#thank you for this thought it’s gonna rot my brain for the next five days—

[theganymedes]

so so so SO random but can you imagine if ellie had brown eyes… that woman would be a problem—

this ask made me open up facetune…

well, yes now i can imagine it and a problem is an understatement holy—

i present to you,

✧ brown-eyed ellie williams ✧

[peachesofteal]

Cupcakes

Maybe this will be a thing. Or maybe not. Either way, I've got the Pedro brain rot.

Joel Miller/female reader One shot - 1.1k words - AO3 Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, mentions of blood, violence, gore. Joel is bad at feelings. Descriptions of explicit sex. Joel doesn't understand you.

He doesn’t understand you. You smile. With your mouth, your pink lips curling above a deep scar on your chin. 

“It’s my trophy.” You told him one night. “I got it from a crazy fucker who had a barn fulla clickers.” He’s not sure why any person would be penning up a bunch of those things, but you did say he was crazy. “Killed him though. Was one of my first ones.” He watches your face go dark with the memory, and he tries to imagine what you were like before all this. Soft, sweet. Probably someone’s wife. Maybe you stayed at home. Made dinner, made breakfast. Maybe you were the type that made cupcakes, real ones from scratch, with sweet spun sugar icing. Maybe you took care of someone. 

He doesn’t understand the way you think. You’re always telling him to take it slow, take it easy, take his time. He can’t. He doesn’t know how. He has to move fast, quick, easy on his feet. He cannot slow down. You have no problem making pace, but it doesn’t keep you from voicing your opinion. 

“You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack. Don’t the doctors usually start old men on baby aspirin at your age?” He’s not that old, for christ’s sake. He’s not even forty-five yet, he thinks. When you laugh at your own jab, it feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. 

He doesn’t understand the way you fight. You creep around like a god damn cat, brandishing a knife in your hand, another two slipped in your boots. You liked surprise, and you hated guns. The first time he had watched you put a blade in someone’s clavicle, he thought he was going to be sick. He didn’t like you having to get so close, no matter how many times you tried to assure him you were fine. And he hates how his head spins when he watches you put that same knife in the side of a clicker’s head, twisting it for good measure, before you’re shoving off of them and bashing their skull in. 

“Can’t aim worth a shit.” You complained the day he took you out for practice. You couldn’t hit a single bottle, and he couldn’t fight the grimace that graced his face. When you saw it, your cheeks turned a different color, and guilt burned inside him. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so fucking stubborn. Why you don’t listen when he tells you to do something, when you blatantly ignore him when he tells you not to follow the crying little kid that’s begging for help. 

“It’s not like it was life or death.” He turned on you so fast he watched your eyes go wide, his arms pulling your shoulders towards his chest. “It is life or death!” He had yelled. You had run into that building without a care after that kid, and he could hardly keep up. Turns out, the kid’s mom was already infected, and he didn’t understand. He was only five. You covered his eyes while Joel put her down. You had carried him all the way back to camp, even after Joel had offered to take him, arms wrapped tight around his back as he cried. So stubborn. But you let Joel hold you that night, for the first time. In the dark, your hand running up and down his spine, your whispered words repeating over and over. “I’m fine. I’m fine, Joel.”

He doesn’t understand your feelings. The way they shift from one day to the next. He doesn’t like how it feels when he catches you crying, drop of tears webbed in your pillowy lashes. 

“What is it?” the words are gruff, and he wishes he was softer for a split second. You sniffle and shake your head. “It’s my dad’s birthday. Or would’ve been.” He gets it, he does. But he doesn’t know how to show you, so he just sits down on the step, his shoulder against yours. You wrap your hand around his knee after you’ve dried your tears, and he holds his breath while you turn your tear-stained face up towards him. “Thanks, Joel.” His name on your lips makes his blood sing. 

He doesn’t understand the way you talk to people either. The way you make everyone feel like they’re some ray of sunshine in your life. Like they matter to you. You give everyone your smile, and your eyes, and your touch. You rub Rita on her back when she throws up every second week of the month, like clockwork. You braid the Marshall girl’s hair when her mom isn’t around to do it. You try to arm wrestle John when you both get a free moment, and he can hear your laugh clear across the yard when he lets you win. 

“He gets a kick out of it.” You tell him one night. “Makes him feel good. Shitty world we live in, you know?” 

He knows. 

He wants to make you feel good.

He hasn’t had a woman under him in years. He’s all rough sandpaper, and he can’t imagine that scraping against your porcelain skin. But, that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. He dreams about bending you back on one of those shitty mattresses, your skin rippling in goosebumps under the tips of his fingers. He imagines the way your mouth tastes, how your hand would feel wrapped around his cock. He thinks about how you’d sound, with his mouth on your cunt, his tongue licking up inside you, pulling an orgasm through your gritted teeth. He’d hold your hip in one hand and fuck his fingers into you with the other, feeling the way the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. He thinks about how he’d push your hips down onto his cock, your back arched in his arms, your mouth pressing into his shoulder as you moan. “Joel.” you’d whine, tongue darting out to lick your lips, hand gripping his forearm. “Fuck, Joel. Please.” He’d bite the skin of your neck, bringing it between his teeth, pulling the blood to the surface to brand you. You’d be his. 

These things he wants, they’re just a fantasy. A gentle dream, like the memory of the world before. He knows that, he does. But it doesn’t stop him from wanting. From watching you when you’re on guard, hips swaying with every step you take. Doesn’t stop him from taking himself in his hand when he thinks about the curve of your waist, the prominent dips in your hips, the soft crease where your thigh bends when you sit, legs folded against each other. He wants to pin you beneath him until you’re shaking, wants to hold you to his chest while you sleep. He wants the sweet, soft spun sugar that melts in his mouth, the feeling of you in his arms. He wants the cupcakes, the real ones. 

He wants it all. But it’s only a fantasy. 

[winter-leftovers]

Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter twelve: A Night to Remember (12/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: Angor Rot attacks. Douxie tries to talk to Y/n.

Word count: 2566

Warnings: life update in a/n :)

(Season 1 Episode 24,25 )

Song?: Liability by Lorde

Previous - Next

Masterlist

“Why trust this changeling when all he does is betray you?” Draal stood behind the counter.

“I’m with Draal on this one” Y/n looked down from her seat on top of the counter to the floor where Jim was kneeling.

“Because…Because, unfortunately, I have to” Jim was searching through the kitchen for canned food “Is this all the canned food we have?”

“You need more? Mmh” Draal walked to the counter that Jim was looking through “We should chop him into little pieces and can him right now”

Y/n sighed “As lovely as that might sound, we still have a small issue called binding spell”

Strickler threw cereal to Draal's face making him growl.

Alfred rolled his eyes. He was tired of the changeling’s antics.

“Say you do get him out of town. What’s stopping Angor Rot from finding him?” Asked Draal.

“I don’t know. We disguise him” Jim kept looking through the kitchen cabinets.

“Disguise?” Draal looked at Y/n and then back at Jim “Angor is a cunning and ruthless assassin. You think he’ll be fooled by a hat and mustache?”

“Then I guess we’ll fight him. Far, far away from here” Jim took more food from the refrigerator.

“I do not like this plan. He could strike at any time, at any place. He would have the tactical advantage” Draal insisted.

“I don’t know, okay?” Jim turned, overwhelmed by the troll’s complaints “I don’t have all the answers!” He took a breath “Sorry, I know it’s not a well thought out plan, but we have to leave”

Y/n’s phone started ringing.

“It’s mom” she announced. She took her finger to her lips “Shh” She took a breath and answered “Hi! Mom. How are you?”

“Sorry I didn’t come home last night, kiddo. It’s been crazy over here at the hospital. Looks like my night shift is turning into a weekend and shift”

“You’re gonna be gone all weekend?” She looked at Jim “That sucks…” Y/n gave a dirty look to Draal for growling at Strickler.

“I know, but you can take care of yourself and your brother. Just stay at home and be safe”

“Yeah, I can hold down the fort” she chuckled.

“You’re lifesaver”

“That’ll look good on my resume”

Barbara laughed “Love you, kiddo”

“Love you too, mom” Y/n hanged up

“She’ll be out of the house all weekend?” Asked Strickler.

Y/n nodded

“The house would be empty”Jim said.

The three of them smiled.

“Fine. I have rocks for brains. Would someone tell me what’s so obvious?” Draal scoffed.

“I don’t get it either” Al scratched his ear.

“We are going to hold down the fort” Jim started to take back out the food he packed.

“We survived one night. He’s not going to survive the next” explained Strickler.

“Right. We fight here. Take back the tactical advantage. An ambush!” Draal was getting excited.

“I like ambushes” Al stretched his back.

“We’re going to need supplies” said Jim.

Y/n looked at the clock.

“Listen, I have a shift but I’ll be back to help. Ok?” She ruffled Jim’s hair.

—

The day passed painstakingly slowly. Y/n wanted to scream. Jim assured her everything was going fine but she couldn’t focus on anything. She thanked the universe for not having to handle the register because she was sure she would make more than one awful mistake.

The sun had finally set, Y/n felt she could breathe a little bit better. The first part was coming to an end.

The clock reminded her that she still had five minutes before it was an appropriate time to get her bag.

The bell rang and a new customer came in. Douxie. For a moment, Y/n thought about hiding but the store was small, everywhere would be a bad hiding spot, so she stood still next to an old ABBA poster.

“Y/n! I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever” he smiled.

Y/n’s throat closed. She had spent the last couple of days hiding in the darkness of her room because of him yet his smile still made her knees buckle.

“I didn’t realize” she gave him a half-smile, her voice was steadier than she thought it would be but it was also colder.

“Well… you used to pass by to say hello after work and then you…stoped” his smile fell.

Y/n nodded.

“Did something happen?” He looked concerned. Not what Y/n was expecting.

She didn’t want to look him in the eyes. She was scared that if she looked at him she would let out the screams that she’s been keeping in her chest.

“No. I guess I’ve been busy” she gave him something that resembled a smile.

“Oh” Douxie furrowed his brow.

She felt awful. She thought that Douxie and her were going great but after what he told his friend Zoe made her think otherwise. Y/n had never been close to someone so maybe she was annoying and didn’t know it, but that wasn’t the way she wanted to find out.

Her heart still wouldn’t catch up to the fact that he didn’t want her. She would melt every time she thought of him. Every time she saw that photo he took with her phone of Archie and him. And, right now, she should be nervous about facing Angor Rot yet all anxiety she was feeling was because of Douxie.

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. His brows were furrowed.

Y/n looked at the clock announcing she could leave.

“I’m sorry, Hisirdoux but my shift is over and I have to go home” Y/n turned to leave but Douxie softly grabbed her by the arm.

“What did you call me?” He whispered. His eyes were shining, full of something Y/n couldn’t explain.

“Hisirdoux? Isn’t that your name?“ she repeated, her eyes full of confusion.

Douxie just looked at her, his eyes scanning her face again and again and Y/n let him. She didn’t move until his soft grip fell.

“I have to go” she whispered and left.

Again, he didn’t say anything. He just stood there. Watching her leave.

—

Y/n drove back to the house in silence. Usually, she would listen to something: music, a podcast or even the local radio station, but this time, she couldn’t, the voices in her head were loud. Angor Rot, Douxie, magic, all turning around in her head like a tornado destroying all other thoughts that would come their way.

She stopped the car when she saw her mother’s car park at the house. Y/n jumped out the car and tried to look through her mother’s car window praying that she would find her before she could get inside, but the car was empty. She ran to the house and pushed the door. It was heavier than usual.

“Mom? ” she screamed “What’s going on?”

She finally opened the door and found her mother sitting in a box drinking water from the jug.

“Did you tell her?” Y/n walked slowly to them.

Jim nodded.

“So let me get this straight. There are good troll and bad trolls and somehow you?” Barbara looked at her son.

“If I may. There is a vast world beneath our feet, Barbara, and your son has stirred up a heap of trouble” Strickler explained.

“Dude!” Jim complained.

“This is so…” Barbara grabbed her head.

“I’ll give you three a moment” Strickler went to the kitchen.

Y/n kneeled down next to her mother.

“I can’t believe this is what you’ve been doing. All those late nights” Barbara looked at Y/n and back at Jim “You getting arrested. Going to the hospital. Why are you this…trollfighter?”

“Uh…Trollhunter” Jim corrected.

Y/n put her hand on her mother’s knee trying to comfort her.

“You should be worried about high school and girls, not this…I mean, can’t you just ask someone else to do it?”

“I’m…I’m afraid it’s a permanent position?” Jim explained “They need me, mom. I know it’s hard to believe but I’m sorta, like, their protector” Jim explained.

“And I've been there with him all I can” Y/n smiled.

“But who’s going to protect you?” Barbara grabbed her children's hands.

“Barbara, you do have to leave! It’s…” Strickler tried to talk but the cans that were hanging above them started to move announcing Angor Rot’s entrance. Suddenly, the cans exploded and the four of them jumped back.

“The basement!” Jim said

“What’s in the basement?” Asked Barbara.

“Draal was supposed to guard it” said Strickler.

A black orb rolled from the basement and with a flash cut off the lights.

“What happened to the lights?” Barbara whimpered.

Jim grabbed a flashlight while Strickler and Y/n guided Baraba behind one of the barricades.

“Stay close, mom” asked Jim.

“But I can’t see you”

Y/n saw a shadow move in the darkness and grabbed the knife she kept in her bag. Jim saw it too and said the enchantment.

“For the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command”

“Jim, you’re glowing! How…how are you glowing?” Barbara asked, impressed.

“It’s armor, mom. It’s part of the job” Jim lifted his sword dodging a purple flash.

“Mom” he screamed.

“Stick to the plan. You know what to do” screamed Strickler.

Y/n grabbed the knife tighter while hearing the fight behind her.

“You did not run, brave hunter, but the brave are the first to die” Angor threatened Jim.

Y/n gulped. It was the first time she was close to Angor Rot. His soulless voice made her shiver.

“Get her out of here” Y/n said to Strickler.

“No. No” Barbara complained.

“Go! Go!” Screamed back Jim.

“No. No without my children! Y/n! Jim!” Barbara insisted while Strickler dragged her out.

“Y/n, you too” Jim screamed.

“I’m not leaving” She jumped from behind Jim and kicked Angor Rot off her little brother. Jim attacked but Angor took daylight from him.

Y/n didn’t know what the plan was so she tried to keep the troll from striking Jim.

The trollhunter ran and grabbed the crossbow that Strickler left behind. Y/n saw his brother put a stone on the arrow and shoot Angor off the kitchen counter. She gasped when the troll grabbed the arrow.

“You have to be faster than that” The troll laughed until all the metal in the kitchen started flying to him. Y/n’s knife, all of the kitchen knives, the pans, the fridge hit him in the face.

Jim and Y/n looked at each other panting.

“You think you can stop me with booby traps?” Angor Rot emerged from inside the fridge with daylight in his hand starting the fight again.

Jim was able to dodge all of Angor’s strikes but the troll was able to kick him and lift him with his magic.

“No” Y/n tried to hit him with a stick she found but the troll was faster and he punch her in the stomach making her hit her head with the wall

‘You’re a wizard. Use your magic’ a woman whispered.

Barbara’s scream woke her up. She ran to the stairs and saw her mother coming down grabbing her neck.

“Mom! Are you okay?” She screamed and helped her down.

“My side hurts. Why…” Barbara groaned.

“Come on, I have to get you out of here” Jim grabbed her mother’s bag and with the help of Y/n took her to her car.

“We need to get to the hospital” Jim said as he sat next to her mom in the back of the car.

“They can’t help us. We have to go to TrollMarket” Y/n drove off as soon as Strickler got in.

Y/n could hear Barbara and Jim talking but couldn’t understand a thing. She felt like she was under water, the only thing in her mind was getting to TrollMarket.

In the side mirrors she saw a ball of purple light coming at her. She twisted the wheel to the right, dodging it but driving off to the forest.

“Perhaps now” Strickler coughed “ we call your friends. I think we lost him”

“No, we didn’t” Y/n furrowed her brows and accelerated when she saw Angor Rot appear in front of them.

“Get to the bridge. Now!” Jim screamed.

“I’m trying!” Y/n screamed back. She twisted the wheel one more time and got into the canal.

“Jim!” Strickler screamed.

Y/n looked through the rear view mirror and saw Angor Rot standing on top of the bridge.

“Oh, no, no, no” Her brother screamed.

The troll jumped to the roof of the car and punched the back window. Y/n accelerated without realizing Angor Rot had grabbed Jim.

“Turn now!” He screamed as he climbed back into the car.

The troll jumped back to the roof of the car and this time punched the windshield. The second punch filled Y/n with rage. She felt her whole body buzzing and her jaw tightening.

“Get off” she screamed, hitting the wheel.

A big blast of red light came out of her throwing Angor Rot into the air.

The troll quickly recovered and started throwing enchanted stones to the car making Y/n almost losing control of the car. She turned one last time and drove into the wall praying that Toby was there on time. The car went through the walls and fell down the stairs of TrollMarket catching the trolls attention.

Y/n crawled out of the car and tried to stabilize herself, the fall had made her dizzy.

“Help! We need help!” She heard her brother scream.

She lifted her eyes and everything was blurry. Her chest tightened at the familiar feeling. Last time she felt like that was when she saw the shadow staff.

The sounds of the complaints of the trolls pushed her down. Her knees trembling because of the invisible weight on her shoulder. She tried to focus on the light of the Heartstone instead of the dark cave her mind was trying to take her.

She lifted her hand to grab the person next to her for support, but no one was there. She turned to the empty space and saw a golden armor illuminated by a golden light, she lifted her eyes and saw her: the woman in her dreams, the voice that had been consoling her.

“Are you alright, sister?” She asked.

A silent tear fell from Y/n’s eyes. Seeing her made her body want to run to the tall woman’s embrace. To hold her and be held by her until her wounds had healed, until her soul returned.

“Yes…” she whispered.

The woman chuckled and stroked Y/n’s cheek. She closed her eyes feeling the warmth wrapping her in a tight embrace. Her touch felt like something she thought she could only feel in her dreams.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Toby ran to her side and grabbed her arm.

“I'm a little dizzy that’s it” she smiled taking the boy’s arm “I’m alright” She turned to her side one more time but the woman was no longer there.

“Quickly. Bring him both at the examination dwell!” Ordered Vendel.

Blinky lifted Barbara and carried her. Y/n left go of Toby and ran next to her mother.

A/n: why i choose liability is beyond me hshshs when i saw it there I laughed like ??? hello?? let’s pretend it was a great choice. I’m really glad I was able to make it!!! If you saw my last post let me tell you i have a happy update!! My dog is fine!! He has pancreatitis but overall he is fine. He is eating and walking and being the diva he is!!! Also here is mother’s day so happy mother’s day 💖🎉

[spctrsgf]

bandages

summary: Poe’s gone for too long, and the worry is starting to gnaw at your brain. (part 9 of @/ham_zero (tt)’s HTS !)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: poe x medic!reader, language, mentions of death and blood, angst and then pure teeth rotting fluff

a/n: hello besties im back at it again with my fav flyboy and HTS! (yet another) big thanks to @roselement for proofing this monstrosity! anyways hope you guys are well

a/n pt 2: lol the gif literally has nothing to do with the story but it was the best i could do okay

“Y/n.”

The sound of Finn’s voice wasn’t enough to cut through the thick layer of worry that draped over you. You paced across your small office. Your mind displayed horrible scenarios, spiraling you into a deeper worry than you already were in.

The man shook his head, catching your shoulders and stopping your pacing. He waited as your glassed eyes flicked across the room before finally focusing on his face. You gaze studied his face for any indication of why he was here, because as of right now, you were denying the gnawing feeling that was sending you into a frenzy.

Poe wasn’t- he’s fine, right? That was the question that occupied every thought you had, shaking you down to the core and preventing you from doing anything else but worry.

And oh Maker, Finn could see it in your face. The bags under your normally bright eyes, the grim line that resembled your lips, the way your eyebrows pulled together and created a wrinkle on your forehead. Even your stance with him, one of your closest friends, was defensive.

“Finn?” Your voice was gravelly from crying and not speaking, your eyes weary but hopeful.

The man sighed, dropping his arms. “I’m sorry, still nothing.”

You swallowed sharply. “Okay.”

“Y/n-“

“It’s fine! Don’t say sorry, I’m okay.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Mhm.”

“What?” Your tone now matched your stance as you stepped back.

“You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. No, years.”

You sighed, plopping down on the bed made for patients. “I feel like I haven’t. Really it’s only been a few days.”

Finn gingerly placed himself next to you, resisting the urge to succumb to the same sadness. “I know it’s hard, but he wouldn’t want you to worry.”

You scoffed. “If that was his wish, then he’d be back by now.”

“He’s gonna be okay.”

“Is he?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you voiced your fear.

“I don’t know for sure, but,” you glanced at Finn, ready to hear his uplifting words. “This is Poe we’re talking about here. Poe Dameron. He’s a good man and an even better pilot. He’s the best of the best, and he hasn’t let us down yet. Let’s not give up hope on our flyboy now, okay?”

You nodded silently. “Ill give him one more day. Then-“

Finn wrapped an arm around you, scooting closer. “Don’t go there.”

You bit your lip. “Okay.”

Finn turned to look at you, eyes downcast and hands wrapped tightly around one another, but he could see the sad smile blooming on your lips. “You need to sleep, y/n.”

You ignored his earlier comment, only offering a “Thank you, Finn.”

The said man’s eyebrows knitted. “For what?”

“For always being there,” you looked at him. “For cheering me up when I feel like I’m gonna lose him forever.”

Finn smiled. “Anytime.”

——

You woke to a beeping sound, causing you to jolt and shoot upwards. Your head swiveled violently as you assessed your surroundings. You vaguely remember Finn leaving, demanding you to go to sleep.

Huh. You must’ve fallen asleep.

You cheered happily, over the moon for a grand total of five seconds, which is when you remembered three things. One, you weren’t able to sleep because Poe was gone. Two, you’d slept for ten hours. Three, that really loud and annoying ringing was the emergency bell. Someone was coming in for help.

You shot up, gathering your medical tools and readying yourself for immediate action. The shouts from outside got louder, and you winced at the ferocity of Snap’s worried voice. And then the door was shoved open and the entire Black squadron was crowding into your office, Snap carrying the wounded person. You looked down and-

No.

No, no no no no no-

You swallowed your scream and instructed Snap to place him down. Tears dotted your vision as you bent over your boyfriends bleeding face. You assessed him immediately, shoving your worry out of your head and focusing on helping him. You cried softly as you trailed your hands down his body gingerly, testing for anything out of the ordinary.

You let out a heavy sigh as you decided that it was mostly cuts and bruises, no punctured kidneys or internal bleeding. You got the medical assistant droid you had to scan him to make sure before turning and telling the squadron the news.

“He’s got a shit ton of cuts, as you can see. He’s taken some damage, but everything will heal and he’ll be able to fly again.” You smiled at the sighs of relief from the pilots.

“How long till he’s back?” Karé questioned from behind some heads.

“I would say a few days? I got some bacta that Leia wants me to use.” You answered as per BB-8’s frantic beeping.

The squadron filed out after that, but Snap faltered at the door. “L/n?”

You looked up from where you were applying bacta to a deep cut on Poe’s lower abdomen. “Mhm?”

“Thank you.”

You smiled grimly. “It’s my job.”

“No, it’s more than just a job. You’re saving our best pilot, but also our leader and friend. Thank you for that.”

You nodded. “Anytime. And I mean that. I don’t care if it’s 3am. Come to me if he’s hurt.”

It was Snap’s turn to smile. “I promise.”

You returned to the task at hand, spraying the bacta onto the rest of his cut. Your eyebrows were pulled up and your gaze flickered over the half unzipped flight suit, watching his chest rise and fall.

He’s okay, You told yourself. He’s okay, he’s alive, he’s breathing.

But he wasn’t awake. And that’s what was really worrying you. It was that little part of your brain saying that he might never wake up.

——

You spun in your chair to face Poe for what felt like the millionth time, constantly making sure his chest rose and fell. You turned back to finish a bland report, eyes droopy and tired. Exasperated, you threw down the data pad and walked over to the pilot.

It was then that you realized his hands up close. You winced at the dried blood around the knuckles, supposedly from when the glass window of his x-wing had shattered. Grabbing gauze and some wet wipes, you picked up his right hand, gingerly wiping it down.

To your surprise, Poe grumbled drowsily, trying to yank his hand back into his chest. Your grip tightened, but the rest of your body froze. “Poe?” You said quietly, eyes wide. Your voice must’ve triggered something in him, because he shot upwards. Or he tried to, but was held down by your firm push on his chest.

“Y/n?” He responded, voice as gravelly as yours was but oh so familiar, wrapping you in a blanket.

“Oh thank the Maker.” You dropped his hand and scooted closer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You sound relieved.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling away. “I thought you were dead.”

“You have such little faith in my ability to not die.” He cracked a half grin.

“Poe! Not funny.”

“Alright, I’m sorry.”

“You better be.” You huffed, picking his hand back up and cleaning the last of the blood.

He winced. “That hurts.”

You let out a small chuckle. “It’s antiseptic, it’s gonna sting a bit.”

“Well, don’t you have some sort of magical medic shit that helps the pain go away?”

You grabbed his other hand, wiping away the blood with a smile. “It’s barely anything and I’ll be done in like ten seconds. Relax.”

“C’mon sweets, gimme some numbing agent.” His eyes pulled into a plead.

You chortled, placing a kiss in between his brows. “I’m done, silly.”

“Oh,” Poe looked down at his now clean hands. “Never mind then.”

You held up the gauze. “Last step!”

Poe groaned. “You said you were done.”

You sent him a smirk. “And here I was thinking you liked jokes.”

“You suck.”

“You love me.”

Poe fell silent after your sentence, and you focused on wrapping his hands, unaware that you said something… big. You hummed a tune you’d been introduced to by Finn, scooting closer to Poe’s face to place his arm in a more comfortable position.

Meanwhile, Poe watched you intently. He admired the careful precision your deft fingers practiced as you wrapped the gauze, always tying it just tight enough to be snug but not cut off his circulation. Your eyes were bright and happy, but he could see the bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. He internally cursed himself for putting you through that dreadful downward spiral of worry.

He stared and stared, watching your eyelashes flutter and the oh so soft touch of your fingers on his skin. Oh Maker, he missed you so much. The close attention from you wasn’t new, but it felt so different now that he knew that you worried about him, couldn’t sleep while he was gone.

He wasn’t used to care. Sure, he had Leia, but she was like a mother and he saw her extend the same curtsies to others she’d picked up from various places. He appreciated it all, but it wasn’t exclusive to him.

But you. You only did this to him. He’d watched you work, because it was mesmerizing and he took any time he could to be with you. The worry and the insomnia and the intense care and the special gauze? That was secluded to him and him only. And the bacta. You hadn’t told him, but he could see the way the skin on his lower abdomen was healing unnaturally quick. The pure love that you gave him was something he didn’t feel worthy of and he didn’t see what you saw in him, but it was making him flustered nonetheless.

Maker.

He was flustered? Poe couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt like this. The thought only made his face redder, and he resisted the urge to bring his free hand up to cover his hot face.

And so when you finished wrapping his hand and looked up, you were met with Poe’s red face and his eyes darting anywhere but your own face. You furrowed your eyebrows, unaware that he was ruffled.

Your eyes widened sharply and your hands flew to his face. “Poe?” Your tone was laced with so much worry that his face only became redder. “What’s going on? Are you okay? Do you have a fever?”

He kept his eyes looking outward, becoming slightly glassy with his lack of blinking. You brushed back the curls from his forehead, touching the back of your hand to it. “No fever, but his eyes are glassy,” you racked your brain for a solution. “What the hell is going on?”

Poe made the mistake of meeting your eyes, full and worried but as bright as ever. His hands covered his face in flash and he groaned.

You frowned. “Poe?”

“Mmm.” Came his muffled response as his legs curled up.

“What’s going on? Are you hot? I can turn down the thermostat-“

Poe realized then that he was causing you more worry and was just gonna make it worse, so he dropped his knees and grabbed your face in one fluid motion. You squeaked in surprise, nearly falling into his chest but catching yourself just in time, leading you to have one arm on either side of his body. “Huh?” You murmured as he tilted his forehead to yours.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” The worry was evident in your tone.

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath. “You just make me overwhelmed sometimes.”

The pieces clicked, flushing your cheeks immediately. He was red because you made him flustered. Poe Dameron, flustered? It was hard to wrap your head around. You were having even more trouble comprehending that you did it. You. Your mind raked over what you possibly could have done to make him flustered, but it wasn’t working properly after that confession. The lack of sleep you had gotten in the past few days didn’t help either.

“I did that?” You motioned to his face.

“Yeah?” He shrugged to play off the nervousness undertone.

“Wha- how?” You voiced your thoughts timidly.

“I don’t really know,” he mumbled, full of lies. “You just- you care so much. It’s new for me.”

You pulled away from him, frustrated at what he felt. “You’re the most caring person I’ve ever met. Poe, you always always try to help everyone before yourself, you’re willing to take a risk if it meant saving something in the long run. You are such a confident leader, which is admirable in itself. But then you have to go and add on the fact that you know your way around any type of ship, not to mention your the best pilot the resistance has, you can both fly and fix your ship, and you still find time between all of the things you have to do to make time to meet and get to know everyone on this base? That’s insane, and we all care about you so much. I care about you so much. This,” you motioned to his arm. “Is the least I can do to thank you.”

Poe stared at you, wide eyed. “You really believe that?”

You smiled earnestly. “Of course.”

His eyes softened even more and he raised a bandaged hand to caress your cheek. “I love you too.”

You frowned. “You-“

He nodded.

You grinned brighter than he’d ever seen. “I love you three.”

[xanasaurusrex]

Light - B.M.

Pairing: Beverly Marsh x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1918 words

Warnings: Love confession, mutual pining, swimming, swearing, Richie Tozier (it’s a warning within itself), kissing, tooth-rotting fluff I stg, Losers Club are aged up to 17, super crappy ending, not proofread, I think that’s it! Please let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: The other Losers know for a fact that Bev returns Y/N’s feelings, even though she’s blind to them herself. But after a set up one day, maybe she’ll see the light.

Notes: My first ever It (2017) fic! Also my first fic on Tumblr! Thank you to anyone who read this, because it’s taking a lot of courage to write this, let alone post it…. Yeah, Bev and Richie are my favorite characters in the movies, and, given my url, I figured my first fic should be a Bev fic! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

******

“She likes you back, Y/N,”

“No she doesn’t.”

“Stop fighting it, we all see it!”

Y/N looked at Richie with a roll of her eyes, turning back forward to avoid crashing into anyone or anything with her bike. “Can you stop with that? I don’t want you giving me false hope when I know she doesn’t like me back,”

Richie was the one to roll his eyes this time.

Everyone in the Losers Club knew that Y/N had had a crush on Bev for as long as they could all remember. Since the first day she saw Bev in the pharmacy after they found Ben outside the sewers and had gone in to find the supplies to fix him up.

Bev had been the one to save the day. She had distracted the man at the counter while they took the things they needed, and had come back afterwards to make sure that Ben was okay. Of course, Y/N had realized that it was not the time to be admiring Bev, seeing as Ben had just had a pretty rough run-in with Bowers, and Eddie was freaking out enough as it was.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to fall completely in love with the red-headed Derry resident. She lived in the apartment above hers, and whenever Bev’s dad fell asleep, Bev would climb down the fire escape and climb into Y/N’s window.

Y/N would sit with her and listen to what she said, or would just sit there, and the girls would hug.

On those nights when Bev either couldn’t go down to Y/N’s apartment, or didn’t need to, Y/N would lay down, and stare up at the ceiling, knowing that Bev’s room was directly above her own. She would wonder what Bev was doing, if she was reading the secret admirer note that Ben had given her, or if she was thinking of Y/N just as much as she was thinking of Bev.

It was torture.

It took a little longer for the other members of the Losers Club to realize that Y/N was falling in love with Bev. After that, they all began encouraging her to confess to Bev, because even though at the time they hadn’t seen the light that ignited in Bev’s eyes the second they landed on Y/N, they wanted their friends to be happy, and who else to be happy with but each other?

That was all when they were twelve, nearly five years ago. In that time, they had all seen that Bev loved Y/N the same way Y/N loved Bev. It was hard to watch the two beat around the bush with each other; subtle flirting that neither one noticed (though everyone else did), and even harder to see them think that the other was in love with other people, though everyone else thought it was painfully obvious to everyone else that it was each other they were in love with.

Now, as Y/N and Richie biked home together, Richie tried his best to convince Y/N for the thousandth time that Bev liked her back, no, loved her back.

“I’m sorry Rich, I want to believe you, I really do,” Y/N said for the thousandth time. “But you’ve gotta be blind to not see that Bev and Bill are in love with each other,”

 Richie quickly realized that he didn’t have enough energy to argue with her today, even though he still wanted to, instead opting for a safer topic: the test that Mr. Herrd gave them today, that Richie was fairly sure he had failed.

***

“They’re both fuckin idiots,”

Everyone nodded in agreement at Richie’s statement as the entire Losers Club watched Y/N and Bev play around and splash each other in the lake in the quarry, both of them giggling like little girls, their cheeks bright pink, and not from the sun.

“Bev!” Y/N squealed as Bev splashed her with a particularly large amount of water. After taking a second to regain herself, she retaliated by splashing an even larger amount of water at Bev.

“It’s like they’re both wearing signs saying, ‘I’m in love with the person standing in front of me, but since I’m both a pussy and an idiot, I haven’t said anything yet,”

Stan rolled his eyes at Richie’s language, but agreed nonetheless. “I wish they would just admit it to each other already. To be honest, it’s getting tiring. Should we just… lock them in a room together and not let them leave until they confess?”

“That’s an idea,” Bill smiled.

“Maybe we should say we’re meeting at the Quarry but then none of us show up,” Eddie suggested. “Chances are they’re gonna stay and hang out, and maybe if we’re lucky they’ll say something?”

Richie scoffed. “Knowing them, fat chance. I think if this plan fails, we should go with Stan’s idea,”

The others all agreed, and decided when the best date would be to set this up, and then set the date for their backup plan, and decided they would do it at Bill’s house, since his is the biggest and they would be able to hang around and check in on them regularly without having to hear them kick and scream.

“You guys coming back?” Y/N broke the boys out of their trance after her and Bev realized that they had been splashing each other for nearly fifteen minutes, when they should have been splashing the boys. “We’re getting bored!”

The boys all gave each other a sly look before immediately running back towards the water, splashing Bev and Y/N immediately, all of them laughing as they got splashed back.

***

“Are they coming?”

Bev and Y/N had been at the Quarry for nearly half an hour, both of them laying against the rocks, sunbathing, in just their bikinis. It took everything in both of them not to stare at the other and admire everything about them.

Y/N glanced at the watch that she had taken off her wrist, anticipating that they’d be swimming, and saw that it was now forty five minutes after noon, the time all the Losers had agreed to be at the Quarry.

Y/N sighed. “I don’t think so. Maybe they all forgot?”

Bev laughed. “You think Stan forgot? He’s probably at Richie’s with the others trying to get Richie out of bed. How much d’you wanna bet he stayed up all night on his Gameboy again, and now he’s sleeping the day away?”

She said the last part in a mock-dreamy way, a tone of voice that had Y/N’s heart soaring. She had always loved the sound of Bev’s voice, and there were certain times when it would just go straight to tug on Y/N’s heartstrings. It was never a particular time, just… Bev.

Everything about Bev was magical to Y/N. Somehow, all it took was one small smile, one of Bev’s smiles, and all of a sudden, Y/N was a completely different person.

Normally, she didn’t really like physical contact. It wasn’t anything in particular that had caused it, she just never was a really cuddly person. She could enjoy a short hug, or a quick high five, but anything longer than about three seconds made her uncomfortable

She wasn’t that way with Bev. Y/N would hug her for eternity, and would never want to stop. The two often held hands, and told everyone else that it was purely platonic, though Y/N secretly wished that it would be something more.

Y/N knew that Bev was still talking, but she couldn’t focus on anything more than the way that Bev’s lips were moving, as they moved quickly and perfectly to form the words that were on Bev’s brain.

The conscious, realistic part of Y/N’s brain told her that she should be focusing on what her friend was actually saying. That in just a few seconds, Bev was going to do the thing that they always did in movies where she waved her hand in front of Y/N’s face and asked if she had heard anything she said.

Sure enough, she did.

“Y/N/N, are you even listening to me?” Bev asked with a small chuckle.

The sound alone sent more heat to Y/N’s cheeks.

“S-sorry,” Y/N said quickly, shaking her head, almost as if that would clear her head of the thoughts she shouldn’t be having about her best friend. “Just uh… feeling a little out of it today, that’s all,”

Bev nodded in understanding. “Yeah. Today just… feels weird.”

Y/N nodded in agreement.

The two stayed silent for a few more minutes, before Y/N sat up again. “So, since the boys aren’t coming, we probably shouldn’t wait for them to start swimming, right?”

Bev nodded in agreement, before jumping up and running towards the water, yelling, “Last one in the water is a dancing clown!” behind her, before immediately splashing into the water, getting to a deep enough area, and diving in.

Y/N cursed herself, and then immediately launched herself into the water after Bev, inadvertently splashing her with water as she came out of the water herself at the perfect time.

“Got you!”

***

Y/N shook the water droplets out of her hair, refraining from watching as Bev dried out her own hair, slipping the loose dress that she had brought with her over the bikini that she had worn.

It was now five forty five, and Y/N was going to be expected home for dinner soon. After realizing this, she had reluctantly told Bev that she needed to head home.

Since they lived in the same apartment complex, Bev said she’d go with her.

The sunlight from the sunset bounced off the lake and onto the two girls standing on the beach next to the lake in the Quarry.

Y/N couldn’t help herself this time. She looked up to Bev, and found that she was staring at her the same way, admiring how the golden light danced across her skin, from the top of her coppery red curls to the very bottom of her feet.

Before she could even process what she was doing, Y/N quickly closed the space between her and Bev, pressing her lips against Bev’s.

It only took Bev two seconds to kiss back, relieved that Y/N had been the one to make the first move.

After a few seconds, they realized that they needed air, so the two reluctantly pulled apart, resting their foreheads together.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Y/N whispered breathlessly.

“It was love at first sight, wasn’t it?” Bev asked. “I saw you with the boys and I knew that it was always going to be you. It’s always been you, Y/N,”

“It’s always been you, Bev,”

The two pulled apart, Bev’s arms still wrapped around Y/N’s neck, Y/N’s hands placed lovingly on Bev’s waist. As she looked into Bev’s eyes, she saw a glint in her eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

The light made Bev’s eyes even brighter than they already were, and the longer Y/N looked at her, the more she fell in love.

“I love you, Bev,” she confessed quietly, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulder at the confession. “I always have.

[7spaceace7]

Secrets (A Donatello x Reader)

This is incredibly self-indulgent and was really just a fic for me to obsess over tesla coils, but my girlfriend convinced me to post it- so here it is! It got kind of long too, but I hope you enjoy! 

Word Count: 3236

Reader is given feminine terms in this one

Mild cursing (thank you Raph)

Absolute fluff attack, the sweetness will rot your teeth

Singing was your greatest passion. From a young age, you had been roped into music, the emotions it could represent with just a few notes and some relatable lyrics. It was happiness, it was sadness, it was anger and excitement, and it was everything you couldn’t express well enough with just words. Being a writer, sometimes that would get frustrating, but music helped you overcome the most challenging spots in a new piece or story. This is why you would constantly have earbuds in as you sang along to every song you’d memorized on your Spotify shuffle. 

And Donnie noticed this. Every time you would enter the turtles’ lair, he would see you unplug and pack-up your headphones. Hell, he was even able to detect your singing from the sounds of the sewer tunnels echoing with every step you took closer. He’d hear you talk about the music or soundtracks of your favorite games and movies, analyzing what every slight twinge or reprise would allude to. And he loved every part of it. He loved getting to see those moments where music was all you could focus on. Your heart rate rose exponentially in anticipation and excitement. Your eyes would screw shut while you broke into a grin. Your hands would mimic motions to the beat as you played on invisible drums, or strummed a nonexistent guitar. 

It was adorable to him, to say the least. But he never told you so. He never said a word, in case this might scare you off for coming across as “creepy” or weird. He knew most people probably didn’t pay this close attention to little things like that, but then again, he also knew that most people weren’t madly in love with you. 

Which Donatello was. 

He couldn’t tell you, because once he started rambling about you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. And if he didn’t stop, then he’d run the 89.07% chance risk of telling you how he’d been in love with you since the day they met you. That was way too high for him to be comfortable. No, he couldn’t tell you, no matter how badly he wanted you to know.

“Okay, so what if you just show ‘er you’re interested instead?” Raph asked, half paying attention to his brother’s predicament, half pounding the punching bag before him into the ground. Leo was in the dojo meditating, and Mikey was playing video games in the living room, which left the two middle brothers to their own devices. For Donnie, this was literally. His three-fingered hands fiddled with his latest electrical circuit. It was bound for sending the right amount of voltage into his inventions without needing four power strips and a generator all on their own. Unfortunately, he was too distracted to actually delve into its components, and settled for breaking and piecing it back together again.

“Show her? How would I do that?” Donnie’s voice trembled at the thought.

“I dunno, you’re the genius here,” Raph huffed, “There’s gotta be somethin’ in this place that you think she’d find cool. She loves music, right?”

“Yeah, like a lot, she even-”

“Rhetorical question, Don, heard the rant plenty,” His brother cut him off. Pausing his violent onslaught of the dummy, he turned to face him. “You’re nervous ‘cause you ain’t ever done somethin’ for a pretty girl before, I get it. So do somethin’ you know you’re good at. That’ll take the nerves off, your plan works, and then I won’ have to listen to you babbling about whatever new fuckin’ thing she did today. Win win.”

The younger turtle paused. “That was...actually pretty sound advice, thank you, Raph.”

“Anytime,” Raph nodded, a smug smile tugging at his lips from being able to help. Problem was, now he was invested. He’d listened to his brother’s rants and rambles and failed plans of possibly confessing for weeks now, what was gonna happen once he finally did it? Raph plopped onto one of Donnie’s bean bag chairs. He didn’t bother to pick up the training dummy. “So what ya gonna do, smart guy?”

Donnie blinked a few times, glasses twitching on his nose as he pushed them up. He didn’t know it, but you coined this his “brainstorming face”. He fiddled with the circuits once again.

“Uh...I’m not sure,” His tongue went dry. A million ideas fly through his brain each minute, and this decides to be the time that he can’t think of a single one good enough. Figures. “I could build her something? Maybe a new stereo, or upgrade the one she has.”

Raph made a noise of disapproval. “You can do better, any old fix-it guy could do that.”

“Fair. Maybe I could- ow!”

A short buzz of the air cut him off as his fiddling paid off. To the world’s great irony, a light bulb several inches away lit up.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good, I…” Donnie trailed off. The purple-clad turtle’s eyes widened as he registered what happened. “I’m better than good, I just had an epiphany!”

“Epipha-what?”

“An epiphany, sudden realization, an idea!” Donnie flicked his goggles back down, enhancing his vision with the magnifier on it. Wires were tugged in and out, and a transmitter was displaced. With a snort of triumph, he raised it to the air for his brother to see. “This is the answer!” 

“A tiny board thing. Just what she’s always wanted,” Raph rolled his eyes, but Donnie was prepared for this.

“Not just a tiny board, a tiny board with this!-” With great haste, Donnie was next to Raph, holding the board out properly. “My side-side project, this little thing, look at the coil here, this is it! This is a tesla coil, capable of transmitting thousands and thousands of volts of energy surging through the air, powering anything within its radius, which is perfect and exactly why I needed to reconfigure it to power my lab and this one new machine I’m working on, but that’s not why this is the perfect idea!”

“Wow, please continue, professor, I’m dyin’ to know.”

“Glad you asked! Watch this!” One aux cord, T-Phone connection, and light-dimming later, the lab went dark in anticipation. And suddenly, with the press of a play button on Donnie’s shuffle, music started to fill the air. But it wasn’t coming from his phone. It was coming from the coils, surging and creating not only electric energy that was visible to the human eye as it sparked, but music. Sound. The beats and notes of the song playing sprouted out in the form of electricity.

Raph’s green eyes became transfixed on the sparks flying out. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right!” Came the squeals of utter nerding out, “This is only a tabletop version of an SGTC circuit, my own type of it anyway based on Tesla’s original designs, but if I reworked it, made it bigger, made it lifelike and maybe four or five of them, I could create the most advanced musical performance this city has ever seen!”

“I’m gonna pretend I know everything you just said because clearly this is your nerd thing,” Raph started, utterly confused. Even still, a reassuring smile framed his features. “But this looks pretty damn cool. This right here? Exactly what ‘m sayin’, Don.  This is you.”

“Do you think she’ll like it...?” Donnie asked in a hopeful voice. He wasn’t just asking about the invention. 

“Course she will.”

~x~

A couple weeks had passed since that fateful conversation with Raph. He’d been in and out of the lab since then, but between patrols and the mandatory bathroom breaks, there was hardly a time he wasn’t working on his great new project. You weren’t even allowed to go into the lab, per his request, for all his time there.

However, he always made sure to make at least one movie whenever you’d come hang out at the lair from work.

Finally, one Friday night, the set up was complete. Pride swelled in Donnie’s chest as he looked at his creation: six symmetrically placed tesla coils sprung up from the ground and walls all around his lab space. The coilings wrapped around metal frames, spiraling into a beautiful arrangement of engineering, if he did say so himself. Mikey said it looked like the lasers out of a DC comic, which was also not a bad thing to be. He just hoped that you would like it. All of it was for you, of course, but over the weeks that he’d been preparing it, he found more beauty in the music of tesla coils than he ever had appreciated before. 

Donnie thought he might thank you for that, if he could get his nerves around it.

God, he was so nervous. Anxiety rushed through his body like the electric pulses he was perfecting. They were already done, but it was all he could do to distract himself while waiting for you to arrive. Maybe the frequencies weren’t in the right key. What if they sounded better this way? Or maybe the firing power wasn’t enough? Trajectory looked alright, maybe it just-

“Donnie?”

“Gh! Y/N, hey!” Stammered the surprised terrapin after knocking his head against the top of a coil. His goggles were on the setting of night-vision, but that didn’t account for night-spatial-awareness, it seemed.

“I got your text to come,” You tried to smile at him, but the dark laboratory proved to make that difficult. “How come it’s so dark in here?”

“Uh, well, that’s p-part of the surprise! Eheh. Gimme just a second-”

You waited patiently outside of his lab, vision still applicable, but grew concerned the more strange noises and clangs you heard coming from inside. This was definitely a whole new level of “Donnie Surprises” just by how nervous he seemed about it.

You yelped when his hand grabbed your arm and dragged you back inside the darkness.

“Okay, uh,” He started, before clapping his hands together for the lights to switch back on, “This is what I wanted to show you.”

Your gaze spun all around the lab. After adjusting to the light, you could clearly see giant mechanism after mechanism placed strategically around in a dome-like setup. Coils that protruded like round-edged spikes circled you both, and in the center was a metal cage. 

“Oh my god…” You almost whispered. A large grin broke out onto your face as you stared in quiet marvel at the scene. His plan was working, and Donnie lit up with an outstretched arm in presentation.

“These bad boys are called tesla coils-”

“Tesla coils!” You squealed in imperfect unison to what you assumed was the start of an explanation. “You made tesla coils, Donnie, holy shit!”

“You’ve heard of them?!” Donnie exclaimed, eyes widening behind his glasses.

“YES!” Your hands began to wave around excitedly, “Oh my god I used to be OBSESSED with these things! I heard about when I was a kid from that old movie, oh what was it, it was like the apprentice’s-”

“Sorcerer’s Apprentice!”

“THAT! Yes!” 

“I haven’t seen that movie in years!”

“Me neither! All I remember is that Hiccup’s voice actor totally nerded out and programmed his giant tesla coils to play music for the girl he wanted to impress, and it was the coolest thing because these giant machines were playing music, music out of nothing but sparks of electricity at different frequencies, which to be honest probably would have caused more of an energy problem than the movie suggested because goddamn do they take up a lot of power, but I was like six and didn’t care!” You laughed  in an energetic burst of word association, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Donnie could have kissed you then and there for that alone. 

A grin crept onto his lips as he watched you ramble on about the movie, leaving all anxious thoughts to fall from his mind. For once, someone actually understood one of his passions. Better than that, she was explaining the process to him of all people! Sure, she was intuitive enough to know he didn’t need it, he literally had just built them after all. This was just out of pure excitement. Someone in his life was talking about science and technology like they were the most fascinating things on the planet, just as the purple-masked turtle believed it was. Well, second only to the ecstatic girl in front of him. 

“-And so, I randomly remembered it again not that long ago, so I looked it up and found so many videos on YouTube about it. I kid you not, I listened to tesla coils and tesla coils alone for a solid week.” 

You breathed heavily, a little winded after such an intense info-dump. God, he always loved when you got excited about something. 

“This is kind of surreal,” Donnie chuckled a bit, pushing up his glasses when they tumbled down his nose, “I had no idea you’d get what these were, much less have known so much about them.” Donnie’s eyes widened at his own panicked-fueled blabbering. “N-Not that I think you’re stupid! I just-- I mean it’s not-- common? It’s more of-”

“A niche interest, yeah. No worries,” You finished for him, signaling his stuttered words hadn’t fallen on offended ears. Donnie quietly sighed in relief. Time ticked by in seconds, but even that was much too fast for this martial artist to grasp. If he could have constructed a device to pause the fabrics of time, he would have long ago, simply to relish the moments with you that meant everything to him. It wasn’t your fault your eyes captivated him more than any element he’s worked with.

“So,” You began eagerly, startling him out of his thoughts, “Are we gonna listen to some zappy poles go brrr or what?”

Donnie snorted at your juvenile word choice. “Yeah, totally. Now, ah,” He walked over toward the large cage in the center, stepped inside, then poked his head out with a dorky grin. A large, green hand stood outstretched towards you. “I think you’d better step inside my cage.”

“If you keep quoting the damn movie like this, I am going to explode from excitement, and it will be your fault!” It was a wonder how you hadn’t caught onto his plan yet, honestly. You made no sense of hesitation before grabbing his offered hand (even though your hands were small enough that they hardly matched his palm’s size), and clambered into the cage in front of him. This was a great excuse for you to be close to him without it being weird. And now, with your back brushing up against his plastron, the butterflies in his chest told him it was totally a good call.

Donatello would take this secret to his grave, however.

“Put your hands on the rail here, yep just like that,” Donnie nodded after your hands found the safeguard rail. A couple buttons tapped into a laptop later, he settled his own hands next to yours. “Let the magic begin.”

Magic would have been the understatement of the year. A coil in front of you quickly shot out its first spark. Familiar music breached the sound barrier to your ears. The one behind you both caught it instantly. Spark after spark sent back and forth between the coils, soaring through the lab like the most incredible game of electric catch.

“Whoa!” You laughed when the sparks would bounce off the cage itself, pressing closer to the turtle behind you (much to his surprise every time). Your shining e/c eyes never left the electric bolts shooting out. “This is insane!”

“Heh, glad you like it!” Donnie watched you closely that entire time, more entranced by your excitement and wonderstruck self than anything he’d created. He could power up the tesla coils anytime of day, but this was a special moment he’d never be able to recreate in a controlled environment. This was no experiment, this was real and it was happening right now. 

The only thing left to do was tell you how he felt. 

“Y/N, I have to tell you something,” He began, stepping away to give you a bit of space. His heart rate was increasing by the second. The way you turned to look at him wasn’t helping, either. 

“What is it?” You spoke softly, somehow able to be heard over the music. Donnie could hardly meet your eyes, so he took your hands in his instead.

“I...I don’t know how to say this exactly,” He started, “I’ve been trying to do it for months, going over every possible conjuncture of words, something that would be heartfelt and honest, poetic even? But the truth is, words aren’t my thing, th-they never have been. I’m a science guy, I take things apart and put them back together again, I figure out what makes them work, I see life as a million tiny parts to analyze.”

He paused his quickened speech to take a breath. Your hands squeezed his larger ones as an offer to continue.

“And so, I’m...bad at feelings. I see it all as chemicals and components used by the brain to create action and reaction. But now I’m not so sure if that’s all they are, and really the only thing I am sure about is that it’s because of you that I’m questioning everything I ever thought I knew. Maybe, maybe life is more than atoms and chemicals, and instead it’s about..moments. Moments like this. Moments that...that I..that I really want to keep forever and play over and over again.”

“Donnie…” You spoke. This time he squeezed your hands.

“I know I’m rambling and I should really get to the point, so what I’m trying to say is,” He took another breath, steady this time. His gaze met yours again. “I want to live these moments with you every day. You’re special to me. You’re part of our family, but this is more than that, this feeling is-”

“Love.” You finished for him. Both of your eyes widened as you realized the other felt how you each did.  

Donatello nodded slowly, hesitant to be so certain, but knowing it was true. There were no more words to be exchanged after that, only actions, only movements so soft and gentle that the large terrapin was certain he’d break if they could fit in his hands. Your hands left his and instead reached up to grab the long ends of his mask, and tugged gently for him to reach you. He leaned down without a thought. A three-fingered hand found your waist this time. 

You kissed. Soft, human lips connected to his slightly chapped reptilian ones. The turtle had waited for this moment since he realized the attraction he felt towards you was not just powerful chemical reactions, but true feelings. It wasn’t biology, it was chance and fate and one-in-a-million all at once. As the sparks continued to (literally) fly, Donnie let his eyes close. This was the present. He was here, he was holding a great new adventure in his hands, and there was a brilliant future just around the corner. 

The song may have finished, but this is what would last forever. 

[petersasteria]

It's meeeeeeeeeeeee ! Yeah, last one but i think it's great, any boy you want, (i saw Harry but i let you choose) 40 - 42 - 52 and maybe 46 yeahhh i see angst in that request, angst and fluff at the end...

I'll do peter hehe bc why not

40. “When my date takes me home and kisses me good night, if I don’t hear the Philharmonic in my head, I dump him.” 42. "To tell you the truth, I think your theories about relationships are total bullshit.” 46. "How could you do this to me?” “Because I’m in love with you!” “Ha! What kind of an excuse is that?” 52. "You’re so afraid of being hurt, you’re gonna end up all alone.”

Parker || Main || Taglist

Peter Parker was afraid of commitment.

He was scared that his heart would be so broken it couldn't be fixed anymore. Using his brains, he came up with theories about relationships and it all came down to sex. He figured the reason why things don't work out is because after people have sex, they leave and won't be bothered to call. Then he swore to himself that he'll only have one girlfriend and make sure she'll be on board with his theory.

Then he found you. You were perfect for him and he looked at you as if you put the stars in the sky. He was so in love and truly, you were in love with him too. He could remember your first date like it was yesterday.

It was 6PM and Peter was already at the restaurant. He was fifteen minutes early and he knew it was ridiculous, but he just wanted to make sure that you were telling the truth about being an early bird to things because you hated being tardy.

Lo and behold, you were right. Five minutes after he arrived, you came in and saw him. You went over and sat down, "You're early. What time did you get here?"

"You're early too and don't worry, I got here five minutes ago. Shall we order?"

The night was filled with joy and laughter and wholesome things. He offered to walk you home and you agreed. You really felt like Peter was the one for you. It was too early to tell and you were probably being silly, but you just knew.

Stopping in front of your door, you turned to him and said, "I had such a fun night, Peter. Thank you for this."

He smiled, "No problem. I had a fun night too."

"You're different from all the other guys who took me out because they were so boring. All of them were my first and last dates. You see, when my date takes me home and kisses me good night, if I don't hear the Philharmonic in my head, I dump him."

"Oh, I see." Peter said nervously. "D-Do you hear the Philharmonic in your head now?"

You smiled sweetly at him as you stepped closer, "Not only do I hear the Philharmonic, but I also hear Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber's orchestra going off in my head and they're all telling me that I should totally kiss you."

Peter smirked slightly before leaning in to kiss you. Needless to say, you shared a passionate kiss that night and Peter was practically skipping on the way home.

He would never forget that day. It was the most magical experience he ever had and now he fucked it all up. To be fair, you knew what you were getting into because he told you about his theory about relationships, but you thought you could do it. Then it all came crashing down on you.

Hot and heavy kisses were shared between you and Peter. It was all so heated and passionate and just thinking about him on top of you made you excited. Then Peter stopped.

"Why did you stop?" You asked, your mind still hazy from all the kissing. You never knew you could be drunk all because of someone's kisses, but there you were.

Peter sat up and said, "I stopped because we were about to have sex and remember what I said? I don't do that because it quickly ends a relationship and I don't want that to happen to us."

"But just consider this as a next step in our relationship. It'll be fine because I'll still be here!" You exclaimed.

"How am I so sure that you'll stay, hm? Every girl I've been with left me after sleeping with me. How am I so sure that you won't do the same?"

"Because I'm different!"

"That's what they all said!" Peter shouted in frustration. He ran a hand through his hair and stood up to pace back and forth. "I thought you understood the theory I told you about? I thought you agreed?!"

"I did, okay?! I agreed with you at the time because I thought I could do it, but it turns out I can't! I'm human, Peter! I have needs! This is normal!" You raised your voice, not wanting to yell at him just yet.

"Y/N, this is the reason why we work so well together! We don't need to be sexually intimate with each other! We're better off this way." Peter reasoned, but you shook your head.

"You see, all I can see are things that benefit YOU. YOU think we're better off this way! YOU think we don't need to be sexually intimate. YOU think this is why we work so well together, but what about me?"

"What about you?!" Peter was confused at this point. He didn't understand your side.

"I just wanted to enter the next step of the relationship with you!" You exasperatedly said.

"And that's sex? C'mon, Y/N!" Peter groaned.

"Yes, it is! Because that means we're comfortable with each other! It means that we're doing it not because we want to get laid, but because we love each other. We can be open to what we like and don't like and it doesn't even have to be fast and- and rough! It could be slow and steady because it'll be your first time with me and my first time with you. It's special, Peter, and you don't even want that!" You frowned as tears welled up your eyes.

Peter went over and sat in front of you, cupping your face with his hands, "We could do something else, babe. I'm sorry, okay? I just-"

"I trust you enough to take care of me when we finally have sex. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course, I trust you."

"Then, how could you do this to me? How could you deny something so natural like that?"

"Because I'm in love with you!"

"Ha! What kind of an excuse is that? That's horse shit, Pete!" You cried and pushed him away. Peter frowned, "So where does this leave us? I don't want to fight."

"I don't want to fight either, so I guess we're done." You told him. His heart dropped and shattered into a million pieces.

"Um, why?!" Peter asked. You looked at him and said, "I got all dressed up for you and I did my makeup just for you and I prepared everything just for you! I even cleaned my room extra clean just to please you and-"

"I am pleased! This is the cleanest your room has ever been!"

"-And all I wanted was to take the next step with you! That's it! Since you won't give me that, just go. I'll find someone who will." You said sadly.

"You do understand why I came up with that theory right?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I do. You were hurt and I respect that, but hurt is always present in a relationship. You can't stop that. You're so afraid of being hurt, you're gonna end up all alone." You told him.

Peter never forgot about that night and his heart broke. After a few weeks of pitying himself, he finally got his shit together and thought of ways to get you back. He now realized where you were coming from and he couldn't blame you. You were right. You were human and you had needs.

Now, here he was in front of your door with a big bouquet of your favorite flowers and a box of your favorite donuts. He rang the doorbell and waited for you to open the door.

You opened the door and to his surprise, you were all dolled up. Seeing you like that made him panic, thinking you'd be on a date with someone else.

"Oh, hi." You said, leaning on the doorframe.

"Um... are you going somewhere? Because if you are, I'll come back tomorrow." Peter said.

You shook your head, "I just got home, actually. I went on a date."

Peter stared at you and asked, "Did you hear the Philharmonic? Or Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber?"

You could only shake your head.

"The last time I heard them is when I went out with you. You're the one for me and I know it."

This made Peter smile. Perhaps he had a shot again. "You're the one for me too!" He grinned, making you stare at him.

"What're you doing here?"

"I came to apologize." He sighed, handing you his gifts.

"Oh?" You said, taking the gifts from him, muttering a small 'thank you'.

"Yeah, I want to say sorry for being blind about your feelings. A relationship is between two people and it was unfair of me to assume you wanted the same; it was unfair of me to think that you wouldn't have urges or anything like that. I'm sorry." Peter said sincerely.

"I hope you forgive me and I hope we can start again because I can't lose you. I love you too much to lose you. You mean so much to me and I'm not letting you go without a fight." Peter said and you stared at him for a while.

"To tell you the truth, I think your theories about relationships are total bullshit." You confessed and he nodded.

"I know and that's why I'm getting rid of them. Fuck those theories! They can rot in hell for all I care. They're even scientifically accurate or something. It's based on my experience and I don't understand why I call it-"

"Peter, let me finish." You chuckled and he quickly shuts up. "I just want to be with you. That's all. And when I say that I want to be with you, I mean that I want to have ALL of you. Except for that theory thing and I'm glad you're getting rid of that."

"Can we start again?" Peter asked nervously and you nodded with a smile.

"Of course, we can. Come in and we can finish all the donuts you bought!" You laughed before walking in with Peter trailing behind you and closing the front door.

i got carried away but i had so much fun writing this!

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @parkerpeter24 @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @beverlythrillz @juliediggory @yaya4302 @alexx-stancati @dummiesshort @spideyspeaches @angelsgrxzer @dreamy-clousds @hunnybunimdun @supred12 @more-like-reyna @caitsymichelle13 @aayaissaa @wannabemobwife @bigassnocash @repostcentral @imcalledflorence @eccedentesiastqueen

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @alinastarkrovs @celestialholland @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @pqrkerr @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg @moonchild-s-blog @itszulli @blossomhollands @prancerrparkerr

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch44: Peanut Butter And Poop

Introducing: Baby Rogers!  

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut! (NSFW) No under 18s. Teeth rotting fluff…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Yeah, I love this chapter. I hope you all do too. And thank @angrybirdcr​ for the edits. They melted me.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 43

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 March 2020

“Is everything ok?” Steve asked, tiredly. For the fourth time in about two minutes Katie had shifted, next to him, rubbing her hand over her distended belly. She was fed up now, and he wished he could help her get comfy, he really did. But until their baby decided to make an appearance, there wasn’t much more he could do. She had been feeling crappy all day and had thrown a spectacular tantrum at the fact Steve had shaved his stubble. His reasoning being that although she technically had another four weeks to go, she was already at full term size, and if their son arrived, who knew how long it would be before he managed to shave again, but she was having none of it. Steve had simply stood there, calmly whilst she’d ranted and raved about that and everything else she was pissed off about before she’d broken down into tears and apologised, falling into his arms and going on another rant about how shitty she was feeling.

His wife was such a strong person normally, the strongest person Steve knew in fact, but over the last week she’d been up and down mood-wise more than any other time during her pregnancy, and he hated seeing her so uncomfortable and upset. And tonight, she was physically the most uncomfortable he had seen her yet. “Yeah, he’s just kicking.” She sighed, rolling over to face him. “Really hard, Steve. It fucking hurts.” Steve gave her a sympathetic smile as he reached out and pressed his hand to her abdomen, waiting, and then he felt another sharp dig, Katie hissing air out through her teeth.

��Maybe he’s gonna be a footballer.” Steve yawned, attempting to make light of the situation. But it didn’t work. “Well I’m not a football.” She grumbled, pressing her hand to her stomach just above Steve’s. “Pack it in, Buddy, please.”

Co-incidence or not, their baby stopped kicking, but Katie was still restless. She moved again, and again, until finally Steve sat up, flicking on the lamp, his face silently asking her what the issue was. Katie had to smile, there wasn’t a shred of annoyance in his face, despite the fact it was almost one in the morning thanks to her sleep patterns being all over the place. Instead, there was nothing but love and genuine concern across his handsome features and coupled with the fact she was hormonal and just felt a bit shit, she started to cry.

“I’m fed up Steve.” She sniffled. “I’m fat, I had to get Natasha to shave my legs yesterday, I can’t see my feet, I need to pee all the time and…” “Sweetheart,” he chuckled, softly looking down at her, taking his face in her hands, “first off, you’re not fat, you’re pregnant. Very pregnant. With our baby.”

“I know but,” she continued to cry, “I just…”

Whatever it was that she just, Steve never found out as she simply sniffed again and moved so that her head was lay across his lap over the covers of their California king, and he gently stroked her hair. And for a moment he thought he’d managed to sooth her until she gave another groan.

“For fucks sake, I just can’t get comfy.”  She sniffled, her sobs coming again as she sat up. “My back and my shoulders…”

Okay, this he could try and help with. Smiling to himself he looked at her. “Assume the position, Doll.” She gave out a watery laugh as she heaved herself over so she was facing away from him. Steve shuffled down so that he was led right behind her and doing the one thing he could to try and get her to feel a little relaxed, he slid his strong hands up her top, his deft fingers gently massaging and rubbing at the spot he knew was sor in her lower back.

“You still feeling funny?” He asked, his fingers working the tight and aching muscles and she nodded.

“Have been all day, but it’s not uncommon apparently. Pepper said she felt iffy for the last four weeks of her pregnancy.” “Four weeks.” Steve mused, his fingers stopping momentarily before he started again. “As if he’s gonna be here in four weeks.” “Well, it could be any time technically. And I hope it is, because frankly, I can’t wait to get him out.” She sighed, as Steve’s hands gently guided her top, well his shirt, over her head so his hands could work at her shoulders and her upper back.

“Hmmm,” he gently swept her hair off her neck so he could plant a soft kiss there. “I can’t wait but I’m gonna miss your bump.” “I’m not,” she scoffed, as his hands crept round to cradle her distended stomach, “and stop feeling him and carry on. Until he’s here this is all about me, remember.” She shrugged her shoulders, emphasizing her message, and he chuckled. “Sorry doll.” Relaxing into his touch, Katie felt herself leaning back against him and then Steve made the best suggestion he had ever made to her in the history of suggestions.

“Why don’t I run you a bath? I know it’s late but Emmy’s at Brooke’s for the evening and it might help.” Katie groaned “God, yes.”

He kissed the back of her neck and threw back the covers, climbing out of the bed, not an inch of tiredness displayed in his body. Despite herself, Katie had to bite back a laugh. He was like a coiled spring at the moment. He had told Rhodey a few weeks ago that he wasn’t travelling anywhere now until the baby was here for fear of missing anything, but as a result that relentless energy which normally went into his work was bubbling inside him, and even his runs every morning and night were doing nothing to help.

Laying back she closed her eyes until she heard him calling and she heaved herself up, taking a moment to steady herself before she rather ungraciously waddled out of the room, one hand pressed to her lower back, the other clamped under the bottom of her bump.

“Give me a hand when you need me to lift you out.” Steve chuckled as he passed her on the hallway and she spun round, glaring at him. “Like last time.” “That’s not funny.”

“No, but it will give me the chance to eye up your naked pregnant body, something I intend to make the most of as it won’t be around for much longer.” “You’re a piece of work, Steven Grant Rogers.” She huffed, as she turned and headed to the bathroom.

Steve settled back on the bed and flicked on the TV. There wasn’t much on but in the end he logged into Netflix and settled for a few re-runs of ‘Brooklyn 99’. The show was absurd, but it was easy watching and he quite liked it, Jake Peralta reminded him in an odd way of a cross between Tony and Thor with his incessant energy and ridiculousness. About halfway through an episode, he was struck with another good idea, and he headed down into the kitchen to make them both a drink, cocoa for him and a ginger and honey tea for Katie. He carried the mug into the bathroom where his wife was slumped in the tub, surrounded by lavender and camomile bubbles, her eyes closed. She looked up at him, one eye open as he walked in, handing her the mug and she let out a soft groan.

“My hero.” She smiled as he dropped a kiss onto her lips before heading back into their room.

It was about another thirty minutes or so when she did call him. He knew she hated this, needing his help, but getting out of the huge tub on her own was simply a physical impossibility.  Once he’d helped her out and she was wrapped in a robe, she dropped on the bed, seemingly pacified for a moment until she suddenly wanted peanut butter. Heading into the kitchen, he opened the cupboard and a cold feeling of dread washed over him when he realised they were out.

Fuck, fuck!

He was certain there had been three jars in there this morning. He frantically searched the rest of the kitchen, just in case Katie’s baby-brain had meant she’d stashed it somewhere else, but there as none to be found. Grimacing, he took the stairs two at a time and winced at the look on his wife’s face when he told her she must have eaten it all, before hastily placating her as her eyes watered, reminding her that the twenty-four hour mart was only a five minute drive away.

Which was why he found himself there at twenty-seven minutes past two on a Sunday morning buying six jars of the damned stuff.

Captain America, buying jars of peanut butter at half 2 in the morning for his wife.

Steve smiled to himself, he didn’t give a shit.

“Missus is Pregnant.” He nodded to the man behind the counter, who gave him a look of confusion as he dropped the jars onto the side by the till. The guy laughed, and nodded.

“It was chow-mein with my gal.” He chuckled as Steve handed over the cash. “That was a pain in the ass at four am on a Sunday. Trust me buddy, you got off lightly.”

Thanking his lucky stars that his wife’s craving was, indeed, relatively simple, Steve headed back home and she nearly cried when she took a jar off him and dug in with a spoon. They sat still for another hour, at which point Steve really was ready to fall asleep, and after eating half of a jar in one go, Katie screwed the top back on and set it back on her nightstand, her eyes drooping slightly.

“Think I’m okay now.” She nodded softly and Steve hummed into her hair, reaching up and turning the TV and lamp off and settling them down. She managed about half an hour before she groaned again and heaved herself off to the bathroom, this time for a pee. When she came back she lay facing him, her fingers gently tracing his jaw and he cracked one eye open and they just lay there, watching one another in the dim light.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“What for?”

“Keeping you awake.”

Steve chuckled and leaned forward to give her a soft kiss “Honey, it’s fine.”

And it was, it really was. He would be tired tomorrow, he knew that, but he didn’t care.

He closed his eyes and he was on the verge of sleep, teetering between dozing and being fully under when…

“Steve.” Katie whispered softly, and he grinned as he knew that suggestive tone way too well. “I’m horny, now.” “You really know how to pick your moments, Mrs Rogers.” He sniggered a little, opening his eyes,  as his mouth met hers again, the slight taste of the peanut butter made him smile even more as both his lips held her bottom one as the kiss lingered.

“Blame your son.” She murmured as she kissed him again, her hands creeping into the back of his hair, eliciting a soft moan from him.

And that was all it took.

Steve was obliging, and kissed every part of her body he could, taking care to avoid the rather tender chest area. It was slow, soft, as their bodies joined in the ever so familiar dance, tangled in the sheets of the bed. As his wife rode him, her large bump not allowing for any other position, Steve’s hands never left the side of her hips, the pair of them groaning loudly as her release took her over the edge and he followed shortly after. They lay there, gently on the bed together, Katie’s back pressed into his chest, for half an hour or so afterwards. Steve’s hand was strong yet gentle over her waist, his hand caressing the place his son was currently dwelling, thumb stroking her stretched skin in soft arcs. And when he felt her finally relaxed, he took a quick glance at the digital clock on the night stand, giving a slight roll of the eyes as he saw it was almost half four in the morning.

****** Katie woke later that morning at little after eight, trying not to groan at the now quite nasty pain in her back. She didn’t even try to go back to sleep, knowing it was utterly pointless. Instead, leaving Steve flat out, exhausted from the nights activities, she headed into the kitchen to make herself a peppermint tea and stuck a heat pack into the microwave, grabbing another jar of peanut butter.

The pains in her back and lower stomach continued to get progressively worse through the morning and along with them so did Katie’s mood. Emmy had called asking to stay at Brooke’s for a bit longer, which suited Steve as it meant he could give Katie his undivided attention, so he agreed and promised to collect her later in the evening.

As they both stood in the kitchen, Katie trying to decide what she wanted for lunch, eventually settling on meatball subs. They began to cook together, something to take Katie’s mind of feeling so uncomfortable, but as she turned to pass Steve the cheese so he could start loading the bread up, a searing pain flashed across her abdomen causing her to give a loud exclamation and clutch at the counter edge with one hand, dropping the packet of grated cheddar from the other.

“Katie?” Steve turned to face her, frowning “Sweetheart?”

She turned into him, curling her fists into his shirt, pressing her head against his chest, with a groan, her forehead digging into his collarbone. He gently held her back, supporting her as she breathed through the pain.

“I - mm.”  Katie’s voice was trembling, a combination of fear and excitement. “I thought it was just cramps but now I think…”

Steve understood immediately. And despite all the classes, all the prep, everything, he suddenly felt really, really nervous “What? Now?”

She looked up into his eyes which were wide, in a combination of anticipation and trepidation and laughed. “I think so, yeah.”

Steve went straight into Captain mode. The maternity bag was loaded into the car, Dr Kellet was called who told them to monitor the contractions in frequency and duration, and a bath was run to try and make Katie more comfortable but it didn’t work.

Neither did a soft walk round the block with Lucky.

Four hours later, Katie was stood, bent over the back of the sofa as Steve rubbed her back, helping her breath through another contraction. They were now coming every thirteen minutes and getting far more painful (thanks to Steve’s impeccable time keeping skills for that one) when Katie noticed him step back slightly as she felt a dampness spread across her legs.

Her waters had gone.

“Baby, I think-“ “I know,” she grit her teeth as the pain subsided again. Steve was already on the phone to Dr Kellet and as he thanked her and placed the phone into his pocket he gently placed his hands on the side of his wife’s hips as she straightened up.

“She’s told us to go in.” A smile flickered on his face and despite the pain and stress she was feeling, Katie couldn’t help but find her heart swelling at the excitement on his face.

Steve called Tony, asking him to collect Emmy, then rang the girl herself who squealed with excitement at the fact her brother was on his way. A quick chat to Jennifer’s mum to explain, the woman wishing them both luck, and Katie was in the car and they were off, making quite possibly the most important journey of their lives. Steve drove carefully but determinedly to the Birthing Centre, his thumb tapping out a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel, casting glances at Katie every chance he got, and by the time they had arrived twenty minutes later the contractions were arriving five minutes apart.

He helped her change and got her settled in their airey room, his hand curling round hers as she lay back on the bed, both of them pleased to see the familiar face of Dr Kellet as she walked into the room just as another contraction hit Katie. Once it had subsided, Dr Kellet smiled moved to examine her.

“Yes, you’re in active labour Mrs Rogers.” The Doctor smiled. “You have a little while to go yet though so, we’ll try and get you a little more comfortable, okay?”

Katie nodded.

“And you still don’t want an epidural?”

“No.” She shook her head firmly, and Steve raised her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it. She’d been adamant that there were no needles going anywhere near her back, not after what HYDRA had done to her, which broke Steve a little when she’d said that to him, not only at the memory of what she’d been through, but also a the fact she was going to be giving birth with little relief.

Three hours later, however, Katie was seriously questioning her decision. She was on all fours on the bed, desperately trying to find some release that the gas and air wasn’t really providing anymore as Steve rubbed her back, feeling utterly helpless.

“I don’t like you-” Katie groaned, her voice cutting off as another wave of pain washed over me. “I don’t you seeing me like this. I don’t like it, you should go”

Go? Not a chance, Doll, he thought to himself as he glanced up at the midwife who simply smiled at him. He leant down so his lips were by Katie’s ear and she turned her head, burying it into his shoulder, as his arms supported hers. “Katie Marie Rogers, I have seen you throw tantrums that rival the ones a two year old could produce, I’ve seen you with a face full of blood and a broken nose, I’ve watched you crawl through a dirty hole in the floor to disarm a bomb, and come out trembling. I’ve seen you scream the house down after spotting a damned spider, I’ve seen you half dead,” the words caught in his throat at the memory, “I’ve seen you shit faced to the point of puking, not to mention that I’ve seen you in every single position going.”

Katie snorted loudly, before gripping at his arm as another wave crashed over her.

“None of that could ever make me love you any less. And, seeing you here now, about to give birth to our boy, well I couldn’t love you anymore if I tried. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

She looked up at him through her tears and he wiped at her face with his thumbs, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, before she let out a gasp.

“I need, I need to push.” The panic tone in her voice made Steve glance up at the Doctor as Katie grabbed athis arm. “Steve, I…oh shit, I want to lay back, please, I need-“

“Okay, okay, I got you.” Steve assured her as the Doctor nodded at him to oblige. He gently helped her onto the back as Dr Kellet stood forward.

“You good?” She asked Katie who shot her a scathing look and Steve had to bite back the snort at the fact the Doctor merely raised an eyebrow whereas most people would be quaking in their boots at that infamous Stark glare. Instead, she merely smiled. “Let’s have a look.” Katie grabbed Steve’s hand with a force he didn’t think possible, and it almost made him wince slightly, but he was damned if he was showing her that she was hurting him. As far as he was concerned, she could break every damned finger he had if it meant she was okay, that their son was okay.

“Yep, we’re in business.” The Doctor said, nodding to the midwife that was in the room. “Okay, Mrs Rogers, next time you feel ready to push I want you to do so gently, follow my lead, Steve is gonna help you with your breathing okay?”

And Steve tried, boy did he try. But after twenty minutes of pushing, Katie was pissed off, tired, in agony and just wanted it all to be over.

"You’re doing so well, Sweetheart.”  He smiled gently, as he brought her hand up to his lips.

“You are NEVER touching me again.” She grit her teeth and he let out a chuckle, wiping her clammy forehead with one hand.

“Alright, Katie.” The midwife looked at her from the foot of the bed. “Next time, I want a big, strong one. He’s crowning. Chin into your chest…”

“Fuuuuuck…” Katie screamed, another contraction hitting her and she let out a yell, gripping Steve’s hand as she pushed with everything she had.

You’re doing amazing, Katie. Just one more.” Steve dropped a kiss to her forehead, his heart was beating so loud he was sure she would hear it. “Come on, you got this, and I’ve got you, okay?” Another yell, one final push and then…

A piercing scream hit their ears as Katie sagged back on the pillow panting before she looked up, relief crashing over her. Steve was beaming from ear to ear, his eyes wet as he looked at his wife, in awe at how simply amazing and strong she was.

“You did it.” His voice cracked as he kissed her head. “Oh, Baby Girl, you did it.”

“He’s here?” Katie asked, dazed slightly as their baby was placed straight onto her chest, where the buttons at the top of her gown were undone, and instantly the warmth she felt was like nothing she had ever experienced before, her chest filling as she held their baby boy tenderly, tears pouring down her face.

“Oh God.” Steve breathed, his voice cracking, as Jamie was covered with a towel, resting on his wife’s chest, his piercing cries subsiding at the skin to skin contact. Steve rest his head against Katie’s, wiping the tears that had pooled at the end of his nose away, and the pair of them looked down getting their first glimpse of their son.

“Hi, baby!” Katie finally managed to speak, looking down through her tears at the tiny bundle in her arms as his head lay against her chest, making little snuffling noises. “We waited so long for you!”

She finally tore her eyes off the precious bundle and looked up at Steve, his eyes swimming with tears of joy as her own continued to fall down her cheeks. "It’s our boy, Steve.”

“He’s perfect.” Steve whispered again and gently smoothed down the towel with a trembling hand so he could see their baby’s face clearly. Steve instantly noticed he small spattering of dark blonde hair on his head, and there was something distinctly Stark-like about his nose. Then his eyes barely opened, but through them he saw a sliver of beautiful baby blue. 

The Soldier’s heart instantly swelled so full he thought it would bust from his chest. He already knew this, but as he looked down at his son, it simply solidified the fact that he would take on the world to protect that little bundle in his wife’s arms, shield or no shield.

They remained wrapped in their own little bubble so much so that neither of them knew what was going on around them. Eventually, their baby was gently taken to the opposite side of the room whilst Katie was cleaned up. He was weighed at 7lb 4, which was, given Steve’s size, rather small but still perfectly healthy. Steve couldn’t help but hover, watching what they were doing with his boy, wincing as they gave him a shot of vitamin K.

“Does he have a name?” The nurse recording his AGPA scores looked up. Steve looked at Katie and she nodded at him.

“James” Steve spoke, his voice croaky. “Jamie.” “Alright.” The nurse scribbled something onto a band which was placed around his wrist before he was wrapped in a clean towel and the midwife looked up at Steve.

“Would you like to take him, Dad?”

Steve nodded, swallowing.“Yeah, yeah I would.” “Okay, well if you’re comfortable doing so, open your shirt, he’ll appreciate the skin to skin contact…”

Steve did was he was told, undoing the four buttons on his dark green Henley and could do nothing but gasp as his son was laid in his arms, tears once more forming in his eyes as he cradled their child to his chest for the first time, awestruck as he brought his lips down to drop gently on his head.

“Hey, Pal.” He whispered unsteadily. “I’m your Dad.”

Katie watched the two of them, more tears springing into her eyes as Steve sat down on the chair next to the bed and she just watched the pair of them, Steve’s eyes not once leaving his boy, who Katie noticed was now trying to burrow into his chest face-first.

“What are you doing, lights too bright for you, Buddy?” He asked softly.

“It’s called rooting.” One of the nurses looked over “He’s wanting to feed. Are you ready to try Mrs Rogers?”

Katie nodded and sat up slightly, as Steve gently handed him over and the midwife helped Katie position him correctly. It took a while, but when he finally latched on and began to suckle, Katie looked down into her baby’s face, trying to memorize the way the tiny hand curled against her skin. Steve leaned close, simply watching, his heart full of a love like nothing he had ever felt before.

“You’re beautiful,” he told Katie suddenly, and she laughed a little, because it was anything but true at that moment in time.

“I think the serum is failing as your eyes are clearly not working properly.” She retorted, glancing up at him.

“I mean it,” he repeated, leaning in to kiss her temple. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And look what you made!”

She glanced down at Jamie, who was feeding enthusiastically and smiled. “What we made…” “Yeah but you cooked him.” Steve’s finger slid under her chin so that she was looking back up at him, and he held her gaze, driving his words home. “Thank you.”

Katie leaned into his touch as his palm caressed her cheek. Carefully, he moved to sit on the bed beside her, guiding her head against his shoulder and gathering his family into very gentle embrace, his eyes not once leaving his baby.

"I love you,” he whispered into her hair - and he didn’t budge from that spot until Jamie was done nursing and Katie was then escorted to the toilet. In there she changed out of the gown and into a pair of pyjamas and returned from the en-suite of their private room, with a tired smile on her face to see that Steve, had dug out a baby grow. Katie watched as he placed their son in the cot by the end of the bed, with infinite tenderness, and the new parents dressed him for the first time.

“I suggest you both get some sleep whilst you can.” Dr Kellet smiled, peering into the cot where Jamie was now yawning, eyes drooping. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you. If you need anything though, just hit the call button and one of the Midwives will come in. Congratulations.” Steve and Katie both thanked her as Katie headed over to the bed, dropping exhaustedly onto it.

“You should go get some rest.” She yawned and Steve shook his head.

“I’m not leaving you.” Steve snapped a quick photo of the sleeping baby before settling on the bed as Katie lay her head on his chest. “Not a chance.”

It wasn’t long before she had fallen asleep, exhausted, and Steve sat up slightly, firing the photo off to Tony, Emmy, Nat and Rhodey. The replies of congratulations flooded in, along with a selfie of Tony, Pepper and Emmy on Tony’s sofa with their thumbs up. Steve snorted, it was almost two am now, but he knew that Tony and Emmy would be too excited to sleep. He placed his phone back on the night stand and settled down next to his wife, his hand straying into her hair. A little sniffling noise came from the cot at the side of the bed and Steve sat up, to check on him, but Jamie was sleeping soundly so he relaxed back, taking a deep breath.

He was in way over his head, and there was no planning for this mission, not one bit. But Steve found he didn’t mind. As he dropped a kiss to Katie’s head, he closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh knowing full well that the 7th March 2020 was a date he was never going to forget.

****

Katie opened her eyes and stared around the unfamiliar room which was lowly lit from a chink of light flooding in under the door. She sat up so quickly that her head spun, and she dropped back against the pillow, taking a deep breath. Then her eyes caught the man in the chair by her bed, and the memory of the night before came back. At some point in the night Jamie had woken for a feed but post it wouldn’t stop fussing and Katie’s half-conscious attempts to soothe him had failed. Steve had at that point stepped in and taken him, insisting that she get some rest as he paced the room with his son, gently rocking him to and fro. Her husband was now leaned back in the chair by her bed fast asleep, their little boy slumbering on his dad’s chest, secured by Steve’s large, gentle hands. Katie felt her heart swell and she grabbed her phone, noting that the time was only a little after 6:30 am, meaning that it was only two hours or so since his feed. She took a quick snap, contemplated taking Jamie back to his crib before she decided he was fine where he was. Steve wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Glancing at her two boys, she sank deeper into her pillow, quietly satisfied, as she drifted back off into a light sleep.

Steve was woken by a soft cry about forty-five minutes later, and despite his best attempts Jamie wouldn’t settle.

“Sorry, Doll.” he looked at Katie as she woke, blinking as she pushed herself up. “I think he’s hungry and I can’t help him in that department.” With a smile she took their baby and began to nurse him again, something Steve didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing. Once he was fed, the midwives appeared and offered them breakfast which they gratefully accepted and then Katie positively moaned when she was told she could shower. She was dried off an and in a clean set of Pyjamas just in time for visiting hours which started at ten.

At one minute past there was a knock on the door to their room.

“Hey Mommy and Daddy!” Pepper peering round the door clutching a huge blue balloon as Tony followed, Morgan in her stroller. The tot squealed when she saw Steve who stood up to greet them as Emmy flew into the room, locking her arms around Steve’s waist. He dropped a kiss to her head and looked up as Natasha stepped in hot on their tail.

”Congratulations Cap.”  Tony beamed, shaking Steve’s hand before he pulled him into an embrace. Katie smiled up at her family, Jamie clutched in her arms having just been fed again as Tony moved and stepped up to the bed, kissing the top of his sister’s head as he peered down at his nephew.

“Well done, Kiddo.” he whispered softly and she smiled at him. 

Pepper was next to congratulate her, then Natasha and finally Emmy who gave her brother an appraising look. “Hmmm takes after you, Dad.” She smirked up at Steve. “Where else is he gonna get a face like that?” Steve rolled his eyes as he stood up from where he had been crouched saying hello to Morgan. He glanced at Tony who was peering down at his nephew, a huge grin on his face.

“He’s beautiful, guys.” Tony said and Katie smiled up at her brother and he made a gesture with his arms. “Can I?”

Katie nodded, and moved to gently pass him over, and Tony took him in his arms with a soft chuckle.

“Hey, Champ.” He beamed down as Jamie moved softly in his arms, kicking slightly. “How’s it going?”

“How are you feeling?” Pepper asked, looking at Katie.

“Tired but, I’m good.”

“So, does he have a name yet?” Tony looked at Katie and Steve took a deep breath, his arms crossing over his chest. If truth be told, he was a little nervous about revealing the name they had chosen, Bucky wasn’t Tony’s favourite person, but before he could answer he spotted Katie giving Emmy a small wink.

“Horatio Montgomery Rogers.” Katie nodded. “Monty for short.” There was a pause whilst Pepper, Tony and Nat all exchanged a look and Steve bit on his lip.

“That’s…” Tony began, searching for words as he glanced down at the baby in his arms before he finally settled on, “…unusual”

Emmy looked at Katie again before they but out laughing.

“I can’t believe you fell for that, Uncle Tony!” Emmy cackled. “Such an idiot.”

“I resent that.” Tony pouted and Natasha cleared her throat.

“So what is his name?” Nat pressed. Katie looked at Steve and gave him a nod.

“James Anthony Samuel Rogers” Steve took a deep breath as Tony blinked. “Jamie for short.” “James Anthony Samuel.” Tony whispered looking down at Jamie. “James. Anthony?” His eyes locked onto Katie’s, then Steve’s, before they flicked back down to his nephew. “You actually named him after me?”

Katie smiled. “Yeah, guess we did”

“And I was only joking too.” His voice choked as Natasha, stepped forward to peer down at the baby in his arms. “But the James is after Barnes, right?” She looked up. Steve took a deep breath, his eyes flickered to Tony who was simply gazing down at his nephew with adoration as Katie answered.

“There’s so many people we’ve both known or know with the name James.” She shrugged. “Rhodey, half the Howling Commandos, but yes, Bucky was one big reason, another was Grandad Jim.” Tony looked up at her, smiling, his eyes wet. “Yeah, Grandpa Jim was pretty awesome”

“And so is his uncle-slash-grandpa.” She smiled and Tony gave a loud sniffle.

“Wrap it up Kiddo, you’re killing me” He shook his head as he turned to Natasha. “We’ll call that one a draw.”

Steve rolled his eyes, as Natasha shrugged. “Suppose you can’t be wrong all the time, Shell-Head.”

Jamie was passed around, and Emmy finally got to have a hold as she sat in the chair, Steve crouched by her side as she peered down at the baby. But when it was Natasha’s turn, the red head grew almost as emotional as Tony as she held him and he curled his tiny hand around her finger.

“Good job he likes you.” Katie smiled at her, “you know, seeing as you’re gonna be his god-mother and all…” “Me?” Nat’s head whipped up and she looked at Katie, then Steve, her eyes full of tears. “I mean…” “Well, there’s no one else for the job so it kinda falls to you by default.” Steve teased from where he was perched on the arm of the chair.

“You’re such a douche.”  Emmy muttered, elbowing Steve in the ribs and Tony’s face split into a grin.

“Kid, you have no idea…did you know his nickname is Spangles?” “Spangles?” she grinned and Steve groaned

“No one calls him Spangles other than Tony, because Tony is an idiot.” Katie shook her head.

At that point, Jamie let out a huge shriek and Natasha promptly crossed the room to hand him back to his momma, who placed him over her shoulder and he nuzzled into her neck, his nose brushing against her jaw line. As she looked around the room, her eyes locked onto Steve’s and he gave her, quite possibly, the most affectionate look she could ever recall him giving her. And at that moment, although they were surrounded by their friends and family, she felt like the only woman in the world.

*****

Thankfully as everything had gone as well as expected they were discharged later that day and they could go home. Steve, having practiced about a billion times, expertly clipped Jamie’s car seat into the base of the Porche SUV they had borrowed from Tony a few weeks ago (the Camero just wasn’t baby friendly) and Katie climbed into the back, positioning herself in the middle seat so she was by their son for the drive home.

Emmy had gone back to Tony’s to give them the evening to settle in, and with Lucky also with them, when Katie and Steve walked into the house, Steve carefully carrying the car seat containing the most precious cargo he had ever carried, it struck them that they were suddenly on their own.

With a baby.

Steve set the car seat on the coffee table in the lounge and the two of them sat on the couch, looking at their baby before they looked at one another, neither of them having a clue what to do next.

Thankfully, a piercing scream from Jamie jolted them out of the stupor and dictated exactly what they needed to do. As Katie set about feeding him, Steve headed into the kitchen to make them something to eat and by eight pm the pair of them were whacked and ready for bed but Jamie had other ideas. It took a lot of pacing, frustrated sighs and prayers but he finally settled a few hours later and the new parents crawled between their sheets, exhausted, frustrated and feeling like they were embarking on a mission which was far bigger than any they had faced before.

*****

Steve heard his wife get up, but didn’t register why. Not at first. He dozed for another half hour or so before he heard a cry and he sat upright, looking around. He blinked, saw the empty crib at the side of the bed and smiled to himself. Swinging his legs out of bed he pulled on a t-shirt and grabbed the bag he’d had waiting for weeks out of the back of his closet before he headed down the stairs.

Katie was sat on the sofa in one of his button downs, her bare legs crossed, munching on a piece of toast when he paused in the door to the lounge taking in the scene. The domesticity of it all hit him for a moment and he felt himself welling up, he’d never in his wildest dreams dared to imagine he would ever be this damned lucky. But here he was, gorgeous wife, beautiful baby…

At that point, Jamie started fussing and she instantly placed her hand on his tummy whilst he lay in the wicker Moses basket in front of her, gently hushing him, all the while a look on her face of infinite tenderness. As he settled she smiled, simply gazing at their boy for a moment before she looked up and smiled at Steve. He walked over to her and dropped a soft, lingering kiss to her lips and she smiled.

“Morning.” She whispered and he smiled against her mouth, kissing her again before his attention turned to his boy and he gently reached into the basket, his finger softly running down his son’s cheek.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” “Could you feed him?” Katie grinned and Steve let out a soft laugh and shook his head.

“No, suppose not.” He looked at Katie and nodded to Jamie “Can I?”

“Steve, honey, he’s your son. Of course you can.” He placed the bag he was holding on the coffee table, Katie still not noticing it, as he reached into the basket and gently picked his son up, cradling him to his chest as Jamie buried his face into his neck, still sleeping. Steve gently moved to sit on the couch and Katie watched the pair of them, smiling softly.

“That’s for you.” He nodded to the Tiffany bag. Katie glanced at, blinking in surprise before she frowned slightly.

“What for?”

“Well it used to be a tradition to buy your wife something after your first child and Tony assured me it still was so…”

She beamed at him and reached over for the bag. As Steve cradled his boy close he watched his wife pull out the blue ring box and open it, her mouth dropping open as she looked at the platinum Eternity band which was studded with sapphires and diamonds.

“It’s beautiful.” She whispered, turning to him and leaning over to give him a soft kiss. “Thank you.” Steve beamed at her and watched as she rejigged the rings on her wedding finger so she could place it in between her wedding and her engagement ring. She flashed her hand at him to show him what it looked like on.

“Looks good.” He smiled “I clearly have good taste.” “Of course you do, you chose me.” ****

“Come here.”

Steve turned to look at Katie who was on the other side of their bedroom and he frowned. “What?”

“Just come here.” 

Steve crossed the room towards her where she grabbed the bottle of his aftershave and sprayed an amount to his neck.

“What are you…” he frowned as she stood up to take a deep sniff.

“Oh thank God!” She groaned. “I can sniff you again without feeling sick!”

Steve snorted, and shook his head, a grin on his face as Katie began to spray the Hugo Boss around the room, sniffing and smiling to herself before she stopped and grimaced.

“Oh, that’s…” She looked down at the crib and Steve did the same.

“Oh.” Steve wrinkled his nose

“Your turn, Daddy.” She patted his back. “I’m going for a shower.” Steve looked at her, slightly panicked as Jamie began to let out a soft cry “What, alone?” “Don’t tell me Captain American can’t deal with a bit of poop.”

“It’s not that. I might do it wrong or…” “Steve, relax, what’s the worst that can happen?” She eyed him, as he bit his lip, watching his reaction carefully. Whilst he had been amazing that night in the hospital, once they had gotten home and away from the safety net of midwives, she had fast realised that Steve had suddenly grown incredibly nervous when it came to their baby, asking permission to pick him up, wind him, cuddle him and Katie was keen to nip that in the bud right away. She knew he wanted to help as much as possible and she didn’t want him to constantly be second guessing everything he did.

“I err…” Steve stuttered and she cut him off. “You saw me before.” She shrugged, heading into the en-suite. “You’ll be fine.”

Steve watched her go and then peered down at his son, swallowing slightly before he picked him up and took him into the nursery. As soon as the baby-grow was off, Jamie still crying slightly, Steve suddenly felt completely inadequate. Cursing to himself, he laid Jamie gently on the changing mat, wrinkling his nose and trying to shut out the scream that was ringing round his ears. At that point he was seriously starting to believe that this was worse than facing off against thirty HYDRA agents single headedly. Taking a deep breath and telling himself to get it together, he managed to clean Jamie, get a fresh diaper on, and then once he was dressed again, he picked the baby up.

“Come on, Pall.” He soothed softly, his large hand gently smoothing his son’s back as he walked over to look out of the bedroom window “You know, that there is the best city in the world,” he glanced over the Brooklyn skyline, “one day I’ll show you all the places I used to go, tell you all about my life and the Rogers clan, and who you’re named after. Take you to meet your Grandma…”

He stopped talking as he realised Jamie had fallen silent, and was now relaxed completely against him, his face gently pressed against his shoulder.  “Thass ma boy.” He whispered, dropping a kiss to his head. He turned to see Katie was stood in the doorway, her hair damp as she was wrapped in a towel gown.

“See.” she smiled as she crossed the room towards them both. “I told you it would be okay.” She gently smoothed a hand over the baby boy’s head before dropping a kiss to his crown.

“Should I put him down to sleep now?” Steve asked and Katie looked at him.

“Do you want to put him down?”

“Not really.” Steve admitted, with a little smile. “You gonna drop him?” “Shut up.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Of course not.” “Then no, you don’t have to put him down.” Katie smiled “He’s your baby, Steve. If you wanna cuddle him, cuddle him.” “Sorry, I’m fussing again ain’t I?” Steve sighed.

Katie gently stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to her husband’s lips. “Fussing is fine, just don’t doubt yourself. I don’t know what I’m doing any more than you do, but we’ll figure it out.”

Steve smiled, as he gave her a soft kiss. “I still swear you can read minds.”

“No, I can just read you.” She corrected. “Now, before you go get Emmy, can I leave you whilst I take a quick nap? He’s gonna want a feed soon and I’m so tired. ”

Steve looked at his wife, then to his son who was perfectly content, his little nose and mouth now resting firmly against Steve’s collar bone. He smiled back at Katie and gave her another soft kiss.

“Think we’ll be okay.”

 **** Chapter 45

**Original Posting**

[slytherflynn]

Old and New | Pt I

Blaise Zabini x muggle!reader

word count: 1971

summary: y/n is new to France on a study abroad trip. Blaise is visiting France post-Hogwarts. rags to riches story of an unfortunate muggle falling for a complicated, ridiculously wealthy person who just so happens to also be a powerful Wizard.

a/n: this started with an idea, became a moodboard, then became an entire fleshed out fic! I thought it would be short but my brain had other ideas. enjoy! note: I did write this from my personal perspective in life. as a result it is not very inclusive. I plan to change that with my next fics, I’ve just been having a really hard time lately and have been writing a lot of comfort fics and/or self-inserts to escape from irl bc irl is rly shitty for me rn

It’s a brand-new start, in a brand-new apartment, in a brand-new city, in a brand-new country... an ocean away from home. I can bring Tacoma to France, right? At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. Study abroad is fucking... scary. I kinda regret it. It’s a good opportunity and for someone who doesn’t travel, it should be a fun experience. But I’m currently having an anxiety attack over taking out the garbage, so I’m not sure my positive self-talk is working.

I look out the window of my top floor apartment, wait until someone finally finishes walking down the stairs, and run out my door - I nearly trip about five times going down the spiral of death, my arms feel like jelly thanks to perpetually pushing my garbage deeper in to avoid this trip, and I swing with all my might to hurl my garbage bag into the trash compacting dumpster - only it hits the bottom lip and falls to the ground, splitting open.

“Great!” I say, sarcastically, “First they send my luggage to the wrong location, then they try to say my passport isn’t valid because my apartment was a temporary address, then I’m greeted with a fridge full of rotting food and no power, then I’m bitten up by fleas and now - I just- fuck. Why can’t I just- do anything- right-“ I cut myself off when I hear a screen door slide and blink a couple times to erase the threat of tears that had been creeping up on me while I ranted.

When I look up, I see a tall, dark-skinned guy about my age - handsome. He’s wearing a suit, and expensive jewelry. Combine that with the fact he’s living in the apartment building next to me, which is worth more than my life just for one month of rent, and I put together that he’s probably rich beyond belief. I quickly look away, not wanting to stare. I silently pick up my garbage, piece by piece. As I work, I feel eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. I ignore it. It continues, and I still ignore it as I finally shove my ripped garbage bag in the compactor and slam the door shut. I hear a slight jump up above, and chuckle to myself.

I zoom back up the stairs and almost make it to the top, but I trip 5 stairs away from my door - and fall, hard. Body laid out flat hard. Cheek scraped and stinging from the metal grating on the stairs, hard. Lost the goddamned slide that caught on the stair, and can see it gradually falling, bouncing and rolling down the stairs, hard. I lift my head and see blood on the stair. I feel it running down my face. All I can think is that this really fucking hurts. The tears come, a combination of pain and frustration, and I pick myself up and stumble my way into my apartment, completely forgetting about the attractive rich boy who just watched me be a danger and inconvenience to myself.

I rush to the kitchen and grab a roll of paper towels, and run to the bathroom, I see the markings in the mirror and can tell it will leave a sizeable scar. Do I need stitches? I don’t know. Anyway, I start dabbing at everything and blood is still oozing out of every nook and cranny, to my displeasure. I’m about to start bandaging my face when I hear a knock on my door. “Fucking Christ!” I mutter to myself as I slap a wad of paper towels on my face and sulkily go to fling open my door.

I’m not sure who I’m expecting, but to see the same rich guy on my doorstep, slide in hand, probably wasn’t it. “Hey, um, I saw what happened, and I thought you might want your shoe back.” His accent sounds very British - I was expecting it to sound more like a snooty Frenchman’s.

“Oh. Um. Thanks.” I say flatly.

As my muscles twitch to begin closing the door, he says, “Would you like some help cleaning that up? I have certifications to give medical aid... and stitches. My name’s Blaise, by the way.”

Doctor, maybe? Probably. “Sure,” I say, opening the door wider and standing back so the blood doesn’t drip on his suit. “I’m y/n.”

A few minutes later we’re in my bathroom, me sitting on the toilet, him sitting on the bathtub as he helps me fix my face. “So, Mademoiselle y/n,” He asks, “Do you find yourself in these predicaments very often?”

“Which one? Poverty, flea bitten, or bloody?” I say.

“I suppose whichever you’d like to think I was referring to.”

“Well, in *that* case - I’m usually caught unawares in all kinds of predicaments - though I’d say self-injury due to clumsiness is an uncommon one. And do you usually find yourself in predicaments requiring you to treat someone’s wounds?”

“I used to, though now it’s only on the occasion.”

“Sounds like an improvement,” I note. “I won’t guarantee it, but I think I’ll get the hang of walking up the stairs soon enough, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily mind it if I did worry about you once or twice more. Why were you running? It seemed like you wanted to get away from something. Does your garbage compactor smell that disturbing?”

“It doesn’t smell great,” I admit, “But truth be told, I’m not a fan of human interaction. It’s scary. Especially when everything is new to me.”

“How long have you been In France?”

“A few days, just enough to get myself physically settled.”

“I see. And you are from America?”

“Mhm. Let me guess, my accent gave it away.”

“And the slang, I’ve yet to hear someone from France use certain terms that you seem to favor.”

“Oh, most of my slang is specific to my city, not just my country.”

“Your city?”

“Yea, Tacoma. It’s near Seattle, if you know where that is. Tacoma’s better, though.”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there. My mother is a fashion designer, but she only travels where there’s inspiration or a business deal.” So that’s how he gets the expensive clothes. The rest of the money too, probably.

“Must be nice, having a handmade closet.” I muse. “Not that I care for having any more clothes than I brought. They’re pretty reliable, if I do say so myself.”

He laughs. “Yes, well, if the blood stains don’t come out of your jumpsuit you might need a new one. They shouldn’t be too difficult to remove, though.”

“Yea, I’ll just dump a bucket of Oxi-Clean on it and call it a day. That is, if any stores nearby have it.” I frown, realizing I have no clue if France carries any of the products I usually get. This is gonna suck. Hopefully the internet has some answers so I don’t have to ask anyone for help.

“Why don’t I take your jumpsuit back with me? Save you the trip. Believe it or not, I used to have chronic nosebleeds, so I know a thing or two about stain removal.” Blaise offers.

I smile, only just. “Well, if you insist. But I love this jumpsuit practically more than myself, so I expect it back right away!”

He returns the smile. “A fan of fashion? You ought to meet my mother.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure your mom would despise me - I only own seven jumpsuits and some athleisure for going on runs.” I pause, then tack on: “Oh, and some fuzzy pajamas for when I’m sick.”

Blaise cocks a brow at me. “And when you’re not sick?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I grin mischievously.

A wave of recognition graces his eyes, and he very quickly looks away, I assume for being flustered.

“You Americans, always so scandalous.” He tsks in mock scorn.

“That’s what we’re known for, is it not?” I say cheekily, “Beer, boobs and gun barrels. And all the other problems that come with that, but that’s a can of worms I am not looking to open today.”

He ties off his handiwork, and says, “It looks like my job is finished, other than stealing your jumpsuit off your back to fix it. I can wait in the other room, if you’d like?”

“Um, yea, that works. Lemme just, grab my next jumpsuit. Gonna have to do laundry early, I suppose-“

“I can wash your jumpsuit for you. I’m pretty good at reading labels, if I do say so myself.” He jokes.

“Oh?” I say, “Then you must be a real genius! Who taught you, Einstein?”

“No, but it was another white-haired, eccentric man, so you’re not that far off.”

“When all teachers are like that it’s kind of impossible not to hit relatively close to the mark.” I remark, then change clothes as quickly as I can, tossing the dirty outfit into a trusty plastic bag and tying it shut.

When I walk out to the living room, Blaise is toying with one of my sculptures. He’s definitely been meandering and lurking around. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, at which he jumps. “You’re rather skittish, Blaise.”

“And you’re rather quiet on your feet, y/n.” He observes. “But yes, I quite like your eclectic style. If only you had an apartment that let your customization shine. Something more minimalist.”

“Yes, well, it’s something I’ll forever dream of and likely never accomplish. I don’t suspect I’m going to be someone leaving the income level I was born into.” I say, just a little bit cynical.

“And why is that?” He asks.

“Because most people don’t, and the ones who do are the ones who make money. My career isn’t going to make me money.” I reply.

“So why did you pick it?”

I sigh. “Because somebody has to care about the people like me. The politicians don’t, the middle class don’t, and the rich are hell bent on keeping us there so they can have factory workers and have people going straight to prison after they graduate because we’re all desperate and miserable.”

He frowns. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s reality. And I don’t want to be like the people who get rich and stop caring because all they see is the wage difference and pretend it’s justified so they don’t have to feel complicit in the system.” I look him in the eye, my face grim. “Not all luck is by chance. Most of it is by design.”

He nods. “I understand, in a way.”

“Everyone does.” I say. “But understanding in a way and caring enough to do something about it are two different things.” I look away from him when I see his posture change. “I’m not trying to be rude, but it’s impossible not to notice the wealth gap between us when you’re wearing designer clothes and living in what looks like a mansion and I’m living in a building made in like 1900 with no elevator. It’s just the way things are, though.”

“I know.” He says quietly, thoughtfully. “I’d better get going. Your clothes?” He reaches out tentatively for the bag I’m still holding.

“Oh. Right.” I say, handing it to him. Our fingers brush against each other slightly, and it sends chills down my spine. He heads to the door while I’m rooted to the spot, collecting myself.

“I look forward to seeing you again, y/n.” He nods, meeting my eyes with a rather changed expression.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” I ask, not quite sure which answer I’m expecting.

He smiles, only just. “As soon as I am able.” Seconds later, he’s out the door, and I’m alone in my dingy ass apartment. How in the fuck did any of that just happen?

[lelenoir]

pairings: childhood friend!dong sicheng x reader [ft. wong yukhei]

word count: 3.6k

synopsis: wherein sicheng always thought that he would spend the rest of his life with you. only to be smacked with the bitter truth.

dedicated to: engel @jenoir, the no to my noren.

inspired by: the song it's over, isn't it? from steven universe

note: hellooo finally got this out after rotting away for days hehe. anyways i hope you like it!! it'll probably be my last fic for a while since school and stuff and also my other blog. this was supposed to be a small drabble but i guess the universe had other plans KSKSK

DONG SICHENG ALWAYS LOVED YOU.

It was always written in his stars, always engraved in stone and he always believed that the moment he laid eyes on you he was struck by Cupid's bow and arrow. Of course, he never noticed this until later on.

It happened in your local playground. The tall---at least in his standard---five year old boy buzzing with joy as he rode his bike across the street. His hair flowed freely with the wind as he fought the urge to raise his hands up. Legs pedalling as if he was in a race against the fastest cyclists around the globe. The world blurred in his vision, pure bliss coursing through his veins. As a toddler, he didn't want that moment to end.

Unable to contain it any longer, the boy slowly let go of the handles, ghosting the rubber for a few more moments until he finally decided to let it go. For him, in his toddler state of mind, nothing could compare to the feeling he felt that moment. The street of his small childhood town zooming all around him as he let the world's breath engulf him. It looked like what Luke Skywalker saw whenever he drove a spaceship in that movie his brother always watched.

The moment only lasted for five seconds. It all happened so fast. One minute he was on top of the world, the next he was tumbling down fast. The ground hitting him hard. His hands were quick to hold on to his wounded knee as soon as he landed, eyes closed from the pain and a strong hiss leaving his lips. Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched the blood on his exposed flesh. He groaned when he tried to touch it.

"That was stupid." Three simple words. One simple statement. And you had his whole attention on you. Eyes wide from shock but you mistake it as confusion. "What you did. That was stupid." You repeated as if he was dumb. A dull look rested on your eyes as you looked down on him. It took him by surprise when he saw your extended arms in front of him. He couldn't help but gawk at the gesture. "What? Aren't you gonna take it?"

Slowly, he did. Gulping slightly as he stood up, wincing once he felt the sting of his wound. "It's just a graze. Nothing serious." You spoke up once again. His eyes looking towards your face, only to see you staring at his knee. "Do you need help walking?" You asked, finally meeting his gaze.

He was speechless. He'd never talked to anyone that wasn't his brother or his classmates. He rarely ever talked to the girls in his class, in fear of the disease his brother dubbed as cooties.

"You okay?" You quirk an eyebrow at him, making him flinch up in alertness. His hands felt slightly clammy as he clenched and unclenched them.

"Yeah…" he trailed off, voice barely a whisper. He saw you break into a smile. It shook him to the core. Especially with how intimidating you've presented yourself to be. He didn't know why but he wanted to see it again.

"So… walk?" You asked once more. It was like a switch had been turned on inside of you. Sicheng felt a bit confused on what to feel about the current change in aura as he slightly nodded his head in reply. You hummed, nodding your head once as you made your way to his fallen bike. You pulled it up with such ease. Even he had a difficult time carrying the heavy thing. You steadied the bike with your hands, walking to him as you let the bike trail next to you. "Where do you live?"

Sicheng should've felt embarrassed. After all, a girl, of all people, was walking him home. Him. It should've been the other way around. He felt like an utter loser having tears threatening to spill from his eyes while a girl carried his bike for him. He sighed, preparing himself for his brother's endless teasing.

"What's your name?" He spoke up, halfway through the walk. So far none of you thought of initiating into another conversation, basking in each other's company in the form of silence. "I'm Sicheng, Dong Sicheng."

You didn't even flinch at his question. "Y/n" you replied, eyes never leaving the path ahead until you turned your head to look at him for a second before turning back once again. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, y/n." Maybe it was his pea sized brain or just his lack of comprehension but you clearly didn't want to start a conversation. "What school do you go to? I don't think I've ever seen you around."

"I'm homeschooled." You answered. "My mom teaches me." Sicheng gaped at the revelation, never ever meeting someone like you.

"That's so cool!" He exclaimed. "I wish I was homeschooled. That way I won't have to wake up too early just to get to school."

You only hummed in reply, ready to fall back into your comfortable silence. Sicheng suddenly gasped. "That means you don't get to see other kids!" He says it like it was the biggest breakthrough of the century. "Doesn't it get very lonely?" He laid his head to the side in question.

"Not really," you shrugged, "I'm kind of used to it."

He gasped once again. "You shouldn't though."

"'Life isn't always what you expect it to be.' is what my mom told me a lot. I guess I just preferred to accept it rather than dwell on it too much." You explained, keeping your expression as undecipherable as possible. It drove five year old Sicheng's brain crazy.

"Then I'll be your friend." He declared, pointing his thumb on his chest. "Heck, I'll be your best friend!" He shouts joyfully.

Your eyes widened at his words, not really used to such enthusiasm. Still, a small smile cracked on your features once again. He didn't know if you saw it but Sicheng felt his eyes beam up at the sight of it. You nodded your head. "Okay."

A proud smile adorned the little boy's face, not minding his previous concerns as he walked alongside you. The wound still hurt from walking but his mind seemed to have flown elsewhere, its current occupation slightly numbing the pain of his nerves.

You were the coolest girl he's ever met.

DONG SICHENG LOVED YOU UNKNOWINGLY.

Barefaced and a little tired, you laid your body down on the grass next to him. You sighed, eyes up the stars as Sicheng took it all in. Not the night sky but you. A content smile on his features as he indulged himself with your presence.

"First day of school…" you breathed out. "I wonder how everything would turn out."

He noticed the way your fingers toyed amongst themselves, saw how your breathing slowly turned erratic. In all the years Sicheng has known you, this is the first time he's ever seen you this nervous. Tomorrow was the start of highschool for the both of you. For Sicheng, he wasn't nervous. Maybe a small bit but that was normal as first day jitters. You, on the other hand, were a different story. It was your very first time coming to school after being sheltered by your mom for so long. Sure she never intended it and it was mostly your refusal to go to school that made her teach you in the first place, but none of that helped calm your nerves.

A billion questions rang in your head. A billion possibilities playing along with it. You were in a whirlpool of your own thoughts and you were gasping for air.

Luckily, Sicheng was there to pull you out. His hand intertwining with yours as he drew circles to calm you down. He knew that always calmed you. He felt your body relax next to him. A good sign. He smiled at his small accomplishment.

"Don't worry," he tightened his hold on your palms but not to the point where it would hurt. Only to make you feel his presence more. "I'll be right here."

Highschool rolled in as normally as it could. You were nervous as you walked down the halls but you kept your face relaxed. Sicheng's presence next to you adds up to your ease as he tries to tell you as much as he can about school. Still, knowing Sicheng, he wasn't really as social and loud as he was with you. In these halls he tried to put up a mask for your sake. He smiled at unfamiliar people, nodded his head whenever they greeted him and even said a few 'hi's and 'hello's just to ease your doubt.

With that you smiled. And god he would never get tired of that sight. For a moment the two of you didn't move. For a moment it was just you and him. For a moment he let himself fall for you. He wished he could stay there with you, not a care in the world as he held on to your gaze. He thanked the stars for bringing you to him.

Sadly, even that moment had to end.

He was never one for crowds but seeing your guarded position and tense posture made him want to assure you that everything was going to be okay. He offered you an assuring smile which you returned gratefully.

The bell rang, snapping the both of you back to reality. He took your hand in his, drawing circles on it like he always did. "Your class is here. If you need me I'm right across your room." He said pointing towards the wooden door a few feet away. Just then, he enveloped both his hands around yours. "I'm always here, okay?"

You sighed in relief. A firm smile on your lips as you nodded. "Okay."

With that, he lets you go. He stepped back from you, waiting for you to walk in. You straightened up your posture before turning around. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever was on the other side of the door. Counting the seconds in your head before walking inside.

Sicheng smiled proudly at your back. He waited until you turned to your left towards the chairs before he too went on his way.

You've watched plenty of teen movies to know that you should never pick the seat in front. You looked around the unfamiliar faces of the people in the room. Some eyed you curiously while most had their head on their arms, presumably asleep. You couldn't blame them, it was the first period of the first day of school. All those times running around or sleeping in during the summer before suddenly getting thrusted into school was probably annoying.

You claimed your spot by the second to the last chair by the window. You rested your cheek on the palm of your hand as you looked out, admiring the sky and the gray roads.

"Hey there," a voice spoked up. You lifted your head to see a boy. He had a big beaming smile on his face as he settled his things on the chair next to you. "I'm Xiaojun."

You watched him curiously, pursing your lips for a second before turning your gaze back to the window. "Y/n."

DONG SICHENG REALISED HE LOVED YOU WAY TOO LATE.

He often wondered if he could change it. Always counted the different ways, the different scenarios and outcomes everything would've led to. He spent many nights figuring out how he got to this path. This path that he desperately wanted to stray from. Alas, he could never. Life was a road barricaded by formidable iron walls. Once you step on to one path, the other one closes, locking you in.

He waited for you in the halls, by the door of your Psych class. The both of you were in college now. He shifted his footing before turning to the small window on the door, peeking for just a glimpse of you.

It felt weird. He thought to himself, watching you smile from ear to ear at whatever your classmates were saying. It felt like only yesterday when he met you. Closed off and very reserved. It felt so surreal not being the only person to have broken down your walls. For Sicheng, he wasn't jealous. The opposite actually. He felt proud. He loved seeing you with the company of others and loved the way you managed to grow.

Just then, you met his eyes. He smiled, lifting his hand up in a small wave. And there it is. That smile. The one only he could cause. The smile that was reserved only for him. He felt his heart pound in his chest.

One of your classmates pulled your focus away from him. Your features reverted to that easy smile you gave everyone else.

Sicheng felt his cheeks warm at the thought, his feet turning to rest his back on the wall next to your classroom door. He sighed, closing his eyes. He could see your smile as he did so. Flashing before his eyes like a Polaroid trapped in time. Forever displaying your face with that smile he loved so much.

The bell rang loudly across the corridors, making him jump a bit before composing himself. He felt so nervous today for some reason. Something inside him was commanding every bit of his body to leap out. He shook the nerves of his fingertips, taking the time to compose himself.

He waited for you to come out, almost bouncing in joy when you did. "You seem happy…" you tell him, "what's up?"

"Well I just finished all my assignments, got a high grade in an essay I stayed up for, and managed to get the last cheese burger at lunch today. All in all it's not a bad day." He answered cheekily. You rolled your eyes at the response but maintained a lighthearted expression. You smiled softly, the both of you maintaining a slow pace as you walked away from the door.

"Y/n!" A voice called out. You were quick to turn to the voice, Sicheng mimicking the action subconsciously. What greeted you was the sight of a tall panting boy. Sweat on the sides of his head as he tried to catch his breath. "Thank heavens I caught up to you."

Lucas lifted his head up, a playful smile on his face as he looked up at you. Sicheng felt his breath get caught on his throat. A nervous and unsettling feeling resting on the pit of his stomach. He didn't like this. Not one bit.

"Lucas! What a surprise." Sicheng snapped his head towards you, a subtle look of disbelief as he noticed your smile. It wasn't like the others and it wasn't the one that was for him. This was different. Your cheeks were tucked to the highest point below your eyes, face beaming with delight. Happier. Lucas wasn't any different either. A small yet noticeable pink dust spread all across his face. His gaze focused solely on you as if in a trance.

Lucas breathed to his nose, bowing his head a bit before returning back to you. "Are we still going on Friday?" He asked, hopeful.

Sicheng could visibly see you elate with his words. His jaw clenched subconsciously as your whole face grew brighter. No. His palms grew hotter on his sides, his heart pounding nervously as he held on to your next words.

"Sure." And just like that, he felt his heart ache. His previous mood going down in the slumps in an instant. Still, he held his head up high. His face stoic and unwavering. From afar you wouldn't have noticed the storm in his eyes.

"That's great," He heard Lucas sigh in relief. They make eye contact for a brief moment, both of them narrowing at one another before breaking it abruptly. You fail to notice the quick exchange, wrapping your arms around Sicheng's and already pulling him away.

"See you on Friday!" You called out over your shoulder.

Right. Sicheng shouldn't fret. He is your best friend. He's known you ever since you caught him that fateful day with his bicycle. Lucas stood nothing against him when it came to you. He was confident. The air around him lightened as you rested your head on whatever part of his arm you could reach.

"I missed hanging out with you." You whispered. He knew you weren't looking at him. It was a habit of yours to avoid his gaze whenever you grow sentimental. "You're my best friend yet I feel like you're worlds away from me now." You continued. "We're okay, right?"

Sicheng turned to look at you, watching your face contort to a frown. He sighed. He shifted your bodies so the two of you faced each other. He took his arm out of yours before resting both of his palms on your cheeks. "We're okay. Okay?" You smiled sheepishly at his words, nodding your head. He pushed you to his chest, hugging you tightly. You could slightly hear his heartbeat relax, making you sigh. "You're my best friend. We've been through hell and back together. I don't think anything would change that."

He's fine. He assures himself. There had been plenty of guys before Lucas. Plenty that you have downright rejected: Xiaojun from highschool, Hendery during summer and many others after. He shouldn't be worried. In the many years he has known you, he was sure the two of you would end up together. He just needed the right moment.

Sicheng was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. In fact, you've never actually seen him romantically with a girl. But whenever you felt down in the dumps, he was sure to give his all to you. He'd wrap you up close, shower you with attention and do everything he can to make you feel better. At the same time, Sicheng was also a very emotional kid. Oftentimes it was he who cried on your shoulders and you'd be there to listen. You were each other's support system. The very rock that keeps you grounded. From childhood and now as you both walk wherever.

This was the first time it began to collapse.

He felt the air get knocked out of his lungs, watching as the scene unfolded right before his eyes; the gleeful smile on your face, the mirroring adoration in both your gazes, and finally a chaste but unconcealable kiss. The obvious buzz of love and its first stages oozing out of the two of you and Sicheng could do nothing but watch it all happen.

Friday. He never thought he would hate a day like it. The day before the relaxation of the weekends. The day you used to come to his house for a movie marathon. The day you went back to him with the happiest smile he's ever seen on you. The day he finally lost everything.

Wong Yukhei. He clicked his tongue at the name. Jealousy growing in the deepest depths of his gut, eyes green and angry. Seeing his stupid smile and the noticeable look of triumph on his features. The boy holding you close. Then he looked at you; hair a mess because of the wind with eyes as bright as the sun.

DONG SICHENG NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU.

It was impossible. A scientific improbability. Not when you still come over during the weekends. Not when you still give him that smile. Not when you hold him so close that for a moment he fools himself to thinking it was all real. Not even when he raised his glass.

He glared at the small box on his hands. Tears brimming his eyes. He felt like he just crashed his bike all over again. Only this time, you weren't there to walk him home.

"A toast," he started, the low baritone of his voice grabbing everyone's attention, "to the newly wed couple, Y/n & Lucas."

It felt painful. Perhaps, the strongest pain he's ever felt. Years ago, he never saw this coming. He was fine. He was fine with all the other men that came into your life. Mostly because he knew no one could've compared to him and the bond you shared. He knew all your favorite movies, all your pet peeves, and everything that made you scared. Yet, he wasn't the one standing by your side right now. He wasn't the groom, the man you were going to spend your life with. He wasn't that.

"It's a miracle how you've managed to put up with her." It was a joke. "Lord knows I barely could." And another one. "Still, she's a very great person." That was real. "And I'm glad she's found someone to spend the rest of her days with." He was not. "We've spent the majority of our lives together as best friends. The day you helped me with my bike was the best day of my life. Lucas, you better take care of her or else." He warned jokingly, glaring playfully at the boy as he chuckled in reply and nodded his head. Sicheng could barely hold it in. "To the Wongs!"

And that was the end. A series of cheers and holler followed right after. You smiled at him and he could do nothing but return it. He watched you turn to Lucas and beam brighter. He sighed.

He wandered out, past the crowd of overjoyed relatives and friends. He pushed the balcony doors open, letting it fall to a close. The first drops of his sorrows slipping down carelessly and he did nothing to wipe them off. The wine in his glass reflected his pitiful expression and all he could do was stare before putting it down hastily. He didn't like the sight. It was over. It was all over. Isn't it?

He felt a strong pang in his chest and he found it hard to breath. He looked over disdainfully at the floor, fist clenched to his sides.

Why can't I move on?

[amintyworld]

Doubts - Beginnings Part 4

WATERFALL (Part One), SUNSET (Part Two), SECRETS (Part Three)

A/N: Guess who back, back again-! Anyway, thanks to all the support in the last three parts, this series has been such a blast to write! I’ve finally decided on a name for it - Beginnings, so that’s what they’ll be titled with from now on to avoid any confusion. As always, links to the last three parts are above. I hope you enjoy! - Minty

TW: Surprise Pregnancy, anxiety/worry, blood/gore, alcohol/drinking, implied major character death, sickness, cursing. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

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

They started construction on a house around a 15-minute walk from Phil’s house, on a hill that overlooked the waterfall in the distance. They didn’t know what they were doing, but Phil did his best to help out when he could and give advice, having been in a similar situation not too long ago. Wilbur went out searching for jobs when he could and managed to get gigs every now and then as he saved up cash to get everything they needed. It was a new feeling for the couple - Wilbur’s constant worry over his girlfriend, and Sally’s determination to not let the pregnancy control her. All in all, it was a bit of a frazzle. Tommy and Tubbo were a bit off-put at the fact that they’d be uncles at such a young age - nonetheless, they tried to take it all in stride.

Phil answered a lot of questions in the following weeks from his two younger sons, who didn’t understand how it all worked. A good example could be just last week when Tubbo gave Sally ginger ale and straw, leaving Phil slightly confused until he figured out Tubbo was trying to help her out since ‘her stomach hurt’. Tommy’s confused ideas of helping were a bit more out there than his brother’s - the Carrot Incident was a pretty good example - but it was clear that their hearts were always in the right place. 

Technoblade was distanced and tried not to get too involved but helped out when he needed to - he told Phil that this was more Wilbur’s responsibility than his, which Phil couldn’t deny. The pig hybrid still hung around the couple and even eased their worries when he realized how absurd some of Wilbur’s concerns became - “You’re reading too much on those books, Wil. Just because it could happen doesn’t mean it will!” Technoblade was always available to talk and support his brother, who became a bit of a mess from it all. 

Still, they were a happy family who was nothing but excited for the baby’s arrival - they were going on five months, and things had been going smoothly… at least, mostly smoothly.

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

Wilbur pulled up the covers on the bed as he left a tender kiss on Sally’s forehead. She smiled, yawning. “Wake me up for dinner…?”

“Of course, my salmon. You rest, I’ll make sure Tubbo and Tommy are quiet.”

Another yawn escaped the shifter’s lips. “You tell them if they wake me up they’ll be dealing with a very pissed off pregnant lady who…*yawn* won’t hesitate to kick their asses.” Wilbur giggled softly, brushing the hair out of his girlfriend’s face in a simple loving gesture.

“Get some sleep, okay?” Wilbur said. “I won’t be far.”

“I love you, Wil.”

“I love you too, Sally,” Wilbur said, turning off the lights to darken the room as he gently and softly closed the door behind him. Over time, most of his worries had eased, thankfully - but a few lingered in his mind that fizzled around his brain. Wilbur tried to push them away as he moved downstairs, resting his head against the counter for a brief moment, sitting on one of the kitchen stools. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he ran his hands through his hair once again. He had a gig later that night, but his body craved rest. Wilbur chose to ignore it, there wasn’t much use anyway. If he napped at this point he’d miss the job altogether, and he needed the cash. Bored, trying to distract himself, he pulled out his notepad and flipped to a fresh page as he rhythmically tapped the pencil against the paper, willing himself to focus his thoughts.

It felt strange to Wilbur to stare down at a blank page and not have anything to write. It was hard to describe how he felt, much less think of rhymes. So much was overwhelming his emotions and feelings, still, he tried to focus and scribble words across the page. Maybe if he wrote it all down, he’d feel better somehow - it always worked for him before. His notepad held all the times he was happy, all the times he was sad, upset, angry, confused… all hidden in words like a code only he could understand. It was the closest thing to a journal or diary that he owned, one of his most prized possessions.

Maybe it’ll comfort him now.

I’m struggling to breathe

Keep going

Protect her

Push forward

Wilbur looked down, his mouth turning down in distaste - this wasn’t exactly the lyrical poem that he usually formed. There was, as always, some truth in the words. It felt like he was ranting, almost. It didn’t make sense.

Everything will be okay

Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed in thought at what he wrote. He was trying to reassure himself, but… it felt wrong.

Will everything be okay?

“Uh-oh, the notepad’s out,” Phil said jokingly from the doorway as he carried in what looked to be a large basket filled with the garden’s harvest - wheat, carrots, and potatoes. He quickly noticed Wilbur’s distress, his smirk quickly disappearing. “Wil? Wil what’s wrong?”

Wilbur sighed as he read the words staring up at him over and over. “Nothing really. Just a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“I see,” Phil said, not believing that for a second as he set the large basket down on the counter, methodically moving to store up the food. “You look tired.”

“I feel tired,” Wilbur said, finally closing the notepad as he let out a soft chuckle in the suffocatingly silent house. “Got a gig in an hour, though.”

“You need to sleep, Wil.” Phil scolded, his gaze stern.

Wilbur waved him off. “I’ve got a lot I need to do. It’s no problem, anyway - the club’s gonna close up in a few days, and then Jay said I might not get another job in at least a month while they restock for summer.” Phil gave him a look, hand on his hip as Wilbur held up both his hands in surrender. “I’ll get some better sleep then, I swear.”

“Good,” Phil said, his gaze softening as he turned back to the basket. “Are you heading to Melrose’s place tonight, or TBO?”

“Melrose. She needed me last minute to fill a half-hour slot, promised to pay double.” Wilbur said as he got up from the stool and stretched, heading over to grab a cup of lukewarm coffee that was left in the pot from the morning. Hey, coffee was coffee, and he needed to keep the sandman at bay - double pay was no joke, and with his earnings tonight he’d finally be able to get everything they needed for the new house and for the baby. He needed to go, and he had to do well.

“I hope she doesn’t expect to keep dragging you out last minute.”

“Hey, as long as it pays well-” Wilbur shot thoughtfully as he sipped his coffee. The two turned their attention as Technoblade entered the house, his weapons, and clothes covered in blood, a few of his kills on his shoulder. Phil grimaced. 

“Techno, I told you not to track blood in the house, go around to the back-!” The smell of rotting and decay, potent, filled the boy’s noses as they pinched them, trying to get rid of the scent. Technoblade silently turned around, going out the front door again. “You better shower and change before dinner, don’t forget!” Phil called as Techno simply waved his hand.

“Yeah, yeah…”

Wilbur quickly chugged the last of his coffee as he put the mug in the sink and quickly followed his older sibling. The night was cold as he pulled his jacket closer around him, walking around toward the back of the house. The sky was quickly turning dark as the day began to end, stars not quite appearing just yet. Techno sat over the two dead sheep he’d brought into the house earlier, the nasty musk somewhat masked by the cold wind. The pig hybrid was focused as he ran his blade along the belly of the kill, carving and cutting out sizable chunks of meat which he began to wrap in some jungle leaves for storage. Technoblade liked hunting, and no one could deny his skill, knowledge, and precision of it. He was patient and always waited for the right moment to strike, always hunted smaller game because he knew others were too big to carry back home. The prey always usually went down in one hit, and if that didn’t do the job Techno would usually hold the creature down while he made a quick jab toward the skull. He pig prided himself on his hunts, which provided the majority of their meat for meals ever since the town decided to enforce a livestock tax on the people to raise a little extra coin.

Setting the packages aside, Techno looked up to notice Wilbur staring at him silently. “Uh, hey Wil. Whaddya need?”

“Can’t I just check on my sweet older brother?” Wilbur smirked, and Techno huffed, amused.

“You can, but you and I both know you don’t.” Technoblade joked as he walked past him, heading toward the river with Wilbur close behind, grabbing a cloth and his bloodied weapons along the way. The pig hybrid took a breath as he turned to look at his brother. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing important, really,” Wilbur said. “I’ve just been worried, I guess.”

“About Sally?” Technoblade asked, kneeling down beside the river beginning to scrub his weapons clean. “Don’t tell me you’ve been reading those parenting books again, I’m telling you they’re shit-”

“I’m worried about myself.” Technoblade’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at his brother, slightly shocked at the intensity in his voice as he sat next to him by the riverbank. Wilbur took a deep breath as he tried to release the stress from his mind, looking into the clear running waters. “What if I mess up, or… or I can’t be a good father? What if I’m the one who’s not ready, you know?”

“This has all been your decision, Wilbur. Your life. I can’t tell you that everything will be sunshine and rainbows because to be completely honest Wil, I don’t know.” Technoblade said honestly, moving to place his clean sword on the grass and moving to grab his axe. “But I don’t think you should be worrying so much about the future. Live in the moment, in the now. If things go bad, you’ll know what to do Wilbur. Trust yourself.”

“But what if I-?”

“Nope. No more worrying.” Technoblade said, cutting off his brother. “Just focus on right now, and as cheesy as it is, have a bit of hope.”

“When did you get so philosophical?”

“I’m wise beyond my minutes, young one,” Technoblade smirked as Wilbur laughed. Techno began to wipe off his face and neck of blood, rinsing the cloth in the river as he went. 

“Do you have any parenting wisdom to place upon me?” Wilbur asked, half-joking.

“I mean, It’s not really my department. Kids aren’t really… they’re not my thing.” Technoblade said with a little shrug of his shoulders. “But if I had any advice to give you, it would be that if you have the same patience and love Phil had for us, I think you’ll do just fine.”

Patience and Love. Live in the moment. Trust yourself. His worries seemed to melt and dull in his mind, and he felt a lot better than he did earlier. “Thanks, Technoblade.”

Technoblade just saluted his two index fingers with a smile before moving to get up, ruffling Wilbur’s hair. “Be good to the little scamp, this family’s already crazy enough.”

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

Wilbur zipped up his guitar case as he grabbed his keys and the small bag of coins. Looking out the window, he could see the nightclubs and bars, restaurants and torched streetlamps slowly flicker to life, glowing against the dark sky. Like a whole new town lying just beneath the surface, revealed in the darkness. Sally walked over with his gloves and scarf, a gentle sad smile on her face as Wilbur took the wool gloves and pulled them on.

“Every time you leave, I miss you just a little more.” Sally said, wrapping the scarf around Wilbur’s neck and folding it neatly in front. “Do you have to go?” Wilbur warmly smiled as he gently cupped her cheek.

“You know I’ll never be far, my salmon.” He kissed her forehead tenderly as he brushed a bit of stray hair behind her ear. “You’ll close your eyes and when you wake up I’ll be right by your side, you’ll barely even notice I left.” Sally leaned in closer as Wilbur wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, his chin resting gently on her head. As they pulled away Sally’s eyes looked up to his, a worry and fear behind her gaze that seized Wilbur’s heart.

“Promise you’ll be safe?”

“When am I ever not safe?” Wilbur asked, leading Sally to cross her arms and look at him with a slight pout that made Wilbur laugh. “Okay, okay. I promise.”

With one final goodbye kiss, Wilbur shut the bedroom door behind him again, walking downstairs. He noticed Tommy sat on the couch, head in his hands and his blonde hair messed. He looked over to his younger brother, gently propping up his guitar against the stair railings. “It’s late, what are you doing up?”

“Nightmare.” Tommy mumbled, slightly sleepily.

“Do you... wanna talk about it-?”

“I’m not seven anymore, Wil. It was just a stupid nightmare, I can handle it on my own.”

Wilbur was quiet for a moment, processing what Tommy said, how he snapped at him. He sighed before looking over to meet the teen’s eyes. “If you’re sure you’re alright…?” Tommy nodded before Wilbur pulled him into a small hug, Tommy’s hand held onto his arms around him in comfort as he smiled slightly despite his current state.

“Heh. Thanks, Wil.”

“That’s what big brothers are for, right?” Wilbur smiled as he pulled away. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be off.” Wilbur said, getting up from the couch to grab his guitar once more, throwing the straps over his shoulders. “That gig won’t play itself.”

“Good luck, Wil.” Tommy called before Wilbur turned, his heart warm and happy, giving him a smile and thanking him before taking his leave into the cold night air.

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

“Thank you, you’ve been an amazing audience!” Wilbur said as cheers erupted from around the pub. Moving off the stool, he grabbed his guitar by the neck and sauntered offstage, feeling happy with his performance. Within 30 minutes he managed to squeeze in four songs, which to his delight the crowd seemed to enjoy - at Melrose the tap was never empty, and as such the crowd was easily angered by the slightest things, or even nothing at all. The only somewhat mishap during his slot was when a bit of beer had splashed against his clothes thanks to a patron who had a little too much. They were quickly shown the door and the night resumed its somewhat peaceful pleasure.

He walked up to the bar and sat in the corner with his guitar, watching the next musician take the stage - it looked like a band from the amount of people. Wilbur knew he wouldn’t get paid in full until the end of the night after each performance was done, Melrose wanted to make sure they held up their end of the bargain instead of running off what the money. He had at least another hour in here before closing.

“Are you drinking or not?” Wilbur looked up to the bartender as he stared down at him, expecting some kind of response. He wasn’t exactly a big drinker, quite the opposite - the only times he’s ever drank were with Phil and Sally. Sally, once when they were both eighteen just to try it out - he winced remembering the monster hangover the morning after. Phil around a year ago when he turned twenty-one and they both shared a few beers together in celebration. Both times he’d gotten tipsy pretty easily, either because he wasn’t exactly used to drinking yet or because he was a natural lightweight, who knows. Either way, he wasn’t exactly going to risk getting drunk right now.

“Uhm, I’ll have a club soda, thanks.”

The bartender gave him a once-over, put off by his request before slightly shrugging his shoulders. “Suit yourself, buddy.”

“Alright, we’re Black Rose and we hope you enjoy the set! This first song is called ‘Sleepless’.” A guy spoke into the microphone, turning to his friends with a smile before counting them in as the music began to blast through the pub. It was a nice tune, and Wilbur found his foot unconsciously tapping along with the music. He closed his eyes and let the sound fill his ears as they began to sing the chorus. It felt right. There was a kind of emotional distress behind the singer's voice, in the twinge of his tone or in a voice crack or two that almost felt like magic.

“And I’m not going blind, I just keep falling, falling behind; 

Time goes slow and fast, my heart’s pumping and my head has crashed; 

Sit in silence and pretend like your demons are your friends; 

Your thoughts are racing while you’re pacing, it’s all in your mind, sleepless~!”

“Hey Wil, you got a minute?” Wilbur jolted back at how close the voice was, as he looked over to see none other than Melrose - her blonde hair flowed down her back messily with a ruby red dress that complimented her blue eyes. She pursed her lips into a line, a signal she was thinking as her pen tapped against the clipboard in her hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s, uh, it’s fine. What’s up, Mel? Hope my performance was up to par.”

Her lips formed back to a comfortable smirk. “Performance was great as always, Wilbur. You never cease to please.” Her eyes turned down toward her clipboard. “Though I’m afraid I can’t say the same for everybody. Tips came up a little short thanks to a few blanks, I’ve got to decrease your pay for tonight.”

Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed. “Mel, you promised.”

“Look, Wil I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do.” Melrose let out a sigh, rubbing her temple in frustration. “I’m barely making enough to pay as is.”

As she turned to leave, Wilbur quickly grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Mel, you don’t understand, I need the cash.”

Melrose sighed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t we all.” She snapped slightly, yanking back her arm. “I told you I can’t do anything-”

“Rosie, come quick!” One of the bodyguards interrupted as he approached with a sword slung over his back. “Charlie’s getting wasted in the back, someone gave him vodka…”

“Goddammit, not again. Can’t that bastard ever get sober?” She huffed, giving Wilbur one last look before slipping back into the crowd. Fuck. Well, there goes a whole extra gig’s pay - with the pub’s restock he won’t be able to pay off everything now even if he had work twice each week...dammit. The due date was in April, he still had time. He could probably get another job while the pub’s down, he’ll have to check the town bulletin on his way home later. He turned back to his club soda, letting out a defeated sigh.

Guess I’ll be away from home more than I thought. 

A scream from outside quickly tore Wilbur from his thoughts as he turned toward the sound.

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

Philza was a light sleeper. Being on the road and sleeping the wilderness had always made him jump at the slightest hint of danger, a sort of survival instinct that developed. It only increased when Techno and Wilbur came around, for the first time in his life he had someone else to protect and look out for than just himself, more he could lose. He guessed that’s why he jumped the gun a bit at teaching them how to fight so early - If he couldn’t be there in time, he wanted for them to be able to protect themselves. Even so, his instincts from way back then never stopped, which was most likely why the head of the family was awake now.

Muffled sounds came from below him, shuffling. Something was here, and whatever it was it wasn’t good. His heart beat quicker as adrenaline rushed into his veins. He grabbed his sword, leaned against the wall, and crept down the hallway silently. It was dark in the house, he could barely see a few feet in front of him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He couldn’t hear the noise anymore, which only heightened his senses as his heart beat faster.

Then, a groan which sent him backing up - that was much, much closer than before. Suddenly, he bumped into something that grabbed his arm and without thinking he swept his feet under whatever it was, sending them to the floor. “Ugh… hey to you too, Phil.”

He looked down and noticed his oldest moving to stand back up from where he fell against the floorboards, rubbing the back of his head. “Techno…?” He asked before quickly helping him up. “What are you doing, you scared me!”

“I was checking out the noise, same as you.” Technoblade said before readjusting his grip on his own sword. “Remind me to never spar with you when you’re in attack mode.”

“Will do.” Phil smirked. Both quickly tensed as they heard shuffling and groaning from down below, clear enough for the two to recognize the noise instantly. They looked to each other, eyes wide. Zombies. Where there’s one there’s bound to be more around in minutes. “Get Tubbo and Tommy, I’ll get Sally.” Technoblade nodded before turning and rushing off behind Phil as he rushed toward the end of the hallway, toward Sally and Wilbur’s room. Phil didn’t know how they managed to have a breach in the walls, but however it occurred it meant one thing - the next ten minutes were the difference between life and death.

He entered the room to see one of the rotting creatures standing over the shifter, who decked it clean across the face, her ears scanning her surroundings, green goop covering her hand. She turned to face Phil, who rushed forward and pushed his blade through the zombies’ skull, killing it for good. Both panted heavily as Phil checked her over, worried. “Are you okay, did it bite you?”

“No, no. I’m good.” Sally reassured him as she looked around the room. “Where’s Wil?”

“I...I don’t know, but... I’m sure he’s safe, wherever he is.” Phil said, trying his best to push his own worries out of his mind.

“Wait, he’s not back yet?” Sally’s eyes grew wide at the realization as her body tensed in worry. “He’s out there, with… with…”

“Wilbur knows how to handle himself.” Phil reassured her, worry growing in the back of his head and forming an uncomfortable spot in his stsomach. “For now we need to be more worried about ourselves - If we’re going to survive until morning we need to barricade the house, and fast.” Phil said, grabbing her by the wrist as they rushed back out into the hallway, Phil chopping another zombie’s head clean off its skull as they rushed past it toward the stairs. He could see Tommy and Tubbo wielding their swords as they tore through zombie after zombie in the living room, somehow making it into a sort of game as they smiled and laughed. Technoblade, on the other hand, moved chairs and tables against the two doors to block them watching his back as a zombie stauntered toward him, and he swept his legs under the creature and quickly curb stomped its skull, slimy green goo flowing into the wooden floor. Phil tossed Sally an axe that she caught quickly, feeling the weight in her hands and happy to have a weapon. “Clear out the ones inside.”

“Got it.”

Tommy jumped from the couch onto a tall zombie, piercing it through the chest and pinning it with his sword to a nearby wall. “Ha! Top that, idiot!” He shouted trumphantly toward Tubbo, who’s eyes lit up competitively as he attempted to hack a nearby zombie in half and managed to get his sword stuck.

“Uhm…”

Sally rushed in, ignoring the tender soreness in her tired body as she hacked the zombie’s head clean off with her axe as its body slumped to the floor. Quickly and effortlessly, she pulled out the lodged weapon and handed it to Tubbo. “Be more careful, yeah?”

“Uh… yeah, yeah…” Tubbo said sheepishly as he took his weapon back and Sally rushed to finish off Tommy’s pinned zombie. With a few strikes, it was down. Tommy grabbed his sword to get it free, tugging harshly to no avail. He got more anxious with each tug as Sally faceplamed.

“You stupid-” She muttered, handing him her axe. “Finish off the last two with Tubbo, and try not to lose another weapon, okay?” Tommy huffed in slight protest before Sally gave him a look and he rolled his eyes, taking the weapon and running off.

“I don’t think it’s gonna hold!” Technoblade yelled as he threw his back against the door, pushing it closed against what must have been around twenty zombies pushing and trying to get in with any means necessary. Sally looked over to Phil, who looked around frantically, trying to think of a plan, any plan at all. “Phil?”

“Phil, what do we-?”

A loud crash erupted - a broken window. Danger. Phil’s grip tightened on his sword as he began to shout orders. “Tommy, Tubbo, hold the back door NOW! Sally, stay behind me.” Phil’s tone was tense and sharp, and the two teen boys rushed like mice to do as he asked. “We just need a little more time, it’s gotta hold a little longer…” At this point, he was hoping for some kind of miracle. This wasn’t just a regular breach - this was a massacre. Rushing forward, he pushed the shadow in the dim light down to the floor, and quickly raised his axe to bring it down when-

“Wait wait wait-! I’m not one of them!”

Phil’s eyes squinted in the light to find… Wilbur. He looked like a mess, his clothes torn and ripped with green slimy goo staining the fabric. Phil’s eyes watered in relief as he quickly pulled his son in for a tight embrace, helping him up off the floor. “Thank god, don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“Good to see you too, Dad.” Wilbur smiled before the two let go, his eyebrows furrowed and his tone more serious. “These aren’t regular zombies, they’re stronger and more resilient. Last I checked they were taking down the square one house at a time, and from the looks of it most of them were not prepared for a visit.”

“...Fuck.” Phil cursed under his breath, his mind beginning to race once again. Did they have a chance?

“I ran as fast as I could to get here, I was so worried…” Wilbur said as Sally rushed forward to embrace him with a smile, running her hands down his face and through his hair, afraid she’d lose it again. Wilbur, in turn ran his hands down her arms, his smile brightening that it was real and alive and here-

“Good to see you’re not dead, Wil.” Tommy huffed against the door as the monsters on the other side growled and moaned, pushing their weight and strength against it. “But we have a bit of a situation here!”

“We need to get out of here.” Wilbur looked over to Phil. “If we stay any longer, we’ll be trapped. Once we’re out of here we can run into the forest to hide and wait out the horde.”

“But both exits-”

The two elder brothers looked at their father and answered at the same time in surprise. “The second floor window.” They turned to each other, sharing a brief smile. Technoblade looked over to Phil once more, his mind and heart racing as the voices in his head boomed louder, and he tried his best to ignore their shouts. 

“Look, it’s risky, I know, but we’ve gotta try. We don’t have time.” He winced and grunted as the zombies on the other side of the wall grew more violent in their animalistic attempts to break in. Phil looked at his family’s faces, hints of fear and uncertainty in their expressions. Tommy’s arm went to stop Tubbo from falling over at a particularly forceful blow, and as Tommy’s nerves increased he could see Tubbo holding his hand and giving it a squeeze. Technoblade’s heels dug into the wooden floor as chairs, tables and wooden boards began to splitter under the force of the creatures outside. Wilbur pressed a soft kiss to Sally’s forehead as Sally’s hand drifted to her stomach instinctively at this point, her eyes filled with nothing but worry. He knew this was crazy, but if it meant that there was a chance they’d be safe, he’d risk it.

“Alright. Wilbur, make sure the window’s open and we have a clear way down. Everyone else, get ready to run.”

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

Wilbur’s heart stopped as he saw the creature’s teeth sink into Phil’s neck as he let out a scream in agony. Shit, shit, shit… he didn’t know where they came from, they blocked the stairs as they ran up, why didn’t he see it?! The zombie that bit Phil fell to the ground with a thud as Phil’s own blood seeped down his shoulder and stained his shirt. Techno stilled as he made eye contact with his father, who looked sad, knowing his fate. “Phil, I’m so sorry, I-” Wilbur trembled, his hand reaching out toward Phil, not knowing what to do, what to say. Phil’s head shook back and forth slightly before pushing his sword into Wilbur’s hands.

“You two need to go. Now. Before you lose the chance.”

Technoblade was stone faced. “Phil, we’re not leaving you-”

“There’s no time to discuss this, I said GO-!” Phil shouted sternly before going into a coughing fit, holding himself steady against the wall. Wilbur stepped forward, wanting to grab his hand, help him before Phil recoiled. “Wil… Techno… you need to go, that’s an order.” Silence fell over the two brothers, not wanting to leave their father. “Look, they’re not going to attack me now but they will attack you, now MOVE IT!”

Shuffling and groans grew behind them as Phil winced, feeling the infection flow through his body. They needed to get out before he turned, they needed to live, he wanted them to live-

“But what about you?”

Phil looked over to his sons with a sad smile. “I think I’ve taught you both enough to know what happens now.” Suddenly it felt like all the air in the room vanished. “Now do me proud and show me what we do if someone gets bit. Show me what I’ve taught you.” Phil could feel himself getting lightheaded, he was going to pass out, but he couldn’t… not until they both were safe.

Wilbur didn’t know what to do as he looked to Techno then to Phil, who slowly lowered himself to the floor, his back leaning against the walls of the home he built for them. Techno’s fists tightened as he turned to face his brother. “Techno…?”

“Get somewhere safe, okay?” His voice was heavy, serious. “Promise me you’ll get somewhere safe.”

“I… I will, I promise.” Wilbur said, trying to look at his brother to see if he had any plan. “But what are we going to-?” Before he knew what was happening, Techno shoved him through the window, closing and locking it firmly behind him. Wilbur began to panic, realizing what Technoblade was doing and trying to find some kind of grip before he slipped off the roof and landed in the bushes, pain and bruises blossoming on his body. Tubbo helped him up off the ground as Tommy’s eyes looked up to the window, confused. 

“Where’s Phil and Tech?”

Tears pricked at the edges of Wilbur’s eyes as he felt his heart begin to throb without them here. Why, why why… Why did he stay? Why didn’t he let him stay? Why wasn’t he careful enough? It’s all his fault-

“Wil…?” Tommy’s voice wavered. “Where’s Technoblade and Phil?”

At that moment, Wilbur knew things changed forever. Phil and Techno were gone, they were gone and they were never coming back. He told Technoblade, he promised him that he’d get all of them somewhere safe, and with a heavy heart Wilbur knew it wasn’t here, not anymore. He wasn’t going to lose anyone else, he was going to protect them. He was going to protect all of them, if it was the last thing he’d ever do. That very moment what Techno said to him finally made sense.

‘If things go bad, you’ll know what to do, Wilbur.’

Right now, he wanted, more than anything in the world, to get them out of here. Tubbo and Tommy shared awkward glances as Wilbur took a deep breath for a moment, sniffling and wiping the tears from his eyes. Sally looked towards him concerned as Wilbur slid his hand into hers, looking towards his brothers with the same look and tone Phil had. 

“We need to go. Now.”

[wreckofawriter]

The World Stilled

Pairing: Carl Grimes x reader

Word Count: 1.8k (sorry its so short)

Warnings: Zombies, panic attack

Request: @alex-sulli the carl grimes imagine, i was thinking like a fluffy imagine where the reader is worried about finding everyone/alexandria falling and he reassures her :,) you can choose either

A/n: I choose Alexandria, I tried writing on the road cuz season four and five are my favorite but it sucked so I deleted it. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

    It didn’t matter where in the walls you were. You could hear them. You could always hear them. The groans and growls of the monsters that had taken over your world were constant in your ears. You pretend it didn’t bother you because it shouldn’t have, you should have been able to walk around like you weren’t trapped inside of a metal coffin. You could live, you would live. That’s what you kept telling yourself. The words running over and over in your head until they lost their meaning and it was gibberish you continued to say. 

    You took as many gate watches as you could, it was better when you could see them, look them in their lifeless eyes, and know what you were up against. You hated hiding from them, it made you unsure, it made you feel like you were in the dark. 

    All-day you were running equations and scenarios through your head. If something were to happen how quickly could you get to Judith? Where was Carl if you needed to run? How much food was in your house? How many could you take out before you were cornered? Carl noticed how distant you got. He saw the way your eyes always darted towards the walls as if to check and see if they were still standing, the way you jumped when he walked up behind you or how your fingers were always dancing around your gun. You were paranoid, just as you had been when they found you, how you had been on the road, how you had been for weeks after first finding these walls. And now you were here again, alert and frightened. 

    Ron wasn’t helping, he had always made you uneasy. something about him made your mind scream. Now he was carrying around a gun, his eyes watching Carl a bit too carefully, you were just being paranoid, you knew that but something still screamed as you watched Rick teach him to shoot. But you were just paranoid. 

    You told Michonne about your fear and she had said it was what kept you alive. You supposed that was true. You couldn’t afford to relax, you knew if you did, you died and the people you loved died. But it was tiring to be paranoid. It was exhausting to jump at every shadow, never get a full night of rest, to run scenario after scenario until you went insane. Sometimes you wished you were as brain dead as some so you could finally take a break. 

    “Are you alright?” Carl’s voice broke you from your spiraling thoughts. He climbed the ladder to stand next to you as you scorned the walkers below you, eyebrows scrunched lip tucked between your teeth. 

    You nodded stiffly, “Fine.” What if you had people shoot from two different sections of the wall, would that clear a path? Or maybe you could use the Wolf’s bodies, if the walkers went to feed a few could escape. But the bodies were cold now, it was no use. 

    “You seem..” He paused looking for the right word, “Jumpy.” 

    You glanced to your side, your right hand ghosting your gun as it always did now. Carl was staring at you, his blue flannel open, a white t-shirt underneath surprisingly unstained. His hair blew away from his face in the slight breeze. “I wonder why.” you scoffed. 

    “These walls are going to hold.” he responded plainly, “I know they will.”

    “Then we’ll starve to death.” You were only half kidding. Your eyes moved back to the walkers. You had about three months worth of food, four if you rationed right, two if people stole. You needed to find a way out. Maybe tunnel under the wall? 

    “I know that look,” Carl spoke up again.

    Your eyes remained on a dead thing, its jaw was dangling from its face, you wondered if it happened before or after it died.

    “You’re thinking. Think about how to survive.” Carl continued, “You used to do it all the time, at Terminus it never left your face, on the road, it didn’t either.” 

    You refused to speak, focusing on the crowd in front of you.

    “I remember when my dad found you and brought you back to the prison you looked at me the same way, like you were guessing how much longer we would all last. Patrick was terrified of you.” He chuckled, “You looked the same way when we first got here, you placed a three-week life span on this place. I remember you telling me that.”

    “I guess I was wrong.” You shrugged, “It was four.”

    Carl sighed, licking his lips, “Look at me y/n.” 

    You snapped your eyes to his own, there were so blue it was almost startling. His soft smile was gone, replaced with a worried look that dislodged something in your chest. 

    “This place isn’t dead yet. I won’t let it die. I need it, you need it, Judith needs it. We can’t afford to let it die.” He took a step towards you, “So stop making escape plans, you can’t jump ship yet.” 

    You swallowed thickly “I can if it’s sinking.” 

    You hadn’t been this angry in a long time, you felt so pathetic, you were helpless, weak. Rick expected you to just wait for dead people to come save you. You were going to die here and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t stand it. Your heart raced as you picked up a dart, its board was a few meters in front of you but you turned your back to it to look at the photos on the walls. Stock photos of kids who were dead now laughing, a dad serving lemonade, picnics, and blue skies. The first dart bounced off the glass so you pulled your arm back more thrusting the second as hard as you could at the little girl in a french braid and a red dress. The glass cracked, You raised a third, tears clouding your vision as you blindly thrust it forwards hitting the wall where it stuck with a hollow thump. 

You were going to die here. 

    The nights were always the worst. It didn't matter how many doors and gates were between you and them, their constant murmur could always be heard. You tried to bury your head in pillows, you tried earplugs, headphones. It took you two days to realize it was all in your head. The one place no matter how far you ran, you could never escape from. You hadn’t had a panic attack in a long time. Since before, you used to get them over stupid things like science projects and presentations. Now as you chocked on your own breaths it was because you were going to die. Soft sobs echoed around your dark room as you tried to make up for the air you were losing with gasping breaths. Tears clouded your vision, your nose was clogged, you felt like you were slowly suffocating. Your head thumped behind your eyes and the sound of walkers continued. 

    You jumped at the sudden hand on your shoulder, you would have screamed if you had the breath. Your glassy eyes locked with Carl.

    “You’re okay y/n,” He spoke calmly kneeling in front of you. 

    You shook your head wildly, the thick sheen of tears finally falling from your eyes and sliding down your cheeks. “We’re going to die.” you cried, “We’re all going to die.” 

    “You’re not gonna die.” He said so firmly you almost believed it, “I’m not going to, Judith isn’t, my dad isn’t. No one is going to die.” 

    You hiccupped a whimper ripping from your throat, “You don’t know that.” 

    “Yes, I do.” He answered without hesitation, “Now I need you to take a deep breath okay? You’re gonna breathe with me.” 

    You nodded taking in a shaky breath and realizing it. Carl sat in front of you breathing in and out slowly until your hands no longer shook and your heartbeat had calmed. It was silent now, the dead’s noise was gone, replaced by crickets and frogs. 

    “I can’t watch you die, Carl.” You said, “I can’t watch anyone else die.” 

    “You won’t have to.” He spoke, a small smile on his lips, “We are going to make it. I swear.” 

    “How can you be so sure?” you wondered aloud, “How can you know that?” 

    “I just do.” He replied.

    You felt so tired, your eyelids heavy with the weight of shed tears, your head was still aching dully and your limbs felt numb. 

    Carl noticed as your body slumped in on itself. He stood, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet. You fell into your bed, Carl headed for the door. 

    “Good night y/n.” When he went to shut the door behind him panic set in. You could hear them again, the clash of their rotting teeth, their growls and sickening moans. 

    “Wait!”

    Carl stopped in his tracks, turning back to face you.

    “Please don’t leave.” You begged, “I can hear them when you leave, please don’t leave me.”

    He didn’t question your sanity. He didn’t ask who they were. He didn’t have to. Instead, he walked back inside your room closing the door. You moved over in your bed as he kicked off his shoes and lifted your blankets, lying beside you. It was quiet again.

    “Thank you.” You mumbled turning onto your side to face him. 

    Carl followed your actions, his face was illuminated by the soft moonlight drifting through the window over your shoulder, his eyes almost glowing in the silver light. “Anything for you y/n.” 

    You moved closer to him, burying your head into his chest and fisting his t-shirt. You felt him stiffen for a moment before his arms fell around you drawing you towards him. You could hear his heartbeat, its quickened pace drowning out the endless thoughts in your mind. He smelt of lavender, his warmth surrounding you. 

    “Y/n?” Carl whispered.

    You turned your head up to look at him, head tilted slightly in a silent question. 

    He paused for a moment too long, his eyes flirting across your face delicately. “I love you.”

    The world stilled, the dust in the moonlight air stopped moving, the dead outside the walls froze, the living inside halting their breaths.

“I love you too,” you mumbled. 

His hand found your cheek, his thumb tracing along your jawline before resting underneath your chin and lifting your face to his. Your lips met hesitantly, eyes fluttering shut. His lips were soft and light against your own. Your hands ran up his chest wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips and you tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. 

When you pulled apart you were both blushing, your breaths coming in short pants. 

“You are so beautiful.” Carl murmured and you buried your head into his neck to hide the roses blooming on your cheeks. 

Masterlist

[ellewritesathing]

Ten Things    V

Summary: If there’s one thing you have to know about Harvey Kinkle, it’s that he rarely thinks things through. So when he meets (and falls for) Sabrina Spellman on his first day of Baxter High and finds out that she can’t date anyone until her tempestuous sister does, it seems like the obvious solution is to get someone to date her so he can go out with Sabrina. A not so obvious choice for the challenge is Caliban, but, hey, it’s not like Harvey thought that far.

Masterlist  Prev. | Part 5

Word-count: 3.1k+

A/N: sorry for the delay girls and gays (and nonbinary pals) but i finally got accepted into uni so i left the house yesterday for the first time in three months lmao 💕

Harvey had been on cloud nine ever since he dropped Sabrina home after that party. Sure it had only been a few hours ago, but still. He was so incredibly, idiotically happy that nothing could ruin his mood. His dad being pissed at him for coming home late rolled right off his back. Tommy needing the truck and him having to walk to the diner just didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Sabrina kissed him. 

Even waiting for Caliban when he was fifteen minutes late didn’t matter. Harvey just replayed last night in his head and the time flew by. 

Caliban threw his stuff down in the booth before collapsing in. “Why are you doing that with your face?” The fact that he bumped the table and almost spilled Harvey’s drink didn’t bother him. Neither did the scowl on Caliban's face.

Harvey frowned slightly. “What am I doing with my face?”  

“Well, it’s a bit better now,” Caliban said, stealing one of Harvey’s fries and munching it with a fury. “You were smiling.” 

“Is smiling bad?” 

“When it makes you like an idiot, yes.” 

“Oh.” Caliban’s horrible mood didn’t matter. Harvey told himself that Caliban just wasn’t a morning person. Or an afternoon person. Or even really a night time person. But Harvey persisted. “It’s just ‘cause I had a really good night.” 

Caliban rolled his eyes ever so slightly as he reached over for Harvey’s milkshake. He took a slurp from the straw before saying, “You and Blondie made up, I take it?”

“She asked for a ride home,” Harvey said before Caliban had even finished his sentence. “And at first I didn’t want to help because I was so mad but you should have seen her, man. I couldn’t not help her. So, I drove her home and then we stopped and I just started telling her about how shitty it was to be used and all this other stuff and then she kissed me.” 

Caliban didn’t say anything as he stared at a baby a few tables over who was stuffing their face with mashed apples. When Harvey didn’t say anything for a while, Caliban eventually looked over at him. “Where'd she kiss you?” 

“In the car!” 

“No, I meant-” Caliban sighed and shook his head. He held up a hand and gave Harvey a tired smile. “Never mind. I’m happy for you Harvey, truly.” 

“Thanks, man!” Harvey said cheerily before ordering another milkshake from the waitress and Caliban asked her to make it two. He turned back to Caliban with his almost permanent smile and asked, “So how did your night go?” 

Caliban snorted and finished what was left of Harvey’s original milkshake. When Harvey didn’t respond again, he sighed and said, “She hates me because I didn’t want to make out with her in front of her house when she was a drunken mess.”

“What? You can’t know that she hates you,” Harvey said quickly. He scurried to sit up straighter and reached out to Caliban. 

Caliban dug his phone out of his pocket and slid it over to Harvey, open on the chat between the two of you, with your last text being sent at 2am and reading: YOU’RE A REPUGNANT ASS AND I DIDN’T WANT TO KISS YOU ANYWAY. 

“Oh,” Harvey said softly, locking the phone and sliding it back over to a very dejected-looking Caliban. “I mean, she didn’t say exactly that she hated you.” 

“Harvey, I’m pretty sure that her calling me a repugnant ass means that she hates me,” Caliban said, rolling his eyes and reaching for where his cigarettes used to live. He cursed when he realized they weren’t there.

“Well, she called me the dumbest boy scout in the troupe but she punched Billy in the mouth when he said I was stupid,” Harvey said with a shrug after he thanked the waitress for the new milkshakes. “So maybe calling you a repugnant ass means that she really cares about you but doesn’t want to admit it.” 

Caliban was quiet, seemingly mulling it over. Then, with no warning, he snatched up his new milkshake and angrily started drinking it. 

“But, uh-” Harvey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It felt the moment for asking had passed but he couldn't help himself. “You’re still gonna ask her to prom, right?” The glare Caliban shot at him blew Harvey straight off cloud nine. “It’s just that I really wanna take Brina to prom, you know, and she can’t go if her sister doesn’t and-” 

“If I say that I’ll try, will you stop talking?” Caliban asked. Harvey didn’t want to risk it, so he nodded quickly. “Fine then. I’ll ask.” 

“Seriously? Dude, you are the best friend I’ve ever-” Caliban threw a fry at him and Harvey stifled a laugh. “Okay, okay, no more talking. You got it.” 

Caliban seemed content and went back to glaring at the very messy baby across from him. 

“But, uh, one last thing?” Harvey asked quietly. He held up a napkin that he’d fastened to a straw to show surrender. “A wise man once told me ‘people eat that cute affectionate shit up.’ I think you should keep that in mind?” 

“Is that all, oh wise one?” Caliban asked. Harvey nodded and took a sip of his milkshake. “Fine. I’ll take it under consideration.” 

--- 

Caliban had already made up his mind about fixing things with you, but - now that Nicholas Scratch had found him in the street and started harassing him - he had second thoughts. Not about you (you were a perfect pain in the ass; nothing could change his mind about you) but about the whole situation. He didn’t want to ask you out if it meant Nicholas Scratch could benefit. 

“Come on, man, you’ve gotta do this,” Nicholas said for the millionth time. “You’re the only person that can stomach her.” 

Caliban wondered how many times he’d have to hit Nicholas’ head before it made a dent in his hair gel. His skull seemed more malleable.

“Better yet: You’re the only one that can make her act like a human being,” Nicholas said. He let out a long breath when Caliban’s only response was to glare at him. “Fine. How much is gonna take?” 

“Excuse me?”

“How much money is it gonna take for you to do this?” Nicholas dug his wallet out of his pockets. “You said three hundred a few weeks ago but that was before you knew she's literally Satan incarnate, so I’m guessing you want more?” 

“Listen here, I don’t-” 

“I’ll give you five hundred dollars right now if you agree to take her to prom.” 

Caliban’s resolve faltered. Five hundred dollars was a lot of money. It could really help out with his uncle’s medical bills. Caliban’s jaw tightened as he thought about it. If he was already planning on asking you out, was the added money really that bad? 

Nicholas patted Caliban’s arm as he handed him the money. “Don’t feel bad, man. Everybody’s got a price.” 

---

You spent most of the day after the party being in an even worse mood than you usually were, alternating between throwing up and eating anything and everything that Hilda baked, and Sabrina constantly bubbling over with stories about her and Harvey didn’t help your mood. Seeing as you’d thrown up more than you’d like, you locked yourself in your room until you had to leave for school on Monday. 

You left while Sabrina was still asleep so you didn’t have to listen to her perfect stories about her perfect life on the decidedly not perfect drive to school. With the music turned all the way up and empty streets keeping you company, it was easy to drown out most of your bitterness. Your more-or-less of a good mood soured when you saw Caliban in the parking lot.

He was just as annoyingly good looking as he was at the costume party, just not in the flowy white shirt anymore. Today he was dressed in a yellow ringer shirt with gray accents, his practically permanent leather jacket, beat-up converse, and a pair of irritating black jeans. To top it all off, he didn’t look like he’d spent the weekend throwing up or like he had a pounding headache. The bastard. 

Ordinarily, you would have tried to hit him with your car, but Caliban was already safely inside the school doors by the time your engine had switched back on. After some light profanities, you gathered your things and prepared yourself for yet another mundane day at Baxter High. 

Luckily, everyone must have sensed the thundercloud over your head because they stayed out of your way more than usual. Thanks to the added space, things were actually looking up by the time you got to the library for lunch. 

And then came the first flower. 

“Harvey-” 

He cut through your warning with his winning, boy-next-door smile and set a single red carnation on your table. “Chill. It’s not from me,” Harvey teased. He seemed caught off-guard by your silence. He drummed on the table. “See you around.” 

As if that wasn’t suspicious enough, Harvey disappeared just as quickly as he’d arrived, and you barely had time to pick at the carnation’s edges before the next one showed up. The guy bringing this one was smaller, more unsure, but just as cute as Harvey was. And he had better hair. 

“It’s Theo, right?” you asked, looking up from the red carnation in his hand. 

“You know my name?” Theo asked. Oh man, if messing with Harvey was fun then this adorable kid was going to be something else.

“Only if I’m right.” You reached out to take the carnation from him before he combusted. “Are you going to tell me what all this is about?” 

Theo tilted his head to the side as he took a few steps back. He had some nerve. “Are you gonna beat me up if I don’t?” 

And he was gone before you had a chance to come up with something witty. Clearly, all the alcohol from the party had rotted your brain cells and made you lose your touch, and it was pissing you off. Just like the string of nerds who kept coming up to your table and leaving you with more and more red carnations. 

You’d made up your mind to kick the teeth in of the next person who gave you a flower when a very familiar voice took over the PA system and tv screens. 

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Caliban and I really, really messed things up with a girl.” He was sitting on his usual bench near the soccer fields, squinting slightly in the sun. He scratched his forehead for a moment. How did he hijack the systems? “She won’t take my calls or answer any of my texts, so I had to get creative. Apologies for those of you who really buzz one off to lunch-time announcements but- oh shit.” Then, to the person behind the camera: “Can you follow me?” 

Whoever was behind the camera must have said yes because soon they were both running for the bleachers. Judging by shoes and laughter, the cameraman was Harvey, and - judging by the blurring shots behind them - they were being followed by Hawthorne and the basketball coach. Despite your best attempts not to, you felt yourself smile.

“I’m afraid I have to cut my monologue short and get straight to the embarrassing crap- No, that first bit wasn’t embarrassing, you piece of shit. At least I don’t kiss people on the top of their fucking-” 

The video cut off briefly and when it returned, Caliban and Harvey were running again. 

“We’re back? Great.” Caliban stopped for a moment and turned, grabbing onto the camera and steadying it for a moment. He had bits of gold in his eyes. Asshole. “I’m sorry. Here goes my attempt at making it up to you, princess.” 

Caliban paused briefly, taking a breath, and then launching into a rendition of Frank Sinatra’s I love you. You had to admit, it was pretty impressive how he kept singing despite simultaneously outrunning the authorities chasing him down. But still, you were pissed. A song didn’t change the fact that he- 

Oh, no. Harvey went down. Caliban helped him up but it slowed them down too much and now Hawthorne and the others right on top of them. The camera shut off right after Caliban told you to call him (with an annoying, butterfly inducing wink) and Hawthorne told him to shut up. 

You were laughing before you could stop yourself, and you were still smiling embarrassingly when Sabrina slid into the seat across from you and placed another red carnation on your table. She smiled sweetly and gave you a moment to settle into your familiar scowl. 

“So are you going to forgive him?” Sabrina asked. 

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair. “Because he gave me some flowers and sang me a song?” 

“Because he got you an entire flower shop and got detention for the rest of the semester,” Sabrina said in her ‘you know I’m right so just listen to me’ voice. If she wasn’t your sister, you might have punched her. 

Still, you considered it. The punching, not the forgiving.

“He didn’t actually say he was sorry,” you said lamely. 

“Sorry for not kissing you after you got drunk out of your mind and threw up on him?” 

No, for leading you on. For being there while you were sloppy and vulnerable and then rejecting you. If that wasn't enough, he rejected you after you spilled your guts to him in that god-awful car of his. 

“Caliban seems like a pretty good guy underneath that leather jacket,” Sabrina said in a more gentle voice as she reached out for your hand. When you didn’t meet her halfway, she settled for picking up one of the carnations and standing up. She walked around the table to stand in front of you. “And, believe it or not-” she tucked the carnation behind your ear and smiled “-I think you deserve a good guy.”

You tightened your jaw and looked at the table. “You just want to go to prom with Harvey.” 

“That too,” Sabrina said with a smaller smile. She patted your shoulder and disappeared into the depths of the library, leaving you alone with your two dozen red carnations and even more staring teens. 

---

After being berated for his lack of respect for authority and blatant abuse of school resources, Caliban was forced through the rest of the school day and locked in a classroom with about fifteen other ‘hoodlums’ and Wardwell. The hoodlums were told to keep to themselves, and Wardwell typed away at her computer. 

As boring as it was, the thought of you chewing out each and every kid he had deliver flowers to you was a comfort. He wondered how you took the broadcast, if you even saw the broadcast. You had to have seen it though, right? It was everywhere. And it was pretty hard to ignore. But if you were still mad at him, you definitely would have left after five seconds. 

Although Caliban still had an allotted hour and twenty-three minutes to wonder if you’d given his little stint the time of day, he was snapped out of his thoughts by the door creaking open behind him. He turned slightly to see you, very awkwardly, making your way up to Wardwell with a red carnation in your hair. 

Caliban smiled.

“Ms. Spellman,” Wardwell said with her usual empty smile. “You’re late.” 

“Oh, no. I don’t have detention,” you said. As Wardwell checked something on her computer, you turned to Caliban and nodded your head towards the window. 

Caliban frowned slightly, tilting his head. Were you organizing a jailbreak for him? Uncharacteristic but charming. 

“Then why are you here?” Wardwell asked, turning her attention back to you. 

“I, uh-” You scratched your head and nodded towards the window again. “I had some questions about the English assignment.” 

“Which are?” 

If it wasn’t so painful watching you blunder through this, Caliban might have actually enjoyed this. Nevertheless, he started sliding out of his seat and heading for the window. 

“Uh, I don’t get why everyone thinks Elizabeth is a jerk for rejecting Darcy the first time,” you said. “I mean, he was just a total ass- jerk. He was a jerk to her and then basically called her an idiot for rejecting him.” 

Wardwell started turning back to the computer - where she would clearly see that Caliban wasn’t where he was supposed to be when you slammed your hands on the desk. Wardwell looked like a deer caught in headlights and Caliban stifled a laugh. 

“But that’s not what I’m here to talk about!” You grabbed Wardwell’s arms and pulled her to her feet. “I’m here because of some really nasty graffiti in the girls’ bathroom. Like really, horrendous stuff. Like, okay, yeah, some of it is quotes about stuff I’ve said to Billy, and I’ll admit that they’re a bit graphic but I didn’t write them on the walls, you know? I just say them-” 

Caliban wasn’t sure how long you kept going on after he snuck out the window, but it certainly took you a long time to meet him in the parking lot. And thanks to him being new and reformed, he couldn’t even smoke to pass the time. 

When you eventually did meet him, you didn't look quite as pissed off as usual but you were definitely still annoyed. You poked Caliban in the chest as you stormed up to him, the flower wobbling slightly as you did. “You owe me,” you told him. “Wardwell made me show her the graffiti in the bathroom and asked which quotes were mine.” 

“It’s not my fault the people find your witticisms endearing,” Caliban said with a smile. You didn’t say anything as you huffed and leaned against the bike rack next to him with a huff. “But thank you for the prison break. It was appreciated.” 

“It better be goddamn appreciated,” you mumbled. 

Caliban laughed and turned to look at you. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t even sure if I could expect you to call me.” 

“I didn’t have a pen,” you said with a shrug, not looking at him. 

"You didn't have a pen?" Caliban asked. 

"I may have deleted your number after calling you a repugnant ass and you responded with 'so you're still thinking about my ass?'" You looked over at him with another shrug. "Not my fault."

Caliban smiled down at you. "No, definitely not."

You clenched your jaw slightly and pressed yourself off the bike rack. “You wanna get out of here before they figure out you’re gone, Sparky?”

Part 6

Tagged:  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​​  @foji2000​​  @hxlalokidottir​  @artaxerxesthegreat​​  @thxmagic​​  @strawberriesandknives​​  @xealia​​  @hotmessindisguise​  @acciomaximoff​  @reheated-coffee​​  @shelby-x​​  @perseny-blog​​  @millie-753​​  @luneerius​​  @shizzybarnaclee​​  @lettherebelovex​​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​  @caliban-is-my-girl  @shephard17895​  @music-movies  @andie-kathleen​  @clockworks-world-to-fandoms​  @luquincy  @marina468​  @olivia-west-allen  @drrramaaaqweeen​  @roxytheimmortal​

[victorsandvanquishers]

I love your fics! For prompts, maybe 'Bodyguard' with Yuno and Asta? Platonic or romantic, either is fine!!

Hello, Anon! Thank you for requesting this prompt with Yuno and Asta, as I’ve been itching to explore their emotions related to the current events in the manga. Their relationship is platonic in this fic, and there is some slight Asta/Liebe in the background because I enjoy spreading propaganda. It is canon-compliant until the end. Please enjoy this sadfic with gusto! (͡ ͡° ͜ つ ͡͡°)

~~

Asta seeks him out the night before they're due to leave for the invasion. It's a knee-jerk reaction. One minute he's writing a letter to Father Orsi and the family back home while Liebe naps on their bed, and the next moment, he's pulling a blanket over his demon companion before making haste to Yuno's room down the hall. He forgets to knock.

He finds Yuno reading.

There are dark circles underneath his eyes, but they're not from the remnants of late nights and too much stress. These are different. They remind him of Nero's eyes, a mixture of exhaustion and dread, coupled with the usual stress, a sprinkle of agony, and a whole lot of self-loathing.

It's not like he's forgotten about Yuno's pain. He knows it all too well, and yet, he can't help but frown at the the wall between them, the one that's erected itself over the past few days. One one side is Yuno's thirst for vengeance, while the other has Asta striving for vindication. They're only a few months from becoming adults under the eyes of the law, and when that happens, he knows the wall will only stretch taller and wider. Soon they'll be on opposite sides and walking away from each other, because that's what happens when you grow up. It's what happens you grow apart.

But Asta persists.

He doesn't bother asking, just walks over, pulls the sitting man into a hug, and holds on.

Asta will always admit that there isn't much going on in his brain. It's not a self-deprecating thought, merely an observation that also happens to be one of the key factors behind why he does what he does. In the hierarchy of talents, there's mana, then there's scholarly intellect, and finally brute strength. Asta knows that if you have all three, you're as good as king.

Captain Fuegoleon has all three. Yuno has two, and Asta doesn't doubt he'll get his biceps eventually, but Asta only has one.

In a way, there's only ever been three ways to go – to stay home and become a farmer, to leave and become a domestic worker, or the third option, to reject every social norm instilled into his community, and work towards a different, even better future.

Asta chose the third option, and that's why he's holding Yuno now. Because there isn't much in his head, and there's no mana in his core, so his brute strength will have to do. His strength will have to ground Yuno, will have to steady and hold him in place before something bad happens. His strength will have to persist, because this wall can't win. It can't tear them apart like it's torn apart Nacht and his family apart, like it's tore Mr. Finral and his younger brother apart.

Asta won't let it – and he won't let Yuno lose himself in the process.

“You're suffocating me,” Yuno says, voice muffled by Asta's well-built chest.

“Hmph!” He enunciates, and tightens his hold. Yuno gets the hint this time, maneuvers his head so his cheek is flat against Asta's chest, and broods silently as Asta grips him even tighter.

They stay that way for almost five minutes, Yuno brooding against Asta's chest, eyes watching nothing and everything at the same time, while Asta focuses on holding Yuno, focuses on the bright lamp on Yuno's table, the book on magic theory turned to a chapter on manifesting spirits. It's only after Yuno's shoulders slacken and his breathing becomes even that Asta finally starts to loosen his hold. They stay that way for another five minutes, both their breaths even and steady, their spines languid, and their voices silent.

“The Father won't like it if you go in angry,” Asta says after a long while. “You won't be able to think clearly. You'll make mistakes, then get angrier, and make even more mistakes.”

“And since when have you ever listened to the Father?” Yuno whispers, scathingly soft.

Asta doesn't flinch. There's a lot of steel where there should be mana. “Yeah, but you've never disobeyed him.”

“And this isn't just cause?” Yuno challenges.

“It's just for you to wanna rescue your captain... but it's not just for you to go in with hatred in your heart.”

The brute strength Asta knows Yuno has hidden beneath the folds of his uniform finally makes an appearance when Yuno shoves Asta away.

Asta only stumbles back a few steps, but those few steps may as well be a mile. He's in awe, of course, and hurt. He's seen Yuno this angry before, but anger had been mixed with anguish and helplessness that night Asta got the shit kicked out of him by the drunken thief. This time, Yuno's anger bubbles with shame and disgust.

It's written all over his face. The dark circles, the hollow look in his eyes, the disheveled hair and crumpled uniform – it's unlike the Yuno he's grown up with, and yet, it's still him

“Get out,” Yuno tells him, deadly soft.

It's not a request; it's a demand. There's a lot Asta doesn't understand, and he accepts that he'll never understand those things, but this isn't one of them. Asta understands rage. He understands helplessness. He understands what shame can do when unchecked. He's had over a decade to build a backbone and grow thick enough skin to take abuse of any kind with a smile. Because Asta knows – hatred doesn't answer a single question. It fuels nothing but itself. It doesn't resolve conflict, and it doesn't leave a good taste in anyone's mouth.

Asta knows, because he's spent his entire life reminding himself that being angry is the most useless thing this world has to offer.

“I can't send Father Orsi my letter until I know you're OK,” Asta tells him, his face stretching into a big smile. “So I'll send it after we're back – after we've rescued our captains.”

“How can you pretend like it's all gonna be OK when your life is on the line?” Yuno seethes, his voice rising with every word, incredulity etched on his face like a badly drawn picture. “This doesn't end with Spade, Asta. It doesn't end even when we get back! There's still that bloody messenger sitting at our church with our Father and our Sister, and then there's that demon who's sleeping in your bed, and your arm! Have you looked in the fucking mirror, Asta? Do you think this ends just because you say so?”

Yuno's burning with rage, alive with the kind of insidiousness Asta remembers seeing in Mars, in Patolli, in Liebe.

“Yeah,” he tells his friend, his family. “Because I say so.”

Yuno closes his mouth and clenches his teeth, and just then, Belle appears in front of Asta and looks him dead in the eye.

“Leave,” she tells him.

“Just a minute,” Asta says politely, because this is Belle, Yuno's elemental companion, and he'll treat her with the respect she deserves, even if she hates him.

He shifts his head so that he's looking at Yuno again, who's still burning bright with his hatred. His grimoire floats next to him, ready to use, as if Asta's the enemy.

Asta can't but keep smiling, eyes brimming with warmth and love and all the little things that still matter. “I'll be there by your side every step of the way. I won't let you do anything stupid, Yuno; I promise you. I'll bring you home so that I won't even have to send a letter. We can just go straight home after we rescue them. We ca-”

“What you can do is respect that I outrank you, and leave before I make you leave.”

And Yuno means it, because Belle has flown to his side and merged with his body, a sickly shade of green pulsating with raw, unfiltered mana.

“I'll be right beside you,” Asta promises again, before turning around, and exiting the room.

*

Liebe counts his heartbeats while Asta counts the ceiling beams. It's late, and they should be sleeping, but they're not. Liebe counts his heart beats, while Asta counts the beams, Liebe's head against Asta's chest, Asta's eyes on the dark wood up above, Liebe's arm draped over Asta's torso, while Asta has one hand underneath his head while the other holds Liebe close.

Liebe doesn't say anything, but he listens intently, taps one sharp claw against Asta's shirt with every beat of his heart, while Asta stares up, counts the beams, thinks about Yuno.

“You can't stop him,” Liebe says finally. “He's gonna do what he's gonna do.”

“He's my best friend, and I'll be by his side the entire way. I'm not gonna let him fall.”

Liebe sighs. “It's not about falling; it's about accepting. People change, and sometimes, not in the direction we hope for.”

“But it's not about change,” Asta argues. “It's about our values, what the Father taught us. It's not... worth it. To get caught up in negative feelings – I can't accept it.”

Liebe stiffens but doesn't stop tapping his claw, doesn't stop counting Asta's heartbeats. Instead, he just laughs, dry and hollow. “I'll be there when you do,” he hums, snuggling closer to Asta's chest.

“I won't,” Asta sniffs with a pout before kissing the top of Liebe's head and finally drifting off to sleep.

*

When they arrive at the Spade monarchs' castle the following morning, it's Asta who turns back on his word, it's Asta who turns the wall into a prison, a prison that cages him and separates him from everyone else, including Yuno. It's Asta who forgets his values, because it's Asta who charges for Dante with his sword brandished, his mouth in a snarl, his hatred pulsating throughout his core as Yami Sukehiro's head rots on a wooden pike at the entrance of the castle.

It's Asta who has to see it to believe it.

Yuno's right, it doesn't end.

And it never will.

*

[eddieeatsass]

I’ll Trade you a Myth for a Kiss

Summary: “Derry’s kissing bridge was a little slice of romance in an otherwise unromantic town. Derry Maine didn’t exactly inspire one’s heart to soar, but something about that bridge caused a fluttering in the hearts of every person that passed it. Richie didn’t believe the myth. He was well past the age where he listened to make believe stories about true love and the promise of forever. Real life didn’t hold such fates, if it did, Richie wouldn’t be a closeted gay kid painfully in love with his straight best friend.” Pairing: Reddie Rating: T

Read on AO3

Derry’s kissing bridge was a little slice of romance in an otherwise unromantic town. Derry Maine didn’t exactly inspire one’s heart to soar, but something about that bridge caused a fluttering in the hearts of every person that passed it.

It wasn’t that the bridge was particularly beautiful, in fact it was pretty ugly with its decaying wood frame, rickety beams that split and splintered any hand that touched them, and sun-faded paint job.

It was the lore attached to the bridge, passed down through the hushed whispers of Derry residents for decades, that lured people into its hold. It was said that if you kissed someone under the bridge, they would be solidified as your soulmate; a metaphorical binding of spirits between two lovers.

Richie didn’t believe the myth. He was well past the age where he listened to make believe stories about true love and the promise of forever. Real life didn’t hold such fates, if it did, Richie wouldn’t be a closeted gay kid painfully in love with his straight best friend.

So, be it the fact that there was no actual evidence to the validity of the tall tale, or the fact that that very bridge had been the location at which his dear friend Ben had almost been murdered by Henry Bowers and his goons, Richie just didn’t have that much faith in the bridge’s supposed positive energy.

Much to Richie’s dismay, however, his cynicism didn’t do much to deter the way his heart rate spiked when he found himself sitting under that very bridge in the company of said best friend.

 They hadn’t planned on ending up here. Their day had started out much like any other; they’d met their friends at the quarry, soaked themselves and their undergarments in the deep jade water before laying out in the sun to dry. Music rang from Beverly’s small portable radio as they shared jokes and stories until the sun began to set.

They’d all gone their separate ways when there’d been no more daylight to suck out of the sun, the presence of fireflies lighting their ways home. Eddie’s bike had been confiscated by Sonia for god knows what number of reasons, so he relied on Richie to be his chauffer for the day.

And chauffer he did. Richie relished in the tight grip of Eddie’s arms around his torso, the way he’d mutter a ‘slow down trashmouth’ against Richie’s neck when he went too fast, or the little yip that he’d let out when they went over a speed bump, soaring weightlessly through the air for one blissful moment before crashing back down to reality.

He’d enjoyed chauffeuring right up until the moment he rode over broken glass, popping his tire and sending him and Eddie tumbling to the ground.

They’d been lucky, veering into grass right before impact, so their injuries were minor. But Eddie still insisted to treat them before they continued home, blabbering on about infections and amputations and- Richie didn’t listen to the rest.

It hadn’t taken long for Richie to recognize exactly where they were. His bike had decided to commit suicide right next to the infamous kissing bridge, which he’d taken home a thousand times and kissed at exactly zero times.

 “Richie.” Eddie repeated, finally garnering the attention of Richie’s quickly waning mind. Eddie waved his small disinfectant pack in the air as if an obvious gesture of irritation.

“Right, sorry Eds!” Richie scurried over to where Eddie had sat himself down on a fallen tree trunk, a miniature pharmacy set out before them all thanks to his fanny pack.

“Let me see your legs.” Eddie instructed, already loaded with a disinfectant wipe and a look of determination on his small features. It was far too cute for Richie to handle, and it made his insides churn uncomfortably. As usual he defaulted to humor, hoping it would ease his nerves.

“That’s what your mom said last night.”

“Richie! Ugh, gross.” Eddie’s nose scrunched up in disgust and Richie’s plan backfired.

With a rosy tint to his cheeks that Richie prayed Eddie couldn’t see in the dark, he sat down beside Eddie and presented him with two freshly scraped kneecaps.

Richie let out a string of curses as Eddie began cleaning the wound, but once the sting of peroxide passed, he noticed how gentle Eddie was being.

“Batman or Mickey Mouse?”

Richie looked up from where Eddie’s hand laid gently upon his knee, meeting round chestnut eyes that reflected the moonlight. Richie’s mind went blank.

“What?” He asked dumbly.

“Bandaids, do you want Batman or Mickey Mouse?”

Richie’s heart did about three backflips before he was finally able to answer, stuttering out a weak response that was not up to par with his usual.

"You know I've always been a Mickey man, myself."

Eddie quirked his lips, not quite a smile but also not the annoyance Richie was usually met with. He watched as Eddie reached into his fanny pack and pulled out a bandaid, unwrapping it carefully before moving to apply it to Richie's left knee. It barely covered the scrape, but they both knew it was for show more than function. Eddie liked knowing he'd taken care of someone, the bandaid standing out like a gold star sticker on a quiz. He nodded to himself, satisfied, before moving to tend to Richie's other knee.

 The process was much the same. It stung when Eddie applied the alcohol, Richie's heart skipped a beat when Eddie got too close, and then there was a distorted Mickey Mouse stating up at the both of them from where it sat over bloodied skin.

Richie spoke before thinking, his mouth always faster than his brain.

"What, no kiss, Dr. K?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, but if Richie wasn't mistaken, he also noted a slight rosiness rising to Eddie's cheeks.

"We're not five, Richie. I'm not gonna kiss your knee better. Also, ew."

"Who said I was talking about my knee?"

They both froze; Richie, horrified by the deception of his own thoughts, and Eddie, shocked by Richie's boldness.

"I-I-I meant my dick." Richie tried to recover, his tone none too convincing. But bless Eddie, whether truly oblivious or just pretending to be, responded by smacking Richie's chest.

It caused Richie to tumble backwards off their makeshift bench, falling into foliage that almost entirely ate him up.

“Oh my god! Richie!” Eddie’s tone shifted into concern, his body moving faster than such a little frame should be able to as he leaned over to offer Richie a hand up. Richie, widely known for acting before he thinks, took the opportunity to pull Eddie down alongside him.

The sound of breaking tree branches, rustled leaves, and tiny shrieks alerted Richie to the fact that Eddie did not land beside him as planned. In fact, a quick glance around him confirmed that Eddie was nowhere near Richie any longer.

“EDS!?” Richie’s voice was high pitched and frantic.

“Down here, asshole.”

The response, though obviously irate, still brought comfort to his beating heart.

“One second- shit- I gotta- fuck-”

Richie was stumbling over himself, squinting his eyes as he tried to see any minute flash of brown hair peeking through the dark. Richie fumbled around in his pocket, grabbing on to the lanyard that held his keys and, thankfully, a small flashlight. It wasn’t much, but it helped illuminate that area where Eddie’s voice called from.

Richie felt horrible when he realized they’d been right next to a hill, and his action had flung Eddie right down it. He spotted a small moving figure right at the bottom, underneath the looming darkness of the bridge, and set off towards it.

Getting down the hill without falling was tricky, but Richie somehow managed it. When he came upon Eddie, the smaller boy was attempting to dust the dirt off from his body. Richie decided not to note how fruitless his effort was, instead allowing Eddie to believe he had some control over the germs he’d been unceremoniously thrown into.

“Sorry about that, Eddie. You’re just so tiny, you weigh next to nothing.” Richie tried to pass off his comment as a joke, hoping it would lead them back into their usual back-and-forth. He’d never actually admit that he loved how tiny Eddie was compared to him, because that would mean admitting a whole slew of other things that he wasn’t ready to face.

“Not everyone can be Andre the giant, you ever-growing fuck. It’s not my fault my body doesn’t want to become a skyscraper.” Eddie countered.

Richie straightened his back, beginning to feign confusion as he aimed the flashlight above Eddie’s head.

“Eddie? Eddie???” Richie pretended to search for him, looking left and right but always above the line of sight where Eddie sat.

“You’re obnoxious.” Eddie stated.

“Eddie? Is that you? Where are ya boy-” Richie’s joke was cut short when Eddie swatted the flashlight out of his hand. It hit the ground with a wet splat, landing in a pile of mud just on the edge of the water.

Richie laughed heartily. He leaned down to pick it up when his gaze followed the stream of light to where it pointed right at an etching in the wooden beam that held the bridge above their heads.

Richie walked closer to it, crouching next to the engraving and tracing it with his finger. In the middle of a heart were two initials: G + H.

“How much you wanna bet that one’s Greta and Henry?”

“A thousand bucks.” Richie huffed, rolling his eyes at the thought of them carving this into the bridge after sharing a cigarette musky lip-lock.

“Good, they deserve each other. They can rot together for eternity. Thank you, magic bridge.” Eddie tapped the pillar gently, as if patting someone’s shoulder.

“Come on, you believe in this crap?” Richie stretched back up to full height.

Eddie seemed to mull the question over in his head before answering.

“I mean… what’s the harm in entertaining the idea?” Eddie’s voice had a bashful tone to it that Richie had never heard before. It made his skin prickle with warmth.

“I just never took you for the romantic type, Eds.” Richie tried to soften his voice, encouraged it to come out a little less like a tease and a little more like a confession. It seemed to have the desired effect when Richie pointed the light at Eddie and noticed a blush on his cheeks.

“Have you kissed anyone down here?” Eddie asked suddenly, the boldness shocking Richie into silence (which was rare).

Richie instinctively puffed his chest out, a bravado thick on his lips and ready to be spoken, but it deflated as quickly as it was triggered. Eddie was being vulnerable with Richie in a way that he never was, and if Richie messed this up, he might as well be damning himself to a future where Eddie didn’t trust him with moments like this. There was no greater fear than that.

“No.” Richie answered honestly, kicking a nearby rock into the water.

“Have you kissed anyone?” Eddie’s voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible over the sound of the crickets and the trickle of the stream.

Richie’s heart lurched in his chest so strongly it almost made him lose his balance. His eyes bugged out behind his coke bottle frames, trying to make sense of why Eddie was asking these questions. With a thick swallow, he answered.

“Yeah, only twice.” He knew he’d boasted about much more, that if the losers had been keeping tally, Richie’s supposed trysts were up in the double digits by now. But he didn’t feel like lying or keeping up some kind of charade. Not here, not alone with Eddie. “Once in 7th grade with Trisha Saunders, and then at the beginning of 8th grade with Megan DeLaurence.”

Eddie nodded sagely, looking down at his feet.

“I haven’t kissed anyone yet. I think I might be the last of the Losers who hasn’t.”

The way Eddie’s shoulders slumped made Richie want to reach forward and hold him up. His fingers twitched at the effort it took to hold himself back.

“It’s not a competition, Eddie. No one’s judging you.” Richie said earnestly, taking a step towards Eddie’s frame. Was he shivering? It had gotten kind of cold in the time they’d been standing down here. Richie hadn’t even noticed the nip of September beginning to creep in, he’d been warmed from the flush of being so close to Eddie; something he realized he’d gotten accustom to any time Eddie was around.

“Eds.” Richie sighed, beginning to unbutton the long-sleeved printed shirt he wore over his t-shirt. Once he shrugged it off, he took another step towards Eddie and draped the garment across his shoulders, making sure not to focus on how it dwarfed Eddie’s already miniscule frame.

Richie had abandoned his tiny flashlight, allowing it to dangle from a droopy hand and angle light out into the water. The darkness sheathed them from reading one another’s expressions, giving Richie the false confidence, it took for him to lean in and press his lips against Eddie’s.

The kiss wasn’t long, nor was it filled with passion. It was probably closer to the type of kiss you give your aunt at Christmas, just a chaste peck on the lips. But despite the nature of the kiss, it still left Richie buzzing from head to toe in a way that no other kiss had done before.

Sure, kissing Trisha and Megan had been fine. Richie had chalked it up to experience, telling himself that the reason he hadn’t felt anything was because he wasn’t used to it yet. But with Eddie it was a whole different world. Such a small touch had made him lightheaded, left him itching to go in for more and not stop until his lungs gave out.

Richie realized then that the silence had stretched out between them, Eddie obviously confused and, Richie realized with a pang in his heart, probably horrified.

“T-there.” Richie tripped over his words, cursing his nerves for mistaking him for Bill. He cleared his throat and tried again. “There. Now you’ve kissed someone.”

Eddie still didn’t respond, and Richie’s heartrate began to tick up into something erratic.

After a pause that probably aged Richie ten years, Eddie finally let out a laugh. A small titter that dissolved all the anxiety Richie was harboring.

“You dumbass.” Eddie giggled. “Now we’re stuck together forever!”

Richie couldn’t hold back the grin that stretched his cheeks so wide they burned. If believing that him and Eddie were now solidified as soulmates meant also believing in some invisible universal force carried on for decades by a fucking bridge, then so be it. He’d believe in every fairytale ever told if it meant being with Eddie.

Richie scratched the back of his neck, a nervous twitch he’d had since childhood. He only hoped that Eddie couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, I guess I kinda screwed the pooch on that one huh.”

“I mean, there’s worse people to be stuck with for life.” Eddie countered.

“Well I am honored I’m not the worst.”

“That honor is gonna have to go to Henry.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about him because he’s already promised to Greta for eternity. We’re clear.”

“Good. He can have Greta as long as I can have you.”

Richie’s brain stopped functioning, all reasonable responses escaping his mind. ‘As long as I can have you’. Richie would be repeating that to himself as a lullaby from now until forever.

“You can have me.” Richie responded on a shaky exhale.

Eddie’s breathing sounded just as unsteady as it filled the space between them. With nervous hands, Richie brought the flashlight back up to illuminate Eddie’s face. He was quivering, although Richie wasn’t certain whether it was still from the cold, or from the same feeling that had caused Richie’s limbs to feel like rubber.

“We gotta get you home before you become an Edsicle.” Richie teased, breaking the tension between them and leading them back into safe territory. Eddie rolled his eyes, but traces of laughter were evident in his small smile. He shouldered Richie out of the way gently, passing him and making his way back over to the hill that he’d fallen down.

“Well, you better help me back up this hill then.” He demanded.

Richie bounded over to him with newfound glee in his heart, vowing to never take the prospect of magic bridges for granted ever again.

[darkestwolfx]

Home on the Range - Re-Review #47

Just a quick note to say, I know I am super behind on replying to everyone! I will aim to go and do that now! Thank you all so so much though, I really do appreciate it. Hopefully work will slow down in a bit and I can be a little more active here.

Anyhow, let’s move onto how awesome this little house is!

Of course International Rescue have a training zone. The Gecko Gloves sound pretty useful as well. Gordon could have done with them in ‘Weather or Not’.

“Maybe I should take the lead for a change?”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Hey- What are you doing? That’s not what I had in mind!”

“Me next!”

Of course they’re the sort of brother’s that work together to throw each other around. That little look between Scott and Virgil was priceless. They really are a dream team.

“MAX, go and shake things up a little bit.”

Key word there MAX being “little”, not deathly. Seriously, you nearly took out three brothers!

“I can’t! He’s out of control!”

And that is the harbinger of doom for this episode.

Virgil saving Scott like a good brother.

And I love how Gordon somehow managed to make it all the way to the top!

Also, maneuver 17? We haven’t heard of it before, but they know what it means, and good for it too or we might have been spending a full twenty-two minutes looking at this wall of death.

“What a lovely place! I can see why you come here every year.”

“Nice hof your Father, to build this little ‘ome haway from ‘ome.”

A perfect sentence to give to Parker.

“Actually the Ranch belonged to the boys Mother. It’s been in her family for generations.”

A hint of Lucille! How lovely.

You know when you turn the TV on and you’re sorely disappointed? Yeah, Gordon was the epitome of that!

“Uhh, it’s her again! How many times do they have to play this thing?”

Her being Kat Cavanough - reporter from ‘Falling Skies’.

And more hints of Lucille!

“Do you remember when Mom used to take us all horseback riding?”

“Especially when Gordon was facing the wrong way. I think there’s a picture here somewhere.”

“I don’t really have much to add to the conversation.”

This is such a sweet moment! Of course Alan is younger and doesn’t have the same memories. Must be hard though, to be surrounded by brother’s who can have a conversation you can’t join in with.

Alan going out to watch Shadows take off was adorable! I mean, this episode really felt like they were trying to push Kayo and Alan, but then... I don’t really know what happened with TAG love interest story lines, save Penelope and Gordon.

“Sherbet, wait here and... guard FAB One.”

I love how the guarding idea was an afterthought, but Bertie takes it seriously! Parker and Lady Penelope having hard hats as well was genius.

“Seems hare hintruder ‘as vanished hinto thin hair.”

And sit on a rock Parker... anyone else getting flashbacks to ‘Tunnels of Time’? Just don’t touch anything, Parker. Although he did help them to find Kat! Really, what was she trying to achieve, silly woman.

A full family team up! Here we go.

“Thunderbirds are- Oh come on!”

Best launch ever. Just putting it out there.

P.S. Don’t look so down Scott.

“So, if all our ships are grounded, how are we going to get to the rescue site?”

“Fortunately, we still have some vehicles that are completely self-contained.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! We’re actually taking Dad’s old hoverbikes?”

“They’re like the oldest things in here.”

“If these get us where we need to go then they’re gonna be our new favourite rides.”

They took a bit of ‘Jeff Tracy Fixing’ but they did actually work!

“Thunderbirds are go.”

Sort of.

It’s the old hoverbikes! The original get-around vehicles of TOS, seen in a great many episodes! They look a bit worse for wear here though, but hey.

“Since EOS isn’t affected by the malfunctions, I’ve downloaded her to a local memory bank.”

John’s coding is superior! That is what this episode teaches us! He really could take over the world...

“Hello John. You’ll be pleased to know all systems on Thunderbird Five are operating normally.”

“That’s a relief. Now, I need you to do a full system sweep. Look for anything unusual in the Z-Band Network.”

“One anomaly detected.”

“Looks like one of the transmitter nodes has been modified.”

Brains telling John to stay put was one of the best calls anyone could have made. They could have really ended up with everything stuck.

Their jet packs work on tech? I thought they were self-contained, but okay, Virgil is the expert and I bow to his superior knowledge.

“You know who I am, don’t you?”

“Yeah I do. And we know what you’ve been saying about us.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t just leave me here to rot.”

“Right now, you’re someone in a tough spot who needs help. Who you are and what you’ve done doesn’t matter.”

Brilliant attitude Scott! Many people struggle to do that.

“The Mechanic! Wait, it could be a holographic drone.”

No such luck.

Parker actually taking apart FAB One! I never thought I’d see the day.

“You’re risking your life to save mine. All of you.”

“You know that’s what we do, right? It’s the Rescue part in International Rescue.”

“Even when I was out to ruin you?”

“I’ll try not to take that personally.”

No one would blame you if you did, Scott. Gordon (and probably Alan) would have if he was down there. And that rockfall must have hurt! It was a really good improvised rescue though considering they couldn’t get their proper equipment there.

“See that wasn’t too bad.”

“Easy for you to say little brother.”

“It’s a glitch in the security log.”

“Someone was covering their tracks!”

“And that someone is still here in the compound. Grandma went looking for Brains. They could both be walking into a trap. I have to warn them!”

“John, wait! Then you might get caught in it as well. Let me try something. There. I now have a subroutine nested in the transmitter room server.”

“Is Brains in the room?”

“Yes, but so is The Mechanic.”

“The Mechanic?”

We really should be worried by how easy that was for EOS (and John) to do.

“You’re trying to build a laser.”

“Not trying. I already have.

EOS’ message was a classic! That little Scooby-Do moment was hilarious.

“Short version, The Mechanic is here.”

Those faces! Well, I suppose that’s equal to or worse in a way than The Hood breaking into Tracy Island. It also means that both of their homes have been broken into. I thought Kayo was meant to be doing all the security stuff.

“Your former employer tried a similar tactic once. It didn’t work out very well for him either.”

This confrontation was one of the best scenes I’ve ever seen.

“You need to work on your intimidation techniques, Grandma.”

“First of all, only family get to call her that. And second, EOS we need to separate the machine from the man.”

“With pleasure.”

John going in with a super back-up plan was completely awesome. EOS is super dangerous. In ‘Earthbreaker’, The Mechanic got the better of her, but she’s definitely evolved in order to be able to put a stop to him in this episode. So, that begs the question, is there anything she cannot overcome? I really loved this episodes use of John and EOS tech, as well as Brains and MAX’s relationship, and the ever continuing Brains and Mechanic battle. Even Grandma got her moments!

“You’re not welcome here.”

“Oh MAX, you’re a hero!”

Question: how did they not realise The Mechanic’s ship was in there?

Moving on.

“If there’s anything you want to know about us, all you’ve got to do is ask.”

“Really? Anything?”

“Well there are somethings we have to keep secret. Otherwise people like The Hood and The Mechanic will use them in bad ways. There may be a lot of mystery around International Rescue, but really we’re just a regular family.”

“Hey, that’s my chair!”

“No it’s not! I was here first.”

Yeah, definitely just a regular family.

“You want to hear a real story? Let me tell you some of the things Gordon says in his sleep.”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“Watch the hair.”

“Come here!”

“Oh, you’re a lot stronger than you look, Fish-boy!”

And you know what, I agree that that’s as good as place to leave it as anything.  This is an absolutely amazing episode, definitely the peak of Series 2.