#they made me wait a full hour before taking my blood pressure

[master-gatherer]

Just one of those days when you might as well go back to bed

[mandarinmoons]

okie doke! i was thinking of spencer x fem reader enemies to lovers, a classic scenario of “your enemy gets injured and it’s me you realize how much you actually care for them”. they’re sort of work rivals with him and are also very smart - not nearly as smart, but y’know - and so sometimes they tend to talk over each other or undermine one another. on a case reader doesn’t heed spencer’s warning and it ends up costing her. you can take it from there, im sure what you do will be grrrreat </33

So sorry it took so long x

The BAU were invited to help out on a case in a small town in Maryland. A town usually quiet with rarely any crime, was suddenly plagued by women missing every few weeks.

Everyone split into teams and investigated the areas victims were last seen. The place you and Spencer made your way to was an abandoned house on the north side of the town.

Spencer was someone you rarely got along with and when Hotch told the both of you to team up, it took everything in you to not roll your eyes at your boss or try and argue with him. But you bit your tongue and dragged your feet to the SUV as you and Spencer made the way to the location.

As you arrived at the building, you jumped out of the car and made your way to the back, but you stopped in your tracks when a familiar voice scratched your ears.

“Y/N, stop!”

Rolling your eyes, you looked over your shoulder and were met with Spencer’s stern gaze.

“What now?”

“We’re not supposed to break apart.”

“I’m just going behind the house!”

“We’re supposed to follow orders!”

“And you’re not supposed to be such a smartass all the time, but you still are.”

Clenching his jaw, Spencer watched you walk away before sighing and muttering to himself, “Don’t come crying to me when you get hurt.”

Making your way behind the house, you took in the scenery. A swingset that looked like it hadn’t been used in years, flowerbeds by the sides of the fence that were full of dead and dry plants. It looked as though no one had taken care of this place in years, such a poor condition where no sane person would come. And so it would be the perfect place for an unsub to hide out.

Hearing a rustling coming from behind the trees, you latched onto your gun and walked over to the source of the noise, slowly and carefully. Only a few steps away, you felt someone walk up behind you, but when turning around you were met with nothing. Turning your head back only a second later, you were met with the unsub and before you had time to react he shot you in your leg. The gunshot echoed and you fell to the ground in agony.

“Y/N!”

Spencer came running to you and crouched down to you, brushing the hair out of your face.

“What happened?”

“He shot me-,” a cry left your lips as Spencer applied pressure to your wound.

“I told you not to go alone.”

“Just shut up and help me!”

Grabbing his phone, Spencer called for an ambulance. He stuttered out the situation as his hand was still pressed against your wound, blood seeping from the sides and covering his hand.

After finally being admitted to the hospital, Spencer was sat, waiting to hear how you were doing and every second was hell. He knew he shouldn’t have let you go all alone and yet he still did because his stubborn self was mad at you from a previous argument. What was the argument about? The two of you argued over directions to the unsub’s hideout.

“You’re supposed to turn to the left, Reid!”

“Y/N, I know my way around this town. I memorized the map before we left, we’re supposed to go straight ahead.”

“That’s not what the locals said.”

“Oh so you don’t trust me?”

“I’m just saying it doesn’t hurt to trust the people who know how to get around this place.”

“It also doesn’t hurt for you to trust me.”

“I’d rather get shot than rely on you.”

And now here you were, in surgery after getting shot and Spencer replaying the scene of finding you all bloody, over and over again in his head. This was one of the times he wishes he didn’t have an eidetic memory.

A few hours later you were resting in your hospital bed. Spencer was hesitant about whether he should come check on you or not, he knew that he was the last person you’d want to see, but he was the one who found you and he needed to know how you were.

Bracing himself, he took a deep breath and walked into the room. His eyes scanned over you with his eyes stopping at your leg.

“It’s not polite to stare.”

Spencer locked eyes with you and saw your mouth curl up into a smirk; even in severe pain, you managed to sass him.

“Watch it now or else I won’t come to check on you anymore,” Spencer chuckled and made his way towards your bed and sat on the edge of it.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“Yes, I do. I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“Spencer, stop. It’s all on me. I was the one being stubborn and-”

“That doesn’t matter. I was annoyed too and yet I ignored everything we’ve been taught and let you go by yourself.”

Spencer’s voice grew shaky and you noticed his eyes glistening. Were those tears? It couldn’t be.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” Spencer sniffled and quickly dried off a few tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You had never seen him like this. You were used to cold stares and eyerolls from him sure, but seeing him be so upset over your wellbeing? It was a sight you thought you’d never witness.

“Spencer, don’t be so hard on yourself, please. It was my fault too.”

“It’s nice of you to admit that.”

“Hey!”

Lightly smacking Spencer’s shoulder caused a chuckle to fall from both of your mouths. You hadn’t been this comfortable with each other in a long while and neither of you ever thought that such a day would come again.

While you were recovering, Spencer came to see you in the hospital for the short while you still had to be monitored and when you finally were able to go home he’d stop by to see you even more. Spencer was adamant that he was making regular visits because he felt it was his responsibility after letting you walk off by yourself, but the rest of the team had other ideas as to why he was making so much time to come and see you, and little did they know that their suspicions would be proven true.

Penelope was making her way to your home with a basket of freshly baked muffins, a baked good of hers that you raved about every time she made them, and she thought that it was just the thing to lift your spirits. She reached your door and waited for an answer after she knocked. After a few minutes of complete silence, she took out the spare key to your apartment that you gave her for emergencies and made her way in, her mouth falling open at the sight.

There you were, perched on the lap of The BAU’s boy genius, who was also known as your sworn enemy, or at least was known to be.

“Oh, what do we have here?”

Penelope shut the door and made the way to you and Spencer, her smile beaming while your rosy cheeks hid in the crook of Spencer’s neck. Sitting on Spencer’s lap was the last place anyone thought they’d find you, especially yourself.

“Please don’t tell the team about this.”

“Oh sweetness, everybody already had their suspicions.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Penelope chuckled and left the basket of baked goods on the kitchen table and quickly walked off so you and Spencer could enjoy some “alone time,” clearly enjoying seeing her favorite coworkers finally getting along with each other.

As the door shut, a sigh escaped your lips and Spencer caressed your back in order to comfort you.

“How long do you think it’s going to be until everybody else knows?”

Before Spencer could answer, both of your phones went off notifying an incoming text message. Both of you took out your phones and unsurprisingly it was messages from Emily and Luke, congratulating you both on your new found love.

“I was going to say an hour, but yeah, fifty six seconds sounds like a better answer.”

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[graveyardlifeguard]

Survivors Part 1

Summary: Occurs during the events of Season 4x13 and Season 4x14.

*This is my first attempt at writing after many, many years so please go easy on me*

Warnings: Shooting, Injury, Blood

Strictly Angst with a teeny tiny bit of Fluff

Eddie Diaz x Paramedic! Reader

The shift started out as normal as it usually did. I mean, as normal as it could for the 118. I had picked up an extra night shift to try and help C Shift with a staffing issue they were currently having. Eddie, my fiancée, had already gone home for the night after our regular shift. As much as I would have loved to go home with him, I knew the extra money would be nice to have for the costs of planning a wedding.

I had only been at work for 3 hours, but I was already exhausted after having a cardiac arrest and a car flip over on the highway. Back-to-back. Shutting the back doors of the ambulance after restocking, I made my way upstairs to the kitchen area to grab a snack. It was currently 10pm and everyone else was in bed for the night. Right after grabbing a left-over slice of pizza out of the fridge, the bell and pager went off once again for a sick call at a nearby apartment complex.

My partner for the night, Alicia, quickly made her way out of the dorm rooms before shuffling towards the truck.

"Is there no such thing as a break?!" She yells from the passenger side of the truck.

I laugh as I move down the stairs towards the driver's side.

"What does the nice, bustiling city have for us this time?" I ask as Alicia looks over the computer, that is still updating with notes from the caller.

I start the truck up and we exit the station driving down the still busy city roads. Alicia lets me know that were going to The Regal Point Apartments for a 13-year-old male complaining of not feeling well. His mom called, concerned that her son's condition was deteriorating.

Pulling up to the apartment complex, Alicia grabs the medical bag while I grab the LifePak monitor. Luckily, this apartment complex has an elevator, so we don't have to trudge our way up four flights of stairs. Once at the correct apartment, the patient's mother, who introduces herself as Sheila. Alicia and I introduce ourselves with Sheila pointing us towards her son's bedroom. While walking towards his bedroom she begins to talk to us about his medical history.

"His name is Charlie, he's 13-years-old. He has an Auto-Immune disorder that forces him to stay inside all the time. The only times he gets to leave the house are to go to one of his many doctors' appointments."

Entering Charlie's room, Alicia once again introduces us and asks if she can check his vital signs. He agrees with Alicia beginning to check his blood pressure. Even in the small glow from his bedside lamp, I can see that Charlie looks sick. He appears pale with dark bags sitting underneath his eyes. Overall, he looks exhausted.

After checking all of his vital signs and talking to Sheila and Charlie more, I had a weird feeling start to form in my stomach. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something just did not feel right. The way that his mom seemed evasive with his full diagnosis and couldn't remember his medications, something just seemed...wrong. When Alicia asked the mom about us taking him to the hospital, she quickly stated that she does not believe that he needs to go to the hospital due to him having a weak immune system.

"Ma'am we understand your concerns, but we always recommend people go to the hospital to get checked out. Especially when they are as sick as Charlie is." I try once again.

Alicia was packing up the bag as Sheila repeats that she does not want Charlie to go. "I'll call his primary care doctor in the morning and see if they will see him." She states with a kind smile on her face.

The odd feeling again returns before we exit the house. Getting back in the truck, I keep the uneasy feeling to myself as Alicia writes the refusal report. I wait for her to finish typing before asking her.

"Did that seem odd to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, still looking over the report.

"Just the story of his diagnosis and things like that. She just seemed to have a lot of empty answers." I reply back.

"I didn't really get a weird feeling, but I also was talking more to Charlie than I was to the mom." She answers again.

"Something just seems off to me. Maybe I am just thinking too far into it." I state. I mean, it is late, the mom is probably tired after spending the day taking care of her son. That's what we will have to go with for now as Dispatch alerts us to another call we're needed on. 

————

"How come you don't make this kind of breakfast for me when we're at home?" Eddie states as he comes bouncing into the kitchen. He's in full uniform which makes it hard for me to not turn around and admire him. I had always loved a man in uniform but there was just something about him in one that made it twenty times better.

"I only cook when I am here because if I start cooking at home, that means you'll expect it, and we can't have that." I reply to him.

He laughs before sneaking a quick kiss on my lips before lifting up my left hand and kissing my ring finger. Even though my engagement ring wasn't there, the little rubber one that replaced it on shift was still just as meaningful. Butterflies erupt in my heart at the small interaction.

Eddie coming to the 118 was the absolute best thing to ever happen to me. Before he arrived, I was a shy little Paramedic who just came to work to run calls and go home. My best friend Buck had been whining forever that I never went out and never spent any time living my life. Whatever that meant. Eddie being here brought out a whole new side of me that Buck says he had always been waiting to see. It was not just Eddie though; Christopher had been another missing piece in my life that I never knew I needed. It had been so easy to turn into a motherly figure for him. When he proposed, Eddie had made sure to include Christopher in it. Mostly because Christopher wouldn't allow him to not include him.

The station bell went off sharply, alerting everyone to a call. "I guess breakfast will just have to wait until later." I yell out downstairs to the crew as I shut off the stove and run downstairs. Hen and Chimney jump into the ambulance while I make my way to the Critical Care SUV. Right after getting engaged to Eddie, I had been promoted to a Critical Care Responder, aka Lieutenant. Which was a fancy way of saying that I had more responsibilities while riding by myself. I hop into the truck and make my way to the call behind the Fire truck and the Ambulance.

Arriving at the call, I let Captain Nash and his crew manage the situation. The best part about my new role, I had Chim and Hen underneath me, which meant they were more than capable of handling anything. I was more along the lines of helping hands when needed with these two. After realizing that I was not needed for this call and hearing another more critical call come out, I let everyone know I was leaving before hurrying on to the next call.

————

"Where did you disappear off to earlier?" I hear Eddie say from behind me.

I had just returned to the station after being gone for most of the day. I turn in my seat so I can fully see him. He's leaning against the door frame of my office with a small smile sitting on his face. As nice as it was to work together, it seemed almost impossible most of the time to actually see him. I smile up at him as he walks over and sits on the corner of my desk.

"I couldn't seem to find my way back here today. Everyone needed something at some point." I state as I lean forward to make some sort of physical contact with him, granted it was just my elbow touching his knee, but hey, it was something.

"I'm tired of everyone needing my girl today. I know you're great and all but damn." I laugh and shake my head at his compliment. He knew that calling me "his girl" was a sure-fire way to my heart. 

"Listen, if you need me while you're out there, all you have to do is call me. That's what everyone else likes to do!" I remind him with a smile on my face.

He smiles back at me, and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. We're stuck like that for a moment, just smiling at each other alone in my office.

Eddie glances between me and the still open office door before pulling me to stand in front of him. Before I can ask him what he's doing, his lips are on mine like he hasn't kissed me in months. I quickly return the kiss and allow myself to enjoy the mental break. Before it can get too heavy, Eddie pulls away but just far enough away that our foreheads are still touching. We are both smiling like cheshire cats, and I don't think anything could be better than this. I pull back further and smile up at him.

"Not that I didn't enjoy that, what was that for?" I ask, still smiling. He just stares down at me before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I just missed my girl. That's all." Before I can respond to him, the station bell goes off once more alerting Eddie to another call. His head falls backwards with a groan escaping his mouth. I snort at his dramatics and place a kiss on his lips before pulling him out of the office. "Where are you going? You didn't get added to this." He asks as we walk towards the bay.

"I might as well grab a drink before I dive back into my paperwork." I tell him.

As we enter the bay and begin to separate, I feel a light smack on butt. The surprise of it caught me off guard causing me to lightly jump and yell out. I can hear Eddie laughing as he runs off towards the truck to leave. "I love you!" He yells out before hopping in the back. Eddie Diaz was going to be the death of me.

[actiniumwrites]

NOTHING LEFT TO SAY

synopsis: after an argument with albedo in his lab, you storm off while albedo is left with regret over the words he said to you. wanting nothing more than to take back what he said, albedo sets out to apologize to you. unfortunately, it seems as though everything is getting in the way of him doing so

or, in other words, the three times albedo tried to apologize to you, and the one time he actually did

based on this request!

characters: albedo x gn!reader

wc: 4.7k

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, arguments, a tiny bit of swearing, descriptions of injuries and blood (not caused during the argument), established relationships, albedo is probably a bit ooc at times

notes: to the anon that sent this request to me, i am so sorry it took me around 5 months to actually write this request! i never meant for it to take this long, but i swore i would write it and i made sure i did. honestly i just wanted to make sure it was out before the year was over because i really liked the idea and didn’t want you to have to wait any longer. i hope you enjoy this <3

“I need another beaker,” Albedo said in his ever so monotonous voice.

Your eyes glanced hurriedly around the lab, “Albedo? We’re out of beakers. You used all of them.”

An annoyed sigh left Albedo’s lips for what had felt like the millionth time that afternoon. Coincidentally, it was also the first time he had looked at you all afternoon. You weren’t sure what was bothering him, but it was clear it was not something he wanted to talk about. Unless, of course, it was just one of those days where everything seems to piss him off. It could’ve been either of the two, and it was impossible to know which.

Albedo’s eyes left yours as he turned to look through his cabinets. A slight slamming sounded out after he shut each one with a little more pressure than usual. Frustration was running through his veins. It was just as you said, there really were no beakers left.

“Albedo? Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, “You know if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

Albedo sighed again, “No, I’m fine. Let’s just continue working.”

“No, Albedo, I —” the crashing of glass rung out through the air, cutting you off from speaking. In your attempt at finding out what was wrong, your hands had begun moving with your words and soon enough they knocked a beaker full of chemicals onto the floor. Silence was what remained.

It had been nearly a full minute before either of you spoke again. You were too shocked and Albedo was far too calm looking for you to tell what he had been thinking. Soon enough, you realized that the chemicals that were now puddling on the floor were ones imported from Natlan. It had taken him an entire six months to obtain them.

“Get out.” Albedo said calmly.

“Wait, Albedo- I’m sorry! I know those took you forever to get, but I’ll fix it. I swear. Archons, I’m so sorry!”

Albedo’s icy blue eyes finally met yours for the second time that afternoon, “What don’t you understand? I said get out. I don’t need someone like you hanging around me if all you’re going to do is ruin my experiments.”

“Someone like…me? Albedo, I’m your lover. I’m not just— just some random person or your assistant or your intern or whatever! You don’t get to treat me like that,” you angrily spoke, “If you want me gone, then fine. I’m leaving. Don’t bother trying to find me — If you even care, that is.”

Those were the last words you had said to him before you stormed off. Albedo didn’t feel human emotions like every one else, but he was sure what he was feeling right about now was regret. He didn’t mean what he said to you. Dammit, he loved you — Albedo was sure of that. Now all he had done was ruin that too.

Apology Attempt #1: One Day After The Argument

Albedo sighed as he fiddled with the pen in his hand. Staring down at his papers for hours hadn’t been what he intended to do today, but he just couldn’t focus. It was cold in his lab, just as it always was. But today was different. The air felt different. Albedo was used to the cold, but not in the way it was when you were gone.

It was hard for him to admit it, but Albedo just isn’t the same when you’re not around. The way you encourage him makes him feel all warm inside — a feeling he doesn’t quite understand, but welcomes regardless. He feels more like himself, more at home.

So why did he have to go and ruin it?

Albedo’s eyes shut tightly and he let his head slump dramatically against his desk, disrupting the papers among the top of it. Normally, he’d get upset at such disorganized actions, but today he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was able to get any work done anyway.

“Albedo!” a high pitched voice run out in his lab following the sound of the door opening. Albedo begrudgingly spun his chair and opened his eyes, a fake smile on his face.

“Hi, Klee,” he spoke softly. Although he didn’t have the energy to deal with her today, the alchemist couldn’t possibly push her away.

“Oh…where’s Y/n?”

Albedo fought the urge to wince at your name, forgetting that Klee was unaware of his regrettable argument with you, “They aren’t here right now, Klee. Is there something you needed them for?”

“No, but you’re always with Y/n. It’s weird that they aren’t here.” Albedo’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the little elf’s words. Was he really around you that much?

“It’s complicated right now, Klee. You see, I said something I never should have said and I hurt their feelings. I’m just trying to figure out a way to fix it and then they’ll be back, okay?”

“Oh! Oh! I know! You should get them flowers! Y/n loves flowers!” Klee said as she jumped up and down excitedly. A small smile cracked onto Albedo’s face at her excitement.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try. Thank you, Klee.”

Klee was gone soon after with Jean pulling her away. Albedo had taken that as his chance to go out to pick some flowers for you up on Starsnatch cliff. The wind had blown them around, but the Cecilia’s he had picked were as beautiful as ever. They were your favorite flowers, one of his favorite facts about you — mostly because they were his favorite flowers too, something you had bonded over when the two of you had first met. Albedo smiled to himself when he remembered the bouqet he had gotten for you on your first date and the way you smiled when you saw them in his hand. The painting he had done of you later that night still remained in his lab up on Dragonspine. It was a moment he never wanted to forget.

Truthfully, Albedo wasn’t much of a flowers guy, but he would make an exception for you. Only now, he hoped the flowers would hold the same amount of love in them even when they were followed by an apology.

When he had returned to Mondstadt’s gates, flowers in hand and apology replaying throughout his head, Albedo set out to find you.

Luckily for him, it hadn’t taken long at all. As soon as he had walked toward Good Hunter, he had spotted you sitting at a table. Sitting around you were some of your guys’ coworkers and friends, Eula and Amber. There was plenty of food at the table, Amber was talking excitedly while Eula had an unusually bright smile on her face, and your eyes were creased as boisterous laughter fell from your lips.

The fondness in the alchemist’s eyes seemed to slip away as they made their way back to the neatly tied bouquet of Cecilia’s in his hand. Albedo looked to you again before looking back to his flowers. His hands clenched around them tightly as his mind fought back and forth.

Dammit, he thought. Truthfully, Albedo wasn’t sure what your reaction to seeing him would be and there was no way he was going to ruin your outing.

Albedo’s eyes were glued to the floor as he dreadfully turned and walked away from you, flowers still in hand and hung loosely by his side. At any moment, he felt they would slip and fall from his grip.

And by the time he got back to the Knights’ headquarters, the sunset faded into darkness and the clouds had moved in to cover the night’s moon. As he walked in, he was immediately met with the sight of Klee waiting in the corridor with her backpack all packed up for the day.

“Albedo!” She cheered when she saw him.

“Hi, Klee,” he spoke tiredly, “Is Jean about to take you home?”

“Yep!” Klee said happily before her eyes wandered to the flowers in his hands, “Are those for, Y/n?”

Albedo looked to the flowers in his hands before kneeling down in front of Klee, “They were, but uh — Y/n couldn’t take them today.”

“Awww, so Klee’s idea didn’t work?” Klee frowned.

Albedo sighed as he thought of what to say to cheer her up. The small fake smile he had shown to her earlier returned to his face once more, “No, but that’s okay. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I gave them to you.”

“Really? Thank you, brother!” Klee jumped as she hugged him. Albedo laughed softly as he returned the hug. At least he was able to make someone happy today.

Apology Attempt #2: Three Days After The Argument

Day after day, everything was beginning to feel the same. An endless blur of work and experiments. Albedo just wanted you back and it had only been three days. It wasn’t that you were ignoring him, really. It just seemed like the circumstances never seemed to line up for the two of you. The fact that you guys didn’t live together certainly didn’t help.

Albedo glanced at his clock again for the first time in hours. It was nearly five in the afternoon now and Albedo had been so concentrated on finishing his experiment papers that he hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten.

Staring down at his papers, Albedo studied their contents. He wasn’t usually one to look at his work and think, “Good enough,” but tonight it would just have to do. The words on them looked rushed, scribbles almost. The lines between words seemed to blur together like watercolor, rendering them barely legible. But even so, Albedo grouped them together carefully into their assigned folder and set them aside for tomorrow.

The bag the young alchemist usually carried to work was hung by his side once again as he exited the door to his office. Turning behind him, he locked it haphazardly. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he completely locked it, but he wasn’t in the mood to care either. It was incredibly unlikely anyone would try to break into a Knight’s office anyway.

Albedo tried to tune out those in the corridor around him on his way out, but it was just no use. Why was it so busy tonight anyway? He certainly did not know and it wasn’t like he cared either. It didn’t look important so he had no use to bother with it. Keeping his eyes turned to the floor, Albedo carefully pushed around a few people before he got to the door. But before he could even reach for the door handle, a hand was placed on his shoulder followed by the sound of his name.

“Albedo?” the familiar voice of the librarian spoke, “I thought that was you. How come you’re leaving so early? I was hoping to catch you a little later if I’m being honest. Didn’t expect you to be on your way out so soon.”

Albedo huffed before turning around, “Hello, Lisa. I’ve been working all day and I’ve got some other stuff to do anyway. You know, preparing for a Dragonspine experiment that’s coming up in a week. I’m still missing some materials for it.” His excuse was as good as any other, and it wasn’t like Lisa would question him on it seeing as it lined up with all of his other work. And if she had noticed, she certainly didn’t say anything. He could only assume Klee had babbled about his current predicament to her and Jean. Hell, all of the Knights probably knew about it by now.

Yet, the smile Lisa had greeted him with still remained as bright as ever, “Oh, it’s no worry, sweetheart. But I did have to ask, have you completed the paperwork for that last Dragonspine expedition Jean asked you to do? You know, the one with the Liyue detectives? I know it’s a lot of work, especially since it deals with foreign affairs, but Jean really needs it done by next week and you know how stressed she gets…”

Lisa seemed to trail on forever sometimes, it was one of Albedo’s least favorite things about her. Admittedly, he had stopped listening to her about half way through her little rant. Of course he knew about the papers, they had been sitting on the edge of his desk for about a week collecting dust. And how could he forget about them when they stuck out so abnormally, they were clear as day not part of his experiment. But even still, they would have to wait. It wasn’t that important, especially seeing as the investigation led to absolutely nothing and he had far more important things to worry about right now.

Albedo continued to absent-mindedly nod along as the librarian spoke. Sometimes he would chime in with an mhm or a really? Not that Lisa seemed to care he wasn’t really paying attention. A glimpse of a certain uniform seemed to catch his eye though, and as quickly as he had become bored, he had snapped out of it.

Once he registered it was you, Albedo instantly began nodding faster. Dammit, why couldn’t Lisa just stop talking right now? Couldn’t she see he had places to be?

Albedo’s eyes continued to glance back and forth between Lisa’s face and the back of your head, following your movements whenever he could so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd of Knights. He had to fix this, he had to.

“Anyway, Albedo,” Albedo’s eyes snapped back onto Lisa’s at the mention of his name, “Just make sure you get that file to Jean. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, yes, of course,” he hurriedly said, “See you tomorrow.”

As Lisa walked away with her goodbyes, Albedo felt his legs move on their own. A string of sorry ‘s and excuse me ‘s fell from his lips as he pushed his way through the corridor and around all of the people. His eyes were locked on you — until they weren’t. Panic set into his bones as he hurriedly glanced around only to not be able to find you.

If only Lisa had just finished talking sooner — no, if only she didn’t talk to him at all. Maybe he could’ve gotten to you, said he was sorry and restored your relationship. Maybe he could’ve held you in his arms tonight like he always does. Maybe he could’ve said he loved you as you fell asleep. And maybe, he could’ve kissed good morning you when you woke up tomorrow. Maybe he could’ve had you back.

Now you were gone and he had to wait even longer. Albedo bit his lip in frustration, hands forming into fists at his sides. A gentle sigh escaped him as he pushed the doors open to the Knight’s headquarters and slipped out silently.

If only he had noticed you standing by the door on his way out.

Apology Attempt #3: Five Days After The Argument

It was March Fourteenth now. The sky was dark and a little overcast, but not enough to cover the stars or the moon. Loud chatter and excited laughter could be heard from outside of Angel’s Share. Albedo stood silently outside of the door, dusting his outfit off. A little gift bag with a few colorful balloons printed on the side of it sat gently in his right hand. It was Jean’s birthday and everyone had been invited to celebrate at Diluc’s bar.

Hesitantly lifting his hand up to the handle, Albedo opened the door. A small smile made its way to his face as he gave a small wave to everyone inside. It would seem he was the last one to arrive.

Before his eyes even had the chance to look for you, Sucrose and Kaeya were in front of him. “Albedo, welcome!” Sucrose had warmly greet him. Kaeya smiled and took the small bag from him and placed it on a table where all the other gifts were. Soon enough, even Timaeus had joined them and walked the group over to the bar where Diluc had been bar tending

“Albedo, good to see you,” Diluc spoke. Albedo nodded and returned his welcoming words. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water is fine. Thank you.”

The atmosphere was nice, Albedo noted. It was warm and no one was being overly talkative with him. The food was good and his water was a little too cold for his liking, but he hadn’t minded too much. A breath of air silently left his lips as he fiddled with the cup in his hands. Truthfully, Albedo had no intention of actually showing up tonight. A birthday party wasn’t really his scene, but if there was even the slightest chance he could finally see and talk to you again, he’d take it.

“Looking for Y/n?” Diluc’s voice rung out, interrupting Albedo’s thoughts.

“Oh, uh — yeah. How did you know?”

Diluc smiled knowingly, “You just look a little lost. Everyone knows how much you love them, so it’s a little odd to see you without them. They’re talking to Rosaria over there.”

Albedo’s eyes followed the direction Diluc pointed in, only to see you looking right back at him. You gave him a small, yet, sad smile before averting your eyes and turning back to talk to Rosaria again. Albedo knew it was impolite, but perhaps now was a good time to pull you away. Besides, Rosaria wouldn’t care if he interrupted — at least, he hoped she wouldn’t.

But before Albedo could even get up to talk to you, a small hand had wrapped itself around his own. His eyes snapped down to find Klee smiling at him. “Brother! It’s time to cut the cake and give Master Jean her presents. C’mon, c’mon!”

Klee continued to tug at his hand until he got up. Setting his glass down at the bar, Diluc gave him a pitiful look. At least he was saved from the rest of that conversation, Albedo thought. It was getting far too personal for his liking. Seriously, did everyone in Mondstadt know about your argument?

On his way over to the table, Albedo felt someone watching him. When he glanced up, he found your eyes on him again. Although, this time, an amused smile was on your face as you watched Klee drag him to the table. It was rather comedic, he could at least admit that. If anything, he was just glad to not see you look so saddened by the sight of him — even if he was a little embarrassed.

As soon as the “Happy Birthday” song had been sung, everyone cheered around the table. One by one, Jean opened each and every gift with a smile and a thank you following suite. It was a comfortable little gathering, seriously, it was. But, Albedo couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. His eyes wandered around to everyone at the table. Everyone was radiating with happiness and cheer — even Rosaria, who always looked like she was on the verge of murdering someone.

It didn’t feel right.

The alchemist stared down at his feet. He couldn’t help but think he didn’t deserve to be having a good time right now, not when he was aching over the words he had said to you a few days ago. Until he could apologize to you and make things right again, how was he supposed to live with himself? And even if could find the time to apologize to you tonight, he knew he couldn’t do it anyway.

Although he nearly took his chances earlier, Albedo knew it would bring down the mood of the party — regardless of whether everyone would witness it or not. For the most part, you had looked happy tonight and Albedo didn’t want to ruin that, nor did he want to spoil Jean’s birthday.

Albedo breathed deeply in and out quietly to himself. Normally, in times like these, you would be walking right up to him, realizing he was feeling out of place again and offering to leave with him. It was one of the things he loved most about you; the way you always cared so much for him and still loved him regardless of his struggles with his social life…it never left his gratitude. Albedo stepped back from the group who was still cheering and eagerly watching Jean open her gifts from everyone. She had already opened his gift, so it would make it a lot easier to just slip out unnoticed.

Quietly, he headed toward the door without a word. Not even Klee — who always had a knack for finding him — had noticed his absence. Albedo grabbed his coat and slipped it on quickly before heading toward the door. And for the final time that night, Albedo’s eyes met with yours.

The look in each of your eyes was the same — longing, sad, and yet so full of love. This time it would seem as though it wasn’t the Gods who had gotten in the way of his apology, but rather Albedo himself. His eyes hesistantly, and rather shamefully, pulled themselves away from your own. And with that, he opened the door and left without a word.

Apology Attempt #4: Six Days After The Argument

The day after Jean’s party, Albedo felt even more miserable — if that was even possible. He never slept much anyway, but last night was horrible. Running on practically nothing, he felt awful. Not to mention, all of his social battery had ran out from the party. And all he could think about now was how much he regretted going.

Albedo didn’t mind the cold, but last night his house was unbearably frosty, making his night even worse. Not being able to handle being at home anymore, Albedo made his way to his lab at the Knight’s of Favonius at an ungodly hour. The sun hadn’t even risen and there wasn’t a single person outside except for him by the time he had arrived.

Hours had passed until more people started filing in. Noelle was among the first to arrive, cleaning up and preparing everything for the day. When she had found Albedo, her eyes went wide and she flooded him with questions to make sure he was alright. The young maid had even pointed out the dark circles under his eyes, something Albedo hadn’t even known was possible for him.

Soon, everyone had arrived and the building became a lot louder. Albedo had groaned as his head fell to his arms on his desk. Couldn’t it just be a little more quiet around here? Albedo hadn’t even drank any alcohol last night, yet it practically felt like he had a hangover with the headache he had.

The sound of the door opening and then shutting quickly alerted Albedo as his head shot up to see who walked in. He knew it wasn’t Klee because she always had the ever so annoying habit of slamming the door open. It certainly wasn’t Sucrose because she had been assisting Timaeus today. The flash of a white lab coat and clipboard in hand allowed the air in the back of Albedo’s throat to get stuck.

Shit, he didn’t know you were coming back today.

You hadn’t spoken a word to him as you walked passed. You didn’t even look at him. Though, it wasn’t like Albedo was expecting you to. You had every right to still be mad at him and knew that well enough. Today would be the day he would apologize. he swore it to himself. There was no way he would let a full week pass before he got the chance to apologize to you. Celestia would not get in his way today.

Though it seemed as though it would have to wait. It was too early and Albedo hadn’t even thought of what to say. He’d had his original apology of course, but now it had been days and that surely wouldn’t be enough to explain why he couldn’t utter an I’m sorry to you. He needed something better, something more heartfelt. Albedo had been miserable without you over the past few days and he hadn’t even known he had the capability of feeling that way for someone else until now.

Crash!

Fear washed over Albedo’s body once he heard the sound. He had been so lost in thought that he’d barely noticed it at first. But with only a tiny hallway separating the labs between you, it was inevitable that he’d have heard it eventually. Rushing out of his seat, Albedo had hurried down the hall where he heard you hiss to yourself.

In the room, he’d found glass shattered all over the floor and chemicals pooling together. It had almost looked like the scene at which your argument happened. Albedo’s eyes widened once he saw your hand, which was cut and completely covered in blood. His legs carried him over to you in an instant before he knelt down in front of you.

Albedo’s hands gently cupped themselves around yours. Your blood had even began to drip along his own hands. You knew Albedo had been rather particular about that, always blabbering about the lack of sanitation of it. Yet, it didn’t seemed like he cared much as he continued to hold them. His eyes darted around your lab, urgently looking for a sink and some medical supplies. When he spotted it, he gently placed one arm around yours while the other remained under your cut hand while carefully walking you over to it.

The medical supplies were out in an instant as Albedo began to work on your hand while you sat on the counter. The cut wasn’t too bad, if anything, it was the chemicals that had gotten into it that made it worse. No words were exchanged between the two of you during the time. You were sure it would have been painfully awkward if it wasn’t for the fact that Albedo had been incredibly concentrated on fixing your hand up.

The ticking of the clock wasn’t helping. It was quite literally the only sound in the lab — save for your occasional hisses and winces from the pain. And, soon enough, an entire hour had passed before Albedo had finished cleaning and bandaging your hand. You studied the bright white bandages that adorned your dominant hand as Albedo began cleaning up the various bandages and other supplies.

As soon as he had put the medical kit away, you had hopped off of the counter and stood right in front of him. Albedo hadn’t moved and instead was gazing into your eyes. Throughout all the time you had known him, you had never seen so much emotion mixed deep within them.

Say something.

Anything.

Please.

Albedo’s mouth opened and shut again and again. No words could make their way out, it seemed. Eventually, he just shut it for good and sighed to himself. One step forward and then another and then another. A sad and tired smile graced Albedo’s face as he collapsed against you, pulling you into a warm embrace. As if on instinct, your arms locked around his abdomen and your head rest against his chest.

“I have so much to say. But let me just start with saying, I am so sorry”

“Shhh,” you cooed. An entire week without each other. Miserable as he was, you were unfathomably worse. You could talk for hours later if you wanted, days even. You didn’t care about his formal apology right now, because all you wanted right now, was to be with him. It was clear he wanted the same.

There was nothing stuck between the two of you now. Albedo wasn’t much for believing in the idea of Gods, but he was glad they hadn’t gotten in the way once more. And as he held you tightly in your lab, he knew everything would be alright.

[a-crown-of-ash-if]

Planning for the future of A Crown of Ash and an overall update

First of all, I want to thank everyone for the huge amount of support for the prologue! I honestly never expected to see this many people interested in something I was doing for fun.

I want to start off by saying that I have started to write the first chapter.

I have also decided not to put any full dates for when an update will be released. As I go in and out of being able to predict my availability. I would rather not rush out a product with which I am unhappy or have taken liberties. It's not fair to either side of the party.

I am currently unaware of how long this story will end up being. I have ideas written down on a document, but nothing has a solid order. I work best by letting things flow as they come to my head.

While I have made this clear on the Itch page, I wish to state it here too. This project is going to become more mature in nature as it progresses. There will be blood and gore, profanity, along with mature topics, themes, and the potential of mentioned adult actions. As progress moves along, I will update the intro page with a list of warnings and potential triggers. If things do have their moments of 18+ content, that will be updated too.

Around 48 hours after chapter 1 releases I will reveal the potential love interests, and dig a bit into them as I see fit. I consider it a spoiler for what I'm planning for Chapter 1. So I'd rather wait to post it.

I am still considering adding a fourth romance option, but I am not sure if it will blend in too much with another option that I am 100% sure will be in the game. I will be hosting a poll to gauge interest after the first chapter's release.

I want it to be known that I will always put a story narrative over adding more options for the player to pick. It's not fun when you're just adding something to add it. Some choices are going to be separated to give different bits of lore. I'm building the game this way so that if someone decides to replay it, they can learn different aspects of the story they didn't notice or find before.

The same here goes for that mature content label. Mature topics and themes aren't being added just for the sake of being there. There are other projects like that out there for people who are looking for it. That's not the direction I desire for this story to take.

That being said, I am still learning coding and Twine. I am going to make mistakes, but I am always going to try my best to fix said mistakes that happen. Whether it's a spelling error I missed, something coded incorrectly, or a major bug. Whatever it is, I will try to the best of limited knowledge I currently hold to fix everything that pops up.

Once again thank you all for the support, I will slowly update the blog with progress as I see fit. Monthly updates put too much pressure on me, and I'm going to stray away from that in favor of smaller and more spread out but more content heavy updates.

[ashtronomyys]

First Meetings

Simon "Ghost" Riley & Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Mentions of Injury/Blood, Bit of Angst, Happy Ending

"You remember the first time we met?"

The question breaks Ghost out of the spiral he was falling headfirst into. "Do I what?"

"Remember the first time we met," Gaz repeats. "It was the first day when we were all at the same base. Price and I dropped in an hour early." He swallows harshly around his words. "We figured we'd be the first ones there, gave us plenty of time to get settled in before the rest of the task force showed up."

Ghost scrunches his nose in frustration. "Kyle, is now really the time fo-"

"But we get there, and we find that there you were, dropped off at God knows what hour and waiting at the sidelines for somebody to come and get you. Looking like a lost kid on the first day of school," Gaz glances back over his shoulder and smirks at Ghost. "Not that you'd ever admit that."

Ghost scoffs, reaching behind him to grab more tape to wrap the bandages up with. "That's cause I wasn't lost. Was just waiting on one of the useless lackeys to tell me where my bloody quarters were."

He takes one more glance over the supplies laid out on the table, running through the checklist ingrained in his head before getting to work. Luckily, it seemed like the bullet hadn't hit anything severe, just nipping his right shoulder and passing through the other side.

It still seemed like it took a lot out of the sergeant. Med evac not an option as they were waist deep in hostile territory, all they could do for the time being was wrap him up to slow the bleeding and push on. With them finally in the safe house, all the fight and adrenaline leaving his body left Gaz looking more haggard by the minute.

"You know it's rather funny," Gaz continues, "when the Cap'n told me to keep an open mind when meeting you guys, I figured he was going on about harsh personalities and butting heads. Imagine my surprise when we enter the complex, and he introduces me to a towering lieutenant with a skull for a face."

"What, costume-making not a part of your manual?" Ghost fires back.

Gaz snickers. "No. But then again, none of the other shit we deal with is either now is it," he winces under his breath as Ghost applies pressure to the wound. "I still remember our first actual conversation. It was late at night, I couldn't sleep, first day nerves and all, and I figured a late night jog might tire me out. 'Remember this nagging feeling, like something was watching me from the shadows. I get myself so worked up over it that by the time I'm making my way back around to the barracks and I spot that skull watching me in the dark, I bloody screamed!" Gaz laughs, "the sorriest fuckin' scream, you 'member that?"

Ghost hums along to the story, his majority of his focus on patching up Gaz adequately enough until he can get him proper medical treatment. He should be fine, really. He's seen plenty of soldiers make it out of the battlefield with far, far worse. But he still can't shake the feeling of unease that sits in his stomach, his hands trembling as he wraps the bandage around his shoulder.

Maybe it's because he partially blames himself for Gaz getting hurt. Maybe he should've taken the lead down that alleyway, double-checking their six for the both of them like he should have done. Maybe he made the wrong call, a minor slip up that now resulted in his comrade, the rock that held the 141 together, slowly bleeding out in a rickety chair some miles out from the nearest hospital.

"Ghost? You still with us?"

"Right, yeah. Solid. Continue," Ghost startles.

"I asked you a question, mate! I'll take the lack of response as a 'no' then." Ghost eyes him quizzically, and Gaz clicks his tongue before explaining. "Was asking you if you were ever going to quit smoking, eh? Go full cold turkey?"

Oh great, this again. At least Gaz isn't as hounding on him about the matter as Laswell is. "Same answer as before, if I make it to retirement. Why bring it up now?"

"It's one of the first things we talked over," Gaz shrugs, or rather, tries to shrug. "I asked what on bloody Earth you were doing, stalking around the place like a damn ghoul. You didn't say much, just offered me a cigarette to make up for being a damn creep."

"That's right," Ghost reminisces. "You turned me down. Said that out of everything out here, the last thing that was going to kill you would be a nicotine addiction." He laughs bitterly. The joke hits a little too close to home now with the circumstances they're in.

"Yeah, and you told me you didn't want to share anyway… you really know how to make a first impression, don't you?" Gaz absentmindedly rubs at his shoulder while the bandages are applied to his wound.

It's not perfect, but it should hold him over until exfil can get them outta here. It better, at least. Ghost's eyes trace over the trail of blood leading from the doorway over to the table they're sat at. He notices how his hands shake as he wraps the tape around the bandage, and he has to take a deep, steadying breath. He chastises himself for letting his emotions get the best of him now.

"I'll tell you, I'll never forget my first impression of you that day. Here I thought you might be cold, standoffish, and distant, which you can be," he tosses a smirk back at Ghost. "But that night, after an hour of chatting over the horrid smell of smoke you left, I remember seeing just a little bit of that shell of yours crack… and seeing a little bit of the man you really were sneak out from behind that mask. You remember what we talked about?"

Of course he did. He recalls so clearly how laid bare and afraid he had been that first day. Still remembers the trepidation and fear he felt at having to expose himself, leave himself vulnerable under the snare of a new team.

"You asked me if I could really trust you," Gaz continued. "Big, domineering guy with a fucking face mask and all. And I said yeah, I would. If Price chose you, then knew I could trust you… And that was the first time I saw that wall you built to protect yourself come down for just a second."

Ghost swallows harshly. God, he's fucked up big time. He let one of the few people he loves, one of the few people who truly sees him for who he is, get hurt.

Gaz slowly turns around in the chair to face Ghost now, leaning against the table for support. "I meant it then, and I mean it now Simon. Don't think that this-" he gestures to the wound "-changes anything. I know you've got my back, and I've got yours. On and off field. For life mate."

He bumps Ghost's shoulder with his uninjured arm. "So quit you're bloody sulking, Simon. I'm going to be fine, it barely grazed my shoulder. Sides, I've dealt with far worse," he fixes him with a cheeky grin. "I swear I can still feel the pain in my back some days from that damned helicopter rope."

Ghost has to take a second to look away from that blinding smile on his face. Fuck if those sincere words were actually getting to him a little bit. It was probably just what Ghost needed to hear, though he'd hate to admit. He still felt some responsibility for the situation, but the honesty did help to curb some of the shuddering and self loathing still running through him.

Always the levelheaded one of the group, somehow Gaz always knew the way to ground everyone back to reality.

Ghost turns back to him. "Yeah…you're probably right. That back's going to give out on you years ahead of Price, I'll bet."

Gaz chortles softly, the edges of his eyes wrinkle beautifully. "Oh, I'm sure you'd love to see it. Just dying for your biggest completion on the task force to get knocked down a peg, are you?"

"Course not, if you go down then that'd just leave me with Soap!"

The two men let out their own broken laughs then. Ghost's comes out harshly and Gaz's comes out clipped, sounding exhausted as he winces toward the end.

"Thanks for humoring me with the story, Simon… You did good…." His head starts dipping lower onto the table. "Fucking hell, I'm getting tired.."

"Keep upright, Sergeant," Ghost barks. "Need to see that you make it to evac." As his head dips lower, Ghost harshly slaps at Gaz's cheek.

He jumps back up for a moment in the chair. "S-sorry! Sorry! Fuck, I'm just bloody tired."

"I know. Just keep upright Gaz, you'll get to rest later." Ghost speaks softly, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Gaz, stay upright," he says louder a few minutes later.

"Gaz! That's an order!"

"Kyle!"

……….

"Doctor, he's not going to make it! He's lost so much blood. It's only a matter of time befo-"

"I'm not giving up on him yet, Grace! Richard! Prep trauma! We'll be cutting it close, but if we can stabilize him enough to-"

*Click*

"-ith of the spotted cubs along the ice shelf. He hurriedly hops along the snowy tundra… just behind his brothers and sisters back to their mother."

Yeah, that's much better.

Gaz relaxes back into the hospital bed, throwing the remote to the side and reaching over to dig out the pudding cup Price stashed for him later. He breaks the seal on the plastic cover and digs in while a sea lion cub cuddles into its mother's side for warmth. He sighs into the first chocolaty mouthful. It was the cheap, rubbish kind, but God did it hit the spot after the last couple of days he's had.

It killed him to be stuck here one more night. The clinical tang of hospitals and the unease that hang in the air always put Gaz on edge. There wasn't much he could do while he waited either. There were only so many hours of sleep he could do in the day to pass the time, and his team had all been called away by work today.

The task force visited him when they could, all three being the first thing he saw when he woke up after his procedures. Since then, they've popped in here and there, helping him pass the time by talking or playing cards late into the night.

Well, all of them except Ghost. The lieutenant still hadn't been down since that first day. Not that Gaz held him to it or anything though. He's sure he's been busy with all kinds of tasks and debriefings back at base. And if he really gave it some thought, Gaz had a sneaking suspicion that Ghost still felt some responsibility for what had happened, and was avoiding Gaz because of it.

Bloody drama queen.

He's the reason he's still here in the bloody first place! Ghost had his six the entire way through, kept the hostiles at bay and guided them out of the damn city. That patch up at the safehouse giving him just enough time to make it out until he got help. Hell, he even resuscitated Gaz when he went under for a brief moment.

How one of the top SAS soldiers in the field and one of the deadliest soldiers in the world could be such an oblivious fool is beyond him. Gaz set the empty container on the end table. Well, there's no sense in stressing over it now. He'll just have to pull him to the side when he gets back to base and have a heart-to-heart. Maybe thanking him for keeping him alive will be enough to snap him out of it.

A few more hours of flipping through channels later, and Gaz figures it's about time he try and get some shut-eye. The lights are all dimmed down by now, and only the beeping of machines and the occasional shuffle of a nurse outside are the only sounds left in the hall.

Gaz is just feeling the edges of sleep take over him when suddenly the door to his unit creaks open.

He stifles a groan rising in his throat and opts to definitely keep his back turned away from the door and feign sleep. Who on Earth would be bothering him at this hour?

Several beats of silence pass, and Gaz starts to wonder if he made up the whole thing before the slow creak of the door closing echoes in the room.

His guest stands still for a moment before stepping lightly to one of the chairs in the corner and sitting down directly behind him.

Greaat. He's got a damn serial killer watching over him while he sleeps now. Gaz is halfway through debating if he should act on instinct and call for someone, but then a voice disrupts his thinking.

"I do remember that first day."

Gaz opens his eyes. Ghost?

"You asked if I remembered the first day we met." He hears him shuffle in his seat. "I remember everything about that day."

"I was a Ghost. More so than just the namesake. Deployed wherever they needed me by whoever without a care in the world. And I preferred it that way, no being tied down, no broken promises and false hopes, and definitely no growing close with anyone." Gaz hears him laugh dryly. "Quite the way to live, isn't it?"

Gaz doesn't respond. He weighs his options, letting him continue while Gaz fakes being asleep feels like a bit of an intrusion, but this is also one of the few times Ghost has opened up to him like this. Gaz decides he doesn't want to break the spell.

"So it was no surprise to me when, the heads in charge essentially jumped at the chance to hand me off to some new captain and rid their hands clean of me. That's how I found myself dropped off hours before anyone else, left to sit on the sidelines until my new orders came in… And no, I really wasn't lost. My people didn't bother to send in the right paperwork, so I was left waiting for Price to clear the issue. Bet you feel bad now, you arsehole," Gaz feels Ghost lightly kick the bed-end with his foot.

Okay. Yeah, he did actually feel bad now for that jab earlier.

"I got told the same spiel about 'butting heads' and other crap, but Price gave me a little ribbing as well. He said 'Now Simon, I want you to know these are good people I've chosen to join the task force.'-" Ghost mimics the Captain's gruff voice. "-'I trust these men with my life, including you. Now I won't ask too much of you, but I want you to know that they have my seal of approval, and it is my hope that you can maybe gain learn something from working with this crew.' One thing I learned so far is that the Scottish are shit at making a cup'a tea."

Gaz nearly breaks his composure at that comment, all of his military training coming in clutch to keep from laughing.

"I do remember our first handshake. I still held the belief that I'd be sent off to some shithole somewhere by myself again, so I didn't bother much with formalities. Still though, you and Soap, you guys had every right to be put off by my demeanor those first few days. But you both met me with the warmest eyes regardless, like a couple of sappy dogs you two are."

Well look who's the sappy one over here, waxing poetry over their first few days as a team. Gaz is savoring every second of it though. He knew the man had a caring side to him, and it feels great to be vindicated as Ghost pours his heart out into the dark.

"And how could I forget our first actual conversation?! I'd never forget that squeal you let out when you finally saw me." Ghost chuckles.

Maybe he spoke too soon.

"Okay, but seriously though," Ghost straightens up, "I actually remember our conversation very fondly. I asked you why you were running so late in the middle of the night and you told me how you couldn't sleep. You opened up about all the things eating away at you and all the fears plaguing you, sounded awfully too similar to mine. And I gave you some advice of my own, which you happily accepted… all except the cigarette. Speaking of which, I could really fucking go for right now, but I won't, just this once for you. Hope you're happy."

Gaz accepts the small victory. He'll take them where he gets them.

"But yeah, I still remember all the stories you told me. Your journey and how you got onto the taskforce, what you hoped to find under Price's command, and how you thought you'd found it… I didn't open up much to you that night. Couldn't. But I want you to know that that back and forth with you, was some of the first /real/ banter I'd had with someone in what felt like years."

There's a long pause as Ghost gathers his thoughts. "You know I um- I think after everything that happened to me all those years ago, -well not think, I know- I know that it takes a lot for me to put my faith in other people. To feel confident enough to let that shell a'mine come down. And joining the 141, fucking hell, everything was screaming at me not to. Yelling at me that it would all just happen all over again or that-" Ghost's voice falters. "Joining the 141, it was my first time in a long while in a more permanent team. It was my biggest fear, taking the chance on someone new. I had to spend months relearning how to trust a people again… But you made it easier."

Gaz feels a pang in his chest. He's glad he's turned away from Ghost at this moment, he wouldn't really know what to say. He blinks a slight bit of wetness away from his eyes.

"That night, conversation with you just flowed so easily. I wasn't sure if I was capable of having a heart-to-heart to someone with someone anymore, but we did. And when you answered that you trusted me after all that, I think I realized that maybe I could eventually let my guard down. Fix that broken patch in my psyche and learn to trust people wholeheartedly again."

Gaz is at a loss for words. All he can think of is that it's been an honor to be a part of the remedy that helped Simon Riley come back to the world of the living.

"Anyways, all this to say that maybe you caught on that I was a kicking myself over what transpired. And you're right, it happens all the time with no warning for guys like us, you know, I just- -It still kills me to see you guys, any of you guys injured under my watch."

Gaz feels Ghost's hand, his ungloved hand, pat his side. "You all are good men. Some of the best men I've come to know. You guys took me, me in, of all people, and showed me what trust looked like again. You all deserve to see to the end of this taskforce and to see your... your sappy fucking sunsets on your bloody porch swings while you're old and graying." Oh God, did he hear Ghost just sniffle? "So maybe the other day I worried that that would get taken from you and I got scared. Doesn't matter anyway though, does it? You're here in one piece, and I was worrying my arse off for nothing. It's good to see you healthy again Sergeant, rest easy mate."

Ghost gently bumps his fist on Gaz's side again before turning away. Gaz almost wants to let him walk out of the room, but part of him feels as if he has to say something to the bloke after all of that heartfelt confession. Maybe some of Soap's eccentricities are starting to rub off on him.

"That was beautiful Simon," he says simply.

And yeah, it's a little evil after the speech that was just said, but flipping over and seeing that 'deer caught in the headlights' look on Ghost's face is still priceless.

"Fuuucking Hell, were you listening the whole time you daft bastard?!"

"'Fraid so sir."

"Right, well- -you've heard enough then, haven't you?" Ghost glares at Gaz, somehow it doesn't hold as much weight as it usually does. "Get some rest then, and heal up good. Cause the next time a bullet hits you, I'm letting you bleed out."

Ghost just about stomps to the door, but before he can slam it shut Gaz calls out to him. "Ay Simon!"

That skull mask peaks around the doorway.

"I'm glad you trust us. And I'm glad you're on the force, wouldn't want it without ya."

It's dark, so it's hard to tell, but it seems like the scowl behind the mask softens just the slightest bit.

"You too. Night Kyle."

~~~~~~~~~~

Little drabble I did for the GhostGazWeek happening on Twitter. Prompt was for First Meetings.

[thlayli-ra]

I was inspired by a writing prompt on @sinderellanightwolf 's blog and just HAD to write it down. Let me know what you think!

Kissing Request; 42 (Life or Death kisses)

Pairing - Finn Balor/The Shield (Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose)

AU - Police

Rating - Mature (sexual themes)

Contains - M/M, kissing, fondling, hostage situation

Word Count - 2,076 words

The armed men had rushed in around noon taking as many hostages as they could and barricading themselves into a small windowless room. The police had cordoned off the building and surrounding streets but the SWAT teams had been told to hold back for now - there was no clear way inside and they couldn't risk harming the hostages.

And that was where Finn came in. He was considered one of the best hostage crisis negotiators in the state, revered among his peers. Unshakeably cool under pressure with bags of Irish charm, he had faced countless situations like this before and always managed to de-escalate the situation without a single drop of blood spilled.

In fact, the terrorists had asked for him by name.

Having arrived at the scene and been debriefed, Finn pulled on a bulletproof vest, grabbed his headset and made his way under the barrier tape. He was greeted by three officers, all dressed in full riot gear and holding large rifles.

'Agent Balor,' the largest and broadest of the three greeted the Irishman with a firm handshake. 'Officer Reigns. This is Officer Ambrose and Officer Rollins. We'll be your cover out there.'

'Think of us as your personal shield,' Rollins added with a smirk.

'It's comforting to know I have men like you watching my back,' Finn remarked. 'Have they made any demands yet?'

'Nope,' Ambrose shook his head. 'They refuse to talk to anybody but you.'

'Then let's not waste anymore time,' Finn said and walked towards the building, flanked by the three officers. By now, it was rush hour and the area had gathered a large crowd of onlookers watching the proceedings with morbid fascination. Finn ignored their stares and the heat of the mid-summer sun as he turned on his headset.

'Hello? This is Agent Finn Balor, can you hear me?' No response. 'Hello, this is Agent Finn Balor, is there anybody there? Please respond if you can-'

'It's him! It's him!' He heard an excited voice on the other end of his line. 'Is that Agent Balor?'

'Yes, it is.'

'Say something Irish!'

'Ummm, what's the craic?'

A pause. 'Yeah it's definitely him!'

Finn took little notice of the strange behaviour. Gain enough of a reputation in a field such as his and the weirdos inevitably came crawling out of the woodwork. 'Now that we've established it's really me, let's try and work something out, shall we? Some of those people in there have families waiting for them at home. Let's try and get them back in time for supper.'

'Now listen here,' the voice turned aggressive, 'we have our demands and if they're not met, we're gonna open fire and kill every last person here, understand?'

'I understand,' Finn swiped aside any nerves; this was not the time for them.

'Oh, and we have a monitor in here, we're watching the news coverage so we can see you, Agent Balor and everybody else out there with you.'

The hint of a shiver danced up the Irishman's spine. He was glad of the large armed men around him. 'I have no intention of lying or deceiving you. Please, tell me your demands.'

The line went quiet and the sound of muffled voices rustled in the background. The terrorist was conferring with his partner-in-crime. 'Ok, Agent Balor. Our first demand is...' A bead of sweat trickled down Finn's forehead but he paid it no heed as he waited for their response. '...you must go up to that guy beside you and kiss him.'

Finn blinked. 'I... I'm sorry, can you repeat that?'

'Go kiss that guy to your right,' the voice said again, confirming Finn's suspicions. 'Not just a peck either, make it steamy.'

'You... want me to kiss Officer Rollins?' He eyed the officer in question who looked as confused as he did.

'You want us to shoot these people?'

'No, of course I don't, it's just that-?' His eyes met those of Rollins who shouldered his rifle.

'It's life or death here, Agent Balor,' he said, pulling up the visor of his helmet. 'I'll do my duty if you will.'

The Irishman's heart skipped a beat at the dark doe eyes and pretty face staring back at him. There were certainly worse situations he could find himself in 'Ok, fine. I'll do it. Are you watching?'

'Oh yeeeah, we are!'

Finn rolled his eyes as he walked up to Officer Rollins. Put on the spot, the pair awkwardly grasped one another by the shoulders before leaning in. Finn flinched momentarily as Officer Rollins' mouth found his and closed his eyes, the two of them standing rigid with their lips flattened against the others.

'Come on Agent Balor,' the voice in his ear chastised, 'this aint some high school church dance. Use a little tongue.'

Rollins was the first to comply and opened his mouth, his hot breath steaming Finn's skin, masterfully engulfing the Irishman's full lips. The grip on his shoulders tightened and Rollins turned his face, deepening the passionate kiss even more. Finn was left stunned when Rollins' tongue slipped between his lips, the soft caress enough to draw a needy groan from his throat.

'You're obviously enjoying yourself Agent Balor,' the voice teased. 'He must be a very good kisser.'

Finn couldn't deny it; Officer Rollins was a master at his craft. Sensual, sweet and attentive. He could do this for an eternity, locked in his embrace. By the time the officer released the Irishman, his pale skin had turned a deep pink.

It took him a while to find his voice. 'Is... was that enough for you?'

'That was perfection,' the voice on the other end of the line purred.

'Big guy,' another voice sounded, obviously his partner-in-crime. 'Do the big guy next.'

'No, leave him till last. Do the other one first,'

'Yeah, the guy with the really slim waist.'

'So, now you want me to kiss Officer Ambrose?' Finn confirmed, his voice still breathy from his encounter with Rollins.

'Yeah, yeah. Do it.' Ambrose was already making his way towards him, leaving Finn little time to think. 'Wait, take off his helmet, we wanna see his face.'

'Go on,' Ambrose prompted and Finn slipped the black helmet and visor from the man's head. A tangle of sandy blonde curls tumbled loose from his crown, which he flicked back with a jerk of his head and fixed the Irishman with two simmering blue eyes. Finn barely had time to process how gorgeous the officer was before his face was grabbed by two gloved hands and Ambrose shoved his lips onto his.

Compared to Rollins, Ambrose was sloppy and animalistic, all teeth and spittle as he nipped the Irishman's lips over and over. The grip on his face was strong and unyielding, rugged fingers curling into Finn's beard and gripping it tightly so that he could not pull away. Not that he wanted to! As different as Rollins' and Ambrose's styles were, they were as equally addictive. While Rollins' sensuality stole Finn's breath away, Ambrose's roughness kicked up his heart until it pounded against his rib cage, adrenaline flooding his senses.

Biting down one last time, the nip enough to draw a small bead of blood, Ambrose let go with another jerk of his head, shooting the Irishman a lopsided smirk. Smug bastard! Finn stumbled on wobbly legs, resisting the urge to wipe the dampness from his chin.

'Having fun, Agent Balor?' the voice was cackling now, mocking the once cool, composed negotiator. 'We certainly are.'

'Let me guess, you have one more demand?' Finn asked aloud, looking over his shoulder to spy the largest of the three men. 'You want me to kiss Officer Reigns next?'

'You are so clever, Agent Balor,' the voice cheered.

'And if I do this, you will let the hostages go?' Finn pressed.

'Yes, every one, and we will put down our weapons and turn ourselves in.'

'Then I'd best do it, hadn't I?'

Without being instructed, Finn lifted the helmet from Officer Reigns' head, finding to his delight another handsome face, with tanned skin and a strong jaw. His lips looked as delicious as fruit freshly plucked from the bough and Finn wasted no time in capturing them. The larger man parted his lips to let Finn in, wrapping his arms around the Irishman and grasping him firmly.

'Grab his ass!' the voice commanded and before Finn could ask who the order was directed at, Reigns' hands moved to his backside and cupped both pert cheeks in his giant palms. Finn pulled his head back and gasped when large, strong fingers began to knead the tautly muscled flesh, in return hearing something like a tiger's growl rumbling in the pit of the larger man's throat.

Reigns pounced, taking possession of the Irishman's lips once more, sucking them into his warm mouth while his tongue explored them further. Reigns clearly enjoyed being in charge and Finn happily gave his body over to the officer, succumbing to the larger man's raw domination. One hand fell away from his backside to grab a fistful of his short, dark hair, tugging until the Irishman hissed. Reigns had done this before and knew exactly what he was doing - the force on his hair perfectly weighted between pain and rapture. Finn whimpered like an excited puppy.

'Oh Agent Balor, the noises you're making,' the voice whined down his ear. 'You're making us very jealous. We left you the best for last, didn't we?'

Finn couldn't answer; his mouth now belonged to Reigns. He could barely even reciprocate but the officer didn't care. Between the hand in his hair, the hand on his ass and the tongue in his mouth, Reigns was getting enough from the Irishman to satiate his desires.

When he finally pulled away, Finn felt dizzy, as if he'd just been through an out-of-body experience and had abruptly returned to his senses. He swiped a hand through his sweaty hair, reality jarring back into focus when the butt of his palm hit his headset.

'Is that it?' he said, remembering the job at hand. 'Did I meet your demands?'

'Ohhh, that and more, Agent Balor,' the voice sang. 'Look towards the door.'

Finn turned around and was hit with a wave of relief when the double doors to the building opened and a crowd of wide-eyed hostages fled to freedom. At last, the SWAT team rushed inside while the police force attended to the survivors. The line in his ear went dead, replaced by loud static. Removing his headset, he was suddenly hit with the full force of his condition. He was breathless and lightheaded, his lips bruised and his chin dripping. Glancing around at the mass of faces watching him in an almost voyeuristic fashion, he felt as if he was naked. He absentmindedly popped up the collar of his leather jacket in a feeble attempt to hide from their gazes.

'Good job, Agent Balor,' it was Reigns who spoke, Rollins and Ambrose falling in line behind him. They didn't seem fazed by their strange day in the slightest. 'The terrorists have been arrested and not a single hostage hurt. I'd call that a success.'

'Aye, sure,' Finn hushed out through trembling lips.

'Here,' Reigns held out his hand, a card between his two fingers. 'Call any time, if you need mine or...' he glanced back over his shoulder with a sly grin, '..all of our services again.'

'Thanks,' Finn said, taking the card. 'I'll bear that in mind.'

The three men left and Finn stood alone, staring down at the card when he heard his name being called. Turning around, he saw two men in handcuffs being shoved into a police van. 'Thank you, Agent Balor! Until next time!'

'WE LOVE YOU!' the other one hollered before he was wrestled into the van.

Finn shook his head in disbelief. What a day! Now, he'd head back to his office and write up the paperwork. Then it was straight home for a shower (a cold one, preferably) and a beer (even colder). Before walking away, however, he looked down at the card Reigns had given him, rubbing his tattooed hand over his slick chin. He'd be sure to keep this little treasure safe - he had a feeling he'd be needing the boys before long.

Maybe for a personal assignment next time!

[ampleappleamble]

Okay, it's looking like the danger has finally passed, so maybe now I can finally start talking about it.

I was born on a Wednesday.

On Thursday, October 13, 2022, my son was born via emergency C-section. He was immediately taken to the NICU, and he stayed there for the next three weeks being treated for pulmonary hypertension. He was on CPAP at first, but his condition quickly got worse. I only got to hold him once before they had to intubate him. My husband didn't get to hold him at all. For a week or so we couldn't even touch him due to fear that overstimulation might rile him up and drive up his oxygen needs. He was fed my pumped breast milk through an NG tube. My husband and I visited him every day, watching him improve slowly but surely, eventually being put back on CPAP, then on high flow oxygen delivered via nasal cannula, and finally, low flow oxygen. We were allowed to hold him, feed him, change him. He was getting better. It was looking like he was going to be sent home soon.

Then, on October 28, his blood pressure reading was alarmingly low in his left leg compared to his right. The doctors suspected a blood clot and performed an ultrasound, but it was inconclusive. So the suggestion was made to airlift him to another, larger city so he could be examined by a hematologist and pulmonologist. My husband and I agreed.

It was the hardest thing we'd ever, ever had to endure, watching that day as the helicopter flew off into the distance, taking our sick, helpless infant son away from us.

Wednesday's child is full of woe. Thursday's child has far to go.

We'd had the option for one of us (due to weight restrictions) to accompany him on the helicopter, but neither of us was really in any condition to be alone at the time, especially in an unfamiliar city. So we stayed home, waiting until the next day for my husband's mom to arrive in our town– an arrangement that had been set up months ago, luckily coinciding with this unfortunate event (we have no idea who'd have watched our cats otherwise). The day after that, we drove two hours to the city our son had been taken to, staying in a Ronald McDonald Charity House nearby the hospital, and we visited him in their NICU. We were traumatized, terrified, and very, very tired, but everything we were told there was promising– the blood clot they had suspected was nowhere to be seen, so it had either broken up and the problem had resolved itself, or it was never there at all and the blood pressure discrepancy was due to temporarily narrowed arteries, a fairly common side effect of the umbilical IV he'd had for a while in our NICU. So finally, it was decided that we would room in with him at the hospital the next night– Happy Halloween!– and take him home with us the next day. He would be going home on oxygen, but he would be going home.

Someone came from the oxygen supply company to train us on how to use our son's new oxygen tanks and pulse oximeter and arrange for oxygen to be delivered to our home. The nurses took us to our room, hooked our son up to his pulse oximeter and to the oxygen nozzle on the wall, and left us to it.

It was the worst night we have ever suffered through in our lives.

There were, of course, the usual new parent woes– the steep learning curve, waking up every three hours around the clock to feed and change him, a lactation consultant who was very helpful but still kinda made me feel like I'd been fucking up somehow this whole time– but the absolute worst was the pulse oximeter. As per his doctor's orders, it was set by the company that had provided it to alarm loudly when my son's oxygen saturation level dipped below 90%, in order to make sure he was getting the oxygen he needed to thrive. Ideally, the alarm would only go off if, say, his cannula were to slip out of his nose, or an oxygen tube should get disconnected.

It went off constantly. It felt like every 20 seconds, although it reality it was probably only every five minutes or so. It would sound even more frequently when he sneezed or farted, or when he got fussy. But he was almost always fussy– and somewhat peaked, we noticed. It was maddening. We got no sleep, no peace, and we were terrified and frustrated. Were we doing something wrong? Was there something wrong with him? Was the pulse oximeter faulty, or the sensor? The night nurses attending us assured us that this was normal, more or less– some babies fussed more often at night and it was natural for O2 sat to dip when one was exerting oneself the way he was. But we both couldn't help but feel that this was different, this was wrong, it shouldn't be going off this often. Finally, shifts changed and our new nurse agreed with us: this was not normal. She spoke to the doctor who also agreed, and it was decided that our son would have to go back on high flow oxygen. Which meant he'd have to go back to the NICU, and he couldn't come home yet after all.

This shattered us. Because our city's NICU was a level 3 NICU and this city's was a level 4, and moving backwards or even laterally between NICU levels is not generally done, this meant that not only was our son's condition worsening again when he had been improving, but also that we would have to stay in this horrible city indefinitely until he got better, or... you know. It felt almost like a personal failure– he'd been doing so well, and then we showed up. We'd been so full of hope that our son could finally come home, home with us where he belonged, only to now have to return to Ronald Fucking McDonald House and languish in despair for who knows how much longer. We stood above his bassinet as they hooked him up to a portable oxygen tank, weeping and clinging to each other, following the nurses as they wheeled him back into the NICU.

And then we noticed that his oxygen saturation was at 100% again.

This was confusing for a number of reasons. We'd spent the whole night under the impression that his O2 readings being so low so often was "normal," or at the very least the result of a faulty pulse oximeter or sensor. Why would it be that when hooked up to a different oxygen source than the one he had been hooked up to all night, his oxygen sat suddenly corrected itself? Our new nurse had her suspicions, and asked a nurse tech to check the oxygen source in our room, the port in the wall our son had been connected to.

Turns out it wasn't working. Our son had been on room air all night.

We'd gone through that miserable ordeal of a night for no good god damn reason. We were too exhausted to even complain about it.

The tech fixed the wall oxygen while the nurse informed the doctor, and it was decided that since there was no need to put him on high flow oxygen again after all, we could try rooming in again, this time with him on working fucking low flow oxygen. We did, and it went much more smoothly. And so the next day– November 2nd, his original due date– after yet another agonizingly long wait, we were finally discharged from the hospital and we drove two hours home with our little baby boy.

And he's here with us now! He's still on home oxygen, still quite small for his age, but he's growing more and more every day just as surely as our love for him grows, and he has lots of fun doctor appointments to look forward to to make sure he's healthy. All the heartache, all the pain and misery, it was all worth it to bring him home.

And that's our birth story.

Son boy allowed!

🍼💖👶

[feverinfeveroutfic]

blood & chocolate

chapter ten: cherry ice cream smile

Alex led me out of the room and into the narrow hallway outside of there. Breathing hard, he stopped for a second right outside of the doorway, and he clutched his hands to his belly. He closed his eyes and parted his lips a bit to let out a soft whistle: thin wisps of his black hair sprawled over his shoulders and down onto his chest like the tentacles of an octopus; the sliver of gray rose over his forehead like a little plume of smoke from the kitchen. He curled up his lip as if something ached at him from within.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed at me in a near whisper and with a little swat of his free hand at me.

“Are you okay?” I asked him again, that time in an actual whisper.

“I think so. I'm just—you know, so full is all.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall: I watched him slide down to the floor beneath him all the while. He let out a low whistle, but he never seemed to be in any kind of pain at all. It was then that I licked my lips and bent over right next to him, and I lingered my face up close to his. He breathed hard from the feeling inside of him, and I knew what he wanted: he never even had to say it out loud to me for me to figure it out.

I squinted my eyes at the side of his head, and I kept my attention fixed on the aquiline shape of his nose all the while. A perfect side profile, and one accentuated by the gray streak on the side closest to me. A part of me wanted to reach out and touch it, but first, I had to break the ice with him and give him what he wanted among everything else.

“Would you like your belly rubbed?” I offered him.

“Please,” he said almost immediately.

He sank down in the spot on the floor all the way, so it looked as though he was about to lay flat on his back. The look of euphoria in his eye combined with the slight twist of pain on his face made me hold back a bit. There was a part of me that wanted to forget the whole thing and drive him back home for the night, especially since we weren’t technically all alone in that building, but he wanted it, however. I had to give the devil to which he was due, and I just so happened to make a deal with the devil himself.

In fact, the more that I kept my attention on him, the more I wondered if Alex was indeed a devil in some past incarnation of life: he had the minute gray streak and the steely blue eyes, as well as the striking appearance and the mellifluous, warm voice. He looked as though he could be a demon in disguise, ready to take on the world, especially with me as his slave to massage him back to form and comfort.

I rubbed my hands together, and I wished I had brought a small bottle of lotion with me because the skin on my palms felt a bit rough. Nevertheless, I was in deep at that point.

I leaned in closer to his face and his body, and it was right then I felt the same thing, the same plume of desire that I had felt from before we had eaten, and he and I were all over one another. It hit me like a little rush of blood to my head before it fell down my spine like a zipper to the base of my spine. The pressure was building almost instantaneously, and I had to act.

“I can’t wait until you have a little fat belly going,” I whispered right into his ear.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” he teased me as he pressed his hands to the spots on the floor on either side of his hips.

“I would, yeah,” I confessed to him with a little smirk on my face. “You would look so cute with a little pot.”

“For a second there, I thought you were inferring to actual pot.” I snickered at that as I lifted the hem of his shirt and revealed his little belly: his skin looked so smooth and silken, as if he had cleaned it the few hours before.

“I wish we had some actual pot, now that I think about it,” I told him as I knelt next to him and rubbed my hands together once again.

“Why?” he asked me coyly, complete with a little squint of his eyes and a slight raise of his eyebrow at me.

“Because of the whole thing with—you know, the munchies.”

“Oh, I see.” He snickered at that, and I made out the slight glimmer in his eye, as if he was plotting of something right then and there.

“You never know when a little Mary Jane gets into your next brownie or something,” I told him in a singsong voice.

“In my next brownie?” he chuckled. “No, no, no, no—I'm doing the full experience. A little joint in my mouth and a little Twinkie in my hand.”

I had to stop myself from bursting out into a fit of laughter at that.

Careful not to upset his stomach, I ran my fingertips down his skin, down into his belly button and around his waist for a gentle feeling of his flesh. He was warm and tender, as if eating all that food had tenderized him without a singular cause or reason of any sort. Though he only had those few extra pounds on his waist, I gently pressed my fingers into his flesh, and I tried to knead it as if I was kneading dough for a pizza.

A couple of joints, a Twinkie, and a pizza, all for this boy’s little belly.

I ran my fingers around in a tight little circle around his belly button. He seemed to shudder and shake from the feeling. I showed him the tip of my tongue as a result: he liked that. I had a feeling that he would have to admit these things to me at some point, even though I was more than willing to figure it out just by a mere glimpse at his face as well as the way in which his body quivered and moved about on the floor before me.

Silence fell all around us as I moved my fingers over towards his hip for a gentle caress and a small weave of circles by that beautiful hipbone of his: he really had gorgeous hips, in all their slightly full, shapely beauty to act as the centerpiece of his body. I lowered my gaze down to his sinewy thighs: I knew that when he started to gain weight, his thighs would fill out a bit more and they would look so lovely as they gave his body all the better shape in junction with his hips. I pictured myself lying right behind him in bed, with my arms around his waist, and then at some point, during the night, I would run my hands down onto his hips and then onto his thighs for a soft caress and maybe a squeeze of two.

I moved my fingertips over to the spot of skin underneath his belly button for an extra soft caress. He never moved a muscle as I brought my fingers to the top of his jeans. I was that close, that close to giving him a handjob if he so wished.

If anything, I considered it. I considered giving him a handjob down the line if and when we found a moment alone, be it at my place or his place, and Lou was away with Angie or in the next room with Chuck and Greg.

I ran my index finger back up to his belly button for a gentle stroke around the rim: I knew he liked that. If I could feel myself firming up at the simple caress of my finger on his belly button, then there was something to be made from it. Indeed, I happened to look down again to his thighs, and I noticed the crotch of his jeans seemed a bit tighter than before. I was doing something right.

A part of me wanted to say, “fuck it”, and give him the handjob right then and there, but I had no idea if he even wanted it in the first place, especially since we were not alone in that building. In fact, as far as I knew, Chuck or Greg could walk in there at any given second, and neither of us would be prepared, and—

“Eric,” he started in a low, husky voice, one that made me think of smooth fresh honey straight out of the honeycombs in the apiary.

“Hm?” I kept my head down so I could continually focus on giving his belly a nice soothing massage.

“What’s black and white and has a cherry on top?” he asked me.

“An ice cream sundae?”

He licked his lips, and then I brought my gaze up from his belly to his face. Those deep eyes, in all their intensity, softened up as the ocean would following a massive rainstorm the size of the state of California. He parted his little pink lips at me, as smooth and lush as ripe little cherries straight off the tree branch, and ready for my taking. And then I realized he was referring to himself.

“A cherry on top?” I echoed him, and he closed his eyes, and he lifted himself up onto his elbows. His tousled hair dangled over his shoulders back onto the floor, and even more so as he tilted his head back and showed me his neck. I kept my hand hovered over his waist, all so I could let him breathe and relax from the feeling.

“I want you to give me the cherry on top,” he pleaded, his voice still down in that near whisper. I had never heard his voice that husky before, not even the first time when he was in the apartment with me and Lou, and he was doing it for himself. He then slowly raised his head at me, complete with drooping eyelids as if the whole thing was making him so sleepy. “I also didn’t tell you to stop, either. I will give you a full decade to stop that feeling.”

“Part of me wants to open your pants,” I confessed to him.

“Do it,” he said.

“You want me to?”

“Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. I need it, Eric. Please—touch me and touch me some more. Make me bleed. I want to feel everything, every last little thing that I cannot feel alone.”

I nibbled on my bottom lip, and I returned to the waist of his jeans once again, that time to act on my own fantasy of giving it to him. I was amazed by how close I was to the space between his thighs on those first little caresses, especially as I opened his jeans and tugged them down his legs a bit to give him space. I then peeled back his underwear, and I proceeded to rub his belly some more before I brought my fingers down to that sweet spot.

My fingertips in his belly button again, and then I stroked them down his soft skin, all the way to the top of his shaft. His skin was extra soft and smooth there, especially when I reached the tip, and I stuck my finger into the hole. That made him gasp and snicker at the sensation: his stomach was full, but it didn’t seem to faze him in the least. I then held onto his shaft with two fingers and gave him a stroke with the pad of my thumb to get him moving some more.

I thought of kissing his belly and then doing the same thing but with my mouth instead as I brought in my left hand to keep up that little massage. He never moved a muscle as I moved my right hand down his shaft, towards the head for a little tickling to make him come.

At some point, I knew we were going to have to do it doggy style, but this wasn’t really the best place for it. If anything, I was more than happy to hum along and feel him and make him feel at home while he lay on the floor right next to the door and with only six feet of a buffer zone between us and Chuck and Greg. I did, however, feel his flesh firm up some more, right inside of my hand as if it was made all for my touches. He treated me to a soft moan followed by a low whistle, and it was then I caught sight of that clear pearl of liquid at the tip.

I stuck out my tongue as I could feel myself firming up as well: one of us had to come first, if not me, then him. I brought my right index and middle fingers down closer to his body to feel his nuts: given he was still very much a boy, I saw that they had not descended all the way, but I knew that skin was so sensitive, just from my own exploration. Descended all the way or not, he gasped from the sensation.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” I whispered to him, and he pinched his eyes shut and parted his lips all the way from the feeling. I moved my fingers back to the tip, and at the same time, I brought my left hand back to his belly button for a few more circles.

He let out a soft moan that sounded like it came from somewhere, and he spilled a little bit of cum on his jeans. He choked out and gasped, and then he hoisted himself back up onto his elbows to better see himself. Meanwhile, I had to stop simply because my jeans were tightening way too much right then; I undid the button, and I knew I had to do something to relieve myself because I was going to make a mess myself.

“Shit,” he muttered, and I stripped off my jeans, and I let ‘er rip right onto the floor next to his legs.

“That was close,” I said.

“Wow.” He let out a low whistle and ran his fingers through his black hair once again. “That was just—wow.” He could scarcely speak at all.

I knew there were tissues around there somewhere, and I knew that the bathroom was also right down the hallway in front of us: the two of us could walk on up there and clean off willy-nilly no questions asked, but then again, we would have to do it with our sloppy dicks hanging out in the open. Then again, I had a feeling that that wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to either of us.

I turned my head to him again.

“Need some help?” I offered him.

“Nah. Besides, you’ve got your hands full yourself.” Alex grunted as he rolled over onto his side and raised himself up into a push-up position for a second. I watched him climb to his feet before I rose up myself. I held onto my dick as we walked along the hallway to the bathroom for a cleaning: lucky for the both of us, no one was in there.

“So... you’re Jewish, and I’m Mexican,” I said as I wiped myself down.

“Yeah. My family’s non-traditional, but—you know. Shiksa is a real thing, mark my words.”

“Shiksa?” I knitted my eyebrows at that.

“Let’s just say I like people who don’t remind me of my parents,” he told me as he washed his hands.

“It’s funny—I do, too,” I told him, and I raised my gaze back over to him and those parted cherry lips in the mirror next to me. He was different in comparison to what I knew.

“Do you know what the phrase ‘blood and chocolate’ means?” he asked me.

“It’s wanting something that goes against what your family believes in?” I followed along as I tossed the tissue in the garbage can by the door: I hadn’t leaked onto my jeans at all and thus, I zipped up all the way and cleaned off myself.

“Exactly. I'm the blood and you’re the chocolate.”

“Why do you get to be the blood?” I scoffed.

“Because I wanted you to make me bleed,” he pointed out, and he rested his hands on either side of the wash basin. “And your eyes remind me of dark chocolate, too.”

“You’re black and white with the cherry on top, though, Alex,” I insisted as I scrubbed that soft-smelling soap along my palms for a few extra seconds prior to rinsing off. “That’s an ice cream sundae.”

“An ice cream sundae like—this right here?” He raised the hem of his shirt to show me his little belly, to which I rolled my eyes.

“You’re a way off before you’re an ice cream sundae, Alex,” I assured him. “If anything, I’m the ice cream sundae, what with my pale face and the dark hair.”

“You don’t have a cherry on top, though,” he pointed out.

“Nope, but I could,” I said as I tugged a paper towel out of the dispenser to the left of me before we walked on out of there.

“I think all five of us could, actually,” he said, and even now, I still have difficulty understanding what he meant by that, especially since he was the one with the cherry lips.

[sarcasticdolphin]

“Come to me” Oath verse.

Not entirely consistent with “Oath,” but I like it better this way as opposed to smut. If I ever end up writing a full fic in this verse I will reconcile the contractions.

Sleeping in Tod’s bed is infuriating. Rudolf lays on the edge of the bed, nervously eyeing Tod across the breadth of the dark silken sheets. Without fail, he falls into sleep alone, Tod far away, across the bed. Without fail, he wakes in Tod’s arms. Sometimes with his head pillowed on Tod’s thigh, a faint scratching of Tod’s pen belying the fact that the other was already working. Other times with his head tucked into Tod’s chest, the other’s eyes half-lidded, barely awake. One time he wakes before Tod, his head on the other’s shoulder. He looks serene as he sleeps, an ageless beauty etched on his features.

Rudolf fights it for a month. He’s never slept with another before. It feels odd. He remembers cold lonely beds from his childhood. Tod’s is warm - and not just physically. Rudolf dreams more deeply than ever before. Histories dance before his eyes. His father and Taaffe in front of the mirror, blood staining their hands, the floor, and the mirror itself. Tod, as far as he can tell, never answers. He sees little of the future - only smoking hints of what might be. 

Tod keeps him busy in the waking hours. Rudolf’s training as crown prince gets put to good use. He may not be able to run a kingdom himself, but Tod makes use of him with ease - the perfect little assistant. The mirror in its alcove vibrates occasionally, but Tod never so much as looks up.

Two months after he throws himself at Tod’s feet, he contemplates doing so again. His work is done, and he waits patiently for Tod to finish with the last of the ledgers. He does in good time, closing the book and letting a deep breath out, his head tipping back. Rudolf quietly made his way behind Tod’s chair before tentatively letting his hands rest on Tod’s shoulders.

“You said I should come to you.” He blurts out.

Tod’s hands take his own. “So I did.” He presses kisses to each of Rudolf’s palms. 

Tod guides Rudolf to the bed, slowly loosening both of their shirts - Tod had in the end gotten some pants that were properly tailored to Rudolf, but the prince was still in Tod’s shirts. 

Tod sat against the headboard, pulling Rudolf into his lap and evaluating him, his eyes boring deep into Rudolf as his hands went to lay on Rudolf’s hips. 

Rudolf let his own hands trace the planes of Tod’s bare chest. “I-” Tod’s finger comes up to silence Rudolf.

“My prince.” He pulls Rudolf in, touching their foreheads. Thoughts and feelings flow freely through their bond. Rudolf can feel Tod’s possessiveness, his power - oceanic, deep, and utterly awe-inspiring, and his desire. He wanted Rudolf so very much. “My sweet prince.” 

Rudolf leans forward and kisses Tod, the barest of touches of lips, a ghost, practically. 

Their minds come closer and closer, until Rudolf care hardly tell the difference. He is a part of Tod’s vast ocean.

Tod kisses him, and Rudolf is gone. Tod takes his mind and his soul. Perhaps he takes his body as well. It’s not like it matters. 

Rudolf comes back to himself much later, his head on Tod’s thigh. “Tod.” he purrs. 

Tod’s hand in his hair stills before he tugs on Rudolf’s hair, pulling the prince into his lap. He kisses Rudolf’s cheek. “My prince. How are you?”

Rudolf nuzzles into Tod’s neck. “That was....” He can’t find the words. “Indescribable.”

He can feel Tod’s laughter reverberate through both of them.

There is a hum and a sudden tug in the air. Rudolf clings tight to Tod. “What?” He groans. It is painful, a pressure at his head.

The oath that is their bond holds firm, but Rudolf feels nauseous, yanking himself from Tod’s arms and running to the washroom.

Tod follows, soothingly rubbing Rudolf’s back as he dry-heaves, Tod’s wrath and the oath whirled around them, white-hot.

Tod leads him back to bed and holds him close. “I think it might be time I answered your father, my prince.”

[ozma914]

Medicine Mishap Makes Mischief

Note: This was written before our dog Beowulf passed away last July.

Most people over the age of fifty can testify that growing old sucks. I mean, older. Growing older sucks.

One of the things that sucks is medication. Now, a person can avoid going on a lot of medicine by staying fit, eating right, exercising, meditation, yoga ... you know, all that stuff you didn't want to do, even before you could predict the weather with your knees.

Of all those things, the only one I came close to doing regularly was exercise, if by exercise you mean walking. I always loved to take hikes, and walks, the main difference being how far from civilization you are. I was going to say you could define hiking as walking on very uneven ground, but I've been on some sidewalks that made me think I was returning the One True Ring to Mount Doom.

(Why would someone name a mountain Doom, anyway? Is that where they met their future ex?)

You can see some neat things on hikes, though.

The walking by itself wasn't very helpful. First I had to take medicine for my cholesterol, which is a reaction to the human desire to intake things that are bad for you. Apparently there's a thin line between cream-filled donuts and ingesting high-test gasoline. My drug of choice is chocolate, which is the cocaine of foods. I never tried sniffing it through a straw, though.

Maybe next vacation.

Then they put me on a stress pill because of my job, which I couldn't quit because I had to pay for the stress pill.

Then, I discovered I had high blood pressure--while waiting to have a colonoscopy.

Well, duh. Of course I did--a whole room full of people were about to send a sewer router into a place where stuff's only suppose to come out. Just the same, I ended up on a pill to keep my blood pressure numbers below the height of the Empire State building. (In meters. Look it up, I'm not your accountant.)

Then my prostate blew up like a Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon.

Eventually an entire shelf in the medicine cabinet was filled with drugs, and not one of them a fun drug. This doesn't include pain relievers ... we have another shelf for them. It seemed a good time for some kind of organization. Luckily, like many men who own homes, I had several stacks of empty cardboard boxes laying around.

No, I don't know why, but apparently it's a thing.

So I liberated a small cardboard box and put it on my desk, where I could spend half an hour every morning taking my meds without disturbing my wife. Well, she's disturbed by all the empty boxes, but never mind.

At about the same time, our dog fell over. Then he continued to fall over. He had developed a nerve related condition called ... well, I can't pronounce it, but we had to rush him to the doggie hospital. He got better, or possibly I got lopsided and he only looked straight. The vet also prescribed Beowulf medication for joint pain because--well, we grew old together, and it was his time. Emily left his bottle of meds where she could easily find it.

On my desk.

"Since you started feeding me those strange hot dogs I've been seeing ... strange things."

When I get home from work I race around in a half-unconscious state, trying to get all my 6 a.m. stuff done so I can go to bed and pretend it's night. (See above about stressful jobs.) The meds are an important thing, of course, although unlike Beowulf I don't get mine inside a hot dog. Lucky dog. I mean the dog, not the dog. The meat one. The other meat one. Never mind.

Trying to do three or four things at once, I got one of his pills, filled a cup with water for my pills, walked into the kitchen for a hot dog, then back to the desk where I discovered, of course, that I had swallowed the dog's pill.

The dog's pill is a narcotic.

Now, I should have done what Emily later said I should have done: Called the vet. "Hi, I took our dog's medication ... well, yes, I am a dumbass, but that's not why I called."

But I didn't want a bunch of people laughing at my dumbassery. At least, not until I could get a blog out of it.

Instead, I stayed up to gauge what kind of reaction it had on me. Let me assure you--it did have a reaction. It was, in fact, the same reaction I used to have to drinking alcohol, and illustrates the reason why I don't bother with illegal drugs.

I felt weird. I got drowsy. Then I fell asleep. Then I slept for a long, long time.

"So, listen ... since you got to try mine, do I get to try yours?"

It's the same thing that happens when I take melatonin, and that's perfectly legal. It just happened faster, and I didn't have the nightmares. I get half my best stories from nightmares.

So, now I can say I know how the dog feels, except that I can't lick my private parts--and my back is too stiff for that, anyway. Maybe, someday, some doctor will put me on a pill like that for some age-related discomfort I haven't even though of yet. If that happens, hey--the side effects from the other pills will no longer bother me.

I'll sleep through them.

Another note: Ironically, my doctor did, indeed, respond to my increasing chronic pain by putting me on the exact same med Beowulf was on.

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

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Remember: Reading is medicine for the soul.

[theirnamewaslove]

YOU CANT COME IN THE ROOM!

The Room I moved my whole life into

Where My Mascara Still lied untouched for 5 weeks

My Panties still in the Corner of the Basket

All of my Clothes and My things here

I made a Honeycombed Home out of His apartment

And in still it was not somewhere I could call home, nor was any place I could call Home.

A life to the Family Shelter system is what I endured. While he ate and drank in the Home I decorated for US, as always he got what he wanted out of me and

....

I stood on business &

Told him he was responsible for this life too even if I was losing it but tbh He thought I deserved it .

He held me Responsible

Responsible for who I held. Responsible to Help take care of me like he used to when I was sick with a cold. We needed Responsible.

But the first 5 letters of that is Response Minus the E.

And Thats what his responses ran on

...E ...

Like the First and Last Letters of his name

Fucking

Empty

..........................

He wanted to do nothin but fall asleep while im speaking to him

like Im nothing,

.....

slammed the door in my face

& fell somber Asleep like those who are used to Chaos & become the ones who inflicts it. They Sleep The Best at Night.

.......

After he let me miscarry by myself, said he wanted to be there for me over the phone

and when It was time

He dreamt of Better things he could be doing with his time than to hear me suffer

and when he woke there was nothing more that he enjoyed than to see it

Day 3 I continued to lose any blood I could possibly have left but there was just

more ..

But Baby, Did you have time to go so soon?

Could I tell you I love you While I feel You form Once more?

Can My Stomach stay full & Round for one more day? Just for one more hour?

And we can play house and pretend?

But this is what got us into this mess in the first place....

*Why Does Everyone have to Leave?*

*Why?*

Please. Stay. But if you have to go. Please.

Dont

I never wanted you to leave.

I know I said I did once & I swallowed my Tongue as I did.

Love,

I didnt mean it that way.....:

I just wanted Safe

I just wanted to save you from him.

My heart raced at the thought of him using you to get to me

How he'd take you away to himself So that he could hurt me

But

Just know

You were never A Pawn in this mess

....

But... (hate to say)

your Donor would have treated you as one

Sometime until you were old enough to speak for yourself like Your Big Brother not even the

I Still I feel I have failed your brothers first years

Your Dad Grew up in the Foster System & Knew it like the back of his handcuffs... but I ended up in some Trying to protect your Brother

How the Fuck Does that Happen

Lying to the court under Oath

Thats how

I belive the word is Stupid,

for believing I could Believe in Him

Maybe I shouldve kept my mouth shut

"Do the right thing!"

Rang in my head. And from Pressured family members.

But the hairs stood up on my arms before I told you and I contemplated if it was a mistake to

"Do the right thing"

The Generic "Right thing" isnt right for everyone (something I wish I wouldve told my younger self)

But Only God Knows

And His Love is a mighty one

But like Old habits they die hard

& the only kind of "love" your "Father" knows

Is A. Toxic one

.....

He Looks at me with a smile on his face

Do .you .need. A. Hug?

No love behind his Eyes

No Comfort in his Smile

Just.. Humorless Sarcasm.

Like a Lion waiting for its Prey

His Once beautiful smile turned Grim in full Effect

Like he'd waiting for a moment to comfort me and take it away

Like a Candy

From

A

....

Yk

Do. You. Need. A. Hug ?

What I wanted to say was yes. But what l actually said was, no I need a fuck.

And he stopped in his tracks

His Smile fell still

Expression Went Blank

He didnt expect a quick response like that.

........

.....

**and not from you**

He stood Silent & His Breathe Stopped Short

Yeah, I said I could lay A fuck to someone else bc thats the only thing that couldve made him feel even a decimal Of how He made US Feel ...

But it wasnt True

I

didnt

have

any

fucks

to give anymore

[starrynightmovietheatre]

hii omg i just read your percy x chronically ill!reader headcannons and cried i needed that so badly today so thank you <33

anyways can i please request either a fic or headcannons for percy x aphrodite girl!reader?? tysm! i love your writing 💞

Warnings: probably about 46 grammar mistakes, none really I think

I loved this until it DELETED ITSELF?? Thank the lord I put it in a word counter and I had it there but I was STRESSSINGGGG 😭

Anyway seriously I did love writing this and it gave me smth to do instead of just marinating in my bed like the scrumptious chilli and tomato pasta I made for dinner earlier x

Elise now presents:

Nothing sweeter than my baby, never want once from the cherry tree

Starring: Percy Jackson, Sally Jackson, daughter of Aphrodite!reader

Soundtrack: Work Song - Hozier, There She Goes - The La’s, Can I call you Rose? - Thee Sacred Souls, Style - Taylor Swift

Enjoy the movie! 🎬

Jason knew Percy loved his girlfriend, Annabeth knew Percy loved his girlfriend, everyone at camp knew Percy loved his girlfriend but the gods knew that Sally Jackson knew the full extent of the boy’s love for his girl, you.

She knew how you take your tea and your coffee, she knew that you preferred milkshakes over smoothies and she knew that you loved the lace on your socks even if no one could see it. But what she mostly knew was the exact shade of lipgloss you wore, specifically the one that found his way planted on Percy’s cheeks and mouth on Iris Messages and when she picked him up from camp for special events.

On the fifteenth of December it was still sunny out in camp half blood, but the weather barrier wasn’t strong enough to keep the frost of Long Island out of the demigod’s space. You and Percy had resorted to huddle in his cabin, blankets over your legs that are tangled all together, the only difference between them being the white lace socks on two of the feet.

You sit in your silence before Annabeth knocks on the door and calls through that Sally’s here to collect Percy and is waiting at the big house. It feels oddly like a play date, your parents warning you that you have ten minutes before going back home and scrambling to gather your last few moments together.

You both reluctantly move away, untangling yourself from the other’s limbs until you’re pulling your shoes on and Percy double checks he has everything everyone will ever need for over Christmas. As your picking up anything you might have brought over you feel the gentle pressure of hands on your hips, fingers slotted carefully into the belt loops on your shorts.

“Wish you’d just come home with us.” Percy mumbles, head bent down and face pressed in your neck as he kisses whatever skin he can reach. Your hand comes up and drags through his brushed out curls and plant a lipgloss stained kiss on his temple.

“I’ll see you properly in a few days, love, it’s not that long.” You tease softly, hands travelling down to rest on top of his own before lacing your fingers with his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

You never really knew why you didn’t just go home with Sally, Paul, Percy and Estelle, I mean you lived just a few blocks along from them and your parents had known each other since before you and Percy were born. But then your dad insisted on you waiting a few days and coming home with him instead, probably something to do with his work but you’re pretty sure he just wants to see you alone and be a doting dad for the hour long drive.

Either way you barely get days away from Percy but your siblings are made well aware of the fact, your moping being a clear indication.

“A few days is ages though, a whole 72 hours without you.” He adds dramatically, spinning you around like a princess at a ball before kissing you perfectly on the lips. Your arms wrapped up at his neck as your lipgloss stains yet another part of his face.

After a moment just standing like that, small kisses exchanged exactly like the scene when you two were lying down, you follow Percy to the big house, holding his bags when he pulls his mum into a hug. Despite him being about a head taller he still slots perfectly into her arms, his face pressed on her shoulder like he hadn’t seen her in centuries.

(He saw her last night on Iris Message)

After a moment of holding her boy, Sally pulls back and laughs softly as her eyes catch on a shimmering mark just below her son’s mouth. Percy screws his face up and lets out a small laugh as well despite not knowing what she’s laughing at.

“What? What are you laughing at?” He asks, his voice genuinely confused before you realise what he’s laughing at and you let out a small laugh before hovering your hand over your mouth. He glances between you both still incredibly confused before Sally reaches up and wipes away a smudge of soft pink gloss from the corner of his mouth.

“You smudged your lipgloss.” She teases before looking at the stain on his temple as well, hidden mainly by his curls. He turns to you with a wide smile as you blush widely at the obvious pink marks standing stark on his skin before he reaches and kisses you again, the gloss smudging again.

You blush further at the obvious affection in front of his mum but he seems completely relaxed at the idea, going as far as turning back to his mum and crossing his arms mock-defiantly.

“It’s a Fashion Statement.”

Directer’s note: This is kinda shit at the end but please ignore that I was trying to finish it today 😭 anyway I got a cheeky little Matthias Helvar fic in the works and all 🤭 no one requested it but no one puts respect on my boy’s name so I gotta do it myself 🙄