and even that small of a stimulation made your eyes flutter shut, with his fingers being so much thicker and stronger than yours.

The second made your fists clench around the satin-y sheets beneath you.  You didn’t dare open your eyes, knowing you’d find him staring down at you and you weren’t ready for that, weren’t ready to see his reaction to your body in such a vulnerable state.  You could hear his reaction, though, with the rough groans and satisfied sighs he let out as he pumped his fingers into you.

When three fingers filled you, your eyes shot open.  “Fuck!” you yelped.

He smiled but slowed down, apparently taking some pity on you— but not enough to stop him from pressing down harder on your clit.

Just when you figured he’d warmed you up enough and he’d fuck you like he promised, he slid lower and the bed and bent down, adding his tongue into the mix with his fingers.  It was… overwhelming, and hot, not just psychologically but literally: it was physically hot, as in temperature.  How was his mouth so warm against you, and his fingers so warm inside you?

When he latched his lips around your clit and sucked on it, you saw stars.  Energy gathered in your gut and burned so bright that you thought you might explode.  Really, it was more like an implosion as the coil inside you snapped and your thighs accidentally clamped down on his hand.  It didn’t faze him though, it didn’t even slow him down as he moaned a little against you and curled his fingers even harder.  You didn’t remember reaching down to grab his head, you just felt his hair between your fingers as you pulled it roughly, gasping his name.

When he did stop, sitting up and wiping his face with the back of his hand, you just looked back up at him as you caught your breath.  He laughed, and you realized you were gawking unintentionally.

“I’m guessing you’ve never come like that before?” he ventured.  You didn’t know if ‘like that’ meant from oral or just so suddenly and intensely, but it was true either way so you nodded.

When he reached down to grip his cock with the same hand still wet with your slick, you held your breath without realizing it.  “Please put it in me,” you whimpered.

“I will,” he assured as he guided the head of it through your slick folds, stopping to tease your clit as you jolted from the contact on the sensitive nerves.  Something surreal and indescribable tingled under your skin— you could hardly believe that this was happening, let alone with him, with Mr. Moreno.  Or, Marcus.  You were on a first-name basis by now, surely.

He pushed forward in one smooth, slow stroke until he was all the way inside you, his body filling yours to the brim as you quivered from the sensation of being stretched so wide.  

“Am I hurting you?” he asked roughly.

“...almost,” you answered hesitantly, unsure how to describe the sensations you were feeling; not exactly pain, but not not pain.  The favorite pain you’d ever felt in your life, easily.

He chuckled as he gripped your hips a little tighter.  "I'm gonna move now," he announced.  You nodded your approval, sighing shakily as he pulled his hips back and you felt the intoxicating friction of his cock against your walls.  

"Ffffuck," you whimpered, gasping when he slammed his hips forward again.  Your eyes rolled back in your head when he pushed as deep into you as he could with each thrust, still measured but not exactly gentle as he set a pace faster than you’d prepared for.  But it was good, god it was so fucking good you weren’t sure what to do with yourself.  "Marcus," you sighed, barely recognizing your own voice when it was heavy with need and arousal like this.

He grinned when he heard his name cross your lips, grinding his hips against yours for emphasis until you were forced to arch your back.  "You like it rough, don't ya, honey?"

You nodded, confident that you liked it however he was doing it.

"Fuck, I knew it.  Knew as soon as I saw you."

Before you could wonder what he meant by that, he was already moving fast enough to make your head spin.  You had never had anything so deep inside you before, and when he pushed your legs up and back against your chest, you had no choice but to scream with pleasure.

Just before you reached the peak of it though, his hand clamped down over your mouth to muffle the sound.  "Gotta be quiet," he reminded you through his teeth before relaxing his hand a bit so you could still be heard somewhat

"I can't," you whined, "Marcus, please, I can't stay quiet—"

"You have to."

"Feels too good," you whimpered your excuse.  "F-fuck, slow down, I won't be able to stop it—"

He cut you off with a kiss, slow yet dominating, and your moans were muffled by his lips.  You still sounded so loud in your own head, but at least your cries weren't echoing against the walls of his room anymore.

What was echoing were the sounds of skin slapping on skin as he pounded into you, roughly finding every delicate spot within you and making the backs of your thighs sore as his hips slammed into them.  It forced your hands to grip at his muscular shoulders and your nails to dig into the skin there.  You hoped there would be little half-moon shaped marks there tomorrow, maybe one would even scar so he'd have your mark on his body forever; after all, he'd carved a permanent space in your body by taking your virginity.  Even if you couldn't dream of being as special to him as he was to you, you liked the idea of giving him something that he couldn't give back.

That energy was building again, different from before but no less powerful and persistent.  "I'm gonna— fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm so close," you whispered.

“Yeah?  Go ahead," he encouraged.  "I wanna see you fall apart just for me, wanna feel you come around my cock."

You hadn't realized he'd be able to feel it, and the idea of that was so filthily beautiful that it pushed you over the edge, your whole body tensing up in sudden waves of pleasure so intense that it made your eyes water.

Through the static filling your ears, you heard his low, husky voice encouraging you: "Good girl, just like that, don't fucking stop."

You'd always been powerless to his voice, but this was another level.  It was as if your body understood and met his demands, continuing to ride the peak of your sensation so long as he growled in your ear just right.  

It was much too tender, the way he brushed the stray hair away from your face, the way he kissed your slack mouth again, the way he held you tighter and mumbled more praises to you.  It was more romantic than it had any right to be, and you had to bite back the words of affection threatening to spill out of your mouth.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, I've loved you for years, but it was beyond inappropriate.  You didn't want to play the role of the innocent virgin who thinks sex means being in love and lets herself catch feelings for the older man who is just taking what he wants and, at best, doing her a favor so she doesn't have to go off to college and get her cherry popped there.  Maybe that was accurate, but that wasn't who you wanted to be.  

You wanted to be sexy, and mature, and in control.  You wanted to play a new rule, one that still felt foreign and yet closer than ever.  So you wrapped your legs around his hips and held him deeper in you, smiling with a little growl of your own.

"I want you to come inside me," you informed him with a purr, loving the little moment of shock that passed over his face before he groaned, fucking you a little faster and more erratically.

"Fuck, really?" he rasped.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and nodded.

"You're on the pill?"

Another nod, this one finished off with a shiver as you wondered how much more of this your body could take.

He grinned and picked up the pace again, his moans getting a little louder with each movement.  "Fuck, I'm gonna come— gonna fill up your tight little pussy, is that what you want?"

You nodded feverishly, already close to the edge again as you imagined what it would be like to have his come in you for the rest of the night.  Was he going to make you walk home with it leaking out from between your legs?  Why did that idea make your inner muscles involuntarily tighten around him?

With a string of curses and a grip on your thigh tight enough to bruise, he reached his own peak and you felt his cock flex and pulse inside you, a new warmth filling your gut from the inside out.  

It's hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that, since you were busy basking in the afterglow (and, less enjoyably, worrying about the consequences that tomorrow morning would bring).

When he pulled out and collapsed beside you, you wondered if you should get up and get dressed.

"Stay here tonight," he instructed you, as if somehow a response to your internal thought.  "Your folks won't freak out if you're out all night, right?"

"I'll just tell them I slept over at your place," you shrugged.  With a confused look from him, you clarified: "on the couch."

"Right," he nodded as he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you closer, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck.  In this way and in so many others, it was how you expected (and hoped) losing your virginity would go: someone you trust and who cares about you, with enough attention on you that you didn't feel much pain, plus cuddling afterwards.  But, in even more ways, it was unlike what you'd ever thought possible: it felt incredible and you came so hard that your ears were still kind of ringing, you didn't use a condom or even think to mention it, and finally— and most absurdly— it was with Marcus fucking Moreno.

Frankly, considering his performance earlier, "fucking" very well could be his middle name.

"You should sit for me again next week," he suggested quietly.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"No," he grinned, "but I'll be sure to come back real late, after she's gone to bed, so I can show you all the other ways I can make you feel good."

"H-how many ways are there?!"

He just laughed, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.  “Oh, sweetheart… so smart, but so innocent.  We can fix that.”

You weren’t sure entirely which of those two things he intended on fixing.

[zukump3]

ignoring them for 24 hours ✧ hc

you ignore your boys for 24 hours. or, at least, you try to.

genre: fluff

requested: yes! i added todoroki just cause

as perceptive as he is

izuku probably notices immediately how you’re avoiding him

you two wake up at similar times because you go to sleep at similar times, but this time you woke up before him

he gave you a sweet “good morning” and kissed your cheek, but you only smiled and went to the bathroom

he thought that was strange. you usually say good morning back

but then again, it was such a small thing that he didn’t really overreact over it

however, when you left his dorm without saying goodbye or anything like that he got a little worried

once classes were beginning, he went to your dorm to pick you up and walk you to class like usual but

you were already gone.

“what the...” he would murmur to himself, frowning now

what was up with you? were you ignoring him or something?

what even annoyed him further was that you spent the whole day with fucking bakusquad!

bakugo didn’t seem to like it of course, but kirishima and the others accepted your company like it was nothing

he tried to sit next to you at lunch but once bakugo noticed his presence, he immediately yelled at the green haired boy to “fucking beat it!”

“but i-“

“WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!”

the fact that you didn’t even come to his defense kind of hurt him

he didn’t even eat at lunch

he was so bummed out that he just poked at his food with a frown on his face

of course you noticed this. you had been watching him all day and it broke your heart to see your baby like this omg ㅠㅠ

you couldn’t do it anymore. you got up and sat next to him at lunch and you swear he shined brighter than the sun when he saw you

“y/n! i-you-“

“i was trying to praaank you,” you pouted. “but you looked so upset after what that bomb bitch said-i couldn’t do it anymore.”

his pout matched yours.

“don’t do that again... i was seriously worried!”

he makes you stay by him for the rest of the day 😭

ignoring him for 24 hours challenge: failed.

y/n only lasted 5-6 hours.

todoroki literally doesn’t notice at all

he doesn’t talk much, and seeing that you don’t talk to him much in the morning doesn’t really bother him

he just assumed you were tired and didn’t really care

you two usually got coffee together in the morning but as he went to the common room to wait for you, he was a bit peeved that you didn’t show up

he just assumed you fell asleep or something, or maybe you weren’t in the mood

not gonna lie, he was already missing your presence but he wouldn’t push you to interact with him if you weren’t in the mood

when he goes to class though, he sees you laughing and smiling with the rest of dekusquad

having a good time, apparently

he sits with you guys and listens, and his brows furrowed when he heard you say

“i wish i would’ve gotten coffee this morning. really wanted some mocha.”

...?

did you forget that you two got coffee literally every morning?

okay, whatever. something was definitely wrong with you but he wouldn’t push.

you two also sit together during lunch but you sat between tsu and izuku instead

he’s like

what. the fuck.

he stares at you for the entirety of lunch time 😭

he doesn’t even mean to, he’s just so confused?

like why are you ignoring him? you guys didn’t fight or anything last night so ?? why??

the day continues like that

whenever he comes around you leave, whenever he talks you look away from him

he’s a mixture of irritated and annoyed

irritated bc he doesn’t know why you’re acting this way, and annoyed because he wants to fucking talk to you

you’re one of the only people in this class he talks to on a daily basis and you’re pushing him away??

he only says something when it’s kind of late and everyone is tucked away in their dorms

he has a key to your dorm room don’t ask why so he goes ahead and enters

you’re on your bed, giggling about how well the prank is going to mina when you hear the doorknob jiggle and your boyfriend enter the room

“shoto!”

“we need to talk, y/n.”

you make a face. “actually, i-“

“y/n.”

the sternness in his voice makes you look up at him, kinda scared at just how serious he looks

“you’ve been ignoring me all day. why? did i do something?”

“i—“

“if i did, please tell me. communication is important in every relationship and our relationship is very special. if you do not talk to me, i have no way of knowing what i did to hurt you and-“

“shoto! oh my god, it was just a prank!” you tell him quickly, standing up and holding out your arms.

he lowkey makes a 🤨 face.

“a prank...?”

“yeah. ignore your boyfriend for 24 hours prank,” you sigh. “i was so close.”

he sighs with you, walking over to hug you tightly, which feels so good after today.

“it’s a very stupid prank.”

you giggle against his chest.

“yeah. very stupid.”

ignoring him for 24 hours challenge: failed.

y/n only lasted 18 hours.

another one that notices immediately

you went the extra mile as to leave his dorm way earlier than he wakes up, which-

how tf did you do that

he automatically doesn’t fucking like that.

“y/n?!” he’ll yell out into his bathroom and grumble when you aren’t in there, or anywhere else in his room

he doesn’t even see you until class starts, sitting and laughing with fucking dekusquad

not only that, with midoriya

“hey dumbass, why’d you leave my dorm so early today?!” he asks you, and your eyes don’t even meet his.

you just continue scribbling at your desk.

his eyes turn white.

“i’m talking to you!”

“bakugo, please go have a seat. you’re being incredibly too loud.” aizawa would tell him, slipping his face out of his yellow sleeping bag.

he looks at his teacher, then at you, then back at his teacher before cursing and marching to his desk

probably always glancing at you through the day

the fact that you’re smiling and laughing with fucking deku

that just makes his mood even worse

you’re supposed to be smiling and laughing with him, not that crybaby

obviously his friends notice how mad he is

“dude, why so pent up?” kirishima would ask him and bakugo would literally snark

the red head smirks. “oooh—its y/n isn’t it.”

bakugo pauses.

“how the fuck did you know-“

“you know she’s pranking you, right?” kirishima would laugh at the look of anger that crosses bakugo’s face.

you’re ignoring him for a... a...

a PRANK?!

he’s livid.

during training he will not hesitate to march up to you

“you think it’s funny to ignore your boyfriend for a stupid prank, huh?! you think that’s so funny don’t you?!”

“bakugo, i-“

“SILENCEEEE!” he’ll literally roar at you and blast you like 10 feet away 😭

cue him being your partner and beating you up for practice

ignoring him for 24 hours challenge: failed.

y/n only lasted 5 hours.

kirishima understands the concept of “personal space”

he knows that sometimes, you don’t wanna be bothered

and sometimes, he doesn’t wanna be bothered

but sometimes he doesn’t care about that concept.

he will poke and pester at you if you do this challenge.

if you wake up and don’t say anything to him, he’ll yank you down to the bed and whine at you until you manage to squirm out of his arms and go to your own dorm room

he’ll stand right next to you during breakfast

and i mean he will always be standing next to you.

no matter how many times you move around the tables, he’ll somehow end up next to you

like ?? does he have super speed or something 😭

he will not tolerate you ignoring him

like not at all

during class if he cracks a few jokes and you don’t respond to them he’ll probably fake cry

“y/n, you’re making me feel very unmanly right now!”

you swear you didn’t know it would be this hard

he probably notices it’s a prank though when he’s walking next to you in the halls and you’re not even speaking to him, just staring forward

“ahh... you’re trying to play a little joke on me or something? well, we’ll see how long you keep that up!”

retorts to making you jealous the entire day.

hangs out with literally every girl, even the fucking invisible bitch

you can’t take it anymore when it nears 6pm and he asks uraraka to come back to his dorm and watch movies with him

being the amazing girlfriend you are, you get up, land in his lap, and cuddle up to him tightly

he grins at you, preppering you with kisses

“told you you wouldn’t last, y/n.”

ignoring your boyfriend for 24 hours challenge: failed.

y/n only lasted 11 hours.

[scalpel-mom-mori]

Soliloquy in Sparks

Envy is not, in fact, green.

So, I know I said yandere Lee, but like,,, next time. Or something.

~

“Commandant,” Lee murmurs, because he never uses your name, “stop squirming.”

“You don’t need to sleep,” you grumble back, letting him shift his grip, letting him pull you closer so your head was tucked under his chin. You aren’t sure of how he’d managed to tangle your legs together so thoroughly.

“You do,” he replies. “So rest.”

“Sassy brat.”

“Rest," he repeats, a command this time.

"Speaking that way to your commanding officer," you scold without force, letting yourself relax into the hollow curve beneath his throat.

"You could make me stop," he replies, smug in his victory.

"Sassy brat," you grumble again, finally sinking into a half-sleep.

You had some nerve, leaving him with that. But at least you'd stopped trying to kick him out or escape. You weren't trying to leave him, or get him to leave. As it should be. It was, after all, him that saw to your every need, and maybe ones you missed, it was him that stays by your side in battle, it's him that finds you passed out in your office and gently shakes you awake to get you off to bed for a proper night's rest. He hopes privately that you wonder what you'd do without him.

And now he's got a free moment to spend with you.

Had he not given up his human heart years ago, he would've been afraid its pounding would wake you, and wouldn't that be embarrassing. Your breathing is slow, even when you sleep, drifting absently, innocently over the sensitive parts of his neck, and he silently curses Babylonia's need for realism in their constructs. This, he thinks, is too much. Of course, the higher ups can't possibly be expected to consider circumstances like this in their designs, he tries to reason. Ah, it's already getting warm, and he prays you'll sleep deeply enough to miss his frame struggling to maintain its temperature.

You're so soft in his arms. He can't help but be mesmerized at the way your body gives when he presses his fingertips against your skin. Lean, strong, for a human, taught muscle as a testament to your service in the military, but human flesh is tender. A rather uncanny statement about you as a whole, he thinks distantly, watching your chest rise on an inhale.

He runs his fingers lightly over a thin, pale scar. You'd had it when he'd met you, and he'd thought distractedly the first time he'd seen it that perhaps if he'd been there you wouldn't have had it at all.

Someone else had been there, though, he thinks uncharitably, and that person had let you get hurt.

When asked, you'd only shrugged and told him that you can't remember what scars come from what missions. Some mornings, he gets the sense you can't even remember what nightmares belong to what traumas.

He always knows when you've had nightmares. You're awake too early, a little too tired, even over the morning's coffee. Sometimes he catches scraps of them over your mind link.

You always wave it off like it's nothing, always looking for an excuse to change the subject.

Like earlier today, when Nanami had dragged you off for the third time this week.

There was little reason Lee should have been as upset as he had been. You always came back safe from your outings with her, and while he wasn't enthused at the prospect of your learning to wield a chainsaw as an actual weapon, he could never quite formulate a proper reason to deny her.

Your being away from him was hardly a reason she would accept, even if he felt like he was losing his way again every time he realized you weren't by his side.

Besides, he'd just lie down and die if Nanami had the opportunity to tease him in front of you. So he'd begrudgingly let you go for the few hours he knew you'd last till you tired of her shenanigans.

You're not dreaming now, he thinks, or maybe you are (are you dreaming of him?), as you shift in your sleep, settling flush against his chest.

Where you belong, he thinks savagely. More savagely than the circumstances call for. What does anyone need of you, anyway? (What does he need of you, getting jealous like he does? It's a miracle you haven't already noticed.) What could possibly be important enough that you would leave him?

Lee shuts down that thought spiral before it goes far. He's already hashed this out last time you had been called into a meeting. (And the time before, and the time before that.) For as much as he would've liked, he couldn't have an excuse to go with you if he didn't have the security clearance. And your clearance extended much further than his.

So he waits.

And he waits patiently while you clean up after sparring with Kamui, and he waits while Liv or Banji check you over, and he waits for you to finish your tactical meetings with Lucia or Chrome. He waits for you to finish your truly inhumane piles of paperwork, and for you to stagger into the kitchen in the mornings, freshly clean after your morning workout. He waits for that smile you offer him- just him- when he silently places your coffee in front of you.

That smile is his, the tiniest piece of you that he gets to call his own.

You only ever rest for an hour, and sure enough, you sigh deeply, prying your eyes open. "You're still here?" you ask, still mostly asleep.

"I'd have woken you up if I moved," Lee replies, "and you'd never rest if I didn't come with."

You make a noise that sounds almost like a groan as you try to sit up. "I have more work to do," you tell him when you find you can't.

Reluctantly, he releases you. He'll wait till he can find it in himself to tell you to stay longer.

[erimeows]

Feverish

You were surprised to have been called to the med bay a little bit past nine in the evening, woken up by your phone ringing and Ratchet on the other end. You clutched your robe close to your body as you raced through the hallway, sleep in your eyes and worries in your head.

The lead medic had given you no explanation, only telling you to come meet him outside of the med bay as soon as you could before he hung up on you.

You wondered if it was an emergency, if someone was injured or dying, if something had happened during patrol- Wait, no. Their night patrols didn’t start for another hour or so, and if it had been an emergency, someone like Bumblebee or Optimus would’ve called you in a panic.

Still, the whole situation was weird, and you were worried, so when you saw Ratchet outside of the med bay leaning against one of the walls, you immediately approached him with your concern etched in your features. 

Upon seeing you, Ratchet stood up straight, then put a strong servo on your shoulder in a reassuring manner before looking down at you. His pale blue optics burned into your (e/c) eyes, and though you tried your best, you couldn’t read his expression.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the medic spoke.

“Optimus Prime has fallen ill.”

“What?” You immediately sputtered, and your eyes flew to the door of the med bay; closed, you couldn’t even see Optimus. You just prayed that he was okay. In the time that you’d known the Prime and his team, you’d seen him injured or sick plenty, though the former was much more common. He never prioritized his own health and tried to push himself to do things, even when he was unwell, so he took forever to recover... Hopefully it wasn’t something severe. “How bad is it? Is he awake? Have you told the team yet?”

“Hey, hey, slow down. It’s nothing crazy, (y/n), so don’t worry,” Ratchet’s words, said in an uncharacteristically gentle tone, soothed you, if only a little. If it were serious or ‘crazy’ as he put it, he would’ve told you directly instead of lying, so you believed him. “This morning, I was the first to wake and go into the kitchen to make myself an energy booster when I saw him stumble in... As in, he was literally stumbling over himself and I could see steam rolling off of him from overheat. He insisted he was fine, but something was off, so I dragged him to the medbay for testing. He’s low on energon and coolant, he was overheating, and there was a minor glitch in his vents from some battle damage that I had to fix. He’s recovering fine, but my main concern is that his chassis seems to be overheating to kill an infection. I think it’s just your run-of-the-mill space bug based on the labs I did, so I gave him some antibiotics.”

“You didn’t answer some of my questions-” You started, now concerned with whether you could actually go and see Optimus or not.

It wasn’t uncommon for the red and blue bot to ignore his own needs, but for him to have ignored symptoms that could’ve turned into something much worse had Ratchet not caught them... You wondered if there was something bothering Optimus that was making him neglect himself, more than he usually would.

“So demanding, you youngin’s,” Ratchet huffed and rolled his optics at you. “It’s not that bad, he’s awake, and no, I haven’t told the others yet. Our nightly patrol is soon and I have to break the news to them somehow, which is why I called you here. You can’t go with us anyway and they need me since we’re down one bot, so I want you to stay with Prime. He responds the best to you...” You blinked and then blushed at that, (s/c) cheeks burning bright. It was true that you and Optimus were close, but for Ratchet to acknowledge it like that... Well, you were flattered. You’d loved Optimus for as long as you could remember, and even though Ratchet surely meant that in a platonic way, it was nice to know that the effort you put into your relationship with the bot meant something. “His condition isn’t from a decline in his physical health- I had to pry like hell to find out what it was, but Prime finally broke and told me that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten an energon cube or ran a self-evaluation to make sure he was functioning properly, which is why he’s energy-depleted and why the damage to his vents went unchecked. He’s so stressed from the leadership that this team needs that he isn’t taking care of himself anymore, and now, it’s led to him falling sick again. I think there’s something else going on in that processor of his, too, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else... I just know it’s more mental than anything.”

You stopped, frowning. What else could Optimus be hiding from everyone? Was he doing something dangerous? Had something happened? Was he breaking down from stress?

“O-Oh.. Okay,” You mumbled and leaned into the servo of Ratchet’s that was on your shoulder, sighing when he ran his thumb over a sore spot on the groove between said shoulder and your collar. The two of you had developed a close bond over the past couple years since they’d been on earth, with you, Sari’s tutor and caretaker, also acting as a second medic for the team with Ratchet’s training. While he’d trained you in how to care for the Autobots, you’d given him the basics of human anatomy and medical care, so with that time spent together, you were close- whether the old grump admitted it or not. “What about his medicine? How often does he take it? Is there anything else I need to do?”

“One pill every six human hours, they’re the white gel capsules that are rationed out on the table by Prime’s med-berth. I just gave him a dose, so don’t get him another one until three in the morning. He also needs to drink plenty of energon, coolant, and lubricant to get better, so make him do it, even if he gets pissy with you- shove it down his throat if you have to... But those are all things that I already told him, and he’s fully capable of taking care of himself. I don’t need you in there to take care of him so much as I need you to stay in there to make sure he doesn’t get up and do anything stupid. You know how he gets when he’s sick.”

“Unfortunately, I do...” You let out a long sigh and crossed your arms over your chest. It was going to be hard dealing with Optimus- hell, you could already imagine how he would be trying to sneak out of the med bay to go on patrol or trying to make you bring paperwork for him to do. You wouldn’t allow either, but considering how much larger he was than you, you’d have to convince him to relax instead of just being able to hold his aft down like Ratchet or Bulkhead could. “I’ll make sure he stays put. I’m assuming you’re taking over leadership until he recovers, Ratchet?”

“As the team medic, I’m second in command, so yeah... I have to. I’d let Prowl do it, but Primus knows he doesn’t want to, and I wouldn’t let Bumblebee or Bulkhead within a ten mile radius of any form of responsibility like this. I’m really the only option.”

“Right...” You imagined what a patrol without Optimus, led by a stressed and grouchy Ratchet would be like, and then cringed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

With that, Ratchet withdrew his servo from your shoulder and waved at you before turning around and walking down the hallway. You figured that Optimus shouldn’t be left alone for too long, so you quickly entered the med bay and shut the door behind you.

It was dark, with a small night light plugged into the walls that illuminated the room just a bit. You could see Optimus, who looked uncharacteristically pathetic, weakly laying on a med berth with a small side table on the ground next to him. On the table were some energon sticks, a cup of coolant, and the white pills that Ratchet had mentioned. 

“(y/n), is that you?” Optimus asked, trying to sit up, but immediately groaning in what you assumed was pain and flopping back down. His eyes squeezed shut, a strained grimace taking over his face-plates. You pulled one of the stools by a wall-counter to the side of the room where Optimus’s berth was and put it right by his side table so you could sit by him. You were close to his face, so you leaned down to look at it as his optics slowly opened back.

He was sick, and it would take at least a few days if not a week to recover; you could tell just by looking at him. His ocean-hued optics were abnormally dark and foggy, his powder blue faceplates were stained dark with heat, and though he wasn’t steaming like Ratchet had described this morning, there was definitely still heat radiating from his frame.

“Yes, Optimus, it’s me... I’m here to watch over you,” You leaned in to kiss the top of his helm, able to feel just how hot the metal felt against you. When you pulled back, you frowned at the absurd amount of heat- almost hot enough to make your lips sting, while Optimus’s normal temperature was a bit cooler than that of an average human’s by a degree or two. “Ratchet called me down here and told me what’s going on a bit ago. The team’s on patrol right now.”

“Slag, I can’t believe Ratchet told you,” Optimus groaned again, this time in annoyance instead of pain. “I told him not to earlier when he was fixing my vents... He’s probably going to tell the rest of the team, too. I have to get up and go supervise the patrol-” He forced himself to sit up this time, forced back a wince, forced his optics to open fully, but the second you pressed a rushed hand to his chest plates and attempted to push him back, he froze.

“Oh, no you don’t!” You argued, eyebrows furrowing in frustration as a pout formed on your face. 

“Oh, yes I do!” The Autobot argued back without hesitation, but didn’t actually move to push your hand away or leave even though he was fully capable of doing so, only resting one of his servos on the one of yours that was on his chest- stumbling and overheating or not, he was much larger and much stronger than you. Then again, he probably knew that Ratchet would beat him to a pulp the second he recovered if he dared lay a single digit on you to escape the med bay. “As much as I appreciate the concern, I don’t want it nor do I need it, and I certainly don’t want it from my team. It’s bad enough that you know. I know they’ll start asking questions when I don’t go on patrol with them, and if they hear that I got sick from overexerting myself and not getting enough rest and energon, they’ll never let me hear the end of it-”

“Well, maybe that’s what you need, so lay your stubborn ass down! I did not come here with my hair all fucked up and in this stupid robe in the middle of the night when I could’ve been sleeping just to have you run away from me when I’m trying to take care of you! You getting up right now just drives home how bad you are about prioritizing yourself,” Optimus’s plump and normally soft lips, now chapped from dehydration, pulled together into a tight frown- it was the face he made when he knew he was in the wrong. “You’re getting out of your bed when you’re supposed to be resting so you can go lie to your team and tell them you’re fine when you’re not, and for what? Your pride?”

“No, I just don’t want them to worry for me. I’m already stressed out enough and the last thing I need is for that to contribute to their struggles. They’re all dealing with so many of their own problems, and I’m sick of being a burden to everyone around me...”

Optimus huffed, but gave up and laid back down, much to your relief. He still held your hand, though, and you let him- even if he was sick, you didn’t want him to let go.

“You’re not a burden, and just like how they’re dealing with their problems, you’re dealing with yours. You don’t have to be perfect to be loved and respected, and not to insult your acting skills, but... They won’t believe you if you walk out there overheating and struggling to stay standing to tell them that you’re perfectly fine. Ratchet told me how you were stumbling around this morning.”

“I hate that you’re right,” He mumbled, and you wondered why he always had to be so childish when he was sick. 

Then again, as much as you hated Optimus’s stubborn personality, it was a major component of who you’d gone and fallen in love with all that time ago. It was crazy, you thought; just the extent that you loved Optimus Prime to, and how terribly unaware he was of it. You thought it best to keep the fact hidden, as you didn’t know what his feelings were, and he had so much on his plate already... It hurt to think that he didn’t know how loved he was- not just by you, but by everyone around him, who he was always bending over backwards for, completely unaware that they’d do the exact same for him.

“And I hate that you treat yourself like this. Plus, as much as Ratchet threatens us all with consequences for our actions, he’s not going to tell them what’s going on in depth; just that you have a fever and that you’re resting, you know he respects patient confidentiality. He’ll probably even downplay it because he knows that’s what’ll make you happy.”

“No, you’re just trying to reassure me, but...” Optimus paused and let go of your hand, fully settling back into the berth. You took your hand back and looked off to the side, already missing his touch. “I know you want to, and that Ratchet probably told you to spend the night here and take care of me, but I’m alright now. I’ll stay and rest, I promise. You can go to your room to sleep, I know you’re usually not up this late, and I’d hate to keep you up with my problems.”

You didn’t really want to leave him, but you were tired, and you believed his words. His tone was genuine enough.

“Are you sure?” You asked and received a nod in return. So, you stood up and collected yourself. “Okay, if you’re sure... I’ll leave and go get some rest, then come back at three to give you your antibiotics and make sure you’ve got something on your stomach.”

Silence. 

The second you turned around to leave, though, Optimus was grabbing the back of your robe and holding the cloth between his digits, tone low as he spoke again.

“Actually, (y/n), wait... Don’t leave me. I need you.”

You turned back around and looked at him, confused. Hadn’t he just told you seconds before that he was fine and that you should leave to go get some rest so that he could fall into recharge as well? What was with the sudden change of heart? Was there something going on with his physical condition, or was it something else?

“Huh? But Optimus, you said you needed to rest...” You muttered, which earned you a shake of his head in return.

“I will,” Optimus promised. “Please, just stay and don’t question it. I lied to you, I don’t know why, but I can’t be alone right now. Don’t leave me.”

The plead from him was unexpectedly vulnerable, honest, open. You appreciated it, but at the same time, you were concerned about what exactly was going on with him- you felt like there was more to the story than stress and leadership and lack of self-care. While all of that was definitely in character for Optimus Prime, there was something else that he wasn’t telling you about, too. With how close you were to him, it wasn’t abnormal for you to have deeper discussions, but for him to admit that he wanted- no, needed you there with him and couldn’t be alone was something you’d never thought you’d hear in your lifetime.

“Okay, I’ll stay until you tell me to go, then. Thank you for being honest with me.”

With that, you sat back down on the stool and looked at him. A little bit of that light had returned to his optics, but he still seemed like he was in rough shape.

“Thank you.”

Silence again.

Instead of adjusting to get comfortable and slip into recharge, Optimus just sat there with his back against the board of the berth, optics trained on you. It had taken a while to get used to when you’d first met him, but nowadays, you were used to the Prime’s intensity, especially when it came to eye/optic-contact. Still, though, the way he was staring at you now... You couldn’t quite interpret it. Then again, could you usually? Optimus was hard to read sometimes.

“You’re not resting,” You teased, but received a serious response in return.

“I’m thinking, and then I’ll rest.”

“You’re sick, the last thing you need to be doing is overthinking like you always do,” You reached out to him, rested your palm on the side of his face and tenderly ran a thumb over the apex of his cheek. Surprisingly, he leaned into your touch with a smile.

“What if it pertains to you? It’s either I tell you and get my closure, which is daunting, or I sit here overthinking it like I always do.”

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach and flinched. It had been obvious that something was on his processor, but it had to do with you? What was it? Did it have to do with your feelings? Tense, you talked again.

“...Have I done something? I’d rather you tell me.”

“You’ve made me fall in love with you.”

The words were whispered but still felt so loud, filling the room with their impact in a way that made your cheeks hot and your heart beat hard against your chest.

“Your illness must be making you delusional,” You laughed nervously, but Optimus only gave you a sloppy grin and laughed. You moved your hand to the top of his helm to check his temperature, but it hadn’t changed- as much as you wanted to believe it, you were sure he was being serious and not having feverous hallucinations like you’d initially suspected. Still, you thought it proper to ask. “Do you feel hot? Are you overheating again?”

“No, (y/n), I’m just in love with you,” Optimus peered at you, smile falling a bit. “I mean, yes, I am sick, and I’m still overheating, but I’ve been in love with you for- Ah, I’m actually not sure how long it’s been... I just know it’s been too long.”

There was a pause, in which the two of you seemed to be processing what important things were said; in the span of just a minute or two, Optimus had boldly laid his feelings out for you on the table, unabashed and proud, the tension that came with two years worth of pining that you’d been doing solved so... Quickly. You were surprised you hadn’t felt your jaw hit the floor.

Had he really loved you the whole time? Or was this a recent development? Why was he only telling you now? Had his stress over his feelings for you also contributed to his sickness?

“I’m not sure I can talk about this in good conscience when you’re so vulnerable,” You smiled back at him, (e/c) eyes meeting his ocean-hued optics as you removed your hand from his head. Shyly, he reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “It feels selfish, but... I love you, too, and that’s why I want you to rest and get better, maybe not stress out so much.”

You kissed the back of his servo as he pulled it away, earning what you hoped was a blush and not more symptoms of overheating.

“I’d kiss you if I weren’t afraid of getting you sick,” Optimus sighed. You were sure that you probably couldn’t catch whatever he had going on since he was a Cybertronian and you were human, but you didn’t want to test that theory, so you left it alone.

“It’s okay,” You reached out to hold one of his servos in both of your hands, squeezing reassuringly. “I can feel the sentiment. Just focus on getting better, okay? We have all the time in the world.”

“Sometimes I fear we don’t- Have all the time, I mean, and I suppose that’s why I finally broke down and did this- I like to believe I’m impervious to everything around me, but I’ve already died once, and every time I get sick, I always think about what will happen if I go offline without telling everyone around me just how much they mean. I didn’t want to be scared anymore, not when it came to you.”

“I...” You stood and got on top of the berth so you could sit next to Optimus, curling into his side. “Me, too.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” The Prime asked and wrapped an arm around you. Gentle. Strong. Warm.

“Would you like me to be?” You asked in return with a tilt of your head.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll be here,” Optimus looked at you, clearly somewhat doubtful, but you only shook your head with a smile. “I promise, I won’t leave you. Just get some rest, okay?”

“...Okay.”

So, you stayed, and when Ratchet walked in the next morning to see you curled up by Optimus’s side on the berth with your (lip/chap)stick smeared on his servos, both of you sleeping peacefully for once, he couldn’t help but think that Optimus getting sick once in a while wasn’t so bad after all.

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part fifteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption

word count: 1.7k

series masterlist

Don’t tell Sam. Sam. SAM.

“Shit.”

You had to fix this in a matter of seconds. Should you slap him? Act like nothing happened? Pretend you were drunker than you actually were and play dumb?

“Wait, you’re not Sam?” you squinted your eyes like you were trying to see who was in front of you, acting like you were too drunk to remember who you were with. “Oh my god.”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Tom tried. 

“I-” you didn’t know how to respond. “Why did you do that?”

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know, it didn’t mean anything!” You’d be lying if you told yourself that didn’t sting a little. If he didn’t have any sort of feelings for you, why would he kiss you? “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Please don’t tell my brother.”

“You want me to lie to my boyfriend?”

“I mean, is it lying if you just don’t mention it?”

“It’s a lie of omission- are you really going to debate me about philosophy right now?”

“Then yes, I do want you to lie to your boyfriend because if he finds out he’ll never speak to me again.”

“You realize what kind of position that puts me in?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

You couldn’t even think straight. Feelings of confusion, panic, anger, and regret fought for control of your conscience. “What if someone had seen us? Taken a picture of us? You’re a public fucking figure, Tom. That could’ve put your career at risk.” “Don’t you think I know that?” he growled. “I don’t need you to lecture me on how stupid it was.”

“You’re an asshole,” you scoffed.

“I know.”

You stood from the table to leave, hoping he wouldn’t follow you, but he called after you, your name echoing in your ears like a warning. Reluctantly, you turned back to face him with a bitter taste on your tongue.

“You won’t tell him, right?”

You stared him down for a moment, watching nerves etch themselves onto his features before answering. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

It was a promise you didn’t want to make, but you felt like you had no other choice. You hadn’t just broken the ‘no flirting’ rule, you’d blown straight past it into completely uncharted territory. And technically Tom had been the one to initiate, you hadn’t kissed him back, but you couldn’t say you hadn’t felt something when he did. 

You had never lied to Sam before- at least not on this scale. You felt sick to your stomach, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. 

You almost didn’t want to go back to your room. You urged the elevator to go as slow as possible as you checked your appearance in the reflective wall. The tarnished gold was smudged with handprints, but you were still able to make out your ruined lipstick. You weren’t sure it had been messed up sometime during dinner, or if it was Tom’s doing but you couldn’t take a chance. You used your thumb to wipe away the evidence as the intercom on the elevator let out a ding to let you know you’d reached your floor.

With a shaky breath you pushed yourself into the hallway and forced yourself to put one foot in front of the other to walk to your room. You didn’t have a key, so you had to knock. You half-hoped Sam was already asleep, even if it meant you’d have to spend the night in the hallway. 

But as luck would have it he was still up and he opened the door seconds later. He was definitely out of it, blinking at you to put you in focus. 

“There you are,” he said tiredly, rubbing one of his eyes with his hand. “I was wondering when you’d come up.”

“I hope I didn’t keep you up,” you apologized as you breezed past him into the room. 

“Nah, I was just messing around.”

A lie, you knew, but you let it slide knowing you were keeping a much bigger secret. He was already dressed for bed in his boxers and one of your t-shirts and his hair was wet from a shower. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, noticing your anxious energy.

You nodded. “I had too much to drink.”

“Ah, me too, I think. Come take a shower. It’ll help.” 

You took his advice and tried to sober up in the shower, letting the cold water run over your bare skin until you were shivering. When it didn’t make you feel any better you turned off the faucet completely and dried off, wrapping a towel around your body and sitting on the edge of the tub. 

“Y/n?” came Sam’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

You sighed. Why did he have to know you better than you knew yourself? You pushed yourself up from the tub and opened the door. 

“I had like three more shots after you left,” you mumbled.

The color drained from his face as he took in this additional information and he frowned. “Jesus, I thought I was drunk. Do you feel sick?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, well let’s go to bed,” he urged. His accent was always thicker when he was drunk, and in a funny way it sounded like home, like all of those Friday nights back on campus. 

Sam gave you space to change into your clothes for bed and crawled under the covers to wait for you. You dressed yourself, hung your towel in the bathroom, and shut off the main light before feeling your way through the darkness over to the bed. 

You managed to get your drunk ass in bed without tripping which you considered to be a miracle. Sam slung his arm across your stomach as soon as you settled on the mattress and pulled you against his hip. You tensed underneath his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

You couldn’t relax no matter how hard you tried, and sleep taunted you for hours, hovering just out of your reach. 

Sam’s alarm woke you from restless dreaming some hours later, when the sun had barely brushed the horizon. 

You groaned and rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face in your pillow. Your head was pounding and you didn’t even want to think about facing Tom. The simple motion of rolling over had made you nauseous and you knew that standing up was going to be a whole nother ordeal. 

“Come on, love,” Sam said, nudging you with his knee. He was already sitting up, rolling the tension out of his neck from a night on the stiff mattress. “We gotta be downstairs in a few minutes.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you felt pathetic. You didn’t have the strength to be around Tom today, especially with Sam right there.

“Don’t feel good,” you moaned.

“We’re all hungover,” Sam sighed. “We’re not even doing that much walking today.”

You turned your head enough for him to see the tears running down your cheeks and he pursed his lips, expression turning worried. 

“Oh.”

“Can you make something up?” you pleaded. 

He nodded. “I’ll tell them you have a fever or something.”

You swallowed your shame and squeezed your eyes shut, whispering thanks into his shirt. Sam kissed your forehead and then got up. You vaguely heard him moving around the room getting ready, but drifted in and out of sleep as he did. 

Once he was dressed he softly told you goodbye, that he hoped you felt better, and that he’d bring you back some food later on. 

The door clicked shut and you let your guilt continue eating you alive. 

You wondered how Tom would react when Sam told his family you weren’t feeling well, if his face would give anything away. He was an actor, he should be able to handle it. But you also wondered what he was feeling, if he felt as guilty as you did- or even more so. Or maybe he wouldn’t even care. You never knew when it came to him.

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on a pillow, using the free time to respond to some messages from friends and family. It was the middle of the night back in the States, but at least they’d wake up knowing you weren’t dead. To be fair, everyone knew your communication skills weren’t the best so they probably weren’t expecting anything from you anyway, but you still wanted to put in the effort. 

The rest of the day passed by quicker than you would’ve liked. You spent it in bed, tossing and turning as you desperately tried to fall back asleep. You kept pushing the blankets off of you, then burying yourself beneath them again, flipping between hot and cold. Maybe you really did have a fever. Your clothes were suffocating you so you ended up stripping and dropping them on the floor by the bed. 

By the mercy of some higher power you were able to nap for a couple of hours scattered throughout the afternoon, but by dinner time you were wide awake again and passed the time by watching Avatar: The Last Airbender in Italian on the hotel tv. 

It was playing an earlier episode, the one where the gaang visited Kyoshi Island. You couldn’t understand any of the dialogue, obviously, but you still found comfort in the familiar scenes. 

There was a knock on the door suddenly, startling you out of your focus. You jerked your head towards the sound and scrambled from the bed. You slipped back into your t-shirt, but didn’t bother putting on pants before opening the door because you figured it was just Sam. And it was. He looked exhausted, but in the best kind of way and was holding a styrofoam container of food that was presumably for you.

“Forgot the key,” he said sheepishly, offering you the food. You smiled and took it from him, stepping aside to let him in. 

He didn’t take your cue, instead he stayed where he was standing in the doorway awkwardly. It was then that you realized he wasn’t alone, that his older brother had been standing behind him the entire time.

Sam offered no explanation, only shrugged like he didn’t know why he was there either.

“Tom?” you asked, awaiting an explanation for yourself.

“Can we talk?” 

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