#this moment of wonderful acting like damn son talk about blink and you will miss it

[dreadintensifies]

in episode 8 when charles is digging through his backpack he looks befuddled for a second

and pulls out two butcher knives

the girls put their knives in his bag, and he was confused because it acted like an actual backpack for a second. if that isnt a great character moment, then i dont know what is

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 27: Princess (Royal/medieval AU)

AO3

Prev

The shrill akuma alarm wakes Marinette up the next morning and she sighs, rubbing her head gently before grabbing the bottle of painkillers that Dick had left next to her on the table.

“Don’t leave yet!” A voice calls from the other room. Marinette frowns, but listens, quickly taking a couple painkillers and letting herself wake up. Dick rushes into the room, nearly falling as he slides across the floor in his socks. He rushes over to her and kneels in front of her, staring into her eyes. She frowns.

“What are you doing?” She asks, too tired to try and comprehend what’s wrong with her brother right now.

“Checking your eyes and seeing how bad your concussion is so I know if I need to call Adrien to keep a closer eye on you for this fight.” Dick says, frowning slightly at something he sees. He reaches out and gently pushes a spot on her head and she hisses in pain.

“Hey, ya big jerk, that hurts!” She complains, giving him her best ‘Damian’ glare. He just rolls his eyes.

“This is serious kid, you got seriously injured last night.” Dick reminds her. She purses her lips.

“I know, and I promise I’ll take it easy later, but right now I really need to go.” She pleads. Dick sighs, but nods, standing up.

“Go kick some butterfly butt.” He says with a small grin. Marinette grins back at him, quickly calling her transformations and portaling away to Paris. She blinks in the bright sunlight, trying hard to push away any disorientation she has from the stupid concussion. I can do this, she thinks, glancing around to assess the situation. She frowns at her surroundings. She knew she was technically in Paris, she could see the Eiffel tower and Kaalki never misled her before. Well, not during an attack anyway. But where the giant modern buildings should be, there were small stone buildings with thatch roofs. Glancing around, she also notices a huge, stone castle where her school used to be. That should be fun.

“I am the Dark Knight, and I will not rest until I have Chat Noir and Ladybug’s Miraculous!” A voice shouts out above the rest of the noise. Marinette creeps over and just blinks at the fashion atrocity before her. She was going to slap Hawkmoth twice when she found him. Once, for terrorizing Paris for over a year. And again for the awful wardrobe choices he made. Seriously. And the Dark Knight? Isn’t that name trademarked, or something?

“Hey Bugaboo, what’s the plan?” Chat asks, landing beside her and leaning on his baton. She frowns.

“I don’t actually have one yet. I just got here.” She says, and this time he’s the one confused.

“But you always rush over.” He says, careful not to include anything about Kaalki. You never know who might be listening.

“I’ll explain later. Any idea where the object might be?” She asks, scanning the akuma. It’s power didn’t seem too awful. It had changed most of the structure in Paris, and now it was changing people’s clothes too when they got hit by the orange light. Some citizens were in what Marinette could only assume was the height of fashion during the Renaissance, whereas some citizens were draped in obvious “peasant” outfits. But there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for the difference. Just a difference.

“The satchel looks promising.” Chat says, and Marinette grins, a plan slowly taking hold in her mind. She’d just need two paper clips, a stick of gum and whatever her lucky charm was.

---

“Pound it.” Chat says holding out a fist. Marinette grins, returning the fist bump. “Did you have time to talk? You know, about why you were late?” Chat asks, and Marinette sighs but nods. They both recharge in an alley before swinging to sit on the top of the Eiffel tower.

“I fought an akuma alone, while you were out of town.” She says first, shrugging lightly. “I didn’t think about it, honest. I’d done it a million times before with Monsieur Pigeon. But the Bat got mad.” Marinette says, not wanting to risk calling him her dad while she’s masked in Paris. It just felt like it was asking for trouble.

“Cause you fought alone?” Chat asks, frowning.

“Well, that and I sort of jammed the Zeta tubes so that outsiders can’t come to Paris during an active akuma attack.” She mumbles under her breath, wincing at the noise Chat’s neck makes when he jerks around to stare at her dumbfoundedly.

“That’s insane. How’d you do it?” He asks and she simply grins.

“Spent enough time with Pegasus and Red Robin and Oracle. Add in a tiny bit of luck and boom. I win.” She smirks

“So you were late cause you’re grounded.” Chat says simply, a proud smile on his face as he thinks he cracked the code. Solved the mystery.

“Not quite,” Marinette says with a slight frown.

“Then what?” Chat asks. Marinette lets out a long sigh, glaring at Adrien to let him know she’s not happy about this situation, she does not want to talk to him about this. He’ll just get all worried.

“Well last night I was still benched from patrol because of the whole akuma attack thing but Tikki thought I should be ungrounded so I went out anyway and then the dude that stabbed me a couple months ago found me and the rest of the Batclan didn’t know that I was out so they couldn’t help me and I was all alone and then he knocked me out and I don’t really remember much except I woke up at Nightwing’s apartment and met Starfire and yeah that’s it.” She rambles, shooting him a smile and waving nonchalantly.

“I’m going to wrap you in bubble wrap. No, I’m going to make the Batclan do it.” Chat finally says, pulling out his baton.

“No, don’t! Batman doesn’t know. Neither does Hood or Red Robin. Only Nightwing and Robin know.” She says, swatting the baton out of his hand. The last thing she needed was for him to accidentally call her dad on her. She’d be in so much trouble.

“Geeze Bug.” Chat mutters under his breath, tugging her into a hug. She sighs and hugs him back, taking just a moment to relish being with her friend.

“I’m pretty sure Batman is narrowing down his Hawkmoth suspect list.” She mumbles, and Chat pulls back from her, staring into her face.

“Are you serious?” He asks, the relief on his face clear. Marinette nods, and Chat lets out a long sigh. One that Marinette could feel in her bones, because she was tired too. She also wanted to end this fight. Hopefully her dad would have a suspect soon.

---

Bruce Wayne was the world’s greatest detective. He had solved cases infinitely larger than this one, so he didn’t understand why he couldn’t find a damn lead on Hawkmoth. Actually, he understood perfectly. It was magic. God he hates magic. It’s unpredictable, and most of the time it’s more trouble than it’s worth. He sighs and sends a quick text to Dick, double checking that Marinette had made it back to his apartment okay. He knew his daughter was...upset with him for benching her and demanding she take someone with her to Paris. But they were all precautions, just to guarantee that nothing worse happened to her. She wasn’t invincible, no matter how much she seemed to think she was. He frowns at the text he receives back, quickly hitting call and waiting a few moments for Dick to pick up.

“Hel-”

“What do you mean she’s not at your place?” Bruce asks, not giving his eldest son a chance to talk.

“Well hi to you too, B.” Dick teases, and Bruce just knows he’s grinning. He lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Is she really not there? The akuma attack ended nearly twenty minutes ago and she’s not here either.” Bruce says, trying to think of where else she would go. Jason was even at the Manor, and hadn’t heard from her either.

“No, B, she’s not-” Dick pauses, then lets out a long sigh. “It’s B. He was wondering where you were.” He hears Dick say, and Bruce is surprised to hear his son’s tone. It was less carefree and more...like a father. He was a father, with Mar’i, but it was still odd to hear him use the tone on someone besides his granddaughter.

“I had to talk to Adrien.” He can barely hear her say and Bruce lets out a frustrated huff. Of course she was with the Agreste boy again. Honestly, he seemed nice enough until Selina pointed out the crushes that the two had on each other. Now, Bruce wanted nothing more than to lock him away. Far away.

“Can you please ask her if she’s coming home tonight?” Bruce finally says, listening to the silence on the other end. He wonders if they’d put the phone on mute or if Marinette was signing furiously the way he’d seen her do over a video call with Cass earlier in the week.

“We’re all coming. See you at dinner.” Dick says, hanging up almost fast enough for Bruce to not hear the protest from Marinette. Almost. Bruce walks to find Alfred, trying not to let the fact that his daughter doesn’t want to see him again get to him.

---

Marinette glares at her oldest brother as they walk into the manor. He just grins, acting as if he hadn’t practically forced her home. It’s not that she didn’t want to come home, but she knew she had a couple bruises and a lump on her head. She also knew that Damian was apparently barely holding himself back from hunting down Slade. She really didn’t need Tikki giving him any ideas.

“Welcome home, Miss Marinette. Would you like me to look at your injuries?” Alfred asks immediately walking towards her as he walks into the room. Marinette glances around, hoping her dad isn’t around before sighing.

“No thank you Alfred, I’m fine.” She reassures him, or she tries to. His face doesn’t look like he believes her.

“Yes, I’m certain a concussion is nothing to worry about. Especially since you’ve had so many.” He drawls, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Hey, whoa. You said this was your first concussion.” Dick says after urging Mar’i to fly off and find Jason or Damian or Tim. Marinette huffs.

“It is.” She says, crossing her arms.

“The concussions you sustain in the suit still count. Head injuries are not an exact science. Nor are they an exact magic cure, either. They often heal at an accelerated speed, but can still have long-lasting effects.” Alfred says and Marinette blinks. That was almost- Almost- information about the Miraculous. And only someone who knew about the Miraculous would know about the whole head injury thing. She blinks at him for a moment, running possibilities through her head. She sighs, realizing that if Alfred had been a holder, it was definitely for a Miraculous she didn’t have. She could just...feel it.

“I promise I’m fine, and if I start feeling any of those other concussion symptoms, I’ll come to you.” Marinette promises.

“And how did you get a concussion?” Her dad asks, practically materializing out of nowhere.

“Akuma attack. Miraculous cure can’t do a complete heal with concussions, it’s too, uh, dangerous. Not exact.” Marinette lies, trying hard not to do any of her tells. She doesn’t tense up, she doesn’t grin, she doesn’t look at someone else and giggle, nothing. She lies with a straight face, which honestly almost scares her more than getting yelled at by her dad. He just hums before nodding at her.

“Will you be staying here tonight? Most of us have patrol, but afterwards Tim suggested that we all watch a movie together.” Her dad says and Marinette tries hard to suppress her grin. There’s no way.

“Wow Tim, you really wanna have a full-family movie night?” She calls out, grinning at the surprised look on her brother’s face. Because of course her dad was the one to set it up, but of course he didn’t want anyone to know. “I think that’s super cool Tim. As long as we can watch some Disney princess movies.” She adds, laughing as Mar’i comes flying around the corner with wide eyes.

“Did someone say princess?” She squeals, flying straight into Marinette’s arms. Marinette grins at her niece and nods.

“Oh yes. Timmy has decided we’re gonna watch Disney princess movies as a family all night long!” She says, laughing as her niece cheers. She glances at her Dad and tries hard to hold back the snort that wants to come out at his exasperated look. Looks like it’s gonna be a Disney night for the Wayne household.

Next

Tag list:  @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @laurcad123 @waiting247 @jayjayspixiepop @mizzy-pop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @lady-bee-fechin @corporeal-terrestrial

[writtenvisionary]

please don’t hurt me.

wrote for the prompt “start a story with ‘please don’t hurt me’” sent in by an anon to @mlwritersguild!

Summary: Tom says something that strikes Adrien the wrong way. Sabine goes into mama bear mode.

tw - mentions of abuse, small panic attack

Read on Ao3

“Please don’t hurt me.”

Sabine Cheng stares, mouth agape, at her daughter’s boyfriend. Her heart clenches at the tremble in his voice; the quiver of his bottom lip; the shakiness of his hands. The words he had just uttered came at an unexpected time and she’s now realizing that there’s something very wrong.

Adrien had been coming to the bakery for weeks now, both to see his girlfriend and to learn the skill of baking. He never explicitly said it, but he left hints that father had been controlling his meals. Already having a daughter with a fast metabolism, she knew that it was important for teenagers to eat well and often; it’s imperative for their health. This is why she encouraged him to join their family dinners almost every night, and Tom had invited him to learn how to bake.

Getting out of his father’s grip was hard, she was aware. He had to lie consistently, both to his bodyguard and his father’s assistant, in order to have dinner with his girlfriend and her parents.

She notices how jumpy and skittish he can be sometimes. This behavior only ever increases around Tom, and she wants to believe it’s because he’s a big, burley man with a drive to protect his only daughter, but she knows it has to do with his father.

(But to be honest, she forgets these things sometimes.)

Like tonight, they had been rolling the dough for a new batch of bread and joking around, when Tom said something that struck a nerve.

He had said, “Don’t disappoint me, son.”

Tom meant it jokingly, as their previous conversation had been about how Adrien might want to pursue a degree in culinary arts when he goes to university, and he fully supports this decision.

Both parents realized too late that Adrien isn’t used to hearing jokes from the adults around him. Words like that are only said in a negative connotation around him, so they really should have known better.

Adrien had gone pale, pausing his kneading of dough, and his eyes lowered to the ground. She watched in growing concern as he gulped and clenched his fists tightly for a short moment.

After sparing a glance to her husband, she took a tentative step over to Adrien. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he violently flinched away from her touch. Her heart dropped.

“Honey, he didn’t mean it like that…”

Her attempts at consoling him fell flat, because he didn’t seem to hear her. His glazing eyes stared past her at a blank spot on the wall. His breath became shallow, and he brought his arms up to wrap around his chest as a form of security.

“Adrien, I—“

Tom stops short as the young boy in front of him squeezes his eyes tight and takes a step backwards.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

It was a feeble request, his voice shaking with every word.

“Adrien, honey, no one is going to hurt you,” she says softly, holding one of her palms up to show that she has no intentions of putting it near him.

He still doesn’t open his eyes, instead his breath quickens even more. Tom bites his lip as he leans towards his wife, then whispers, “He’s having a panic attack. I’ll go get Marinette and some water for him.”

As a silent thanks, Sabine places a hand on his large forearm, and sends him a sad smile. He walks away, leaving her with a panicking Adrien.

She’s not sure what to do; Marinette had never told her that Adrien experienced bad anxiety. Her daughter is keeping a lot of secrets from her (which she is frustrated about, because she should know certain things as her mother; but also, she understands that Marinette is a teenager and she’s happy to respect her boundaries), but Sabine wishes that this was something she had told her. That way she might be able to help.

The sound of footsteps trampling down the stairs makes her whip her head around, seeing Marinette running hurriedly towards Adrien.

She slows, letting out a slow breath as she takes in the situation.

“Kitty, hey, hey, hey…” she says loudly, but not loud enough to where it startles him. “I’m here. You’re panicking. Kitty, can I touch you?”

Subconsciously, Sabine wonders where the nickname ‘kitty’ came from, but that’s not something to worry about right now.

Adrien, his breathing still unchanged, manages to crack open his eyes into slits. They dance around the room wearily, before landing on Marinette. Sabine swears she can see his fists uncurl slightly.

“Hi, kitten. Could I hold your hand?”

It takes a minute for him to acknowledge that she had asked a question, but then he just barely nods. Marinette takes this opportunity to move closer, cautiously, and slips her hand into his’. She meets his eyes.

“Okay. I want you to tell me five things you can see right now. Anything.”

His lip quivers and he lets out a small whimper, before blinking out a slew of tears.

“Uh. You.”

Sabine is astonished at how Marinette is able to stay calm in this situation. Her smile to him is forced, but comforting, and the mother can’t shake the evidence that she’s done this before.

“Amazing,” she hears Marinette say. “What else?”

Adrien sniffs, shifting his eyes to the wall behind the girl in front of him. “Th-that poster.”

“You’re doing great, kitty. Three more.”

Tom joins Sabine, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. She exhales at the contact, watching as Adrien rattles off item after item, feel after feel, sound after sound, smell after smell, and can’t help but wonder how often her daughter has helped bring him down from a panic attack.

Another question she has is, what prompted this? She knows that he’s not used to hearing jokes told in that manner, but that’s not enough to send someone into a spiral. It was his reaction to the specific words said to him.

There's one thing she can figure out right away; Mr. Agreste calls Adrien ‘son’; that may have reminded him of the man. Adrien is a people pleaser; just the mere thought of disappointing someone could cause him to spiral.

Although, even with this information, she still feels like there’s a part of the puzzle missing. She replays the scene in her head over and over again until she can’t take it anymore, and nothing.

Words cannot describe how dumb she feels when Marinette talks to them, once Adrien is asleep in her room.

“His father is, cut and dry, mentally and physically abusive.”

Marinette speaks with such vindictiveness that it takes Sabine aback for a moment.

“Abusive? I know he’s a bit overprotective, honey, but—“

“Mom.”

Marinette’s tone makes Sabine stop in her tracks.

“He gaslights him constantly, telling him that he needs to be perfect and that if not, he’s a disappointment. That’s why your words struck something in him, dad. And Gabriel locks him in his room, doesn’t let him see his friends for weeks, and when Adrien can finally hang out with us, it’s only for an hour. He doesn’t join him for dinner — Adrien has to set a damn appointment to get this luxury — and hugs from him are rare. He’s neglectful and says things that hurt, and….”

Sabine’s eyes are wide in shock hearing everything. She’s sure that’s it, but when her daughter trails off, her fear only grows.

“What, sweetie?”

“…He hit him the other day.”

“What?”

It wasn’t her that spoke, but Tom. She glanced over to see him fuming. His eyebrows are narrowed and jaw is clenched. She can feel anger surging in her chest, as well.

Marinette shifts on her feet, seemingly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, and nods.

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but I met him for pa— for a picnic in the park, and his shirt rode up. A huge bruise was on his abdomen.”

Sabine felt that she was telling a white lie there, but there are more important topics at hand.

“Has Gabriel ever hit him before?” She asks, worried for the boy she considers a son.

Marinette shrugs, “Adrien hasn’t admitted it, but I suspect that he has. Its not the first time I’ve seen him with bruises. They’re in different places all the time, though, so I just passed it off as clumsiness… but…”

“But you’re clumsier than him and come home with less bruises,” Tom breathes, finally pulling his hands away from his face and looking at his daughter, who nods.

“Gabriel doesn’t even talk to him unless he does something to disturb the appearance of his brand and reputation. But when he ‘acts out,’ Adrien gets more than enough attention from him; the wrong kind.”

Tom gulps.

“Right. And who really knows what goes on behind closed doors?”

The room falls into a tense silence.

“I understand that you were just messing around, dad. It’s just… when those words are something he hears almost every day, he’s going to take it seriously. Especially when he was raised to be perfect, and any little mistake will get him punished.

“It’s a reflex. He trusts you, dad, but years of trauma build up.”

Marinette’s explanation helps the older couple understand the situation a bit better. Tom suddenly feels extremely guilty. He holds his head in his hands, grumbling to himself. Sabine rubs his leg, keeping her attention on Marinette.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner, Marinette?”

“I wanted to, and I was getting there. Adrien just…” she sighs. “He was afraid that things would get worse if someone found out.”

“Well, things will get worse before they get better…”

She looks to the ground. “I know. And he’s already been suffering so much that I…”

Marinette trails off, feeling her eyes well up with tears. Instead of fighting them, she lets them fall.

Sabine frowns, taking everything that’s been said into consideration.

“Do you have any proof of the bruises?”

Tom perks up, “Yes! If we collect evidence against his father, there’s a better chance to get him out of there.”

“I snuck a few pictures here and there. I wish I had a video, though…”

Sabine raises an eyebrow, “The mansion’s security cameras?”

She watches her daughter’s eyes light up, then dim, and then light up again. There’s a flash of determination in them, as well, and she can’t help but wonder what she’s planning.

“You’re right,” is all she says, before her optimistic facade turns sour.

“But I don’t know how I’ll get to them without being caught.”

The room falls silent for a minute as they all think about the best course of action.

Tom coughs, catching his wife and daughter’s attention. He shrugs.

“Is there anyone at that house Adrien can trust?”

“Umm. The only person I can think of is his bodyguard, even though we’ve run from him plenty of times,” Marinette says. “He’s pretty quiet, though, so I don’t know if he agrees with Gabriel’s parenting or not. I’ll ask Adrien, though.”

“I’d say it’s worth a shot. Every encounter with that man has been lovely. I’d like to think he’s still working there just for Adrien,” Tom says.

Sabine nods, letting her mind wander. She can’t help but think of every time Adrien has faked a smile, rubbed his arms, rocked back and forth on his feet… Every time he’s had dark circles under his eyes and the ghost of tear streaks on his cheeks... She’s starting to realize that those were all tells, and she should’ve noticed sooner. She feels guiltier than ever.

“Mom?”

Marinette’s voice pulls her away from her thoughts. She blinks, feeling tears gather in her eyes.

When had I started to tear up?

“Sorry, sorry! Let’s, uh—“ she pauses, not knowing what to say, before choosing her next words. “Let’s have him sleep here for the night and see what we can do tomorrow?”

Tom nods beside her.

“Yeah. It might be too soon to worry about all of this right now. Adrien will want to know that we know, too.”

Marinette sighs, “You’re right. He’s not going to be that happy about it. I mean, it took a while for him to understand that the way his father treats him isn’t right, but he’s still working out that concept with you guys. Getting the police involved will just overwhelm him more.”

“True,” Sabine agrees, “but I will not let him stay at that house any longer if that’s what he’s dealing with. No kid should ever go through that.”

She’s serious. No matter what it takes, she will make sure that no one hurts Adrien ever again. Especially not Gabriel Agreste.

[primasveraas-writing]

"Kent v Fucking Automobile" -Ted Lasso

This is an accompanying piece to 2 others in this series, but I consider it an AU of the first one. The subject matter is the same, but things go down differently. This one can be read on its own.

Part 1 // Part 2

WORDS: 3482

XXX

Roy Kent’s life is fucking incredible.

For one, he has a gorgeous, wonderful wife, with whom he has a fucking wonderful son, and if that weren’t enough, they’re expecting another baby in just a few short months. But, not only does Roy have a perfect fucking family that he loves, he also has one of the greatest fucking jobs in the world: coaching AFC Richmond (a career second only to being a footballer himself).

He’s headed to work early; Sam needs him for something before practice, and apparently, Roy loves this team enough to miss part of his morning with his wife and son.

It’s one of those days where he’s on autopilot, barely needing to pay attention to what he’s doing. He’s slowing for a traffic light when it turns green, and then there is a mass moving towards him, and he jerks the steering wheel, dread heavy in his chest.

All Roy knows is that he’s bracing himself, then there’s pain, then a hot flash striking his arms and face, then the world stills and he’s opening his eyes. There’s an airbag in his face and horrible pressure against his right side. He blinks, slowly, and tries to take a steadying breath. That doesn’t hurt, at least, and he looks around.

His door is bashed in, bent awkwardly into his body. He can hardly see around the airbag, but he can feel the metal against his leg- his fucking leg, as if it weren’t fucked up enough- and the other car is rammed into his own. Roy swears, loudly, and realizes that there are people starting to swarm around the wreck. He groans and curses again- he doesn't particularly fancy making the headlines with this one.

He gives one of the pedestrians a thumbs up, then fumbles around for his phone. There's no moving until the other car is gone, and even then, Roy's not sure he'd be able to climb out of his seat without collapsing. The phone rings once, twice; long enough that Roy can feel his hands shaking.

"Keeley," he says when she picks up.

"Roy," his wife answers, and she sounds startled.

"I'm okay," Roy says, staring down a bystander, who's unabashedly taking pictures of the scene. "Whatever you see, I'm okay."

"Okay," Keeley says, and there's an edge to her voice now. "What's-"

"I was in a car accident. I'm fine."

Keeley gasps; Roy wavers, suddenly regretting his bluntness. "Some wanker hit me from the side. Airbags went off but aside from being very pissed, I'm alright."

He hears Keeley breathe in and out deeply, and more anxiety bubbles in Roy's stomach. He feels hot, uncomfortably warm, and when he raises his free hand to his head, it comes away wet with blood.

"Are you sure you're alright, Roy? Did you call 999?"

"No," he mutters. "Though I'm sure someone else did." A beat, then:

"I think I fucked up my leg."

"Does it hurt?"

Roy looks down, tries to move his leg, and bites down hard on his tongue to keep from yelling. "A little."

"Okay." He can hear Keeley moving in the background, undoubtedly getting her keys. "Where are you?"

Roy peers through his cracked windshield and finds his vision is blurry. "I don't know," he whispers, and closes his eyes. "I was on my way to the pitch, but-"

"Right. I'm coming to find you."

"Wait," Roy warns. He can hear sirens approaching. "Worry about Oliver first. I'll meet you at the hospital, okay?"

"Okay." Keeley manages to sound businesslike. He knows she's trying not to reveal her worry, and that she knows he's downplaying the circumstances. "I'll see you there, then."

Roy waits for her to end the call. There's a few seconds of silence.

"You're okay, yeah?"

"Yes, Keeley," Roy promises. "I'll see you soon."

"Okay," she whispers back. "Love you."

"Love you, sweetheart."

-

Keeley stands in her kitchen and releases the kind of profanity only Roy is usually capable of. Her purse and keys are already gathered in her hands, but there's just one thing she has to worry about first.

"Oliver, love, we're going-" She bites her tongue. She can waste precious minutes asking the neighbor to come and watch him; if that fails, she'll have to find someone to come over and that could take any amount of time.

"We're going to the hospital!" She declares, and her and Roy's little terror sprints into the room and cheers.

Keeley scoops him into her arms, feeling incredibly unbalanced, and makes her exit, grabbing the first pair of baby shoes she can find. She's sure she's missing something, but at least her toddler won't have bare feet.

She calls Ted and Rebecca on the way there; Ted to watch her son and Rebecca to watch her. It'll make them both late to work, she's sure, but there are few people she'd trust more to support her family.

As expected, both of her friends drop everything to help her. Ted sobers up the moment after Keeley says hello; the worry in her words must be painfully evident. In turn, Rebecca vows to be at the hospital in a time that guarantees some horribly reckless driving, which is terrible, given the circumstances, but Keeley knows Rebecca and her best friend bribing her driver isn’t Keeley’s greatest concern right now.

Unsurprisingly, Rebecca is waiting at the hospital for them, Ted at her side. He’s white in the face, which confirms Keeley’s suspicions about their ride over, but he scoops Oliver into his arms, asking how his day has been and if he’d like Special Texas Pancakes for lunch. Keeley offers Ted a wordless smile in thanks before Rebecca takes her inside.

“All I know is they’ve admitted him,” Rebecca says, glancing at the receptionist. “They wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

“Right, well, you can’t bribe hospital staff all too easy,” Keeley muses. She gives her name to the attendant, who, despite Rebecca’s glowering, tells them to wait, and they take a seat.

It’s only a few minutes before a nurse is pointed towards them. He smiles at them, which Keeley takes as a good sign, though she still clings to Rebecca’s hand during the whole of the conversation.

Roy is fine; he was brought in conscious, but with a severe leg injury and a probable concussion. The doctors aren’t terribly worried, but they have to act fast.

“We understand that Mr. Kent has a previous knee injury.” Keeley nods. “This complicates things. Preliminary tests suggest that there’s further damage to his knee. We still need to do an x-ray and an MRI, but it’s likely that he’ll need surgery.”

Keeley swallows, hard; the youngest Kent-Jones gives her bladder a kick, and she shifts uncomfortably.

“We’ll let you back as soon as we find a room for Mr. Kent.”

“I’d like to see him before any surgery,” Keeley asserts, but her voice is strained.

The nurse nods. “Of course, Ms. Jones.”

-

Soon translates to an hour, but Rebecca occupies Keeley, complaining about idiot businessmen and updates on her mum and anything else asinine that Rebecca can think of. Keeley’s leg shakes up and down, but her thoughts aren’t totally captivated by worry, and that’s good enough.

A different nurse takes her back to see Roy when it’s time, and they wind down a long series of identical hallways. The air is stale with sickness and nerves, and Keeley’s boots click on the linoleum of the otherwise silent hall. Then, they round a corner and the nurse pushes open a door, leading Keeley past curtained-off beds and finally, to Roy.

His eyes are closed. Bright red skin indicates the burn of a deployed airbag, and there are cuts on his face and arm. The hospital gown does him no favors, revealing his mangled leg and the mess of bandages covering his knee.

Tears well in Keeley’s eyes. It’s the most vulnerable she’s seen Roy, topping his last game with Richmond, his retirement conference, and his reaction to the birth of his first child. He’s pale, clearly in pain, but when his eyes open, they seize her up quickly.

She breathes out his name, moves to the head of the bed to run her fingers through his hair, and presses a kiss to the unmarred part of his forehead. His hand captures hers, gripping tightly.

“I fucked my knee,” he whispers, and Keeley nods.

“We’re gonna unfuck your knee,” she tells him, unsure of how much she means it. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Roy nods, alert, but obviously tired. His voice was shaking on their call; it’s steady now, but Roy is stuck in a grimace, and he’s barely moving as he talks to her.

“What did they tell you?”

“Not a lot. What did they tell you?”

Roy eyes her suspiciously. “Fuck all. They did a hundred fucking tests and kept their damn mouths shut.”

“Okay. Let’s wait for the doctor, then.”

“Keeley-”

They know each other so well. She’s hard-pressed to get out of this one.

She can see the argument brewing in his mind- his lips are parted, his trademark scowl graces his lovely features, and she knows that he has every right to be frustrated.

“Well, you’re not gonna lose your leg,” she informs him, and Roy snorts. Keeley bites her lip. “I think.”

“It’s fucking useless anyway.” Roy rolls his eyes. “I’m not fucking playing football with it.”

“Legs have other uses, you know,” Keeley points out, and Roy snorts again.

“Fuck that."

A smile is tugging at her lips, and Roy is about to mirror the expression despite everything fucking hurting when metal scapes against metal, and the curtains part to reveal a doctor, who smiles at them both. Roy scowls.

“You’re going to cut my fucking knee up.” He accuses, and the doctor nods.

“You tore several major ligaments and we need to prevent permanent nerve damage and limit the risk of blood clots.”

Roy’s scowl deepens, impossibly. “Fine.”

“Excellent. We’ll get prepped for emergency surgery.” She looks at Keeley and Roy, at how tightly they’re holding each other. “I’ll give you two a minute before we take you back.”

Keeley murmurs her thanks, and turns back to Roy.

“Right,” she says, brushing a stray curl off of his forehead. “You be good, and enjoy the hell out of those painkillers. I’ll see you soon.”

“Right,” Roy agrees, kissing the back of her hand. “Don’t eat shitty hospital food if you get hungry. Make Rebecca order you something fancy while you wait.” Roy’s brow creases. “Ted has Oliver, doesn’t he?”

“He does, yeah.”

“Fuck. Well, Ted can keep him when he has his massive fucking temper tantrum ‘cause of all the biscuits he’s eaten. And you fucking relax and don’t worry too much about me and my fucking knee, okay?”

“Okay.” Keeley bends to kiss him, and he smiles at her, not with his usual brilliance but something close, and that’s enough. She knows he’s in pain; she can read it in every line on his bruised face, but he’s being unflappable for her, and she can try and do the same. “I love you so much, Roy Kent.”

“I fucking love you, Keeley Jones,” he tells her. “And tell Ollie I love him too.”

“I will. He’s gonna cuddle the fuck out of you when we get home, you know that.”

“Damn right.”

-

Keeley stays with Roy until nurses come to take him into surgery. She watches them wheel her husband down the hall and through a forbidden set of double doors, and exhales.

She finds Rebecca quickly enough, who ensures they celebrate Roy’s prognosis and consciousness and retainment of his humor. Over and over, she repeats Roy’s words in her head: he’s going to be fine, and she shouldn’t worry too much.

Rebecca regales her with tales of the worst men she’s worked with; when that fails, they compare notes on baby names. They laugh and grin without light ever reaching their eyes and neither utter a word about it, but Rebecca confiscates Keeley’s phone when her Twitter mentions blow up. There are pictures of the accident, and of a bloodied Roy Kent being loaded in an ambulance, and Ted texts her to let her know that he’s brought Oliver inside where any nosy press won’t catch a glimpse of him. Her heart aches for her son, who would be distressed if he knew any better, and who likely won’t get to see much of his parents today. Ignorance is bliss, though, and Keeley thinks of Roy’s last smile to her, and not of his strained words when he called her, or the pictures of his totaled car online, or how fragile he looked in the hospital bed.

There’s a nagging at the back of her brain, though, of what would’ve happened if Roy couldn’t reach his phone, or if he left home a second sooner or a second later, or if she had gone with him, or if he had to drop Oliver off somewhere along the way, or if the other driver had been going a tiny bit faster or hit Roy at a slightly different angle. He’s lucky, after all, that it’s just his leg, that it’s not even broken, that their baby wasn’t in the backseat, that Roy will ultimately be fine after this, he’ll be fine, because he’s still so fucking young and his son is still a baby, really, and he hasn’t even met his second child yet.

Keeley takes a shaky breath, and Rebecca captures Keeley’s hand in both of her own. She rubs her thumb across the back of Keely’s hand, and the younger woman rests her head against Rebecca’s shoulder, and the two women stay like that for a long time.

-

It’s three hours before they get any word about Roy. Keeley thinks, really, that it should have been like, half an hour at most, but the nurse who talks to them says all good things, and that they’re almost done. Some of the damage is permanent, especially to Roy’s nerves, but the rest of him is fine. Walking normally will be the greatest challenge, and to Keeley, that’s a nominal problem given the rest of his prognosis.

Rebecca stews when they have to wait another couple of hours: first, the surgery has to wrap up, then Roy is brought to a recovery room to be monitored, then finally, finally, he’s moved to a private room where they can sit with him. The whole time, Rebecca lingers an inch away from total fury, but Keeley lets Rebecca be as angry as she likes, so that way, Keeley doesn’t have to be and all her energy can be focused on Roy.

It’s quieter when she sees Roy this time, more peaceful. Even Roy Kent doesn’t scowl in sleep, and despite the IV in his arm and the injuries peppering his skin, Roy appears at rest, genuinely so. Keeley waits, alone for the first time that day, for him to wake, and when he does, Roy only mumbles hi and offers a groggy smile before he’s out again. Keeley texts Rebecca and Ted an update, and that’s how her afternoon passes, her husband in and out of sleep, and not much else in the world mattering.

-

The next day is a flurry of doctors and physical therapists, and their three-year-old son navigating a hospital for the first time. Roy’s concussion means wearing sunglasses indoors, but Ted drops Oliver off with a matching pair for him and Keeley, and their first family picture after the accident is of them in the hospital, all wearing shades inside like a bunch of proper arseholes, Roy’s face impassive but Keeley and Oliver positively beaming at the camera. Roy learns how to navigate on crutches, as is the condition of his release, so he struggles his way up and down a short hallway, swearing all the while, his grouchy disposition only faltering when Oliver makes his opinion known about the matter (“Daddy has four legs!).

They’re sent home, donned in sunglasses and laden with crutches and high-grade painkillers, late that day, and Roy has to wonder if Rebecca’s paid off the press when he’s loaded from wheelchair to car without any twats snapping pictures of him at his worst. Later, he’ll confirm that she did, in fact, pay the tabloids to piss off, accompanying a press release along the same lines. He and Keeley are lucky to have such a friend, he knows, especially one that doesn’t believe in bullshit.

He’s absent at the next Richmond match and most of their practices the following week, in favor of sleeping frequently. Something wonderful about needing three fucking naps a day is that Oliver will nap with him, which gives Keely a much-needed break, and also there’s nothing fucking better than his baby asleep in his arms, because he loves his son so fucking much but sometimes it’s fucking nice when Oliver isn’t running around like a maniac, and Roy can just hold him.

Putting any weight on his leg is fucking hard. Showering is fucking impossible, bending down to pick up Oliver’s ridiculous toys is difficult, stairs are a fucking burden on humanity, and Roy is in so much fucking pain all the time. It gets better at a snail’s pace, and he manages to make it through a full day of work on an obscene amount of Tylenol and Ted literally cheering him on in the most annoying way possible. The only thing that pacifies him is Keeley coming in to kiss him at various intervals throughout the day, and he buries his head against her side and she runs her fingers through his hair, and their kid-on-the-way sometimes kicks against Keeley’s stomach, which never fails to be spectacular.

Roy masters crutches, even though the dumb fucking things make his armpits hurt, and a month after surgery, when Roy has endured physical therapy and public sympathy and a thousand fucking stairs, he begs his doctors to let him off them. And so, they introduce the next alternative that Roy will use for the rest of his fucking life.

A cane. Roy Kent, still fucking young, is fitted for a cane, which Ted immediately wants to decorate with lights and streamers and shit, and that Oliver tries to use as a fucking lightsaber and wack people with. It’s fucking terrible, but it’s also the first thing that makes Roy laugh after coming home from the doctor’s with his fancy new stick.

They told him and Keeley this, that first day in the hospital after the wreck. That he would never walk the same, that some of the nerves were too far gone. There’s nothing he can do, aside from physical therapy to build up some strength. It’s damning, and a hard pill to swallow, but Roy’s knee has been fucked since his last football match against Manchester, and he knows that. Keeley reminds him that his life is still pretty incredible, after all, and Roy has to agree.

His daughter is born shortly after, and Roy weeps when he figures out how to hold a cane in one hand and his precious baby in the other. Frequently, he looks like the corniest fucking dad ever, because it’s honestly easiest to carry Lily in a papoose, but Roy fucking Kent’s reputation holds up: he’s still the scariest motherfucker to ever grace the face of football. When he takes her to practice, though, he finds that this effect is somewhat diminished; he yells at one of the boys to tighten up, then his daughter gurgles, and Roy is caught gazing down at her with a dopey fucking smile on his face.

The first cane breaks when Richmond loses by a slim margin thanks to a few small mistakes. Roy is minutes into a post-match debrief when he punctuates what went wrong with the cane against the whiteboard, and the wood slams against metal and splinters into a hundred fucking pieces all across the locker room, footballers ducking for cover, Roy’s chest heaving as he surveys the scene. Then Ted sits Roy down, commends his incredible strength, and tells the team to goldfish their way through this, and that they’ll work through it during the next practice.

Oliver breaks the second cane. And the third. And then Roy concedes style to durability and gets a fucking metal cane that his kids aren’t allowed to touch.

His life is different, largely because he’s a father of two now, and stairs are fucking terrible and he hates them. But, aside from that, he’s still Roy Kent, Keeley Jones’ husband, parent to the two best fucking kids in the universe, football coach extraordinaire. That’s pretty fucking good, in his book, and in the end, there’s nothing fucking wrong with using a cane so long as Oliver doesn’t kill anyone with it.

[chenziee]

Thank you @kerowyn-fr​ for the cute prompt :D I hope you like it :)

[READ ON AO3 OR UNDER THE CUT]

----------

When Garp handed him the newspaper with a stupid grin on his face, former fleet admiral Sengoku already knew he wouldn't like what was written inside. Taking a deep breath, he slowly unfolded the papers and immediately, the huge, bold headline punched him in the face, making him nearly choke on his tea.

Somehow, he wasn’t even surprised that Morgans found out about Kaido’s defeat faster than the navy but goddamn it, this bunch of kids really did it. Sengoku honestly didn’t think he’s see the day of Kaido’s fall, much less for it to happen thanks to some stupidly young pirates—the words ‘Straw Hat - Heart - Kid Alliance’ seemed almost mocking at this point. Damn brats doing the government’s job for them again.

Although, he did have to admit he would love to see Sakazuki’s face when he found out about this.

Looking at the attached photo of the apparent post-victory celebration, Sengoku’s eyes zeroed in on Trafalgar Law’s blurred figure and despite himself, he smiled. The kid might be a pirate, a member of the worst generation no less, but Sengoku still couldn’t help but feel proud of him, proud of the child Rocinante died to save. When he had talked to him on Dressrosa, he was worried the pirate was going to burn out, or completely lose his way after getting his revenge, but his lively—if annoyed—expression while he ate his rice ball and shoved at an equally annoyed Eustass Kid’s face with his foot… It gave Sengoku the feeling that instead, he had found himself somewhere along the way.

With the ruins of Onigashima behind him, he really looked like he was about to own the seas  and Sengoku hoped Roci was watching and was happy about the man his adopted son had grown into, about the great things he had managed to accomplish.

Just then, Garp moved to stand right behind Sengoku, reaching over his shoulder to poke at the photo. “Can you believe these three? They can’t even celebrate beating two of the emperors at once without fighting. I bet you Luffy started this,” he said, before bursting out in loud laughter.

Sengoku had to laugh as well. It really was ridiculous; they were like three little peacocks showing off their tails to see whose is the prettiest.

Wait, three?

He frowned, looking at the photo again. Now that he thought about it, Law really wasn’t the type to shove at someone with his bare foot, judging from how reserved he always acted during warlord meetings—all two of them that he actually bothered to show up for anyway. But he could only see Law and Eustass so where was the little Monkey?

Now that he looked closer, he could see that the foot in Eustass face was twisted at an unnatural angle that could only mean the ankle was either fractured several times over, or it was made of rubber. Following the limb with his eyes, he finally noticed another body splayed on the ground in between Eustass and Law, and soon he also found the arms that held up a plate stacked full of rice balls. It looked like the little Monkey was trying to keep the plate as far away from Eustass as he could and Sengoku was sure those rice balls were the whole reason of this scuffle. Then, he finally reached his head resting against Law’s thigh, clear threat in his eyes as he bared his teeth, looking like he was ready to bite Eustass’ metal arm off.

Sengoku shook his head in disbelief. It was no wonder he didn’t notice him at first; for one, his black hair was blending almost perfectly with Law’s dark coat, and two, who would look for the little Monkey in someone else’s lap? Certainly not Sengoku, and certainly not in Law’s lap.

Suddenly, the reality of what he was seeing downed on him.

Someone had a few questions to answer.

—————

As the Polar Tang pulled up to the Thousand Sunny one sunny afternoon, Law was surprised to see another small ship already there, swaying gently in the waves next to the Straw Hats’ ship. He didn’t recognise the vessel so at first he assumed maybe Straw Hat’s brother came to visit but then he noticed the navy flag and froze.

Listening carefully, he couldn’t hear any fighting; it was completely quiet, almost eerily so. But Law couldn’t see any damage anywhere, and the navy ship seemed too small to be a threat in the first place. The more he thought about it, the stranger it all seemed. He gripped Kikoku tighter, gesturing to his crew to wait at the Tang for now before he called forth a room and teleported himself onto the Sunny.

His anxiety wasn’t eased when he opened his eyes to see absolutely no one on the ship. Looking around the deserted deck, he tried to at least find some signs to tell him what in the world had happened but there was nothing except something that looked like a half-eaten newspaper page.

He was almost starting to panic when he noticed some movement in the direction of the kitchen and when he looked, he found all the missing Straw Hats in a huddle by the door, the movement he saw apparently being Tony climbing over everyone else to get as close to the door as he could.

Law sighed, rubbing at his forehead. He swore he would murder all these people one day—if they didn’t manage to stress him out enough to kill him first.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asked when he made it up the stairs to stand behind the Straw Hats, making everyone turn around to stare at him.

“Torao, hi!” Tony whisper-shouted from where he was hanging onto Nami’s shoulder, the only one who bothered with a greeting.

A long and heavy silence filled only with the crews judgmental, accusing stares followed. Honestly, this crew was so damn lucky their doctor was so cute or he would have beheaded all of them and stuck them to the mast.

“Well?” he prompted, raising an impatient eyebrow.

Several glances were exchanged until finally, Roronoa looked at him. “We were hoping you would explain why Luffy is getting a lecture.”

Law only gave him a blank look, trying to let his silence speak for itself but before the intended effect could arrive, Usopp interrupted, “Yeah, you could have warned us. Why didn’t you tell us who your grandfather was?”

What?

“For real. I almost had a heart attack when he got on board,” Nami added with a glare at Law as if it was somehow his fault.

“Right? Between Sanji, Luffy, and Torao, I can’t tell whose family is crazier.” Usopp shook his head before continuing in a disappointed tone, “And the fact neither of them bothered to tell us is ridiculous.”

Black Leg clicked his tongue then, lightly kicking Usopp in his shin. “Don’t lump me in with them, my only family is in East Blue.”

What?

“What the fuck are you people on about? My whole family is long dead,” Law snapped, his fingers flexing threateningly as his grip on Kikoku tightened again.

A beat of silence passed. Then Robot slowly raised his hand and pointed at the kitchen with his thumb. “Explain why this guy came here demanding he talks to his ‘grandson’s super boyfriend’, then.”

“And why he then grabbed Luffy and dragged him inside to talk about you. They’ve been in there for about half an hour now. I only hope Luffy isn’t getting squeezed to death,” Nico Robin added oh-so-helpfully.

Law’s head was spinning. First a nonexistent grandfather, now he was suddenly Straw Hat’s boyfriend? Ridiculous. He might have liked being around him, maybe his heart even fluttered when Straw Hat smiled at him in that blinding way of his, and perhaps he's been letting Straw Hat touch him more than strictly necessary, possibly even holding his hand once or twice but they weren't dating. Hell, Law hadn't even confessed yet.

He shook his head to make himself focus on the matter at hand. This 'grandfather' was a more pressing matter than his unaddressed feelings. "I'm going in," he sighed, then paused, looking around the eavesdropping huddle of people. "And get the hell out of here or I'll toss you in the sea."

"Sure you will," Nami muttered with a roll of her eyes, a smirk on her lips.

Law shot her and all the other grinning idiots a glare, which finally made them all shuffle away. Law was sure they’d be back the second he closed the door behind himself, though. With a sigh, Law gripped the handle and pushed the door open.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, two people and a goat turned to look at him and Law did a double take. Straw Hat was one thing. A random, actual, live animal on board was weird, but he’d seen much weirder on this ship. The old man who was sitting opposite of Straw Hat, however, that was a completely different issue.

“What the fuck?” Law muttered, unable to say anything more coherent.

“Hello, Law,” fleet admiral Sengoku said with a nod.

“Torao!” Straw Hat greeted as well, grinning and waving at him before he pulled out the chair next to him. “Come sit, your gramps has really good rice cakes!”

Law slowly turned to stare at Straw Hat instead and, a short moment later, moved forward as if on autopilot, too stunned to do anything but comply. Only when sat down and Sengoku tilted his rice cake packet towards him did Law manage to break out of his trance. “You're not my grandfather," he blurted out, eyeing the rice cakes suspiciously.

Sengoku hummed. "Technically not but you are still Rocinante's boy so I feel responsible for you."

Law blinked; it was true Cora-san was like a father to him and Sengoku did say Cora-san was like a son to him but that seemed a little shaky a connection to warrant the old man going around claiming he was his grandfather.

"We've been chatting about you," Straw Hat said, stretching his hand out to grab a handful of the rice cakes Sengoku was still holding out, then offering a few to Law.

At that, Law finally conceded and accepted the snack. He had to admit they were pretty tasty. "What about me have you talked about?" he asked, doubtful, yet almost afraid of the answer.

Straw Hat pursed his lips and frowned, quite obviously trying to remember the actual contents of the conversation. "Just how cool your powers are and that I shouldn't break your heart or something. It's not like I'm going to do that though, why would anyone do that?"

"Break my—" Law sputtered, his eyes going wide as he stared at the pirate who seemed like he didn't understand the implications of such a statement.

"I was just making sure your boyfriend was aware of the worth certain people place on you and your devil fruit and the danger that puts you in. Also that I will feed his precious hat to Baarbara if he makes Roci cry,” Sengoku explained, pulling out a rice cake of his own.

Ignoring the use of Cora-san’s name over his own, Law took a slow, deep breath before responding curtly, “I can take care of myself—”

“That’s what I said,” Straw Hat next to him announced proudly.

Law paid him no mind, simply continuing— “and he’s not my boyfriend.” He frowned, then added one last question, “Also who the hell is Barbara?”

“Baarbara is my goat,” Sengoku said fondly as he glanced at his pet, who was by his side happily chewing on something that looked suspiciously like one of Nami’s maps—Law really hoped he was wrong about that one. “But are you sure about that?” the former fleet admiral asked with a raised eyebrow, his eyes dropping down’t Law’s body to pointedly stare somewhere just above the tabletop.

Only when he followed his gaze did Law realize the position he was in. Somewhere along the way, Straw Hat had turned to the side in his chair, putting his legs over Law’s lap and, for some reason, Law had apparently put his own hand on his knee without even noticing. It was… yeah, it felt pretty damn intimate and Law felt heat raising to his face.

Slowly, he looked up at Sengoku, who looked like he was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. Then, his gaze slid to the side to glance at Straw Hat.

The other pirate was grinning back at him, looking entirely too amused by Law’s mortification, and Law scowled. “You’re not my boyfriend,” he said quietly, sounding uncertain even to his own eyes.

“I kind of am,” Straw Hat said, his grin widening even more. “Torao, you can be so stupid sometimes.” As soon as he was finished speaking, he started laughing in that cute, contagious, absolutely maddening way of his and Law…

Law has never felt so dumb and mortified in his life.

Yet, he still couldn’t find it in himself to push Straw Hat away when he leaned forward to give Law a messy, loud kiss on the cheek. Somehow, this had turned out to be simultaneously the absolute worst and best day of Law’s life.

He was still not showing his face around the Sunny again for a while though.

[barkkletshunt]

Those Worth Fighting For Part seven

Part one          Part two

Part three        Part four

Part five           Part six

Part Seven (You’re here)       Part eight 

Taglist:

@ladybug-182 @fruit-snacc-ace @miraculous-simmer7 @lavenderjunes 

@use-flamethrower @fan-written @all-mights-asscheeks @birdie-posts

Sorry if the tags aren’t working, I tried and I’m not sure where I went wrong with it? 

If I have time the next part will come out with some art! Don’t expect the art to be any good though lol

“So then, I go to the window and there is Adrien on Kagami’s front lawn with a big sign that says prom on it, and by the way neither of us knew he was going to be in France at all. It was a total surprise. So I’m so shocked my mind completely blanks out and I shout down to him that yes, I’ll go to prom with him. He yells back ‘tall Kagami’ and I turn around and just ‘your boyfriend just asked to go to prom with me.’ Without skipping a beat she leans out of the window and tells him he’s too late, she already asked me.” Marinette laughed, wiping a stray tear from her eye that began to form from how hard she was trying to not burst into a fit of giggles until the story ended. “In the end the three of us went to prom together.”

The four around the table shook their heads. “Mari, dude, if you can’t get through that story without laughing how are you supposed to do your toast?”

“I’ll just practice it a lot until it’s no longer funny to me, simple. I’m not even going to worry about it anymore.” The blue haired girl shrugged. When she was younger she would have worried about that, but she was long since past that. At least, she hoped she was. She had done enough interviews with Alya in her teen years, and then enough speeches as Ladybug to fill her with a confidence she lacked as a teen. She was nervous, but instead of the all consuming nervousness that would make her fumble and trip over her words it was now an excited nervousness. She was excited about it. 

“I think you’ll do fine,” Felix winked at her, his face never changing from the impartial look he had on since he came into the restaurant.

They all had made their way back to the same place after the amok, even if Felix was late once again. The blond had made his excuses of needing to take care of some errands that he had forgotten, but it hadn’t mattered much to any of them. Marinette had saved a seat next to her for him and he was more than happy to take it.

“Why not talk about the moment you realized those two were perfect for each other?” Nathaniel asked, playing with the straw in his drink. “I know you have a million stories about that.”

“Something like Adrien saving Kagami from a bully, or a dance of just the two of them where they lock eyes and suddenly the whole room disappears?” Marc hummed, their author brain going into overdrive at the thought of romance. “Maybe you saw him protect her against an akuma or amok?”

Marinette thought for a moment. What was it that made her realize that they belonged together? After all those years fawning over Adrien, it was Kagami’s love for him that made her step down, but what was the exact moment? 

“It was at Chloe’s fifteenth birthday party.” Marinette started, recalling the time before Hawkmoth had lost and her world began to fall apart and fix itself simultaneously. “Adrien’s dad thought it would be a good idea for Kagami to go with him and keep an eye on his son, and they started the evening miserable because the paparazzi outside the hotel told them that they always looked so perfect that it made sense that they would be perfect together. I only got to spend a few minutes with them before being pulled away by Chloe, but when I went to find them and bring them some hot chocolate they were on the roof ruffling each other's hair and talking about anime, and goofing around like I hadn’t seen either of them do before.” 

“They saw that the other understood their background and chose to help break out of that image with each other and just be kids.” Felix’s words surprised her, but he understood exactly what had happened. 

“They were so embarrassed when they saw me that I challenged them both to hot chocolate drinking contests to ease the awkwardness. They didn’t even realize I didn’t have one for myself before chugging theirs and burning their mouths at the same time.” Her two messy friends meant the world to her, and she knew no one would understand them like they understood each other. Both of them had strict parents that would only let them escape and be kids when they were with the other, and they took those opportunities and made every moment count. They were what each other needed, and then when they got their freedoms they were still the ones they chose. “I think that’s also when they stopped acting perfect in front of me. Adrien really started to bug me to watch anime so he could talk about it with someone other than his girlfriend, and Kagami soon demanded to be my dress up doll because she never got to do that growing up. They became my best friends and honestly, I think I’m better for it too.”

“How romantic.” Marc swooned, leaning against Nathaniel who caught his significant other with a laugh. “Childhood friends, to rivals, to lovers. 50K slowburn.”

“Once there was an akuma trying to hurt Adrien and Kagami picked up the nearest weapon she could find and just went at ‘em and I have never seen Adrien’s face light up like that. The boy just wants to be loved and protected.” Nino joined in. “Alya and I were shocked, we both had our money on Adrien ending up with someone else, but we’re both happy about it. Speaking of which, I gotta update her on what’s going on here. She’ll flip.”

Felix shifted in his seat, catching Marinette’s eye as Nathaniel and Marc continued talking about Kagami and Adrien’s relationship. He wasn’t there for all those moments, he wasn’t a long term friend of everyone so he didn’t know Alya or Chloe and she wouldn’t doubt it if he had felt out of place in the conversation. 

“Pst,” she scooted herself over, getting closer to him and leaning over to whisper at him. “You look nice today.”

Felix blinked in surprise. Within seconds his face was growing warm and he used his hand to cover the lower half of his face as inconspicuously as possible. “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to say that, Miss. Dupain-Cheng?”

“I’m afraid I beat you to it, Mr. Graham De Vanily.” She whispered back. “But it’s okay, you might get me next time.”

How long had it been since she was able to flirt with someone without losing herself in the what-if’s and teenaged anxiety that had plagued her? How had one battle fighting side by side with Ryuko, Alley Cat, and the others given her so much confidence that she hadn’t had even during the fight itself? Was it that damned cat’s words? He had unknowingly complimented her to her face and she was still beaming with pride over being called brilliant. Being complimented on her looks was nice, but the way he had complimented her on her mind was something else. She supposed that was what did it, after all. Being told that she was great because of who she was and not because of how she looked filled her with a pride she didn’t even want to describe lest it dampened the feeling inside her chest. 

“Well then, until next time, you look wonderful. You’re outfit choice is on point, as always.” His comment hit straight to her heart. There it was again. A comment on something she chose being good. “And although you are trying to start a fire with my face, I am enjoying this time with you away from colour pallets and order forms. I like seeing this other side of you, Marinette.”

“I’d like to say the same thing, but it has come to my attention that you seem to only wear suits, Felix. This is the same side of you I always see.” She couldn’t help her grin. There was a strange formal banter between them that she found exhilarating. In it’s own way it made her feel like part of the aristocratic world that he and Adrian and Kagami belonged to, without having to deal with the fakeness that the latter two often complained about. “Dare I say, I don’t believe you own anything that isn’t a suit.”

“I’d hate to inform you of this, but you’re incorrect on that front.” Felix moved the hand that was covering his face to let himself rest his chin upon it. “I do, and I’d prefer it if you don’t go to the press with this, own a few sets of pajamas.”

“And are they silk and made to look like a suit?” She asked, now leaning against him to softly poke at his arm. “I bet you had them custom made so that you would never appear unprofessional.” 

“Well, well, aren’t you curious to see my pajamas? Shame you won’t get to see them until our fourth date.” Felix leaned his head against hers, and her heart began to race. 

“So, are you two actually a thing?” Nino’s voice broke them out of their moment. Marinette and Felix realized how it must have looked to the others and immediately sat straight in their seats. 

Nathaniel elbowed Nino in the ribs. “Dude!”

“What? I’m just trying to clear things up for my daily Alya report.” Nino tried to defend himself from the onslaught of hands trying to hit him from Marc and Nathaniel. “It gets complicated sometimes and you know my girl won’t let anything rest until she has all the info!”

“If Miss. Dupain-Cheng would like to, as you put it, actually be a thing, then I would be honoured to.” He said it so simply that Marinette wasn’t sure why she had hesitated before. He did like her. 

“Only if you wear your pajamas to our next late night planning session.” Marinette wasn’t willing to let the pajamas slide. “I have to see you out of a suit before we get all lovey dovey. It’s a rule.”

“Did you make that rule just for me?”

“Of course.”

“Well, don’t I feel special.” Felix thought to himself, making a bit of a show of it as he tossed his head side to hide. His braid that previously rested on his shoulder now swinging back and forth behind him, looking like a cat's tail as it got ready to play. “I think I have room to negotiate here, so if I may I am going to put the added condition that you must also wear your pajamas.”

“I don’t think this is supposed to be a business transaction, dude,” Nino tried, but Marinette held her hand up. She could negotiate. 

“I’ll accept those terms on the condition that you buy coffee, and we get to watch a movie together with some popcorn.” Marinette raised her brow, daring Felix to try to get a better deal out of her. 

“If I am purchasing coffee, popcorn, and a movie, then I will push for some baked goods from your parents bakery.” Felix held out his hand. “Well?”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Graham De Vanily, but I accept your terms.” Marinette took his hand and shook it. That was the most fun she had ever had while figuring out plans for a date, and she knew she’d have more fun watching the movie with Felix than she just did. “A movie date in our pajamas with snacks it is.”

“I’ll pick you up friday night at eight?” 

“I can’t wait to see your suit pajamas.”

“I bet you have frills on yours.”

“And you don’t?”

[heyitsyn]

Mess Up

TimeTraveler!Son x Haikyuu!!

a/n: lmao im really sorry about this :’( this is just a brain dump and something i thought of while i was watching the stage play and i was thinking about it last night until i fell asleep

p.s. your son’s name is natsu in this one and hes an oc so dont be confused as to who this guy is 😂

summary: your son accidentally stumbles through time and the only way he can go back is if his mother and father get together. the only problem? he doesnt know who his father is

he,,,, messed up

that was clear the moment he woke up to a supposed bicycle accident in early morning when it shouldve been a car accident at the dead of night

lets take a flashback shall we

natsu came home after volleyball practice around 8 at night and he stumbled through the front door where he could smell the delicious food that you were cooking

‘ma! tadaima!’

he shouted and you peeked from the hallway with your blue apron and ladle and a close-eyed grin

‘okaeri, baby!’

his slippers padded across the wooden floors to go to the kitchen and watch as you stirred the miso soup

‘how was practice, dumpling?’

omg i would totally call my future kids that though

he shrugged, even though you couldnt see him, and went to the fridge to grab a bottled water before taking a sip

‘inter-high is coming up so captain’s been making us practice longer’

he answered then went to jump on the counter beside the stove so you could see him

he turned silent as he inspected your features and how youthful you still looked despite going through so many stressful times and hardships of raising your son alone

but he was really wondering what was exactly your purpose of being here since you rarely cooked for him due to being busy at work and therefore coming home late

‘ma, why are you here early?’

you noticeably stopped for a second before smiling, eyes shifting from the pot to him

‘i,,, have something to talk about with you’

natsu blinked then leaned against the wall and crossed his arms

‘is it something bad? but youre cooking my favorite so it must be something good. then again, it might be something bad but you want to be on my good side so youre bribing me with-’

‘natsu’

you softly called out to him and he stopped

you turned off the stove and shuffled to the side so you could stand in between his legs

no words were said as a sad look passed your eyes and you cupped his face, looking at him

‘youve grown so much, natsu. ma is sorry that she wasnt here to watch you grow. can you forgive me?’

natsu let out a confused sound and he placed his hands on top of yours from his face then quirked an eyebrow

‘ma, whats going on?’

he slowly asked

you continued to look through every feature of your son and grimaced slightly as his father’s stood out much more than you thought

‘come. lets eat while we talk’

dinner was tense

it was more of the tension coming from you and natsu being so worried and confused that he couldnt even eat his favorite

suddenly, he slammed his chopsticks to the table, fed up with the silence and genuinely worried by your behavior

‘ma, tell me whats wrong’

you winced and swallowed before shakingly placing your own utensils down and looking at a stain on the table from when he was 5 and accidentally spilled dye from his tye-dye activity

‘natsu, i,,,’

you drifted off but he gestured for you to continue

‘first off,,, i want you to know that i love you and that i only want what’s best for you. second,,, i hope you will go through with this because i,,, dont want you to bear this,,, this grudge for the rest of your life’

‘am i adopted?’

he demanded but you looked at him in shock

‘what? no! we literally have the same hair color and eyes, dumpling!’

then he let out a relieved sigh

‘thats the worst thing i thought of so i feel better now. come on, hit me’

you chuckled but went back to talking

‘your father,,, wants to meet you’

nope, that was actually the worst thing he heard

‘father? what, father?’

he couldnt stop the venom that dripped from his words and you flinched because you knew he would act like this

‘we bumped into each other at the airport,,,, he told me about,,, wanting to meet,, you’

you mumbled, now concentrating at your laced fingers

‘well, you can tell him to fck off because the feeling’s not mutual’

natsu growled then continued shoveling down his rice but you reached out and softly placed a hand on his arm and sent him a pleading look

‘darling, i-,,, i dont want to do this either. but this hatred for him-your anger- i dont want you to live with this! this might not show now but it will affect you in the future with a-a future family! he will drag you down but if you just--- just talk to him once! just once-’

natsu banged a fist on the table and you gasped at the sudden sound

‘HE WANTED YOU TO KILL ME’

he shouted, anger and rage reeking from his spot across you

‘HE LEFT YOU TO FEND FOR YOURSELF BECAUSE HE WAS TOO MUCH OF A DAMN COWARD TO OWN UP TO A CHILD HE HELPED MAKE. OH SO WHAT- ALL BECAUSE HE JUST WANTED TO SCREW? A FUN TIME THEN THROW YOU-US- AWAY? NAH, MA, WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO MEET SOMEONE WHO NEVER WANTED ME IN THE FIRST PLACE?’

you gulped because right now, you were able to see the similarity to his father

‘he just wants to see you-to talk to you’

‘BUT WHAT ABOUT ME? I DONT WANT TO SEE HIS FCKING FACE BECAUSE IF I DO, I MIGHT PLUMMET HIM TO THE GROUND’

‘natsu, please stop yelling at me’

you pleaded and he stared at you angrily but turned his gaze back to the chicken bites

‘every thought of him makes me angry so if i see him, i will lose every control i have. hes nothing but a stranger to me-wait, no, hes like dirt that deserves nothing but bad luck to come his way. its either he wanted me or cant have me. and he chose wrong so hes going to have live with it for the rest of his life and pretend i dont even exist. and thats that’

you ran your hands on your face then closed your eyes

‘natsu, you dont understand, we-- we were children! i was still a student! we didnt know,, we didnt know anything about babies! i-i feel like shite because i brought upon this rage in you towards him, your father! i want to make things right! to make peace!’

‘DO YOU THINK I NEVER SAW THE TIMES YOU SAT ON THIS SAME FCKING TABLE, LOOKING AT THE BANK ACCOUNT AND CRYING BECAUSE WE WOULDNT HAVE ENOUGH FOR FOOD TOMORROW? OR-OR WHEN YOU BEGGED-BEGGED- YOUR BOSS FOR MORE SHIFTS SO YOU COULD MAINTAIN A ROOF OVER OUR HEAD? YOU THINK I DONT SEE THAT SHITE?! BECAUSE I DO! I SEE IT AND IT STILL GIVES ME NIGHTMARES TO THIS DAY BECAUSE I COULDNT DO ANYTHING TO HELP YOU! I JUST SAT THERE AND LET YOU SUFFER IN SECRET BECAUSE I WAS JUST A CHILD! AND DO YOU KNOW WHO’S AT FAULT WITH ALL OF THIS?! HIM! HES THE REASON WHY YOU SHED EVERY BLOOD, EVERY SWEAT, AND EVERY TEAR! ITS BECAUSE OF HIM I NEVER SEE YOU BECAUSE YOURE BUSTING YOUR ASS AT WORK FOR ME! ITS BECAUSE OF HIM THAT I PLAY LIKE MY LIFE DEPENDS ON IT SO I CAN BE SCOUTED AND EARN MONEY FOR US IN THE FUTURE! HIM! ALL HIM!’

angry tears were falling down his face and you stood up to hold him but he shot up

‘natsu-baby-please calm-’

‘WHO DOES THAT TO A CHILD’

his voice cracked and he hiccuped

‘IT DIGUSTS ME THAT I SHARE THE SAME BLOOD AS HIM AND I AM MADE WITH 50% OF HIM! AND I SEE THAT LOOK IN YOUR EYES BECAUSE I REMIND YOU OF HIM, DONT I? I HATE THAT! HE DID THAT TO YOU!’

you held on to him and tried to tell him to calm down because you knew how distructive he could be

‘I HATE HIM. AND I CANT BELIEVE YOURE TRYING TO CONVINCE ME TO SEE HIM. HOW COULD YOU’

maybe it mustve been the stress from midterms and the competitions but his heart was hammering and he could see nothing but red and feel nothing else but anger running through his veins

‘no, dumpling, youre misunderstanding because i-’

but he swatted your hand away, eyes staring at his shoes

‘i need to get away right now. just- i’ll be at katsuki’s house. dinner was good so thanks’

he mumbled and rushed to the hallway, picking up his gym bag and quickly slipping on his shoes

you ran to the door and held on to him

‘natsu we can talk this out! please! dont go! just stay-’

he shut his eyes to calm himself down before turning and giving you a soft kiss on your forehead

‘ill be back tomorrow. just let me go blow off some steam, kay, ma?’

but he didnt even give you an answer because he was already out the door

--

the walk from his apartment complex to katsuki’s house should’ve only taken nearly 10 minutes but he was so pre-occupied and distracted that he ended up missing the turns and ended up in an unfamiliar street

based on his surroundings, he was in the city but he remained his gaze on his shoes, just walking and walking, not stopping

this caused him to miss the stoplight and he was the only person who continued walking, the shouts and yells from the pedestrians falling deaf on his ears 

but it finally opened up with a loud honking and a bright light that made him freeze in shock until it collided with him, sending him flying and falling unconscious

---

natsu groaned, not because of the pain but because of the bright light

‘oh god, i died and im going to the light’

he mumbled but a frantic shout made his eyes fully open up

‘NO DONT GO TO THE LIGHT! OH GOD! I JUST KILLED SOMEONE!’

natsu turned to the direction of the voice and he jumped then rolled over to get away but indeed, the pain from the collision stopped him

‘ugh’

he groaned and winced

‘hey, hey, you okay?’

the high-pitched voice asked and natsu raised his head to see the boy with orange hair kneeled down in front of him and hands hovering over him

‘i feel,,, ugh’

natsu sniffed and the boy helped him sit up so he could fully look around

‘where am i?’

he asked and the boy shuffled to kneel down beside him

‘japan. sendai. oh, im hinata shoyo by the way! so sorry i hit you with my bike!’

but natsu’s jaw dropped

‘hinata,,, shoyo?’

his eyes widened and he completely forgot about the pain as he stood on his feet, pointing at the tangerine

‘OLYMPICS!’

he shouted and he was getting scared, eyes drifting to everywhere and pacing in circles

‘did i,,,, no, that doesnt happen. damn izuku wouldnt shut up about doctor who. its not possible, just not! right?!’

hinata was now panicked and thought he really messed up the guy in the head because the h/c boy was now walking in circles, murmuring angrily, and face switching expressions every millisecond

‘oh my god, i need to take you to the hospital! i messed you up!’

hinata frantically grabbed his phone but natsu jumped and grabbed the device

‘no. no, its fine. i just-,,,, i dont remember anything’

natsu played and hinata’s eyes got even wider

‘OH MY GOD I REALLY DID SOMETHING WORSE!’

but natsu placed his hands on his idol’s shoulders to calm him down

‘no hospital, no needles, no medics. just,,, call your emergency contact or something’

it was quite funny that the victim had to console the cause of the accident but hinata nonetheless complied and hit the call button

‘your mom?’

natsu asked but hinata shook his head

‘no. my team manager, l/n y/n. she’d know what to do’

but natsu’s brain exploded

‘l/n,,,, y/n?’

my ma?

oh god i really did mess up

this is going to be a whole mess and i can already feel it but yanno what? imma just go with the flow and go through with your guys’ thoughts and ideas so in a way, you can control (??) the story?? idk i really dont know what im doing but i just needed to put this into writing bc ive been thinking about it since i woke up. also, do you think i should write this in a headcanons way or normal writing way?

[jaycewrites-192000]

Growl: Ch. 11

Warnings: None

Tag List: @theravencawsatmidnight @etroman @kaariqueen

(What I write about Kyotani's dad is completely made up)

It was Saturday afternoon, meaning it was time for Kyotani's punishment. But to him, it wouldn't be as nearly as bad of a punishment since Y/n was with him. She really didn't have to be here, but she was anyway. The two got to work at cleaning, Kyotani would mop the floors while Y/n would clean the windows. "You know Ken, this is a really weird first date." Y/n chuckled as she sprayed more window cleaner on the dirty window of the gym door. Kyotani's heart fluttered at the new nick name. "Yeah? Well, guess I'll have to really make up for it huh?" He said.

"Yes you will. I'm a lady, a lady shouldn't have to clean smudged windows." Y/n said, placing her hand over her chest in a classy way. "Shame on you." Kyotani rolled his eyes. "Pardon me madam. But you could have stayed home." He countered. "And miss out on time with my boyfriend? As if. And I never said this was a bad date." She moves onto another set of windows after finishing the first. "How sweet." Kyotani smirks.

"Oh hey, I bet your mom will be thrilled to know that we're together now. She was really laying it on thick how much she wanted us to date." Kyotani paused. That was right, his mom was desperately trying to get him and Y/n together. Well, mission accomplished then. "Yeah, it's going to be so annoying to hear from here how she was right. And my sister is just gonna be a bi-a jerk about it." Kyotani caught himsef.

Y/n giggled and made her way over to him. "How about after we finish this, you take me over to your place? We can all celebrate together." Before Kyotani could give her an ok, he stopped and thought about something. "Ken?" Y/n tilts her head. "Oh, uh, not today." He muttered. Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Kyotani hesitated before answering. "My dad is visiting tonight..." Y/n blinked a few times. 'Does...he not have a good relationship with his father?' She thinks. The last time his father was brought up in conversation, he acted this was too. "Ken, do you and him...is there something going on?" She didn't exactly know how to word it other than that. "We don't hate each other, if that's what you think." He tells her.

"Then what? If you don't mind saying." She asked. Kyotani sighs and sets aside the mop he held. Y/n walked behind him and sat on the stage part of the gym. She pats the spot next to her, Kyotani walked over and sat next to her. "He left when I turned 15. My mom and him just kinda...fell apart. And they got a divorce."

"Oh. Kentaro, I'm so sorry." Y/n placed her hand on top of his. "It's fine...I mean, I don't hate either of them for it. And they don't hate each other either it's just...weird you know? He only ever comes by ever few weeks during the weekends. Other than that, I get phone calls and letters from him. He moved to another city so, we don't see each other often. So you can imagine how awkward it gets." Y/n nods as she listens. She looks down at her lap and lets out a soft sigh.

"I wish my situation was even slightly like yours." Kyotani looks at her confused. "Divorced parents too?" Y/n nods. "Yeah but...me and my father...we don't talk at all. It's rare I even get a phone call from the deadbeat." Her eyebrows furrow, and a light scowl formed on her lips. "I'm sorry." She shakes her head. "This isn't about me."

"No it's fine. I've already explained my story. Go ahead." Kyotani insists. "Ok well...He left me and my mother when I was only 10. Mom caught him cheating with some woman he worked with. And apparently, he had been a bit of a drinker before I was born. After that, he would only drink now and then but whenever he did, me and mom didn't see much of him. After my mom found about the affair, she divorced him. And I hadn't seen him since."

Y/n continued. "My father was the one with the well paying job so, after the scandal he was fired. That's when my mom started working a lot more, so we don't talk as much as we use to." By the end of the story, Y/n was crying. "I'm sorry...I haven't really talked about this so..." Kyotani wiped her tears and held her close. "It's fine, you don't have to be sorry." He said in a hushed tone. Y/n laughs weakly, trying to lighten the mood. "Wow, when did cleaning the gym turn into a therapy session?"

Kyotani chuckles lightly and stroked the back of her head. "Since now I guess." Suddenly Kyotani's phone started to buzz. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. "Speak of the fucking devil." It was his father. "He can wait." He was about to send him to voicemail before Y/n stopped him. "No it's ok. Go ahead. I'll get back to cleaning while I wait." Y/n hopped up and grabbed her cleaning supplies again. "You sure?" Kyotani asked.

"Yep!" Y/n beamed before getting back to cleaning. Kyotani looked at the screen again, sighed and then answered. "Hey dad..."

Y/n could catch small bits of the conversation. "Yeah....yep....Wait, really? Oh uh, I can't just yet....I'm at the school I uh, got into a fight so they're making me clean....I know...I know. Yeah ok, I'll be there ok? Alright bye." Kyotani sighed heavily before putting his phone away. "Looks like my dad decided to come early. Damn it said he wouldn't be here until later tonight." Y/n turns to him. "Was he upset? That you had gotten in trouble?" She asks.

"Yeah, but it's whatever. I'll just have to hear more about it later. Fuck." Kyotani leans against a wall. Y/n set aside the cleaning stuff and strides over to him. "Sorry." Kyotani looks at her. "You need to stop apologizing for things that aren't you're fault." He pets her head. "Besides, I did it for you. It's well worth the lecture." He then leans down and kisses her head softly. "Mhm." Y/n blushes brightly. Then a thought suddenly made it's self present in her head. She fiddles with her hands for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to ask this.

"Ken?" Kyotani hums. "Um...would you be opposed to me...meeting your father?" She mumbles the last part of her sentence. Kyotani eyes winded, he wasn't sure how to take that. You already met his mother and sister, so meeting his father shouldn't be such a bad idea. But, he wanted to spare her the awkwardness the night was sure to bring. "Y/n..." He says with a sigh.

Y/n shook her head. "N-nevermind. It's ok. That sounded a bit pushy, sorry." Kyotani scowled slightly. "What did I say about apologizing for things you shouldn't be sorry for?" He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes looking everywhere but her as he thinks. "Ok. You can come meet him."

"Really?" Y/n asks. "Yeah, just, don't say I didn't warn you." Y/n smiles and hugs him tightly. "Thank you Ken!" Kyotani couldn't help but smile and hug her back. "Don't mention it."

That night, Y/n were heading home with Kyotani. Unlike before, an overwhelming wave of nervousness came over her. She was actually going to be meeting his entire family this time. Before Kyotani could bring her to his home, she made a quick stop at her place to change into something more suitable. Kyotani told her it wouldn't be necessary, but she was not about to show up at his place and look a hot mess in front of his family. On the way there, she kept fiddling with heer outfit, making sure it wasn't wrinkled.

"You're nervous." Kyotani spoke up. Y/n paused her actions momentarily. "Yeah, no duh. I want to make a good impression. I know I've met your mother and sister already, but now I'm meeting your father too. And, we're dating so that makes this twice as important." She bring her hands down at her sides. "I want them to like me." Kyotani reached down and held Y/n's hand. "Come on, you're worrying over nothing. You know how much my mom likes you. And my sister does too, she just doesn't want to say."

"And as for my father, who cares if he likes you or not? I like you, that's all that matters. I wouldn't have fell in love with you, if I thought you were a shitty person. There is so much about you that I love. The way you smile, the way you laugh, you always know how to cheer me up, you make me feel loved Y/n. Not to mention you're really cute." Y/n's face turned bright red at his words, he was also a little red. "That should be enough for them. And if it's not, then screw 'em."

Y/n laugh. "That's a little mean, don't you think?" Kyotani smirked and let go of her hand, so he could snaked his arm around her waist. "Not when it comes to you." Before the two teens knew it, they had arrived at Kyotani's home. Kyotani glanced at Y/n, who was holding his hand tightly. "You ready?" He asks. Y/n nods, a determined smile on her face. "I'm ready." Kyotani knocked on the door, and waited. Shortly after, the door opened, revealing a tall man with the same buzz cut as Kyotani, only his was black and not blonde. His golden eyes, that matched Kyotani's too, fell from him to Y/n.

Assuming that was Kyotani's father, Y/n bowed her head in respect. "Nice to meet you sir." She greets him politely. "I apologize for suddenly showing up, but I thought it was time I formally met Kentaro's father." She looks back up, half expecting the same glare Kyotani had when she first met him. But instead, there was a warm and kind smile. "Ah, so this is the famous Y/n Kaori was talking about! Nice to meet you too young lady, the name's Botan." He held out his hand, Y/n smiled softly before taking it. "And just as pretty as I thought she was. Nice work son." Kyotani's dad gave his son a thumbs up.

Kyotani rolled his eyes, cheeks red. "Yeah yeah." He muttered. "Let's just go inside." Kyotani's dad lead the two in where they were greeted by Kaori and Natsuki. "Y/n! What a surprise! Come on in!" Kaori waved her hand, motioning her to come closer. "Hey." Natsuki nods at her before turning her attention back to her phone. Y/n couldn't help but wonder just what kept her glued to that thing. A boyfriend? Girlfriend? A stupidly overrated meme?

"See, didn't I tell you she was beautiful?" Kaori says to Botan. "Yep! Our son sure knows how to bag a good one!" He laughs. "You two...cut it out!" Kyotani hides his red face. 'Wow...they're so alike...' Y/n thought with an awkward smile. "Thank you for having me."

"Like I said, you're welcomed here anytime Y/n." Kaori smiles. "Now, have a seat. Dinner is almost ready. I hope you like (favorite food)!" Y/n's smile brightens. "I do, thank you so much!" It was a nice gesture, but she couldn't help but wonder just how Kaori knew that was her favorite meal. Maybe it was just insane luck? Whichever, she was excited!

"So you're really serious about my bro, huh?" Natsuki glances up at her. Y/n nods, placing her hand on Kyotani's. "I am. I intend on staying with him as long as possible." Natsuki sighs and turns her attention back to her phone. "Eh, hope you like dumbasses then, cause you're stuck with one."

"Natsuki..." Kyotani grits his teeth together. "What, it's true." Natsuki smirks. "Alright you two, no more fighting. We have a guest, we should make her feel welcomed." Botan says trying to calm the tension between the two siblings. "Oh I do feel welcomed, you guys are really the nicest family I've ever met. I'm a little jealous..." Y/n admits shyly.

"Well Y/n, you should start considering yourself part of the family now. Anyone who is willing to date our hot headed son, is family. Especially when they're so polite!" Kaori adds. "Now, who's ready for dinner?"

Y/n felt her chest fill with warmth, she hadn't felt this way in a long time. She had found herself a loving boyfriend, who loves her just as much as she loves him, and to top it all off, his family was so welcoming. It really felt like she was accepted into their lives as one of them. Who knows, maybe one day she really will become part of the family, if Kyotani decides to pop that oh so pretty question, and gives her his last name.

Until then, she was happy with what was right in front of her. And she didn't plan on letting go anytime soon.

Previous | Next

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (Part 10)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, mentions of trauma

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

A week passed by in no time and most of it was spent in bed for Daphne as she recovered. Her wounds and bruises were healing nicely and she could walk without feeling like she was about to keel over. She needed the rest though with the amount of blood she lost. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Matt or his alter ego but Foggy stopped by every day to bring her food for dinner. Surprisingly, she wasn't sick of him yet and he insisted it was all part of the friendship package. She appreciated it since she hadn't felt up to cooking. It was all home cooked stuff and she had no idea if he'd cooked it himself or someone else had. Either way it was good. He'd come over and hang out with her while they ate and just make idle conversation. But as the week wore on she was getting increasingly stressed about the fact that Mr Lee's son hadn't been caught yet. Foggy had commented on her waning patience but she couldn't help it. 

She was lounging in bed in a pair of yoga pants and the t-shirt Matt had loaned her. She didn't know why it was so soft but she liked it and he hadn't asked for it back. As far as she was concerned, it now belonged to her. She was getting restless. Between the maniac not being caught and her being cooped up to recover, she'd gotten bored. She couldn't wait to go back out and do something. She hadn't told Foggy about her nightmares about the attack. She had them every night and she wasn't getting much sleep. She had too much pride to admit how much the ordeal had shaken her. Seeing a dead body and being brutally attacked like that had done a number on her confidence. She couldn't get the images of Mr Lee's lifeless body out of her mind or forget how it felt when her air supply was being cut off. She'd often wake gasping for breath and unable to breathe. She hoped it would ease in time. 

Her phone rang from the nightstand and she groaned, rolling over to get it. Glancing at the screen she saw it was Brett. He’d called her every day and it was always that same; 'Sorry, D, nothing today. We'll keep trying.' She appreciated it and Brett seemed dead set on nailing the bastard. But he had somehow just vanished into thin air and she hated it.

"Hey," she sighed into the phone.

"Got some good news," she could practically hear his grin and she sat up quickly. She winced at the pinching feeling of her stitches but it didn't hurt too much. She was glad her body was starting to heal.

"Please tell me you got him," she pleaded hopefully. 

"Not us. Asshole is currently comatose in hospital. Daredevil found him. Really got him good too. I know you worked with him a bit, you must've left quite the impression on him. If this little prick is anything to go by, the Devil was pissed," he chuckled. 

She blinked dumbly for a moment as his words soaked in. Matt had found him. And beat him into a coma. Her brain wasn't quite comprehending it. Why would he go out of his way like that? Then again, the guy was crazy and a danger and most definitely a criminal. Of course the Devil of Hell's Kitchen would hand his ass to him.

"I'm glad, got what he deserved," she bit out. She really hoped he'd suffered.

"Damn right. Next time you see your horned friend, make sure you thank him for his hard work," he laughed. She snorted wondering how he had no idea how he interacted with the Devil almost on a daily basis. 

"I will. What happens now?" She asked, nibbling her lower lip.

"He's got guards here for when he wakes up. When he does, we book him. We got stacks of evidence against him and Mr Lee's wife folded too. She's going to testify for a reduced sentence for her part in all of this… you did good, D. Without your help this might not have been solved," he said sincerely. 

She sighed, leaning back against her pillows.

"Yeah, maybe," she murmured. She knew there was some truth to his words. Just like Matt said, this would have happened no matter what. No matter if she'd warned Mr Lee or even if she'd never met him at all. She knew she helped get him justice. Yet she still felt that guilt burrowing in her mind.

"Alright. I gotta go, but I'll keep you posted if anything happens," he said.

"Thanks, Brett," she smiled softly. She felt a huge relief that he'd been caught now. He'd finally get punished for what he did. Part of her wished that the nightmares would end now. 

"Hey, don't thank me. Thank your boy, Daredevil," he chuckled. 

"Yeah, yeah. I will," she rolled her eyes goodnaturedly before hanging up. 

Part of her wanted to see Mr Lee's son. See the damage Matt had done. Maybe it was sadistic of her but she couldn't help it after what he'd put her through. She wondered how it went down. Did Matt look for him or was it by chance? And why did Brett seem so shocked by how badly he'd beaten the maniac? Brett saw plenty of the thugs Matt dealt with but he acted like this was worse. 

Glancing to her large window, she saw the moon filtering in a little. She pushed herself off the bed, sitting on the window ledge as she opened it slightly. 

"You around?" She asked seemingly to no one. She was curious if he'd hear her. She had no idea what range his hearing was or if he was even out and about right now. For all she knew he was fast asleep in bed. But she should have known better. Of course there was no rest for the wicked. Or the righteous in his case. He jumped down and landed on her fire escape with such grace it almost shocked her.

"In the neighbourhood," he smirked. He seemed a lot more himself than the solemn gentleness he'd shown her when she was injured. Part of her missed it, the other part was grateful so it wasn't weird.

"Heard you found Mr Lee's son. Nice work," she flashed him a toothy grin. She'd be a liar if she said she didn't feel heaps better now. Knowing he was caught, that Matt had given him a taste of his own medicine first. It made her perk up. He chuckled, crossing his arms as he leant back on the railings.

"I did. I think he'll be eating out of a straw for a while," he quipped. 

"Brett seemed to think you were angrier than usual this time. I didn't even think that was possible," she said, leaning against the window a little. 

He chuckled, lowering his head before licking his lower lip.

"Yeah well… I found it hard to hold back," he admitted. She wanted to press on but decided against it. Better not to look into it and go on like normal. Acquaintances at best. Not friends that look out for each other. 

"Foggy's been keeping me company everyday. Been bringing me food.  I didn't know he could cook so well," making small talk with him felt weird but she'd thanked him and now she didn't know how to end the conversation without being completely rude. She owed him that at least for taking care of the asshole who attacked her.

"Foggy can't cook worth shit," he snorted, looking off at the distance. 

"Who’s food have I been eating then?" She asked bewildered.

"Mine," be smirked devilishly at her. It suited him in that moment as his suit was bathed in moonlight. 

She blinked for a moment as his words soaked in. Her first thought was how she was impressed he could cook so well without sight. But then she remembered who he was and it paled in comparison to the other shit he could do. Then she was just confused why he'd been cooking for her. She opened her mouth to ask him but he stood up straighter, head tilted as he did the weird listening thing again.

"Gotta go," he flashed her another smirk and with that he was off. She wondered if the more cocky side of his personality was tied to the suit or if it was just him. She settled on figuring he'd been cooking for him and Foggy anyway so she got some too. It was best not to touch anything that meant he was looking out for her. It was weird. 

 She closed the window and padded back to her bed, getting under the covers with a sigh. Her life had changed quite a bit since meeting the lawyers even if she hadn't known them long. Foggy was actually a breath of fresh air for her. He was always so optimistic but also wouldn't hold back if it was needed. He genuinely was a good friend and the first real friend she'd ever had. Matt on the other had confused her. He was either rude, cocky and snarky, granted most of the time it was in response to her own bitchiness, or he was gentle, protective, and saving her ass. The unpredictability was what bothered her. Never knowing what was going on in his head. She remembered what Foggy said about them clashing because they were alike. Unpredictable was a word used many times to describe her. Maybe her issue with the vigilante was because it was like looking into a mirror. The thought jarred her. 

When he was nice, she found she enjoyed his company. And she couldn't say he didn't intrigue her. He really did. Everything from his lack of sight to his extra curricular activities had her curious. But being around him always left her head spinning and her back up. She blew out a breath, deciding she was thinking far too much about Matt and it needed to stop. Once this whole him avenging her bullshit eased off maybe he'd just not drop by anymore. Maybe it would go back to normal. 

The next day she spent most of the day getting her PI stuff ready. Checking and double checking her backpack and testing her camera. She was buzzing with excitement that she was going to investigate. She hadn't since the attack. She’d barely left the house. She felt good about jumping right back into it. It was the surveillance job for the Italian Brett had assigned her before everything went down. She needed to scout him out, see where he went and who with. It was simple and easy, well if it went according to plan. So she was feeling more cheerful than she had in a while. 

As usual, she liked to wait until it was going dark before she went out. She'd dressed in her dark clothes, a pullover hoodie, jeans and her boots. The boots that she'd had to scrub clean in the bath after they got blood all over them. She couldn't exactly afford more. Her hair was in two French braids so she could easily pull her hood up to conceal her face when needed. Her backpack was on the coffee table along with her camera and she couldn't help checking if the memory card worked every five minutes. A knock on her door made her eyes widen. Fuck, Foggy. She'd forgotten to even let him know she'd be going out and he'd be bringing her dinner as usual. Maybe he'd understand she had things to do. 

She swung open the door and Foggy gave her a toothy grin, holding up the bag that she now knew held Matts home cooked food. She was still perplexed by the notion but pushed it out of her mind. When Foggy saw her clothes, his eyes darted over her shoulder to her backpack and camera on the coffee table.

"Oh… you're off out?" He asked, trying to hide his disappointment and failing. She felt a pang in her chest.

"Yeah. Gotta get back on the horse sometime," she nodded feeling more than awkward. Foggy pursed his lips before forcing a smile as he nodded at her.

"Yeah… that's… good. I'll uh… I can just…" he backed up a few steps to leave and the pang of guilt got bigger. Damn it all to hell, this is why she didn't do friends. 

He looked so disappointed and if she was honest with herself she knew she'd miss their usual friendly dinner herself. She'd been enjoying the companionship and she'd started to get used to not being so alone. Only Foggy Nelson could put a chip in her thick armour. 

"Foggy, wait… it's fine. I could use some dinner before I head out," she smiled softly at him. Almost hesitant at this weird and new situation she found herself in. He looked surprised for a moment before a grin split his face. It was still weird to her that he wanted to be around her. Wanted to be her friend. 

"Awesome! It's lasagna today, it's so good," he beamed as he came inside. 

He navigated her kitchen with ease as he plated their food up for them both. That was the routine and it was always weird to watch him in her kitchen like he lived there but she surprisingly never minded it. He came into the living room, passing her a plate where she sat on the couch and he took his usual spot in the armchair. He started munching with gusto and she pushed some of the food around with her fork for a moment as she glanced at him. Never once had he mentioned Matt when he came here and he'd always made it seem like he himself had cooked the food. He'd never outright said it, no doubt since it would be a bare faced lie. But he'd implied it. 

"Matt dropped in last night," she murmured casually, popping a forkful of lasagna into her mouth. Matt was a dick but the man could cook. It was amazing.

"Oh, yeah. He told me, about the whole crazy dick turned coma patient,” he snorted as he scarfed his food down.

"Mhm… he's a great cook, don't you think?" She asked slyly. Foggy started choking on his mouthful of food and she couldn't even suppress the smirk that worked its way into her face. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Foggy struggled with the food that seemed lodged in his throat.

"He told me, Foggy. I complimented your cooking skills and he told me you can't cook worth shit. He decided to let me know he'd been the one cooking before he slipped off into the night like a goddamn movie villain," she snorted. 

"Fine! You got me, the jig is up!" He proclaimed, rather dramatically too if she had to say so. It made her laugh.

"Is there a reason you lied?" She asked with an amused look on her face. He squinted and pointed his fork at her.

"I didn't lie. I never once said I made it. I may have misled you but at no time did I lie," he pressed. Such a lawyer. She rolled her eyes at him with a snort.

"Honestly … me and Matt didn't think you'd eat it if you knew, so I decided to just… not tell you," he shrugged. His throat seemed to be faring better now as he started eating again.

"You really think I'm that petty?" She scoffed. He raised a brow at her before they both burst out laughing. They both knew she was.

"How are you holding up anyway? Feel better now that asshole's been caught?" Foggy asked once they calmed down.

"Yeah. I was starting to give up honestly. It's nice to know he's gonna get what's coming to him. Well… he already kinda has," she smirked as she remembered what Brett said.

"Tell me about it. I was with Brett when he got a call about Keiran at the hospital. I went with him and just… wow," he muttered as he shook his head.

"How bad was he?" She asked curiously. She couldn't even contain the happiness from her voice and he shot her a look. Asshole deserved it though.

"Really bad. I've seen some of the people after Matt’s done with them, but this guy. Ouch. The thing is though… I didn't even feel bad for him. Knowing what he did, seeing what he did to you… I'm not surprised Matt went hard at him," he said carefully. 

"I'm honestly surprised. I mean, sure Daredevil catches bad guys and kinda kicks their ass. And I've heard some wild stories about him. But the dude’s in a coma and Brett wasn't sure when he'd wake up. Didn't think Matt would care so much about Mr Lee. He didn't even know him," she murmured, standing up with her now empty plate. She took Foggy's too and padded into the kitchen. It was getting late now and she still had to go out and investigate. 

"Matt cares about everyone in this city, whether he's met them or not. And he also really really cares about his friends. He doesn't take too kindly to people attacking them," he responded pointedly from where he sat. 

She pursed her lips, plonking the dishes in the sink before turning around. She leant back on the counter and tilted her head at him.

"Bold of you to assume me and Matt are friends," she teased. Foggy just squinted at her as he stood up.

"Well whatever you are, he didn't like that asshole laying his hands on you. Or his knife. So…" he shrugged. She wanted to make a comment. Something about how she didn't need Matt’s protection and they really weren't friends. Acquaintances at most and even that was pushing it. But deep down she knew that Keiran wouldn't have been caught if it wasn't for Daredevil and she tried to push her snark away 

"I really need to head out before it's too late," she sighed, glancing to the darkening sky. Foggy sighed with a nod.

"Anything exciting? Nothing dangerous I hope," he frowned. When Foggy seemed to care she didn't mind it. 

"Just surveillance. It's on the Italian that the other one ratted out. He's not a major player but he might lead the cops to one. Brett's given me strict instructions to keep my distance and just observe," she explained, grabbing her backpack. She slung it over her shoulders and then put her camera around her neck.

"Okay… good. That sounds not too life threatening. It means I won't lose sleep," he grinned. She flipped him off with a roll of her eyes. He reminded her of her sister a bit, the way he fussed over her. Maybe that's why she liked him so much.

They left the apartment together and when they got outside they would be going opposite ways.

"Alright. Stay safe, make sure you listen to Brett about keeping your distance. If you need help… well just scream, I'm sure Matt will hear you," he chuckled. 

"Yes, mom," she smirked. He blanched before pouting at her. Before she had a chance to say anything else, he gave her a quick hug. That was another new thing she had to adjust to. He always left with a hug. They were always brief and she wondered if it was because he knew this was new to her and she needed to adjust. Either way she found she liked it. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled at her. She gave him a mock salute, making him chuckle before she started walking down the street.

Hours went by as she followed Mr Antonio Ricci. He was a big looking dude but he was wearing an expensive looking suit. He'd just been walking through town, visiting shops here and there as he went before closing time. She was following from the other side of the street, her hood pulled up as she discreetly took pictures of every store he went in. She was itching to go in and see just what he was doing. He never came out with anything so he certainly wasn't buying. But she knew she had to keep her distance. She took her job seriously and also her body wasn't 100% yet. She was mostly okay but she didn't feel like getting jumped would be a good idea. Even the thought of it made her stomach clench. She was still dealing with the mental after effects of her last attack. 

After a while, he seemed to meet up with a pretty brunette. She was dressed in a gold dress that wrapped around her like it was liquid. She was breathtaking honestly and Daphne made sure to snap some pictures of her not knowing if she was important or not. She ended up following them as they took a stroll. They were laughing and holding hands, stopping every now and again to kiss. It was sickening. They ended up going inside a restaurant and she pouted knowing she couldn't go in. Not only would that mean possibly blowing her cover, but she wouldn't even be allowed in a fancy place like that with how she was dressed. So now she was across the street, lurking in the mouth of an alley as she waited bored for them to come back out. She had no idea when they'd be done.

"You look like you're working hard," she whipped around at the quip, rolling her eyes as Daredevil was perched on the dumpster. He hopped down like a graceful cat before sauntering closer to her. 

"Just waiting for my mark to leave," she sighed, sounding as bored as she felt, gesturing with her head to the restaurant across the street. He seemed like he looked over at it despite having no point to.

"What are you doing here anyway?" She asked briskly. 

"I was around. Thought I'd check you weren't in danger," he snarked, causing her eyes to narrow to slits.

"Hm.. funny how you keep being 'around'. Anyone would think you're following me," she bit out, turning her back to him to keep an eye out for Antonio. 

"Please, you're not that special," he scoffed. 

She pursed her lips as she waited but she was getting agitated. It wasn't helped by Daredevil hovering around. She glanced back to him then and grinned as an idea formed in her mind. One that would help her and then she could go home and far away from him. 

"Meet me on that roof," she said, not waiting for an answer as she left the alley they were in and jogged across the street. She walked in the alley beside the restaurant and started climbing the fire escape, waiting as Matt made his stealthy way over. Before long, he'd jumped across to the building she was on and made his way over.

"What are we-" he started, irritation in his voice. She shushed him and it only seemed to make him more agitated, his fists clenching as his jaw ticked.

"Sit down," she demanded, sitting on the roof with her legs cross. He just started in her direction for a moment before a low growl left his lips, heavily sitting down in front of her.

"I've got better things to do than play whatever this game is with you," he huffed. 

"Maybe pulling that stick out of your ass should be number one on the list," she quipped dryly, shrugging off her backpack.

"Daphne," he warned, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Look, I just need your help for a sec and then you can get back on your white knight bullshit and I can go home. Chill," she huffed. She uncrossed one of her legs as she unzipped her pack and grabbed the pen and pad from inside.

"Fine, what do you want?" He bit out reluctantly. Her lips quirked up before glancing at him.

"We're on the roof of the restaurant. I need you to use your spidey senses, listen in for me," she requested. She could feel his glower through the mask and she smirked slyly.

"Anything in particular?" He asked tensely. He was always tense. Especially when he was in this suit. 

"The guy is Antonio. See if you can hone in on him and the girl he's with. Anything about what he's been doing today, about the Italians or even about her. I don't know who she is. Just whatever seems interesting," she said clicking her pen ready. She watched him intently as he tilted his head and she wondered what it was like being him. What it must be like to lose his sight but then have all his others senses heightened to this degree. She didn't know if it would be a blessing or a curse. Possibly both. She was patient, letting him sort through the many people in there until he found what they were looking for. 

"Her name is Bianca, they're on a date," he murmured, sounding far away and distracted. She suppressed the urge to throw a 'duh' at him about the date comment and instead scribbled her name. 

"He’s… he's being vague but it sounds like he's been collecting money from shop owners. He called it protection money," she jotted down Matt’s words and wondered what that meant. Protection from other gangs or their own.

"There's a meeting. Next Friday night. The Italians and the Chinese are meeting at the Yellow Lilly," he muttered. 

"Wow, this guy doesn't know what discrete means," she snorted quietly as she wrote it all down. She’d honestly expected nothing more than the girl's name but Antonio didn't seem to know when to keep his mouth shut. Anyone could be listening in. 

She watched Matt as he started to look frustrated before he sighed, his head no longer tilted.

"It's uh… all I got," he sounded annoyed but more so at himself.

"Wow, super senses not what they used to be, huh?" She teased, stuffing her pad and pen back in her bag.

"Yeah well, it's kind of hard to focus with a concussion," he hissed. She blinked at him for a moment as his lips clamped shut, jaw ticking once more. Why did she feel a little bad about that? She hadn't even thought about the possibility of him being injured despite his nightly job. She sucked her lower lip a little before letting it pop back out of her teeth.

"This is fine anyway. More than I thought," she murmured, trying to be somewhat amicable about it. He lowered his head and nodded. 

She stood up and he followed suit, a silence hanging between them as it always did when they didn't know what to say. Whenever something presented itself that made them cease fire on their words, it seemed like they didn't know how to act around each other.

"Well… thanks for the help, Devilboy. I'm gonna head home and catch some z's," she said awkwardly as they stood at the edge near the fire escape. A shrill scream in the alley below them caught them both off guard.  They glanced over the wall of the roof to see an older woman clinging to her bag as some dude was trying to grab it. She wasn't surprised when Matt climbed his way down and started kicking his ass.

She wished she had popcorn for the show. It was impressive, especially from her vantage point. It didn't take long for Matt to knock out the thug but then the woman grabbed her purse and ran off. It struck her as a little rude and now he wouldn't even be able to call it in to the cops. If she was in the wind there was nothing they could do about the mugging. She watched with complete amusement as Matt picked up the unconscious man and tossed him in the dumpster. She snorted, wishing she would be there when he woke up.

Instead of using the stairs back up, Matt swung and climbed his way up with ease and she partly wondered if he just liked showing off. He was panting a little when he got back to her and leaned back to sit on the small ledge of the roof.

"Well that was rude," she commented amused.

"Really? It's only a dumpster, I didn't peg you as the kind of person who'd be upset by that," he scoffed. She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms.

"Not that. That was fucking hilarious. I'm on about the woman. No thank you, nothing. Just runs off like you didn't save her ass," she mused, glancing to where the woman had ran off. 

"Yeah well… it's a thankless job," he shrugged. He didn't sound bothered at all and she wondered if that's how it normally went. He had some patience, except with her it seemed. She’d honestly think of charging people if she was super powered and fighting crime.

"Thanks for the show, it's been fun. I'm gonna head out," she drawled, securing her backpack better before stepping onto the fire escape.

"I'll walk you back," he said instantly. She looked back at him, her face scrunched up slightly.

"I'll be fine. I'm not a damsel, remember? You go save some other poor saps, I don't need a bodyguard," she quipped hotly. His jaw did the tick thing again but he didn't say anything. She was glad he didn't argue or that he didn't follow her as she descended the stairs of the fire escape. 

She was pleased with the info she'd gotten, even if Matt had to help her to get it. She refused to acknowledge what Foggy had said about them possibly being a good team. She’d hand over what she knew to Brett and see what he wanted her to do next. She walked home in the darkness feeling satisfied she was back to being herself, unaware of the shadow following her from the rooftops and keeping a watchful eye. 

[sunset-novice-writer]

Pinky Promises

Dedicated to: @blackgirlanimes

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I urge guys to please go check out her blog. Her writing is amazing, and Merch is my favorite series by her. Plus, I wanted to give something back since she works hard on filling requests. I feel that writers sometimes need to have time to enjoy reading things too. (No matter how much I sort of cringe at my writing. Lol ^-^;)

This is my first official post to my Novice Writing blog. Whatever happens, I put this out there. As the saying goes, “Practice  shows your effort.” Well, it's just a piece I got inspired by original songs I listened to too. Although the last bit at the end with some lyrics I came up with.

Hope you enjoy the writing of the unedited version. Let me know if you guys want a part two. I apologize in advance if anyone seems OOC it’s unbeta’d while it will be re-edited sometime later.

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Summary: Leaving to visit your birth parents in America was something exciting and sad for you because there was one person you would miss more than anything. An explosive blonde with harsh words though hiding behind what he really feels. You make a promise to return to him without fail in a year, and somehow you find yourself surprised instead.

Is it possible for you to make up after an argument leaves things up in the air ?

Contains: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem! Reader

Setting: |AU Modern |

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[ Scattered Pieces ] Part One

 There you were sitting on the steps of your house you’d dreaded this day for months. While listening to your music, the song of somber feelings made you blink your eyes to stop the tears from falling. Everything around you would be all but a vision of something so far away, that left you wanting to take in the view of cloudy weather.

The light shower of rain curled your hair a little, causing you to give a brief smile. A time for reminiscing is something that came naturally during a crucial moment like this. Still, what awaited on the other side of the country was a chance to learn about the family who gave you up. Maybe hope to leave the resentful feelings of being tossed away to give you some closure, or the real understanding of why you give up for adoption clearer.

One thing seemed to cross your mind all time leading up to the days of the departure. A certain explosive little porcupine that wouldn’t take the news well of you disappearing on him. 

Bakugou Katsuki…

First of many things that troubled you, the hurt he masked into dismissal with the egotistical nonchalant attitude you’d admired. During that moment you couldn’t stand him when he acted the way he did about you leaving for a year.  Then again, you found it annoying at the same time how his temper blew up like a grenade. Only leaving a reminder of the wreckage his words left you still fresh in your mind to ruin.

“See if I care, dumbass! Go on, back where you came from and let them abandon you again!”

It was almost as if you could hear the words echoing in your mind from that incident.As if it were happening once more which you felt nothing next to numb. All except the pain that etched on your face returned while you blinked your eyes to stop the tears. Beyond the surface it wasn’t like you wanted to leave, still this was your chance to find your own answers of your past.

Your lips trembled cursing at yourself for letting the tears slip away he knew that was something hurtful. All the fears of going to meet the parents who wanted to meet you made you second guess how to approach them. The only action you did toward his comment turned around shaking your head at him not letting words fall from your lips. Instead was nothing that left your lips as you remember staying still.  Thinking back on it, somehow you doubt even now he would come to see you off something inside you was fine with it.

How dumb were you like these getting angry after the fact when the moment is over?

 Whatever the case you were glad that you had said nothing during that moment, as your hand moved to wipe the tears from eyes you took a deep breath.   Whenever you faced your biological parents face to face you would deal with what came your way whether it be disappointing, or happy at least you’d get some answers. 

After all your parents wanted you to know where you came from while taking you to explain everything when they told you the truth.Something that you would be grateful for sure you could’ve been angry about them keeping this enormous secret. Yet. you knew your parents  worried about things you couldn’t understand as a child. Even if neither one of them had a connection by blood to you. 

You couldn’t help to be happy beyond words, you could express that  you got a life full of love, and sadly most kids like you don’t have time to experience. Reality of your situation, you got to have a home with these wonderful people though sometimes you felt a disconnect when you saw other of your peers with the parents.it was your adopted parents. Still, the days passed continuously since your encounter with Katsuki. You felt happy that at least despite the harsh words he left you with you.

“Maybe it’s better that I didn’t say everything I wanted.” You stated with resolve, your eyes would express another story of regret before you pinched your right cheek to snap you out of it. Your mopy thoughts needed to take a back seat. You wanted to face your actual parents, to ask everything you felt. In the back of your mind, you wanted to have his support behind you. 

You want to move forward to well really to get there then you plan to do next. Placing Bakugou at the back of your mind would be the best thing you could do for right now.

That would be fine, you could handle it, nothing would get in the way. Especially not the explosive blonde you were probably throwing himself into a distraction to avoid thinking of you. They had made sure they packed the luggage into the car the night before and learned that your father wanted to take a later flight instead of the current one.

Sweet little broccoli is calling you~ Never knew a broccoli could blush like a tomato, like a tomatoo--Oh yeah! I love you my sweetpea fresh like chili broccoli..~

A brief buzz came from your pocket causing you to let laughter burst from your mouth. You saved this as Izuku’s ringtone, much to his flustered expression every time he heard it with an embarrassment covering his face. You didn’t think it was that bad besides you worked on creating something like this for his Mom. An early mother’s day gift, so she wanted a ringtone that fitted her beloved son. So you helped him with it much how he was shy singing it, but you did it with him. At least you could find your spirits lifting a fraction. Before you answered the call you went to work on calming down your giggles first.

“Hey, Izuku. What’s up?”You questioned, you wondered why he called suddenly out of the blue like this, yet it was nice to talk to someone either way.Still, you heard him speak on the other of the line.

“Hey, [Name] is everything all right?” Midoriya's tone was curious, as if he was trying to figure more than she’d let on. Then you as if something told he wanted to talk about something else. He was very observant, though the thoughts of your conversation with Katsuki crawled back up, but you wanted to avoid it. 

“Mhm, I’m all right, Izuku.” Your voice relaxed, giving a bit of a chuckle that escaped your lips. In the event to stop him from trying to read too much in to what you wanted to hide.You smiled thinking of your trip besides you knew your doubts and worries came out of nervousness to be honest. 

“I’m ready to face my biological parents--to get the answers to my questions.” You continued there was a bite of bitterness in your voice which he caught.  

Why did you let that tiny swirling frustration come out of you now?

“[Name], is it really about that or is it about Kacchan..?” Izuku asked, his voice cut through your voice caught in your throat when he mentioned him. Now, you stammered with your own reply.

“N-No, it's not about Bakugou.” Damn it. You cursed you weren’t trying to sound stumble with Midoriya though he knew Katsuki just and you. Yet, you wondered what he knew about his outburst, though you didn’t want to go into it.

At your obvious lie, all you heard on the other sigh of the phone was him sighing at your stubbornness. What else could you say about the subject? He knew about what transpired, though you were sure where he learned it from. Either way, you didn’t see a point in just putting it behind a shade so you came clean.

“He’ll come around as hot-headed as Katsuki is.” Midoriya said while pausing for a moment. Still, you couldn’t help but agree with him. “I know he will see you off—He will miss you everyone will [Name].” He replied, you would miss him along with all your friends.

Hoping was all you could do for the moment was that Bakugou came through to say goodbye on better terms. A negative thought was lingering inside your head like a deathly plague he might not. When trying to predict his moods like was trying to disarm a ticking time bomb even though you knew he had moments of caring. It was just obscured by the rough edges of his personality, though you saw it more than most.

“I will take your word for it,Izuku.I just hope to see him one more time...” You smiled lightly, while conversing a little more with Midoriya longer before ending the call. Drifting further away from your persistent thoughts that resurfaced, you got saved from them. Your parents returned home with some takeout from your favorite place while you saw their car pull in the driveway. 

All your unease that made you restless to hear from one person disappeared. You wanted to at least hear his voice say his common catch phrase, or the fear you held made you more concerned to call him.

You stopped up at your front door to glance down at your iPhone, glancing at the screen saver you stored secretly. It was Bakugou Katsuki in his usual stance, though he sported a splash of color dusting his face a bright pink. His scowl was clear while crimson eyes held his glare with your arms wrapped around his waist. What happened that day made your smile return, though suddenly it dimmed altogether once more.

A confession that would stay hidden with which you want to tell him. A single tear fell from your eye that splashed on the screen of your phone. You bit back the sobs that wanted to escape your throat, deciding it would be better to compose yourself. You didn’t want your folks to make a fuss about why you felt sad moment.  You wanted to just forget and enjoy their company.  While that faint melody of the song you were playing echoed its somber words when you entered your house.

Let you hear the words I want to say…

Before I disappear never again to see your face…

I love with the confession of my feelings seemed to go unanswered.

Yet, they linger only for you..

Something that when unnoticed just outside your gate was the very boy you were thinking of now. He contemplated going to your door before growling in frustration turning on his heel walking back to his home.

“Damn it...” Katsuki wasn’t sure how he’d apologize to you that didn’t stop the prickling feeling that stabbed his chest. Your sobs only dug it deeply into how his words cut you. This whole situation was shitty to him you leaving hating to admit he would miss a lot than he expressed. He didn’t want to lose you even if it was to get your answers he wished to find those shitty parents of yours to tell them that. They shouldn’t have given someone like you up even if it was for a beneficial thing for you, yet it is a grateful feeling that he met you because of it.

At least that Deku told him when you’d be departing, so he’d make sure you’d come back. A promise he wanted to deliver before you went halfway across the country to get your answers..

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I can’t believe that I finished this at 2:37 AM. Hope everyone enjoys this blurb.  All that to see if you all want to see a Part Two. I’ll probably work on making masterlist sometime tomorrow.

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

FE3H: Felix x Reader {Territorial}

Premise: This war won’t take another thing from Felix, at least not on his own soil. 

Part: (1/2) {Next} 

Warning: Angst, Loss, et cetera.

Note: Thank you to whoever commented that they could not see the fic. Tumblr’s formatting deleted it when I corrected some tags, and I never would have known. 

Nothing chased away warmth like a Fargeus snowstorm. Every gust of wind whipped each target with fervor, leaving behind red frost-bitten tattoos in their wake. It was a soldier’s worst nightmare, but only if they were unprepared. For the country’s citizens it was their greatest weapon. To be victorious, one must know the elements. They must know how to turn the world against their enemies. This was their playing field, and the grave of all those who dared to challenge.

 Felix was a Fraldarious. He knew these grounds like the back of his hand and took pride in his strength. On neutral territory he was already a force to be reckoned with, but here? Here he was a storm. Here his sword acts as the finishing blow to the havoc his homeland is known for. Here he is unchallenged, until confidence cannot act as the deciding wager.

 The enemy had come prepared this time around; heavy gear to battle the storm in addition to reinforced weaponry. The Empress was no fool and had cornered his troops within their own domain. He should have expected as much from someone who had the opportunity to study his land, and ignorance would to be his downfall. At the beginning of the battle there were hundreds amidst his battalion. Each a strong solider personally appointed to his care by the Professor, and it was their duty to clear a path for the rest of the incoming army. He was to lead them, and he failed. Not one remained, and now he was out of options. If he didn’t think fast, then the next troop would-

 ‘Shit’

 He bit down on his lip, holding back the curses bubbling at his throat. A sniper almost caught him off guard, but with a blast of thoron he countered. For what felt like hours he had been slowly picking off the Empire’s soldiers, but that wasn’t good enough. If he didn’t hurry the next troop would be decimated. Her troop. Felix couldn’t let that happen, not when they were so close to victory. With new resolve he unsheathed his sword, stepped over the body of his latest victim, and began to advance towards the advancing enemy.

 “So, the pest finally decides to show himself,” Hubert. At one time Felix found him a worthy opponent. Despite his disturbing habits the man was strong, he’d give him that. With him was at least twenty other soldiers only counting those not camouflaged by snow.

 “Shut up,” Felix gave no time to talk. Quickly, he casted meteor in hopes of temporarily disbursing the others and made haste to Hubert. In attempt catch him off balance Felix swiped at his legs but was pushed back with Nosfuratu. It singed his clothes, yet he easily ignored the cold biting his exposed flesh. Another perk of fighting on familiar territory.

 Hubert followed up with a bolganone and Felix quickly rolled away. From the side another swordsman tried to jump him, and he sliced off their forearm without blinking. Time was slimming. In the distance he noticed a smoke signal and swiftly aimed a fire spell at the snow. Quick thinking indeed.

 A heavy mist temporarily overtook the area. Hubert was a mage, and therefore he would need magic to fight. Reason spells create light. Felix has his sword, and now had the advantage.

 ‘You’re mine’

 With Hubert on the defensive he took the chance to nock out the lesser nuisances. An archer, a priest, a mage, knight, swordsmen; he may not be a rouge but damn he fit the role. As the wind picked up again the mist began to fade. More voices entered the area as shouts of challenge echoed.

There wasn’t time to see if they were friend or foe. Not with the thunder that barely missed his head.

 “Who’s hiding now?!” He shouted and launched his own. Hubert merely grunted in disgust before raising his arm to cast another spell.

 “I am no coward, merely an opportunist,” Before Felix could even feel confused, someone slammed into him. The impact caused his sword to fly somewhere off into the snow, and the air was so thick that even his discerned eye couldn’t find it. In a moment of relapse his attacker wrestled him to the ground. The voices from before grew closer, almost deafening. Ignoring Hubert, he moved briefly to snap the neck of the solider on top of him. A fatal mistake.

 As the decoy fell breathless, a spark of light grew closer. So near that the conduction ripped a path through the snow.

 So close, that static tingled his cheeks as his life crumbled before him.

 “NO!” His scream tore through the valley. Within that moment more warriors tore through the field at his sides. The next troop had arrived earlier than expected, and he failed to disengage the enemy. Hubert pulled back at the cry for their fallen captain, and so the battle raged on further. For a moment Felix stilled and wondered how far the next platoon was. He could still fight but-no.

 He crouched to the ground and maneuvered the body at his feet to rest in his arms. She hadn’t made a sound. No cry of pain, no warning; maybe she did and the wind silenced it. All Felix knew was that she bought him time, and he wasn’t going to leave her here.

 “You fool…” he removed his glove and reached two fingers to the crevice of her neck. At first, he felt nothing. Anger and mourning both swelled in his chest as his brows grew taught. A moment passed, yet his hand remained. Another. The cold began to set in. Another, and as he moved to pull away a faint pulse thumped against his fingertips. That was all he needed.

 Felix hoisted her into his arms and ran into the forest. This was his land. As a child he’d travel around with his father and brother, so much that he could pull out mental maps of Fargeus territory like nothing. Battle tactics and formations were drilled into him since the moment he could wield a sword. He was a solider trained to protect his home, and now his home would protect him.  As he waddled through the snow the woman in his arms trembled. He pulled her closer to himself, yet it persisted.

 ‘It’s here somewhere. I know it- there,’ His eyes squinted against the harsh blizzard until a slab of grey appeared in the distance. Then he was sprinting with snow kicking up in his wake to cover his tracks. The blurry grey soon formed the image of rock, and within that rock was a crevice big enough to fit a single person. With the storm raging on it was barely noticeable, but this is what he needed. Felix shifted the unconscious girl to a standing position and hugged her close. Carefully he hoisted her to hover above the ground and cradled the back of her head as he began to slide between the rock. It was a tight fit for two, but soon the walls began to expand until they were inside a small cavern. Erosion had done the space justice by leaving enough room for them to barely fit.

 During his childhood Sylvain had discovered the secret cavern. Whenever they’d play near the area it was their hiding spot, and no matter how hard his father tried the two would never be found. Eventually visits to the woods became scarce since Margrave Gautier grew angry with his son’s tricks. The place was then forgotten as they grew older; until now.

 “Felix?” her voice startled him. With haste he removed his outer layer and laid it on the ground, before settling her batter body on top of it.

 “Oi! Can you hear me?” no answer. Her eyes were half open, glazed, and unfocused. He lit a spark of fire within his palm for light and held up two fingers with his other.

 “(Y/N), how many fingers am I holding?” her head lolled against the hard surface like that of a newborn child, “Dammit try and focus. How many fingers?” Her breath remained labored and his chest ached.

 “S-six,”

 ‘Crap. What now?’  Not a good sign. Felix didn’t know the first thing about faith magic, and now he wished he’d taken Mercedes’ class. No one was coming for them. He needed to get moving back to the monastery, but how?

 With one hand still producing fire, Felix tried to examine where exactly the wound was. He couldn’t let his emotions best him. Not now, not with her life on the line. He failed his troops, but he won’t fail her. Not again.

 “My back…” her voice came hoarse. Without a word he gently rolled her body over. Angling the fire just right allowed him to see the damage, and the sight was horrid. Underneath tattered cloth was feathered burn marks, each stemming across her flesh like ribbons. His eyebrows crinkled as he reached to touch one, only for her entire body to jerk back. He could do nothing for this.

 “(Y/N) we need to get out of here. There has to be a healer somewhere, so you have to hold on,” he said.

 “M-my pocket…v-vulnery…stomach…ears ringing,” he reached into her pocket without delay. In any other circumstance an action like this would make him flustered, but there wasn’t time. She was fading. The moment he grasped the bottle he pulled off the lid.

 “Can you swallow?” she nodded, and he positioned her head to lay on his lap. Just a little longer and they could run. Felix let go of the fire, and slowly poured the bottles contents into her mouth. Bit by bit he’d wait for her to swallow, and every few moments she’d almost slip from consciousness. Then he’d rest and keep her talking.  If there is one thing Mercedes did teach him, it’s that talking is a good sign.

 After the bottle was empty, they both sat in silence. He tried to hold a conversation but with the sounds of war in the distance it was difficult. Half of him wanted to go fight, to try and turn the tides of battle. Yet the other half of him made him stay. When he’d look down to see her face scrunched in agony the decision became easy. The vulnery began to take effect as her muscles tensed at his touch.  His battle was fought for the day, as was hers. All he wanted was Hubert. If the bastard lived beyond the heist, then there would be a hunt.

 A glimpse outside showed the sun beginning to fall. It was time to leave. If not, then the next opportunity wouldn’t arise until morning.

 “(Y/N), we have to go,” his words left no room for argument. Her once disoriented gaze now appeared more focused. She would have to cope as is, and without a word he hoisted her into his arms. She gasped when his hand grazed her back, and with a murmured apology he held her just like before.

 “Where are we going now? My men…” She said. Once freed from the cave he positioned her onto his back. Too weak to protest, her head simply drifted onto his shoulder. A sight that once made his heart pound, now only brought sorrow.  

 “Worry about yourself first,” he grumbled, pressing onward. He didn’t mean for it to come out harsh, but his emotions were already being stretched thin.

 “You know I can’t do that,” she said in a whisper. His gaze trailed to the specs of light in the far distance. A village? He didn’t remember one being so close. It would be a risk but they had no other option

 “Yes, I do. If you did, we wouldn’t be in this mess,”

 “Felix not now,”

 She was tired. The weak grip on his shoulders said it all and yet he couldn’t bring himself to back down. His jaw clenched as he tried to not squeeze her legs tighter. Not now? He didn’t get the option of ‘now,’ when she almost died in his arms.

 “And why not? I don’t need someone protecting me,” He all but growled out.

 “If I didn’t then you would have died,”

 “So, what of it? I am not a child and my actions aren’t your- “

 “Felix, we are a team! It is my business” Cracked and full of desperation, her voice rung in his ear. He sensed no regret, which angered him the most. Listening to her ragged breath, watching his men be slaughtered, knowing that if he was simply better… she was right. Now was not the time.

 “…save your energy. Don’t fall asleep,” he pressed onward.

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

Chapter 14 - History

This is chapter 14 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @dramaticsnakes​ and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur, Tubbo (briefly)

Word count: 2,842

Cw: discussions of death, tension between characters, (verbal) fight

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

Wilbur opened the book carefully, almost afraid the knowledge would vanish right in his hands if he didn’t. It felt weightless as he walked to the table, sitting in the same chair he sat in during the interview. The first page was blank, but after turning to the next page, he saw a table of contents. He mostly skimmed it, the idea of reading being much more exciting than the process itself.

“Local opinions on L’Manberg’s end” caught his eye. He flipped to page 138 and read the beginning. It stated the interview each person was given, explaining how everyone received the same questions on (mostly) the same day. Some bits seemed scattered, as if they were just quick notes jotted down, and the writing wasn’t consistent. It was possible Tubbo had gotten some help writing it all down. Wilbur also remembered how some books had apparently been destroyed, so this likely wasn’t an entirely finished product.

They started chronologically of when they were taken, most of the people at the beginning saying that they weren’t affiliated with L’Manberg, but still felt the despair of those who were. A few questioned his motives along with how long it was planned out. 

Wilbur easily skipped over those, the boringness of them making him yawn. A small smirk came across his face when he saw Dream’s name. He read the statement supplied, “I’m not gonna lie or fluff it up, Wilbur was an idiot. He didn’t know how to run a nation at all, but he was so hungry for power that he assumed he could. I would say it’s sad that Wilbur blew it up, but good riddance to that cry for attention.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. No wonder he declared independence against him. He truly didn’t understand the restrictions the world put on him. It really wouldn’t have been difficult for Dream to let them be their own nation, but instead, he had to childishly declare war. Though regardless of the past, Wilbur didn’t hold many hard feelings against the man. Not after what Dream had done for him. He read the next statement. A small look of disgust came across his face when he saw it was Eret.

“I know my history with L’Manberg, but I still wish it didn’t come to this fate. Wilbur was a good person. Perhaps he slipped off the deep-end near the end there, but he held kindness close to his chest. I know I… betrayed them, but I shouldn’t have. If I could go back and change it I would.” A small supplement at the end added that the confession was taken the day of L’Manberg’s explosion.

Wilbur looked at the words for longer than he should’ve blinking at them as if they’d been a trick of the light. A good person? They might have interacted so long ago, but he hoped they would at least remember the bare minimum of who he was. A good person, perhaps once, or at the very least an attempt at one. Though Eret’s words were far too hesitant and sympathetic, and Wilbur couldn’t quite get himself to grasp them. He remembered seeing regret in Eret’s eyes, that Wilbur quickly shoved away. He remembered the hope he once had for when Tommy started pursuing other things. Hope that Eret could act as a vice-president in his place. Or even before that happened, they could be a treasurer or anything that would have helped them in the wars. Perhaps they could have even helped in the elections, using his charm and charisma to ‘woo’ the neutral voters. But in the end, Eret had found a better deal, and throughout the 13 and a half years, Wilbur had found it increasingly difficult to blame her for that.

He let his eyes drift across the page, skipping a few nobodies that just happened to be nearby, before reading Tommy’s. A small note was made to the side saying it was taken three days after the explosion. “I can’t fucking believe him. We fought together for- for- I don’t know how long! But he... we had L’Manberg again and he- he’s gone. I wish I felt bad that he’s dead and shit but it was his decision for all of that to happen. Not a single person pushing him towards that. The war- our lives aren’t even over yet, but he had to leave us already.”

Wilbur shut his eyes for a moment, before rereading it once more. The words and their meanings didn’t change. Wilbur had wanted strong words like it, because words of enemies didn’t sting, and Wilbur had effectively made Tommy his enemy. Though he wasn’t certain if these counted as strong words. In fact, he wasn’t entirely certain what he’d expected them to say. If he’d expected Tommy to say anything at all. Tommy hadn’t followed along with Wilbur, despite Wilbur once feeling that he was doing exactly what they needed to do. And it was fine, really. Wilbur had left his impact, and while the action now felt distant to him, Tommy did not need to feel bad for his death. Wilbur didn’t know exactly why he’d returned, but a warm welcome wasn’t to be expected. While Tommy’s words were strange and familiar, talking of Wilbur as if he was a person who left, who died to be mourned, rather than an event, a choice, and a legacy, they were to be expected of the child. Wilbur pursed his lips, fiddling with the corner of the page in his hand. He lingered on Tommy’s section for longer than he should’ve. He didn’t know if seconds or minutes passed but he heard Tubbo’s voice from nearby, “You good?” 

He turned towards Tubbo, slipping on a grin, “Yeah, yeah, it’s all pretty interesting stuff.”

Tubbo hesitantly smiled in return, “Cool, I’ll just be down here if you need anything.” He did finger guns towards the direction of the stairs and awkwardly walked back down them.

Although Wilbur’s mind was blurred, a small part of him was able to focus on Tubbo’s feelings about L’Manberg. He flipped through the pages, names filled his eyes, but none of them were what he was looking for. He frowned and double-checked, but the same results still occurred. He flipped to the last page of the section, figuring that Tubbo must’ve been at the end, if not the beginning. Instead, he found a small portion that read, “Any statements not present are from the people present only after L’Manberg’s original explosion weren’t available.”

Wilbur knew Tubbo was present during the wars, so it didn’t make sense why he pretended like he wasn’t. Especially because the statement implied he only joined after L’Manberg was over and dealt with. Did Tubbo rewrite history so he wasn’t a part of it? That didn’t seem likely to him, but the lack of Tubbo’s opinion on the paper spoke louder than his thoughts. 

He told himself to shrug it off as Ghostbur’s quiet voice popped into his mind, “Hey, Wilbur, can we talk about something?” 

Wilbur looked around, trying to ensure Tubbo couldn’t hear him. He mumbled, “Later.”

Ghostbur took in a deep breath, “That’s okay. Just- make sure that I don’t forget to ask about it.” 

Wilbur absentmindedly nodded as he flipped to one of the earlier pages. His eyes didn’t focus on the paper, but rather on what he wanted to know. He decided his father’s opinion would be the best choice. He flipped the page once again and spotted Phil’s name near the middle of the text. “It’s been a lot to handle. I wasn’t a part of L’Manberg, but- Wilbur being gone. It means more to me than L’Manberg did to him.” 

It was short and sweet in the way Wilbur expected. It washed out most of Tommy’s statement as he flipped around in search of Niki’s. He briefly thought about Ranboo’s opinion, but the book already told him it wouldn’t be there. Even then, the centrist would have probably made something up that would apply to any event. 

Niki’s opinion didn’t focus much on Wilbur, but it was still good nonetheless. “I used to care about L’Manberg a lot. I built the original flag and I felt… I felt so close to everyone there. Even when Schlatt came into power. L’Manberg was all I really had to go to, even if it was technically Manberg at the time. Yet, I feel in a way, like time split us apart. Not Wilbur though. I wished he was still here.”

Wilbur smiled softly. He missed her quite a lot, especially during limbo. He would close his eyes, and pretend he was baking with her again. Nothing in particular either, just tossing flour on each other and bumping shoulders occasionally. There was enough room in the kitchen to avoid the latter, but it brought a closeness to the both of them that Wilbur didn’t know how to describe. Of course, that was during the desperate years. The ones where the concrete of the platform seemed to burn his feet, as he let vulnerability slip in, right before he let it grow into something else.

He searched his mind, thinking of who he met after his revival, and his breath hitched at the thought of Fundy. He sat for a moment, contemplating if he should even do it. He flipped the page carefully, skimming for the name of his son.

He found it quicker than he would have liked to. A dread filling his chest that he forcefully pushed away. He read the segment Fundy spoke about. Reading it over and over again, none of it sticking in his head. Disbelief and confusion hit him like a truck. The only words his son spoke about it were, “I feel ashamed to even call him my father.” 

Wilbur closed the book. The cover seemed to burn him as he did so. He let it sit on the table, his hands resting on his legs. He robotically stood up, his movements feeling stiff and unnatural. He laid a hand on the book that rested so peacefully. He begrudgingly picked it up, the book somehow feeling much heavier than last time. He slowly shuffled towards the bookshelf, putting it back where he thought it was, not paying much mind if it was in the right place or not.

“Wilbur,” Ghostbur said, his voice sounding a bit apprehensive.

“Yes, what is it?” Wilbur asked, a little sharper than he perhaps intended. 

“Wil, why did you lie?” the words came out, with a certain sadness, yet they seemed almost practiced. They were quick, yet each syllable was dripping with concern or perhaps spite, if Wilbur didn’t know any better.

“Lie about what?” Wilbur asked, huffing.

“Tubbo…” he took a deep breath, “Tubbo asked you if there were any side-effects, and you didn’t mention me. You said I wasn’t there. But I am! I know I am, because we’re talking. So why didn’t you say that?”

Wilbur breathed in sharply, like a hiss. “It’s nothing.” he said, “I wasn’t planning lie much after the revival, but what would you want me to say?”

“That I’m here!”

“I can’t just say that!” Wilbur said, trying to keep his voice down, “They can’t know you’re here, because it’ll make it harder for us to find a way to get you out.”

“They can help! Tubbo would want to help.” Ghostbur said, certainly.

“Tubbo isn’t going to believe me, Ghostbur. It’s going to concern him, and we don’t want Tubbo to be sad, do we?” The last words came out a bit more naturally than what Wilbur had wanted them to.

It did seem to make Ghostbur go quiet, for just a few moments. When Wilbur almost thought Ghostbur had nothing more to say, he spoke, “No no no, you don’t understand!” He said, “Sometimes, sadness can be okay, I think. Lying isn’t good at all. It leads to bad things.” The last sentence, held more melancholy than the rest.

Wilbur wanted to laugh. “It’s not that simple.” he said, “Lying is an excellent tool. Sometimes, you need it to survive, Ghostbur. And right now we do.”

“How do you know that?” Ghostbur asked, beginning to sound slightly panicked, “They told me it wouldn’t be bad, but then they lied, and it was! It was bad.”

Wilbur shook his head confusedly, “Who are you talking about?”

A bit of shock came from Ghostbur’s following gasp. “I… I don’t know.” he said, and the confusion told Wilbur it was the truth, “I’m not sure I…” he was breathing a little faster, “I can’t find the memories, but lying is bad Wilbur! It’s not going to lead to anything good, I can feel it.”

“Lying can give you an advantage, and we want to get you out quickly.” Wilbur said. He felt as if the world was momentarily catching fire around him. “It’s just a white lie, Ghostbur. Just to keep everything on track. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“I… I’m sorry, but I just don’t think this is a good idea! We should tell Tubbo. We can trust him, I know it!”

“Who are you to say who I can fucking trust?” Wilbur said, a little louder, “This is none of your business! This is my life, even if you insist on invading it!” 

As the words hung sharply in the air, the silence that followed became blindingly obvious. 

Wilbur could hear his own slow breathing, filling the empty room. “Fuck… Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to say that.”

There was no response.

“Ghostbur, I...” he breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to say that.”

The silence from the ghost stabbed him in the chest. “Ghostbur, it was just a bit of a slip-up. Y’know like when you get tongue-tied?” Wilbur tried to pull off a playful tone, but the concern behind it was prevalent. Wilbur sighed. It wasn’t one out of aggression, but rather a disappointment in himself. 

He walked away from the bookshelf and towards the stairs, seeing Tubbo harvesting some melons from his farm. He forgot that the boy was even there, his thoughts consuming everything around him. He faintly smiled as he walked to the lower level of the bunker. He didn’t bother ruining the peace and simply mentioned, “I put the book back.”

Tubbo looked down at Wilbur. “Oh! Alright. Are you heading out?”

“I suppose I am,” Wilbur said, a bit quietly, almost hoping that Tubbo’s voice would bring some response from the ghost. 

“Where are you going?” Tubbo asked.

At the words, Wilbur realized he didn’t have a good answer to that. His head was a mess, and it felt emptier than usual. He tried to open any gate in his mind at all, to find a rhyme or reason to his actions and his desires. For some reason, the one purpose he’d assigned to himself, seemed further off than before. It was silly and frivolous of him to bother being affected in such a way. If there was one thing he’d learned as a commander, it was that the war would rage on, whether you felt like it or not. A break, and a moment of silence, was rarely a particularly good sign. Sometimes you needed it to make plans however, and if he couldn’t even do something as simple as that, how could he consider himself powerful anymore? Knowledge. He needed knowledge, and he’d just left all the books behind after looking at one. He breathed in. “I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re welcome to head to the mansion.” Tubbo said with a shrug, “Ranboo and I are sleeping over again tonight, so if you need a place to stay, you’re welcome there.”

Wilbur froze, and weighed the suggestion in his mind. He heard a faint and familiar breath from Ghostbur that calmed his heart for a moment. “Sure.” he said, a little too quickly, “That sounds fine.” He accompanied it with a smile, to try to make the exchange seem natural. 

Tubbo’s expression indicated it hadn’t worked entirely, but the frown quickly turned into a similar smile. “Sweet! I’ll be going there soon enough, but you can go ahead if you want.” Just before Wilbur had the chance, Tubbo looked as if he remembered something. “Oh, also! Try not to tell anyone about this place. It’s a secret to most people.”

Wilbur nodded, unsure why Tubbo would’ve told him about it, if it was such a secret. “Can I come back here?” 

Tubbo took a moment to respond. “Make sure I’m with you.” he said, “We have some structural problems, so I don’t want anyone to be here without me being aware of it.”

The words reached Wilbur strangely. He swallowed something in his throat and nodded nonetheless. Then, without further response, he wandered outside, into a much more apparent form of silence.

Tubbo nodded and looked slightly dismayed at Wilbur’s sudden exit, “Alright, seeya later.”

Wilbur took long strides away from the bunker, hoping it would help collect his thoughts for Ghostbur. His footsteps echoed through the halls, making him miss the sound of Ghostbur’s voice. He walked towards the entrance of Pogtopia, quickly exiting. The change of scene didn’t help him think. If anything, it only increased his worries about the ghost as his mind ran.

[creek4lifeman]

One of those days

Here’s another Creek fic for you guys that I made art for.

Title: One Of Those Days Rating: T Pairing: Tweek X Craig Characters: Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Mrs. Tweak Tags: Canon Complaint, AKA they’re in 4th grade, Craig POV, Mild Language, Mentions of Anxiety and Mental health issues, Coloring books, Fake Tattoos, Fluff, Dorks in love, One shot, Tweek’s parents are clueless, Art in fic Summary: Tweek is having a bad day and Craig goes to visit in order to be there for him.  Even if that just happens to be coloring and giving each other fake tattoos. 

Read below the cut

Craig knows it’s going to be one of those days when Tweek doesn’t show up to school. Craig’s used to it at this point, but it still never sits well with him whenever the desk next to him is empty. He’ll never admit it out loud, but it’s days like these that unsettle him the most and he finds himself missing the sound of his boyfriend trying his best to keep quiet or the way he can’t sit still to save his life.

It’s the consistency mostly, Craig tells himself or at least that’s the conclusion he’s come to. He’s just plain and boring Craig, who lives by schedule and likes to keep it that way. When Tweek can’t go to school, they don’t meet up at their locker in the morning so that they can hold hands to the cafeteria for breakfast and when that happens, well, Craig’s whole day is then thrown off completely.

The only constant on days like these are that if Craig doesn’t get detention, which chances of that are much higher on the days Tweek isn’t in school, then he immediately heads to his boyfriend’s house as soon as he leaves the building. 

Today, it’s Mrs. Tweak that answers the door.

“Well, hello Craig. Are you here to see Tweek?”

Of course he is.

No matter how often he shows up on days like these, the Tweaks always stare at him in awe when he shows up. Almost as if they wonder why Craig would show up when Tweek is like this. Which only pisses Craig off even more at how terrible his significant other’s parents are.

“Yes, ma’m. Is he okay?” Craig manages to ask between gritted teeth. He already knows what her answer is going to be too. But if it’s the best way to get permission to enter, then Craig’s going to put in the effort.

“Oh, he’s fine honey. Tweek’s just going through one of his usual fits. Nothing to worry about,” she says with her plastic smile.

Craig clenches his fist but carries on. “He is? Then can I go up and see him?”

Mrs. Tweak hestates, like she always does. As if she’s afraid to be caught in her lie. Craig doesn’t know why Tweek’s parents act like everything is always fine, when it’s not. Maybe they are ashamed of Tweek and his bad days. He will never know and maybe he’d have been turned away if he was any other person. 

But he’s Tweek’s boyfriend, and the Tweak’s absolutely adore Craig for making their only son a homosexual. As if Craig had any say in that. A gay son made Tweek more interesting and by that reasoning, made the Tweak’s more interesting. So now Tweek Bros Coffee gets more business and because of that Craig will always have special privileges, such as being invited in on a bad day

“Come on in Craig. I’m sure seeing you will make him snap right out of it.”

Mrs. Tweak opens the door wide and Craig has to pinch his leg to keep himself from snapping at her that it doesn't work that way.

Unlike the Tweaks, Craig has done his research on mental illness and while he’s come to accept that he can’t fix everything, It took him a lot of hard days to realise that as well, at least Craig knows a few techniques he can try.

Taking the steps, two at a time, Craig makes it up the stairs in no time. He reaches the room with a guinea pig poster, an anniversary gift from Craig, and knocks in a familiar song like pattern before opening the door. It their way of communicating to each other that they are visiting each other’s house. That and it prevents Tweek from panicking when the door suddenly opens.

“Nnnngh!”

His honey is bent over in concentration at his desk, a crayon in his hand sweeping across a booklet he doesn’t recognize. Tweek mutters for a moment more before screeching and tossing the yellow crayon across the room. 

Wild eyes turn to face Craig and it takes the boy only a few seconds to access the situation. Tweek waits for Craig to say something, anything. Craig knows better though. Tweek doesn’t need Craig to tell him everything is going to be fine. He doesn’t speak. Instead, Craig opens up his arms and it’s so worth it when his boyfriend smiles, even shakingly, and then throws himself across the room to wrap his arms around Craig’s neck in a warm embrace. 

“Hey Babe, I missed you in school today.”

“S-sorry Craig, I just couldn’t today,” Tweek groaned as he slumped further into Craig’s shoulder.

“It’s fine dude. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

It felt nice having his boyfriend in his arms. It didn’t exactly make up for missing him all day but it did come super close.

Tweek leaned back and reluctantly Craig let him go. 

“It was those damn underpant gnomes man! They kept me up all night trying to explain their profit system again and I-”

“Tweek,” Craig interrupted and after saying his name twice, his honey paused mid sentence to gape at him.

“Relax. You don’t have to explain,” he assured Tweek but then remembered that sometimes talking is exactly what Tweek needs, “..unless it helps?” 

“I-it does, but now it’s too much pressure to explain,” Tweek replied after taking a moment to consider Craig’s words. 

Craig didn’t pressure him though. Instead, he grabbed Tweek’s hand and led him back to the desk he’d been furiously working on. 

“Okay babe, then how about you explain what you were doing before I came in?”

Craig reached out towards the book spread open with different crayons littered all over it and saw that Tweek had been coloring in stars and planets. 

Is this…

“A space themed coloring book?” Craig ended up saying out loud.

“Y-yeah, I was trying to color before you got here. My therapist said it could help, b-but I can’t seem to stay in the lines."

True to his word, Tweek had gone off and messed up in some areas, but Craig didn’t care. He was too entranced by the fact that Tweek had doodled them standing together on a planet while holding hands. That and well, what’s more awesome than a space themed coloring book?

“C-can I have this picture when you’re done?” Craig practically whispered but there was no denying the need in his voice. He never wanted anything more this moment.

“What!?” Tweek shrieked, “Why dude? It sucks!”

“No it doesn’t,” Craig immediately defended the piece of work. It may not be perfect to Tweek but to Craig it was. “I like it, so I want it.”

“Ngh, I don’t know man...”

Tweek reached out for the coloring book and Craig let him have it. Not wanting his selfishness to lead to a panic attack In fact, he had an idea to help him convince Tweek.

“Then how about this, I color one for you and you finish coloring this one for me?”

Tweek’s eyes widened in shock before staring back down at the coloring book and pulling it close to his chest. “Oh jesus, you really want this that bad?”

Craig rolled his eyes at being called out like that but didn’t say anything to deny it either. “Don’t act like you don’t want one of mine either.”

“F-fine!” Tweek squeaked, his cheeks turning pink and a small smile crawling up his cheeks. “But you have to cut out the page so that I can finish and so that y-you can pick out whatever you want, man.”

“Okay.” Craig easily agreed. He grabbed the pair of scissors stored in the cup full of other writing utensils before carefully cutting out Tweek’s page. They each set up a coloring station, aka Tweek at his desk while Craig took the floor, with crayons, color pencils, and snacks that were brought up by Mrs. Tweak.

Craig flipped through the pages until he got to the center and found that there was a sheet full of space themed stickers. No wait, he was wrong. These were those fake tattoos that applied to the skin with water.

So cool!

Craig cut them out for later and continued searching until he settled on an awesome rocketship shooting through the sky. Immediately he drew a version of himself and Tweek in the window. It wasn’t as great as his boyfriend’s depiction of them, but it would have to do. After that, he picked up a blue color pencil and began to fill in the area around the ship to make it look more like outer space.

After a couple of minutes, Tweek stopped what he was working on to turn to Craig.

“Thanks…”

Craig paused as well to stare at his boyfriend. Unsure of what exactly he was being thanked for. Maybe his confusion is written all over his face because Tweek continues.

“For coming over to color with me.”

Oh.

Craig tried his best not to smile.

“No problem, honey. Is it helping?”

Tweek swiveled back towards his page to avoid facing him with what Craig assumes is another blush on Tweek’s face before nodding towards the wall.

This fills Craig with joy as they spend the next couple of minutes coloring in a peaceful silence.

That is until he hears his boyfriend groaning again in distress. It starts off with a couple noises here and there but then it turns into full on frustrated growling after ten minutes.

“Babe? You okay?”

Craig looks at his boyfriend in concern, only to see him snapping a purple crayon in half.

So, not okay.

He gets up and calmly collects the broken pieces from Tweek’s hands and places his free palm against his boyfriend’s cheek.

There’s tears in those emerald eyes and it immediately makes Craig’s heart fall.

“What’s wrong honey?”

Tweek shoves the paper as far away from him, almost practically ripping it in two before glaring holes in the now bare table in front of him. 

“I just can’t gah get the color to look right dammit!”

Craig frowns before using his palm to turn Tweek’s head to face him.

“Alright, then how about we take a break and come back to it later?”

Tweek blinks at him before replying.

“And do what?”

This time, Craig doesn’t hold back his smile at the adorably curious but pouty look his boyfriend gives him.

“How about we give each other Tattoos?”  

Tweek screams.

“Craig! We can’t ngh give each other tattoos! We don't know how or have the right tools! What if I get ink poisoning? That’s a thing right? Or worse! Infected!”

Wait what?

Craig is at a loss of words until it hits him what Tweek is actually talking about. 

Real tattoos.

He literally has to grab the tattoo sheet and show Tweek what he means in order to get him to calm down. When he finally understands that the tattoos are fake, Tweek takes a deep breath and stops shaking so hard.

“All better, babe?”

“Y-yeah.” Tweek stutters as he takes the sheet and looks over the options. “You want to wear these?”

Craig scoffs, “Uh yeah, they’re space themed. Of course, I do.”

Tweek giggles before pointing at a space helmet tattoo. “You should do this one.”

“Because I’m Spaceman Craig?”

“Yep,” Tweek nods before reaching for his scissors to cut out said tattoo. “Where do you want it?

“Hmm, how about on my face?”

“Okay!”

Tweek stands up and leads them to the bathroom so that they can wet a towel with warm water to use as a compress and make the tattoo work. As soon as they are done with Craig’s, the helmet comes out perfectly, it’s Tweek’s turn.

“Can I pick yours?”

“Uh maybe?” Tweek says sounding unsure, “What were you thinking?” Craig looks over the sheet before settling on a rocket. Just like the one Tweek keeps in his room and points at it.

“That one.”

Tweek smiles before agreeing and points to his own cheek so that Craig knows where to place it.

They go back and forth, placing fake tattoos on each other until Tweek points at a pair of stars and suggests, “We should each get one in the same place to match.”

It’s cheesy but it’s also the most romantic thing Craig’s ever heard of and he agrees without missing a heartbeat.

They both decide to wear their matching star in a place that can’t wash off so easily. This just happens to be on their upper arm. 

They spend the rest of the day covered in tattoos and coloring. When Craig has to go home and shower, he makes sure to avoid rubbing off the star tattoo.

When the next day comes and he finds Tweek at school showing off the star tattoo to Token, Jimmy and Clyde, Craig can’t help but feel a swell of pride in his chest and the hope that one day in the future they can get a permanent matching one.

End

[winters-blue-children]

Games and Theory (A 10k Evan Buckley disaster fic featuring jealous Eddie, phone sex, a fake relationship, and Albert being a genius)

Eddie's not looking for serious. He just wants casual, easy, and uncomplicated. 

Buck has been in love with his best friend for two years. Does he take his sister's advice and confess his feelings? Nah, Evan Buckley always has to do things the hard way.

At some point, Buck and Albert became pretty good friends. Maybe it’s the shared older siblings mackin’ on each other, or the having horrible parents thing, but it turns out they get along really well. A little too well, as Chimney often likes to complain about. He calls it a Buckley-Han recipe for disaster.

Wanna meet up for pool later tonight?

Can’t. It’s movie night with Eddie and Chris.

The blinking ellipses begin immediately after his last text is sent. Buck rolls his eyes in anticipation. He knows exactly what Albert is going to say.

Have fun with your looover.

Fuck off. He’s not my lover.

But you want him to be ;-)

Buck scowls at his phone before turning the screen off. His loud, frustrated groan echoes throughout his empty apartment. Damn high ceilings. While it’s nice to have someone to complain about being completely head over heels for his best friend, it also sucks to be reminded constantly that his love life is hopeless and helpless and, in Chim’s words… embarrassingly tragic.

“Movie night,” Buck mutters to himself, mentally preparing for an evening of kid-friendly movies, lots of popcorn, and being in painfully close proximity to the man he’s desperately in love with. “Completely platonic movie night.”

…

In between their last film and Chris’s bedtime, which the kid managed to convince his dad to push back—“But it’s not a school night, Dad!” And like most people who have met Christopher Diaz, Eddie has trouble saying no to his kid too—Buck finds himself seated on the living room floor, a jumbo Lego set spilled all around him. He spends the next thirty minutes sticking pieces together with his best friend’s son.  

“What is that?” Chris asks, tilting his head in confusion at the multi-colored lump in Buck’s hands. It’s all sharp angles and weird shapes.

“I’m not sure, bud. I made it to match yours.”

Chris laughs loudly, head thrown back as he giggles. And Buck laughs too, open and free and so genuinely happy.

Several feet away from them, Eddie watches quietly, a soft smile on his face.

…

Eddie’s not much of a talkative guy, at least not compared to Buck. When they’re together though, Buck brings him out of his shell, and Eddie makes sure to keep Buck grounded. Chim and Hen joke that they ‘complete’ each other. Whatever that means.

The point is that Eddie has a shy side. And considering he’s about twelve years out of the dating game, he needs his best friend to help him out.

“I thought you said you needed a wingman?”

Eddie stubbornly looks up and glares at Buck. He’s nursing his third beer, which he’d been staring at with what Buck had described as ‘crazy eyes’. And he’s adamantly refused to look anywhere around the bar that they’re currently in.

Buck leans closer over their small table. “We’ve been here for an hour and you haven’t even made eye contact with anyone. What are you doing?”

“Look, I haven’t done this in a very long time, okay?!” Eddie hissed. “I was with Shannon for two years before I enlisted. Two tours later, and add a kid to the picture, I’m a little out of practice!”

Buck’s face softens and he seems to take pity on him.

“Well, if you would get out of your own head and take a look around, you’d notice that more than a few lovely ladies have been eying you up all night.” Buck pauses and adds, “A few guys, too. If you’re into that.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pulls a face like Buck just told a joke. He misses the way Buck looks slightly dejected, just for a second, before his grin slides back into place.

“So what are you looking for then? Blonde? Brunette? Are you into any weird stuff ‘cause the chick with the sleeve tats over there looks like she likes to play with toys.”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head, finally looking around the room for the first time. “I want something… uncomplicated.”

“Uncomplicated like a quickie in the bathroom? I’ve been there, and would not recommend. Your back will be killing you the next day.”

“Just… something easy, no strings attached, never have to call them again…”

“A one-night stand?” Buck frowns and tilts his head curiously. “Sounds like my old kind of thing. I didn’t think it was yours.”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s too hard to try for anything serious. I have Christopher to think about, and he needs one hundred percent of my attention. And I definitely can’t be bringing home random girls, hoping one of them is going to be Chris’s new mom.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Most would run away once they find out I’m a widowed veteran-father anyway. Talk about a flight risk.”  

“Don’t be so negative about yourself,” Buck says, his voice low. “You’re a great guy, and anyone would be lucky to have you.”  

Eddie pauses at the sincerity in Buck’s voice. It’s sweet. And nice. But he shakes his head and the moment ends. “Alright, help me out here. I really don’t want to go home tonight to just my left hand for company. Who do you think I’ve got a chance with?”

Buck grins, a little mirthless. “The girl in the red top, drinking a Long Island at the bar.” He raises an eyebrow and nods in her direction. “She’s with a group of friends, but she’s not been chatty. She keeps looking around the room like she’s looking for someone.”

Eddie turns and to his surprise, he makes eye contact. She’s attractive, probably mid to late twenties, with brown hair and blue eyes. Three solid seconds pass before she grins flirtatiously, bats her eyes, and looks away.

“Hook, line, and sinker,” Buck murmurs.

Eddie finishes off his beer. The bitter taste lingers and settles in his mouth, giving him an odd sense of confidence as he stands. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Buck says softly.

Eddie slides against the bar next to the girl in the red top. He grins, friendly but not over the top. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she answers with a bright smile.

Eddie waves over the bartender. “Hi, can I get an IPA and another of what she’s having? Oh, and one more beer for my friend—” He turns his head, about to point to Buck when his eyes land on their empty table. Buck’s jacket is gone too.

He must have left.

“Um, nevermind about that last one. Thanks.”

…

Evan Buckley has been in love with his best friend for over two years. It’s painful, that they can be so close and yet he sometimes feels a million miles away. “I can’t get him out of my head, Mads. I think about him all the time and it’s so fucking distracting.”

“Dude, I work with you guys,” Chimney says slowly. “In a very dangerous line of work.”

Buck scowls as Maddie slaps her boyfriend’s arm. “I came over here to talk to my sister. Do you really have to be a part of the conversation?”

“I was here first!”

“Hm, yeah sorry,” Buck frowns and shakes his head. “I think I’ve got about twenty-six years on you in that department.”

“Stop fighting, children, please!”

Buck continues to mope on the couch while Chim shakes his head and helps himself to snacks on the coffee table. The crunch of chips between his teeth clashes harshly with the constant thump of Buck’s knee bouncing against the underside of the table.

“Look, Evan,” Maddie says carefully. “I think you really need to tell Eddie how you feel.”

“Why? What’s the point?” Buck demands. “So that he can reject me nicely? Let me down easy, maybe? Best case scenario, he says that nothing’s ever going to change between us and then he acts all weird and awkward because he knows that his best friend—who is a guy—is fucking in love with him!”  

Maddie reaches over and grabs her brother’s hand to hold. Even Chim’s eyes are downcast, looking like he feels a bit bad for him.

“You have to tell him, so that you can start to get over him,” Maddie says softly. “So that you can move on.”

“Maddie’s right,” Chim chimes in. “Rejection is the first step. If Tatiana hadn’t rejected me, I’d probably still be in that awful facade of a relationship. I never would have found the most wonderful and amazing person that I was meant to be with.”

Maddie grins softly at him. She leans over and they share a sweet kiss.

“Ugh,” Buck pulls a face and looks away. “Gross. That’s it, I can’t take any more of this. I’m out of here.”

“Evan, you don’t have to go!” Maddie says.

At the same time that Chim says, “See ya tomorrow, Buck.” He shrugs when they both give him a look. “What? I spend all day with the guy, I gotta see him at home, too?”

“Love you too, Chim,” Buck says sarcastically.

“He’s family,” Maddie says sternly.

“Hey, speaking of, where’s Albert?” Buck asks.

“Probably hooking up with rando hot girl number thirty.”

“Huh.” Buck pulls out his phone and hums. He says his goodbyes and leaves his sister and Chimney to do… whatever old, happy couples do on a Wednesday night.

Where you at?

A minute later, Albert responds. Some bar on West 23rd St. Wanna join?

Not feeling up to it. Wanna come over and hang instead?

Sure. Albert says. And then another text. I’ll be over in an hour.

…

It’s the middle of their shift and things are slow, which is never something to complain about. Eddie regales a tale about the latest girl he hooked up with. There have been a few girls since that night at the bar, and Eddie never shies away from telling Buck. Nothing too lewd. Just the highlights.

Buck nods and hums in response. His attention, however, is glued to his phone, where his thumbs rapidly fly across the screen as he texts. He plasters a lopsided grin on his face for show.

“I’m sorry, is my story about my foray back into the dating scene for the first time in over a decade too boring for you?”

Buck’s eyes snap up and he grins apologetically. He quickly slips his phone back into his pocket. “Sorry! I was listening, I swear!”

Eddie doesn’t buy it for one second.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Buck says quickly. See, he was listening. “You sealed the deal, right?”

Eddie sighs. “Yeah. It was alright. Not exactly a night of passion.”

“Better luck next time. Plenty more one-night fish in the sea, am I right?”

Eddie frowns, figuring Buck is right. He puts his mediocre night out of his mind. Buck looks like he’s itching to check his phone again. And then Eddie suddenly wonders what’s got his friend so distracted lately. “Hey, what was that just now? You’ve been glued to your phone the whole day. What is going on with you?”

Buck blushes and actually looks embarrassed, a rare sight. “I uh—I met someone,” he says bashfully.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, surprised. “Wow, um, congrats, dude. You haven’t mentioned getting back out there or anything.”

“Yeah, well. I figured it was time. It’s been a year since Ali…”

Eddie frowns and tries to be happy for him. But the only thing he can think is, “Is it serious?”

Buck grins softly. “It might be. Too early to tell, you know? But I think I want it to be.”

Eddie nods. An uncomfortable feeling rolls around in the pit of his stomach. He must have eaten something at lunch that doesn’t agree with him. He brushes it aside. “What’s her name?”

Buck hesitates. “His name is… Tom.”

Whatever Eddie ate for lunch might be threatening to come back up again.

…

“How could he not tell me? I mean, how could he not tell me?! We’re best friends, this is the type of thing that you tell your best friend!” Eddie gestures wildly with his arms as he speaks.

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” Hen takes a drink of her cocktail and narrowly avoids being hit accidentally by Eddie’s flailing hands. “It’s not like he outright lied to you.”

“Not telling me that he’s into guys isn’t lying to me?”

“He’s dated one girl in the two plus years that you’ve known him. So he omitted one small fact about himself, so what? There are people who like both, you know.”

Eddie scoffs, incredulous. “Yeah, but Buck?!”

Hen gives him a pointed look and Eddie sighs. “I just… I don’t get why didn’t he tell me sooner.” He says softly.

“Please. You are not about to ask a lesbian why Buck didn’t out himself to you sooner. And you are definitely not having an issue with the fact itself, right?”

“Of course not,” Eddie says firmly. He might have grown up in a homophobic town in Texas, but that was never him. He stood up for the kids who got bullied growing up. He would never hate Buck for being gay, bi, pan, or whatever he labels himself. He would never hate anyone for that.

He just can’t seem to wrap his head around it. Why didn’t Buck tell him sooner? Why does it feel like such a painful and devastating betrayal, knowing that Buck met someone and they ‘might’ be getting serious?

“Wait,” Eddie freezes. “Hang on. Why aren’t you more surprised by this?”

Hen chuckles. “We have… a type of radar. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” She finishes her drink and laughs to herself. “From the second I laid eyes on that boy, I could tell he was a womanizer and a playboy. But let me tell you, that bitch also looks like he is two clicks away from calling the first man to pull his hair Daddy.” She cackles loudly, unaware that Eddie is struggling not to choke on the air in his lungs.  

…

Albert is really good at chess.

Apparently, he won some sort of big deal tournament in South Korea. He brushes it off like no big deal whenever Chimney brings it up.

“It’s about being able to predict your opponent's move before they’ve even thought of it. You need to be three steps ahead, always. And flexible enough to adjust your strategy to the evolving game.”

Buck frowns. “That sounds really complicated. And hard.”

“I can teach you. Have you ever heard of game theory?”

“Dude, I told you I wasn’t the best in school,” Buck groans.

“Game theory is recognized as an important tool in many fields. It’s won Nobel prizes,” Albert says seriously.

Buck’s head spins from the nerd talk. “The only thing I care about, is will this even work?”

“Trust me,” Albert smiles, young and soft and genuine. “With my help, it will work.”

…

“Hi, Buck!”

Buck grins at Christopher’s excitement and quickly shoves two bags of take-out into Eddie’s hands so that he can kneel down and give Chris a hug. “Hi, buddy, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Buck!”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been over in a while. I’ve been busy.” His brow furrows, regretful, and he sneaks a quick glance at Eddie, who wears an unreadable expression while he tries to balance the bags Buck had pushed into his arms.  

“That’s okay, you’re here now.” And with that, Chris takes Buck by the hand and leads him over to the couch.

Clearly, it’s now Eddie’s responsibility to handle the food.

After dinner, Buck helps Eddie with the dishes, while Chris is engrossed by a movie in the living room.

“So I was thinking maybe you could spend the night?” Eddie says, as he rinses a dirty dish under the tap. “We can do breakfast tomorrow morning at the diner on Stratton, the one that Chris likes. And I was going to take him to the park afterwards, you know he loves having you there.”

Buck is silent for a moment, just long enough that Eddie stops and looks up from what he’s doing.

“I um… I actually have plans later tonight.”

“Oh,” Eddie says dumbly. Out the corner of his eye, the clock on the oven blinks 8:11 PM. “What kind of plans?” He asks casually.

Buck blushes and drops his gaze. “Tom’s coming over.” A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “I don’t think you want any details beyond that.”    

Eddie purses his lips and returns his attention to the dishes. He doesn’t want to think about Buck and Tom, the latter is just a faceless shadow in his mind. But one with broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw.  

Nope, he does not need any more details.

“Maybe I could still join you guys at the park though?”

“Yeah,” Eddie mutters, as he scrubs a plate with far more force than necessary. “I’m sure Chris would love that.”

…

Eddie isn’t as great at hiding his emotions as he would like to believe. Maybe once upon a time he got away with it, but over the past two years, the 118 has become family to him. And families pry. They get into each other’s business, with good intentions, of course.

“Rough night?”

Eddie looks up and sees his Captain’s concerned face watching him. “Uh, sort of, Cap. I haven’t been sleeping well,” he admits. “Kind of have a lot on my mind right now. But I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s not affecting my work.”

Bobby takes a seat in the chair next to him. “You’ve been pretty quiet lately. Is everything alright at home?”

“Yeah, everything’s great,” Eddie says carefully. “Christopher is doing well and he’s loving his classes at school. Everything’s great, Cap.”

The words taste like ash and sound fake to his own ears.

“Listen, it’s my job to know when something is wrong with my team,” Bobby says seriously. “And you’ve been off for weeks now. Is there… is there something going on between you and Buck that I should know about?”

“No! No, of course not!” Eddie says, a little too quickly. “I mean… Okay, honestly, Buck hasn’t been around much lately—” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Since he’s been seeing someone and… Chris has been asking why he hasn’t been around as much, and I know that he misses him.” He sighs and runs his hands through his short hair. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

Bobby gives him a strange look, like maybe he’s being a bit slow. “Have you tried… talking to Buck about this? I’m sure Buck is more than happy to make time for you guys. You’re family to him.”

Eddie blinks, oblivious. “No. Why would I?”

“Because it might solve all your problems.”

Eddie snorts. That doesn’t quite compute.

Bobby pats him on the shoulder and gives him a sad, knowing glance. He wonders how long it’s going to take for Eddie to admit to himself that it’s not just Chris who misses Buck.

…

“Eddie, h-hey, what’s up?”

Eddie grins. Buck’s voice is breathy like he’s just gone on a run, or been going hard at the gym. It’s a sound that Eddie associates with a bad call that ends well because they saved the day. Out of breath and gasping, but still with a grin plastered across his face so bright it could light up a room.

“What’s going on?” Comes Buck’s concerned voice over the line when Eddie doesn’t answer. “Is everything okay? Is Christopher alright?”

Eddie closes his eyes and tries to get himself out of his own head. He’s been having trouble thinking straight lately. “Yeah. Yeah man, everything’s fine. Just wondering what you’re up to tonight? Chris is having some friends over and I could use another pair of eyes on them. You know I hate being outnumbered,” he chuckles.

“Oh, I’m sorry I can’t,” Buck says, and then there’s a rush of air into the phone before he continues, “I uh… I think I’m staying in tonight.”

Eddie frowns. Something doesn’t sound quite right. He narrows his eyes and presses the phone closer to his ear. There’s rustling in the background, like something is going on over Buck’s end. “Come on, dude,” he presses. “We haven’t hung out outside of work in like two weeks.”

“Yeah, I know,” Buck drawls. “You’re hopeless without me.”

Eddie is about to say something snarky in return when he hears a muffled sound in the background, right before Buck grunts softly into his ear.

His hand tightens on his phone. “Buck?”

“W-what?” Buck sounds distracted, and then the clear sound of a backboard squeaking rhythmically tells Eddie all he needs to know. “Eddie, I gotta go,” he says breathlessly. His voice is cut off by commotion on his end of the line.

Eddie winces when he hears the clear clatter of Buck’s phone dropping to the ground.

“Shit, I dropped my phone!”

Muffled noises and heavy moans drift over the line. Warmth floods his body and Eddie feels his face flush red. It’s suddenly very hard to breathe. He should hang up. He should pretend this call never happened. He really, really should not stay on the line listening to his best friend having sex with another man.

“Oh, fuck, harder—”

Eddie closes his eyes. Buck’s face in high definition lights up in his mind, lips parted, cheeks rosy and flushed, and maybe he bites down on his bottom lip as he gets fucked—

What the hell is he doing? Thinking about Buck’s red lips and how it’s so adorable that his birthmark is the same shade as that luscious mouth—

Eddie considers hanging up yet again.

But the grunts and moans and sounds of pleasure are getting louder. And he’s suddenly so fucking hard.

“Fuck! Come on, give me more, right there—”

His hand is reaching down his pants and wrapping around his hard cock before Eddie even realizes it. He jerks himself roughly as he listens to the sound of Buck’s voice.  

He’s never come so fast in his life.

…

“Hey Chim, how’s it going with Albert?” Eddie asks. “You guys getting along any better?”

Chimney frowns and glances over at the bar where Albert, Buck, and Hen are sharing a laugh over drinks.

“They are getting along wonderfully,” Maddie answers for him.

“Well, he’s family,” Chim manages, shaking his head.

Eddie chuckles and his eyes can’t help but land on Buck and stay there.

Of course, they never mentioned the call, instead both chose to act like the whole thing never happened. Maybe Buck didn’t realize that it was blatantly obvious what he was doing when Eddie called, and maybe he didn’t realize that Eddie stayed on the line, blowing a load over him, like a goddamn creep.  

The next day, he just smiled and clapped a hand on Eddie’s shoulder like nothing was wrong. Nevermind that Eddie’s whole world was crashing around him because he got himself off to his best friend being fucked by another guy. And the orgasm he had over Buck’s voice was more intense than any he’d had with the random women he’d slept with over the past month.

He can’t even remember their names.

So lost in thought, he doesn’t realize that Maddie and Chim are giving each other smirks and looks while he’s distracted.

“What’s going on with you, Mr. Mopey?” Chimney asks.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, confused.

“Come on, you’ve been acting off for weeks,” Chim says while Maddie tries to hide a laugh. “Everyone’s noticed. Just admit it.”

“Admit what?” Eddie genuinely has no idea what he’s talking about.

“You can’t possibly be that thick,” Chim says slowly.

Maddie pats him on the shoulder. “Babe, don’t push it.”

“Oh, come on! Even Albert won’t stop talking about it—”

Eddie never finds out what it is because they’re interrupted by the presence of none other than the man who is the star of his wet dreams.

“What’s up, guys?” Buck’s grin is a mile wide and he’s just loose enough from a few drinks that he’s extra handsy. And he’s pretty handsy with Eddie on a regular day.

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat as his skin hyper focuses on Buck’s arm around his shoulders. He quickly takes another drink of his beer so that he doesn’t have to answer.

And then he spends the rest of the night hoping and praying that his jeans are tight enough to hide the obvious erection in his pants.

…

Eddie thinks it can’t possibly get any worse. He’s wrong.

Weeks of blue balls and pining leave him in a near constant bad mood. Even Chris has noticed that he’s been snappier than usual—which of course, makes him feel like an asshole.  

Buck hasn’t mentioned anything, though everyone else seems to be avoiding him like the plague.

And then during one of their shifts, twenty minutes after Eddie texts Buck to confirm his pizza topping of choice for lunch, he receives a photo to their text message chain. He thinks he’s hallucinating when the little icon image pops up on his screen.

But then he opens the image and his eyes bulge wide out of their sockets.  

Buck is shirtless. It’s not like Eddie hasn’t seen the guy naked before. After all, they’ve spent plenty of time together in the showers and locker room at the firehouse. It’s the look on his face that gets him. The angle is taken from above. It’s meant to be sexual. Buck is biting his lip, head tilted back, a look of absolute sin gracing his handsome features. Eddie has never thought of his friend as pretty before, but god damn, Buck is pretty.

And as Eddie’s eyes trail down Buck’s chest, down his chiseled abs, they travel over the gorgeous V of his hip bones, to just past the base of his shaft, the rest cut off by his boxer briefs pulled down by the hook of his thumb.

The picture was clearly meant for something else.

Eddie doesn’t know what the fuck to do. He’s torn between confronting Buck about this egregious error that he made and running into the bathroom to jerk off.

In hindsight, the latter would have been better. After all, with post-nut clarity, he never would have done what he actually did, which is yell at Buck, in front of the whole firehouse.

“What the actual fuck?!”

Buck gapes at the lewd image on his phone, when shoved in his face. “I—I am so sorry, Eddie!” He stutters, red with embarrassment. “I did not mean to send that to you! I—I didn’t check the chain, and I had forgotten that you texted me your order—”

“You think I want to be getting shit like this on my phone?” Eddie rages. “Be more fucking careful next time you send shit like this to your boyfriend, or whoever the hell he is!”

Buck looks hurt. “Sorry, man,” he says softly. “It won’t happen again.”

Head bowed, Buck walks away with his tail tucked between his legs, leaving Eddie feeling like the biggest asshole on the face of this earth.

It doesn’t help that their little squabble had gained an audience.

Eddies groans and clenches his fists by his sides. He fights the urge to smash his phone to pieces.

He never does delete that photo.

…

Eddie’s not sure how they got to this point. Their friends pity them and Bobby has personally demanded that they resolve their differences. Fast. Or they won’t be covering the same shifts anymore. And now Buck is mad and wanting answers.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you, Buck.”

“You haven’t looked at me in days. If this is still about the pic that I accidentally sent you—”

“No!” Eddie says loudly. “No, it’s not about that. I am definitely way past that.”

Buck pauses and stares at him in disbelief. “Then why doesn’t it feel that way?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie swallows thickly. “Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

“You’ve been acting like a real dick lately,” Buck says blatantly. “If you have a problem with me, you should just say it.”

Eddie bites his tongue. “Nope. No problem at all.”

Buck grits his teeth and storms away. And that’s that.

…

Not too long later, Eddie reaches his breaking point.

“Alright, fine! Maybe I am pissed at you!” Eddie gives in to the weeks of loneliness and sexual frustration and yells at his friend. “I’m pissed that you haven’t been around! And when you are, you’re distracted and distant and all you talk about is this Tom fella—”

“My boyfriend?”

“Whatever!” Eddie says. “Fuck!”

He knows he’s being a Grade A asshole, but he can’t help himself. Buck drives him crazy and he has no idea how to stop it.

A long moment passes before Buck speaks, “Well, not to get your hopes up or anything,” he says softly. “But this Tom thing might not last much longer.”

Eddie’s curiosity is piqued. Despite knowing better, he asks, “What’s going on?”

Buck shrugs uncomfortably. “I think we just want different things. Probably not going to work out in the long run.”

“And… what do you want?”

Buck looks at him and for a second Eddie gets lost in the blue of his eyes. “I want something real, you know? And I thought that’s what he wanted too, but… he wants to keep it open. Keep seeing other people.” He sighs heavily, sounding sad and defeated. “Which I was fine with for a while, but… I kind of thought he’d change his mind eventually.”

Buck shakes his head. “Sorry, man. You don’t want to hear about this—”

“Tom’s a fucking asshole,” Eddie spits.

Buck blinks in surprise. “W-what?” He chuckles softly.

“You heard me. He’s a fucking asshole. I’ll kick his ass if I ever meet him.”  

Buck stares at him for a long moment. And then his face breaks into a grin. “Thanks, Eddie. You’re a good friend.”

Eddie nods. For the first time in a long time, he does feel like a good friend. Because he would absolutely kick anyone’s ass who hurt Buck.

…

Things between them get better after that.

And one evening, after the end of a long shift, Eddie and Buck get good and truly hammered.

It’s been a long time since Eddie had drank that much. But they don’t have to work the next day, Chris is sleeping over at Abuela’s, and him and Buck are friends again. So he lets loose and just goes along with whatever Buck wants. And Buck leans very much into his personal space in his drunk and disorderly state.

Eddie doesn’t mind one bit. Like an idiot, he doesn’t push him away.

He misses the laughs and doesn’t catch the mild looks of judgment and concern from Hen and Chim, because he’s too drunk to care. And when Albert keeps pushing tequila shots their way, he giggles and throws them back with Buck because it finally feels like they’re them again. And he’s really missed this.

…

The pillow that smacks him in the face wakes him up fast. With a startled gasp, Eddie blinks the sleep and haze out of his eyes. The first thing he registers is his throbbing headache.  “What the hell—” The second is the pillow that hits him again before he can do anything more than blink dumbly in surprise. And then he’s pissed. “What the fuck, Buck?!”  

“Stop that!” Eddie grabs the pillow before the other man can hit him again. “This is not exactly the morning after I was hoping for!”

“What exactly were you hoping for?! What the hell, Eddie?! We had sex last night! TOGETHER!” Buck’s voice gets higher until he’s nearly screeching, which is not great for either of their hangovers. He seems to suddenly realize he’s naked because he pulls the covers up tighter around himself as if it might preserve his chastity. A bit late for that, Eddie thinks.

“You… asshole! What the hell?!”  

Eddie rubs the residual fog out of his eyes and stares at him. “You told Chim last night that you would give your left nut to suck my dick, so what the hell are you complaining about?” He smirks and nods at the shocked expression on Buck’s face. “Yeah, apparently, you get reeeal chatty when you’ve had tequila.”

“Chim said what?” Buck whispers softly, looking mildly shell-shocked and like he really wants to bury himself in the earth and never come out again.

“Oh, and by the way, I am way hotter than that guy you were flirting with at the bar,” Eddie growls, indignant and affronted. “If you want to know regret, know that you could have woken up next to that!”

“He—he was perfectly fine looking,” Buck stutters.

At the same time that Eddie hisses, “Man-bun.”

“And more importantly,” Buck continues harshly. “Since when do you sleep with guys?”

“Since last night, apparently,” Eddie says steely, not nearly as mortified and shocked as he should be. He adds, “And it was really great. Morning after could use some work though.”

Buck swallows. “I never thought… I never thought you were interested.”

“Neither did I,” Eddie lies. He takes a breath, counts to three in his head, and on a whim and a prayer, he reaches for Buck and crashes their lips together with such force that they nearly topple over.

They’re all awkward limbs and gross tequila morning breath—and yet, they seem to fit together perfectly in each other’s arms. They fall back onto Buck’s sheets. A mess of gangly limbs, dried bodily fluids, and lips desperate to feel more.  

Perfect.

…

If anyone were to ask what this thing is between him and Buck, Eddie would say that it’s casual. That’s the word he likes to use when he thinks of them. They’re sleeping together and it’s good and hot and mindblowing sex. But it’s also easy. Because Buck is uncomplicated, and he’s there again when Chris wants him. He loves Christopher, Eddie has no doubt about that. And most importantly, Eddie can get laid whenever he wants.

“Hey, so I was thinking about asking Carla to stay late this Friday to watch Chris,” Buck brings up to him one night. “Maybe you and I can go out to dinner after our shift. We could go some place nice. That new restaurant on Main St. maybe.”

Eddie follows his first instinct which is to laugh, because it sounds like Buck just suggested that they go out on a date. The look on Buck’s face says that he made a mistake.

“Wait, you’re serious?” Eddie asks after seeing the dejected look on Buck’s face.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Buck’s voice is low and strange.

“Because that… that sounds like a date,” Eddie says incredulously. “That’s not what you and I do. We don’t go to nice restaurants, we’re not—”

“A couple?” Buck cuts him off roughly. His expression has grown hard. “So what exactly are we?”

It’s a rare moment when Eddie is at a loss for words, but right now they seem to be stuck in his throat and he has no idea what to say.

“What exactly is this to you, Eddie?” Buck asks slowly.

“We’re just… good friends helping each other out,” he manages.

“Friends?” Buck demands, eyes narrowed and furious. “I’ve sucked your cock, I think we’re a little beyond friends, Eddie.”

“Jesus, Buck! Keep your voice down!” Eddie hisses, even though Chris’s room is on the other end of the house and he’s probably fast asleep at this hour.

But now Buck just looks defeated and hurt, and it’s the last thing that Eddie wanted.

“I thought this meant more to you,” Buck says quietly. “I guess I was wrong.”

“Look, Buck,” Eddie starts. “You know I love you, man. Just… just not like that. I can’t do that.”

Buck scoffs and looks away, which makes Eddie feel worse.

“I told you, a long time ago, that I’m not looking for anything serious, with anyone. It’s… it’s not you, Buck. It’s just that, I have a son to think about.” It makes sense in his head. It’s not like he’s sleeping with anyone else. He just needs to make Buck see.

“Okay.”

Eddie blinks. Okay? “Yeah?”

Buck nods. “Yeah,” he says softly. He slowly turns away, looking lost for a moment, before turning back, eyes glazed and hurt and unseeing. “I’m gonna go.” He says, pointing a thumb behind him. He starts gathering his things to leave and Eddie’s heart sinks into his gut. It hurts like there’s a knife buried there, twisting.

“Wait, no,” Eddie says desperately. “Buck, don’t leave—” He reaches for him but Buck snatches his arm away before Eddie can make contact. Somehow that stings more than when Shannon asked for a divorse.  

Buck is adamant about avoiding eye contact, or any type of contact at all.

He’s hurt. And Eddie hates that this time, he was the one to do it.

“I’ll see you later, man,” Buck mutters, and then he’s gone.

Eddie stands, alone in his kitchen, feeling more lost than ever before.

…

Hen, bless her soul, is the first to pull him aside and demand to know how he managed to fuck up such a sure, good thing.

“What kind of moron are you?” She asks after she listens to his side of the story.

“W-what?” Eddie sputters helplessly. “This isn’t my fault.”

“You are both miserable,” she says bluntly. “Why?!”

Eddie sighs heavily and agrees. “Buck looked like he was about to dry heave when I stepped into the station today,” he says sadly.

“You are dumber than a bag of rocks. Eddie Diaz, I’m going to say this once and only once. You. Love. Him.” She says, enunciating each word.

“Of course, I love him,” Eddie responds. “He’s my closest friend. He’s Buck. I trust him with everything—”

“No, you dumbass. I mean, you love him. He’s not just some rando hookup you picked up for a night. He’s not just a friend, he’s Buck, the guy who would rather die than see anything bad happen to you or your son. He’s the guy who loves your kid like his own. And, speaking as a mother, that is not something to be said lightly.”

“I know Buck loves Chris,” Eddie says softly. “And I never asked him to, he just…” His voice trails off, as the realization slowly dawns on him.

Hen raises a brow. “Let me ask you a question,” she says slowly. “Why did you stop looking for girls to sleep with? You stopped long before you and Buck started this thing between you two. So why? Why did you stop?”

“I…” Fuck. Eddie remembers the longing that he felt when Buck was with someone else. He remembers how much it hurt. Like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. “Anyone else just… wasn’t what I wanted,” he realizes.

“So what are you waiting for now, dummy?”

“I’m scared,” Eddie admits. “I thought that it would be too difficult or too complicated, or whatever dumb shit I was thinking at the time. I thought it wasn’t worth the risk. To me and to my son.”

“And is it?” Hen asks softly.

Eddie bites his lip. “If this goes sideways, I don’t know what it’ll do to Christopher. That kid has lost so much already. And he loves Buck to death, if this doesn’t work out—”

“Kids are a lot tougher than we like to give them credit for. I’m saying this from one parent to another. You can’t let that hold you back. You can’t let it stop you from going after what you really want. Trust me, Chris will understand. He probably already knows you’re head over heads for his Buck.”

Eddie laughs and bows his head. “Yeah, probably. I never did hide it very well, did I?”

“No, you didn’t,” Hen agrees.

“I think I was wrong,” Eddie finally whispers.

Hen’s fingers flex around his forearm, offering what comfort she can.  “Are you done being an idiot yet?”

Eddie considers it. “Yeah, I think so. I just gotta clear it with one more person,” he says softly.

…

His son is the most important person in his life. Eddie has so much to make up for. He was away for so long and he missed so much. And he vowed that he would never let Christopher down again.

But he has. Of course he has, he’s only human. But he keeps trying and he never gives up. And he figures that’s got to count for something.

For over two years, Eddie watched the relationship blossom between Buck and Chris. He watched as Buck doted on his kid, took him under his wing, and not long after, he started loving him.

Eddie now includes Buck’s name on his list of emergency contacts.

It took a little while longer, but eventually Eddie realizes that Chris looks up to Buck like another parent.

The moment really came when he peeks into Chris’s bedroom and sees Buck reading his son a bedtime story, one of Christopher’s favorites. Chris insists every night that Buck is there. Buck does the voices better than Eddie.

There they are, side by side. Chris’s eyes are drooping, no longer focused on the page. Buck’s voice is still animated and excited, though getting softer by the minute. And the look on his face, Eddies loves that look. Eddie loves him.

It’s a terrifying thought.

It catches him off guard. It scares him. Chris already lost one parent. Eddie couldn’t bear his son losing another. So he kept Buck at a distance. Tried to draw a line between what he had with Buck and what they had as a family.

Hen was right, he was a goddamn moron.

Buck was family long before he and Eddie got wasted and fell into bed with each other.

“Hey, kiddo,” Eddie kneels down by his son where he’s playing with his toys in the living room.

“Hi, Dad.”

Chris’s grin warms his heart and Eddie can’t help but smile as well. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

Eddie smiles at his kid, the shining epitome love of his life. “I want to talk to you about Buck.”

Chris’s grin grows wider. “I like Buck. Is he coming over tonight?”

“I like Buck, too.” Eddie says carefully. “So you… you like it when Buck is here?”

“Yeah, Buck is fun. And he loves me.”

“He sure does. Who wouldn’t love you, kiddo?” Eddie jokes.

“No,” Chris shakes his head. “Buck is special.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “And why is that?”

“Because you love him, Dad.”

Eddie freezes. He closes his jaw and swallows the lump in his throat. “Chris, how… how did you know that?” He whispers.

“The way you look at him,” Chris says easily. “And the way you act around him.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie presses.

“When Buck was hurt, you were really worried,” Chris explains. “You were sad and you were upset, and you would do everything you could to make him feel better. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Eddie says softly. When Buck got crushed by a ladder truck, there were moments when Eddie thought he was going to lose him forever. He was scared—terrified. Not just for Buck’s health and safety, but he was scared that his life could forever be changed because some asshole kid decided to play bomber.

And when Buck almost died from the pulmonary embolism, because he pushed himself too hard—that made Eddie angry. Angry that Buck risked his life and his health and did this to himself. And maybe if Eddie had tried harder to be there for him, Buck wouldn’t have felt the need to get back to where he was so quickly.

Apparently, Eddie didn’t hide this very well.

“When Buck’s not here, you’re sad,” Chris says softly. “When he’s here, you’re happy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. Kids make it sound so simple. He has a hard time remembering why he’s been acting like an idiot for so long. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“So you love him,” Chris says simply.

“I do,” Eddie says quietly, tears growing in his eyes. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course I am, Dad. Buck is amazing,” Chris says with a grin.

Eddie has never been so grateful that he has such an amazing kid. He still can’t believe he lucked out, that he has such a wonderful son. “Yeah,” he agrees, pulling him into a hug. Tears trail down his cheeks, but they’re happy tears. “Buck really is amazing.”

Chris smiles and lets out a soft laugh against him. “I love Buck, too, Dad.”

So, now Eddie has some groveling to do.

…

Buck isn’t surprised when he opens his door to see Eddie on the other side. He does huff in annoyance though. “What are you doing here?” He asks. They haven’t spoken since Buck walked out. Buck has avoided his calls and the texts go unanswered.

Eddie doesn’t answer at first. But he motions awkward with his arm and Buck eventually steps back to let him in.

“Look, I really don’t want to do this with you, Eddie—”

“Of course, you don’t,” Eddie says quickly. “We were always awful when we’re mad at each other. Over such dumb shit too.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Buck gives him an odd look. “Am I just supposed to get over it? I mean, I’ve had your dick up my ass, are we just supposed to pretend that never happened?”  

Eddie blushes. “Yeah, that’s not really a memory I want to erase from existence, so…”

Buck stares at him, stubborn and calm. “So, what exactly are you saying?”

“What I’m trying to say, is that I’ve been acting like a royal idiot lately,” Eddie says. “I did pretty much everything wrong. I didn’t think that I wanted you until you were with someone else. And then when I did have you, I didn’t realize that what we had was so much more than I ever gave us credit for.”

Buck stays stubbornly silent. But he’s not kicking him out, which is enough to make Eddie continue. “I need you to know that I love you, and not just as a friend. I love you like a partner, like Chris’s second dad, like a missing piece of myself, and when you’re not there… it literally feels like my life is falling apart.”

His breath shudders and he sighs, trying to get a hold of himself. “I am so lost without you, Buck. And I was such an idiot that I didn’t realize it sooner. So, please… I am asking from the bottom of my heart… will you give me another chance?”

“I always knew you were an idiot,” Buck eventually says. “I don’t know where Chris gets his smarts from, because it definitely isn’t you.”

Eddie grins and takes a hesitant step forward. “Yeah, I deserve that,” he says softly, and then he takes another step. “You’re right, I was an idiot.”

“I’m gonna make you take me out, you know,” Buck whispers. “You’re gonna have to wine and dine me, and I mean, the good, expensive stuff.”

“Whatever you want, babe. I swear.” Eddie takes another final step and then he’s crowding into Buck’s space, pressing tight against his chest. He leans up to press their lips together and Buck’s got that look in his eyes that Eddie knows all too well. The look that says he’s in too deep, he loves too much, and if Eddie hurts him again, that’ll be the end of him.

But Eddie swears to high heaven, he’ll do his best to never ever hurt this man again.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been such an idiot,” Eddie murmurs against his lips.

“You swear you’ll stay with me this time?” Buck asks. “You’ll try this for real with me?”

Eddie nods. He presses their lips together, again and again, like he can’t get enough. His fingers are wrapped tight around the other man’s shirt, and he can tell Buck is holding himself back. He presses his weight against him, pushing him through the small apartment until they both fall against the couch—the stairs being too much to traverse in their state. The intense heat of their bodies together opens all the floodgates.  

“I promise you, Buck. For real. You and me,” Eddie nods his head, his fingers fumble with Buck’s zipper, and then his own. “Like we should have been this whole goddamn time.”

When the clothes are off and skin is pressed to bare skin, they moan like starved men gasping for air. There’s lube somewhere in Buck’s coffee table drawer, and a box of condoms. Eddie presses his fingers into the hard flesh along Buck’s hips and buries his face in the crook of his neck. He sucks bruises into Buck’s skin, tastes him on his tongue and smells him in his nostrils. He can feel the other man’s pulse; strong, fast, and steady. He feels it rise and flutter as he moves inside him.

Their bodies grind together and the feeling is intoxicating; hot, sickly, and sweet. They’re reckless and dangerous and so in love that they’re sure nothing they’ve ever experienced even comes close to this.

They groan and pant and freefall toward climax together, limbs wrapped around each other, messy and uncoordinated. And when it’s over, Eddie presses his sweaty temple gently against Buck’s cheek. He’s gasping, struggling to catch his breath.

Buck chuckles softly, his hand comes up to wrap around Eddie’s arm. Their sounds echo through the apartment, a familiar comfort to them both.  

“I’m hungry,” Buck says softly, before Eddie has even pulled out of him. “You wanna grab some food?”

Eddie grins and nods his head.

This feels good, he thinks to himself, better than anything he’s had before. And this time, he’s going to remember that.

…  

Some time later:

“Chim, your brother is still here?” Eddie nods to Albert who’s engrossed in conversation with Buck by the bar. Eddie narrows his eyes at the serious look on Buck’s face. He wonders what they’re talking about.

Chimney gives him a strange look, perhaps surprised that he asked, and then he shrugs. “Yeah, thought he was staying a few weeks. Guess that’s turned into a few months now.”

“Couch-surfing for months, that’s got to be rough,” Eddie comments.

“My couch, random strange hook ups’ couches, Buck’s couch. That guy really knows how to get around.”

Eddie frowns. “Buck’s couch?” He knew Albert had stayed at Buck’s place once, after Chimney blew up at him. Not that it had happened again though.

Chim raises his eyebrows. “You don’t know? They hang out like… all the time. It’s fucking weird, man. If I didn’t know you and Buck got a serious thing going on, I’d be a little worried about Buckaroo over there taking my little brother’s innocence.”

Eddie gapes. “Are you serious?” His eyes fly around the bar again, not knowing what he thought he’d see. Buck and Albert look the same as they did twenty seconds ago, still talking by the bar.

“I’m kidding!” Chim says, laughing as he slaps Eddie on the arm. “Of course, I’m kidding!”

Eddie breathes in relief.

Until Chim continues, “My little brother doesn’t have an ounce of innocence inside him.”

Eddies doesn’t know how to approach this. He wants to know why he didn’t know—why Buck didn’t tell him that he was apparently close to Chimney’s estranged half-brother. He wants to go over there and find out what they’re talking about. How does he do that without coming across like some jealous asshole? His mind flips back and forth between playing it cool and storming over there.

Thankfully, Buck saves him the trouble.

He pulls him aside and looks hesitant when he speaks, which Eddie takes note of right away.

“Hey, can we talk about something real quick?” Buck asks.

“Yeah, of course,” Eddie says carefully. “What’s going on?

“Um,” Buck shifts uncomfortably. “You know how I kind of made you grovel when you came back? And I kind of emphasized how you were a total dick, who needed to beg and plead before getting back into my pants?”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah.” He remembers it vividly.

“Okay,” Buck admits. “So, I’m kind of an asshole.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Eddie chuckles.

“No,” Buck insists. “I actually am kind of a dick.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He clicks and swipes while Eddie watches confused until Buck holds the screen up in front of his face.

Eddie doesn’t know what he’s looking at. It’s his contact info, with call data, and all their incoming and outgoing calls.

“Eighteen minutes and twenty-three seconds.”

Eddie stares, blank and confused, until it dawns on him. He sees the call log. He sees the date and the numbers and there’s only one possibility. Eighteen minutes and twenty-three seconds that he stayed on the line. Listening. Like a perv.

“Um… I—I wasn’t—” He stutters. “I don’t know what—”

“Don’t be embarrassed, I knew you were listening,” Buck says quickly as he shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Um, I don’t really know how to tell you this, but… Tom wasn’t real.”

“What?” Eddie blinks and struggles to process. “Tom, your… ex-boyfriend?”

Buck looks genuinely shameful. “Yeah, he was… kind of, made up?” He says lightly.    

Eddie’s mind sort of short-circuits then. Because what the hell does that mean? “W-what?!” He sputters.

“I’m sorry!” Buck says quickly. And then he rolls into a tangent that Eddie can only hope to follow as best his can. “It was Albert’s idea, ‘cause I was complaining about how much I was in love with you. And apparently, I talk about you a lot, like non-stop and he was getting sick of it. And I think I was moping and pissing him off because he just wanted a drinking buddy. And then he kept going on and on about behavior theory and logical decision making and all this other shit that I don’t really understand!”

Eddie blinks and Buck continues, “He told me what to do to get you and I just went along with it! He told me to invent some guy and it would make you realize what you wanted all along… And that if I threatened to pull away, you would realize that you love me and that this thing between us—” He gestures quickly with his hands. “—is real. And it worked!”

Buck shrugs, a small, hopeful expression on his face. “Except now I kind of feel like a dick because I made you feel bad, and he said that I should come clean about everything and that you wouldn’t mind because you love me too—”

“Wait, wait, wait… hold up,” Eddie’s mind hasn’t quite caught up yet. “You lied to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Buck whispers.

“Tom was… was a lie?” Eddie tries to think of the evidence. He never met the guy, never even saw a photo. Buck just kept talking about him… “But the call…”

“Yeah, I kind of had a bit of fun with that one,” Buck grins bashfully. “Our first phone sex!” He tries to joke, but it falls flat when he sees the look on Eddie’s face.  

“You tricked me? You’ve been lying this whole time?”

“Well, I… I prefer to think of it as, I used dishonest tactics to persuade you…”

“The—the fucking… naked picture of you…” Eddie’s jaw drops as the pieces finally come together in his head. “You sent that to me on purpose!”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says softly.

“I cannot believe this! You—you inserted yourself into my life, lied to me for months, pull yourself away, and of course, I’m over here tweaking like an addict without dope! And feeling like the biggest jerk in the world!”

“Well, that’s a bit dramatic, I think.”

“Where is that asshole?”

Buck’s eyes widen comically when he sees the other man prepare for a rampage. “Eddie, wait!”

But Eddie’s already making his way back to the group. He doesn’t know what he’s doing but he knows that he’s furious, embarrassed that he was played so easily, and completely blind-sided by the truth. He can’t even put his thoughts in order to make a coherent—

“Hey, asshole!”

All eyes turn to him, shocked by his outburst. Hen and Chim are clearly confused, unsure of what’s going on. A second later, he registers that Buck has caught up to him. The expression on his face is oddly reminiscent of Scrat from the Ice Age movies that Chris loves watching. Stunned, sheepish, and a little bit of ‘did I do that?’

“What the hell is wrong with you?! You think you can just mess with people’s heads like this?! You think you can just treat this shit like a game, like… like some fucking chess game?!”

“Eddie, stop!” Buck pleads.

“Whoa, wait, what the hell is going on?” Chim asks.

“You fucking piece of shit, I ought to—”

Albert stands slowly, his hands held up innocently in front of him. Eddie breathes slowly through his nose. He can feel Buck’s presence behind him, ready to hold him back in case he decides to do something royally stupid.

“I’m sorry if you feel fooled,” Albert says carefully. “We had no intention to hurt you. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Behind him, the others stare, mouths gaping. “What is happening right now?” Maddie whispers.

“Eddie, please think about this,” Buck says softly. “Please—”

Eddie cuts him off by taking a step forward. They all hold their breaths. And then, to their surprise and his own, Eddie wraps his arms around Albert in a tight hug. “You are such an asshole.” His voice is tight and strangled. “But thank you.”

“Okay, can someone please explain what is going on?” Chim asks. “We’re kind of losing our minds over here.”

“I think we might need some more drinks for this,” Hen says, right before she and Maddie share a look.

“Amen, sister.”

Later, after everyone is caught up and thoroughly impressed—

“I studied game theory in college,” Albert explains.

“Glad to see you’re doing something good with that fancy education of yours,” Chim says sarcastically.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know about this,” Maddie says, incredulous. “Who knew you were such a good actor?” She smacks her little brother on the arm and chuckles at Buck’s yelp.

—and Buck and Eddie finally have a moment to themselves, Buck asks him, “So I can relax and trust that you’re not going to kick his ass?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. “I wanted to.”

“You had me worried there for a second.”

“Albert’s genius is what got me to stop being an idiot,” Eddie says softly. “He got us together, and you are the love of my life. I could never hate him for that.”

Buck makes a face, about to coo and aww at the ‘love of his life’ comment until Eddie continues. “You, on the other hand, you lied to me. For months. You manipulated me, made me feel like an asshole for hurting you. And this whole time, you were playing me. I think I’m owed some groveling now.”

Buck pouts and says, “My feelings were never a lie. I’ve been in love with you for years and I was getting desperate. You know, desperate measures and all.” His lips turn up a little and he wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist, tugging him close. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. Please don’t be mad at me. After all, I am the love of your life.”

Eddie grins and leans close, pressing their lips together for a gentle kiss.

“Yeah, you really are.”

Fin.

[pastelwitchling]

Michael tapped a finger against his file, glancing at Alex every so often, but the airman seemed preoccupied with his own work. Always busy, always looking ahead, always focused.

Except this time, he wasn’t really. And Michael knew only because of what he’d seen earlier that day.

He’d come to the hospital where Kyle worked to ask if there were any new developments on the research on Noah’s body, and as he passed a hall, he saw someone he had never expected to find in this cold, draining place; Alex Manes.

Michael came to an abrupt stop as Alex came out of a room, closing the door behind him.

“Private?” Michael had muttered and took one step towards him, wondering what the airman could be doing in a hospital, who he could be visiting, when Alex nearly stumbled and fell onto a chair with a wince.

Michael had stopped, his eyes widening as Alex’s angry scowl (he seemed to always frown nowadays) turned more miserable than anything else, and his eyes filled with tears.

The circles around Alex’s eyes were dark, he looked thinner than usual, as if he hadn’t eaten – had he always looked like that? Michael wondered – and as he hugged himself with one arm, his other hand coming up to hide his eyes, Michael realized Alex was crying.

He had wanted to run to him, to put his arms around him and tell him everything was going to be okay, as he had done with Maria and Isobel, but… this was Alex. Alex didn’t cry, Alex didn’t lose control, Alex never let anyone who he cared about know he was upset. Then Michael had remembered that Alex didn’t know he was there, and he moved back, keeping hidden behind the corner.

Alex had soon regained his composure, wiping his face roughly with his hands and slumping back in his seat, thoroughly exhausted. Michael had watched him until he’d gotten up.

He had expected Kyle to come into the bunker with some excuse as to why Alex couldn’t be there. But no, the airman had walked in as he always did, facing ahead. He sat down working as if he hadn’t been crying hours before, as if he hadn’t nearly collapsed outside a hospital room that Michael only now remembered he’d never asked about.

“Hey,” Michael said so softly at the same time Alex had closed yet another file that Alex didn’t seem to hear him. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Alex.”

“Hm?” Alex didn’t look at him, his eyes scanning the paper instantly as if he couldn’t and wouldn’t give Michael his full attention, as if afraid it would leave room in his mind for other things.

Michael searched for the right words. Could he tell Alex he’d seen him today at the hospital? In the end, he settled for a shrug, hoping it helped him seem casual. “Just thinking you might wanna call it a day.”

Alex’s hands stilled on the paper, and he looked up at Michael. His eyes were unfocused, twitching to Michael’s right as if he kept seeing something over the cowboy’s shoulder. Had Michael really never noticed that Alex was so tired?

“Am I bothering being here or something? Because I – I thought we were okay.”

“What – no, no, Alex, I,” Michael shook his head. He couldn’t believe Alex was so afraid of his words. Was he really that scared of losing him?

He wanted to reach out and touch Alex, to brush the back of his hand against the airman’s rosy cheek, to reassure him that he always wanted Alex beside him, but he didn’t do any of that stuff. Alex was the only person in the world Michael could keep himself from touching.

“You just – you look a little tired, that’s all.”

Alex searched his face a moment; Michael often thought that when Alex looked at him, he could look into his soul. Then the airman’s frown deepened. “I… so I look bad?”

Michael blinked. “W-what? No! Not – not bad, but –”

“Untidy?” He covered his face with both hands. “I must look so awful.”

“You look great, you always look great!” This was bad. Michael was starting to panic. Since when did Alex act like this, so insecure and embarrassed? It was strange how it made his heart ache. “Alex, you – you’re….”

“Are you hesitating because you can’t think of a nice way to tell me that I look… tired?” his voice cracked. “Or are you just tired of seeing me?”

“No, never, I – Alex, come on, you know I…” Michael’s words trailed off as Alex’s miserable frown tugged at the corners. The bastard was laughing.

Michael sighed. “You son of a bitch.”

Alex burst into laughter, his head falling onto the desk as his shoulders shook, his joy echoing against the dark walls of the bunker where laughter had not been heard in too long a time.

“You were so panicked!” Alex doubled over, his smile wide and tears were streaming down his face. Not the same tears he’d suffered earlier that day. These also came from exhaustion, Michael could tell, but they weren’t as miserable or afraid. “I felt so bad!”

“NOT BAD ENOUGH!” Michael snapped, unable to help the smile at his own lips. “You just let me keep going, Alex!”

Alex’s laugh turned louder, he sounded like he might choke but he didn’t care. “I’m sorry, it was so…” He sat up with a deep groan, wiping the tears from his face. “It was just what I needed.”

“Me flailing like a fish out of water was what you needed?”

“No,” Alex sighed, that beautiful smile still on his face. “I’ve been facing angry masks all day. I didn’t want to see you pretend not to care again.” His smile widened. “I got you to show me something real. That was what I needed.”

Michael’s grin faltered. “You’re so sure I’m always lying to you about how I feel?”

Michael regretted the words as soon as they left his lips if only for the way Alex’s smile dimmed. “I always lie to you. I pretend nothing you do gets to me.”

Michael held his gaze, his heart hammering in his chest now. “Is that why you were crying today? Because something I said got to you?”

Alex didn’t seem surprised that Michael knew. “So it was you I saw leaving.”

“Why were you crying, Alex?”

Alex’s expression faltered – it was only a second, and if Michael didn’t know him as well as he did, he might have missed it. But Michael did know him, so he noticed.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I was upset about something, and I… don’t think I should’ve been. And then I was angry for being upset, and –” he broke off, his eyes turning glassy despite the smile. He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat and shook his head, as if ridding himself of the urge to cry again. “I’m okay now.”

Michael did not believe him. He must have looked it, too, because Alex’s expression softened. “You want a tell?”

“A what?”

Alex took a deep breath, as if preparing to confess a long kept secret. “When I’m sad, and I’m really not okay, I’ll keep saying it over and over, even if no one’s asking. It’s because I’m trying to talk myself into feeling better.”

Michael realized he hadn’t responded in a long time, and he tried to speak only to find a lump in his throat. “D-does it work?”

Damn it, he thought. Why was he stuttering? Why was he so nervous?

Alex’s smile was kind, but he didn’t answer. He shrugged. “Now you know my secret. You’ll know when I’m really upset even when I say I’m not. So you see? I really am okay now.”

And Michael understood why he was nervous. Alex was trusting him with this. Even Kyle would have to poke and prod, and he’d never get the real answer. Alex was giving Michael his tell, Michael would be the only one to know the truth. Alex, who hated crying in front of anyone, who tried never to do it no matter the circumstance, who had once cried in front of Michael and stopped long ago.

“I’ll wear my hat low,” Michael said. “And I’ll try to hurt you. Not just anyone, I’ll really try to hurt you, Alex. That’s my tell.”

               Alex scoffed and he looked away, his cheeks red. “I already know your tell, stupid. Most of what you say doesn’t get to me.”

               They were silent for a long time, then Michael said, “I’m sorry.”

               Alex sighed as he returned to his file, his eyes sparkling as he glanced at Michael. “Yeah. Me, too.”

***

I don’t know.

[stydiaeverafter]

The Promise of Tomorrow

Pairing: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand

Characters: TK Strand, Carlos Reyes

Tags: Developing Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Start of Something New, Gunshot Wounds, mentions of overdose, overcoming pain from the past, Taking Chances, Falling In Love, mentions of trauma

Words: 2.5 K | Rating: T | On AO3

Summary: “Out of chaos comes such beauty.” Carlos re-lives the magical night he met TK as he lives in the horror of his reality. 

A/N: This fic was inspired by the finale and was my attempt to fill in some of the missing moments and thoughts by the characters involved. Thank you Junkyard Fam for inspiring me not to give up on this fic.The Promise of Tomorrow

The Promise of Tomorrow

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met

Carlos often wished he could go back to the night he met TK. That night in the bar with his bashful grin as he caught that twinkle in his eye. The moment they had danced together for what seemed like hours, then kissed for what felt like a lifetime, yet not long enough.

His mind kept going to TK’s husky breath up against his lips as they caressed each other’s skin; fingers exploring over new territories. The way TK’s talented hands had found his belt. A risk of pleasure. Carlos had wanted him right then and there in the bar bathroom. He’d never felt hunger like that before. It only magnified as the moments went on; a fire burning so hot that it was almost too hot for Texas. They had continued that exploration, but then TK’s mouth had popped open and he had whispered as he looked up, “Let’s get out of here.”

Those had been the moments Carlos thought of as TK had been rushed by him after he was shot. As a cop, Carlos had seen it all and then some. But seeing the man he was falling in love with, pass by him covered in blood and not moving, was something he wasn’t prepared for. Carlos had heard the bang from inside but didn’t understand why. Then as if he had been shocked, he understood the horror of it all. Carlos felt as if he had been drowning in a deep abyss.

How things could change in the blink of an eye.

The thoughts of what could’ve been kept replaying in his mind as he had hurried to the hospital. He had tried to push them aside as he waited. Waited too damn long for TK to open those beautiful eyes and stare back at him once again.

But he was living in a true nightmare, one he couldn’t wake up from. Because TK hadn’t opened those eyes. What if he never would again? The thought that they would possibly never be something, was something he simply couldn’t accept. That was the reality he wouldn’t face as he sat by TK’s side in the hospital. Without knowing what else to do, he softly said a prayer from his childhood and whispered, “Come back to me, mi amor. To us.”

He waited for days and days. Time lost meaning, but he never missed a day by his side. TK's Fire Fam stopped by daily as well. Carlos was grateful to start building relationships with them all. They were wonderful people.

Owen Strand had told him what the doctors had said. It was now up to TK to wake up. The Captain never lost faith. It gave Carlos hope.

However, Carlos was scared to hope just as he had been scared to let this man from NYC come into his heart and make it his own. He was falling deeper and deeper, and he just couldn’t get out.

Carlos wanted to close the door on the memories of the night they had met. He wanted to forget that sweet smile with that beautiful gleam in those green eyes. He wanted to forget the vision of that tan skin moving over those strong muscles. He wanted to forget those talented fingers and that delicious mouth with that tongue that made his eyes roll back into his head. But most of all he wanted to forget the moment TK had fallen asleep by accident in his arms and he had watched him sleep, which had been a gift and a curse...for that had been the moment he knew he had fallen in too deep.

He was about to walk away for good. He just couldn’t do this anymore. TK hadn’t wanted it. He was repairing his heart. Carlos knew if he continued on this path, he’d be picking up the pieces of his own broken heart soon.

No, he had to be done. This time he’d walk away.

But then he got the call. TK Strand had woken up.

***

TK hadn’t remembered much. It was all a bit of a blur; something that caused his head to spin in circles. He had been here once before, hadn’t he? He really did know how to flirt with death.

They had gotten the call, and he knocked on the door. That was the last thing he remembered. Perplexingly annoying if he said so himself. Weeks later, his eyes had opened up. His father was the first person he saw. The comforting feeling was soon changed by reality. Because that was when his father told him the truth, the truth that it was a child who had shot him.

He didn’t know what to do with that.

TK felt like a lost child himself sometimes and especially now, but he wanted to help the kid out. And then he did. In doing that, a piece of him was healed as well.

Pieces also had healed and glued together tightly when he had saved the woman from the bus. As he had been under the water alongside the scared woman, he felt a calm rush through his body. He knew this was his calling in life. His purpose.

He was here to save and help people.

His duty was far from over. Now he wanted to let everyone know it.

There was work to be done. He had been given a few second chances. He wasn’t going to waste any more time… in all areas of his life.

***

Carlos cursed long and hard as he sat on his couch rubbing his face. Why did TK repeatedly flirt with death right in front of him? That’s his job. Your job, too. “Screw that,” he said aloud to no one, rubbing his hair that was getting longer between his fingers.

It had been a long few days since TK had woken up. Carlos had been by his side when he had, well, out in the hall. But he had that moment of relief as he had smiled down at TK. However, that was shortlived when the face that looked back up at him looked like a ghost. Trauma would do that to a person, but he was scared he couldn't see TK in there anymore. Then they had briefly decided to meet for coffee, which soon had turned into a nightmare for a number of reasons. TK not only ended whatever they were but all but told him he was leaving. It was too much. But Carlos knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time. Then TK had raced inside that broken-down bus to be the hero, even though it killed Carlos to see that.

All he wanted to do was go to the 126 to see TK, but TK clearly had wanted space...he had said as much. That look of escaping had been sketched all over his expression when they had talked yet not talked at all. That was that.

But then TK had faced death once more and Carlos' world had again turned upside down in a spiral.

The truth behind the spiral was this: He couldn’t let TK go. He didn’t know how to.

If he was going to be honest with himself for just a moment, then he’d admit and recognize that he was very much in love with that firefighter. No matter what he had done, he couldn’t stop the falling. Part of him didn’t want to stop it.

Yes, they were casual with no labels. But that had clearly not stopped the process of falling so hard. He was such a fool. He was about to get his heart broken even further and all he wanted to do was to go check on him.

“¡Maldita sea!” Carlos swore again as he stood up, grabbing his keys, and leaving the last shred of his dignity on the kitchen counter.

***

TK had known what being vulnerable truly had meant as he exposed himself raw in front of his 126 Family. But it had been worth it. They had helped in his healing journey and it was like waking up from a dream.

He couldn’t leave this all behind. He wouldn’t.

His father might have helped to make this decision for him in moving to Austin and to start over, but staying was ultimately his choice. His destiny. Helping others was a path he decided to take years and years ago. And this group of people would help him achieve that path.

TK’s Fire Fam huddled around him squeezing tightly, too tightly, but TK embraced the pain. Welcomed it even. It had felt like breathing for the first time in what felt like forever. Even before he had his heart broken in what now seemed like another lifetime ago.

Heart.

Carlos….

His heart pounded as he thought of that cop; he was always on his mind. The cop that forced himself into his heart and mind only months prior. Carlos had been nothing but kind, loving and a decent human being. Something you didn’t see often; the whole package. And in return, he had done everything in his path to push the man away. Far away.

Now all he could do was think about how it might be too late. He was finally ready to let this perfect man into his life, let all his walls down. But yet he had to face the painful truth that the damage might’ve already been done.

People, good people like Carlos, could only handle so much of a mess. And he had been nothing but a mess since he had arrived in Austin.

But he wanted to be different. Better. For himself, for his brothers and sister, for the future victims he would encounter, and for Carlos.

Which was why at that moment he thanked his lucky stars as he saw that cop walking into the 126. TK’s heart skipped a few beats as he flirted once more with death itself.

***

Carlos had just acted on a whim. He didn’t think. It was like he was being pulled here by an unseen force. What he did was follow his heart.

His heart led him straight to the 126 Firehouse.

And as he strolled in slowly, he saw TK there with his father. He was so relieved to see that TK was okay. The man was putting himself and others through the wringer lately. It was just too much.

But it was moments like this that made it all worthwhile. Carlos planted his feet right there, not wanting to interfere with a father-son moment. He felt as though he had come here to make sure TK was healthy and okay. Carlos didn’t expect more from the guy. He had constantly put himself out there but he knew now that TK was a man that had been broken a bit by the world and needed the time to repair. Carlos was just going to nod and send him a final smile. He was going to try his hardest to accept this was it for their love story. A final chapter in what could’ve been.

However, fate was funny that way. A door wasn’t being shut at all. It was being opened. This much was clear as TK walked right up to him.

Carlos didn’t move, he was nonplussed but felt his breath quicken and his heart pound in his chest. He didn’t want to get overly excited, but then TK’s face broke his final reserve to pieces as he gave a charming smile towards Carlos.

“Well, hey there Officer Reyes,” TK said with that beautiful smile still on that face, imitating a southern drawl. “I’m glad you stopped by.” What he did next was something Carlos didn’t see coming. TK moved closer to him and wrapped his arms around his body, tightly, too. Right there. In front of everyone.

Carlos melted at that moment. His arms naturally made their way around the guy and he couldn’t help it as he kissed his neck softly. It was that unseen force to blame, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

TK kept holding on tight as they breathed each other in. Finally, TK pulled away and said with certainty, “Let’s go somewhere.”

“Anywhere,” Carlos replied back, wholeheartedly in love.

***

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” TK asked Carlos quietly, the only sound echoing was the chirping of the crickets in the background.

They sat on the Camaro and looked at the aurora borealis. It was remarkable and so beautiful. After everything they had been through, being here and now looking up at the sky… well, TK had never felt so at peace as he did next to Carlos at this moment.

“Let’s see, I cry easily at a good rom-com,” Carlos smirked as he rubbed his chin lightly, eyebrows full of expression. “Oh, and chocolate mint ice-cream is my favorite.”

TK shot a big grin Carlos’ way. It felt so natural always smiling around him, “It’s my favorite, too. And do you really cry in rom-com movies?”

“Let’s just say that While You Were Sleeping, gets me every single time.”

“Okay, we have to watch it together then!” TK added with a pleading puppy dog look.

Carlos laughed and shook his head, “Will you be there to pick up the mess that’s left of me during the ending credits then?”

“It’s a promise,” TK smiled softly. He stopped talking for a long moment and just stared at Carlos. He looked so stunning under that green-lit sky. TK felt the butterflies fluttering around his stomach as the smile was returned, with love. He was so grateful that Carlos hadn’t accepted his rejection. It had only been a mask. TK was so happy that Carlos saw through that disguise. What had he done to deserve someone like him in his life?

It was as if Carlos had been sent to him for a reason. Maybe to find the way to heal again and the gentle reminder he wasn’t broken. That he could give out his heart again and have it cherished by someone in return.

He had meant it when he had said they made a pretty good team. When they were together, there weren’t just sparks, they were able to fulfill their own personal destinies it felt like. Two sides of the same coin. They were in this together.

TK believed in that magic moment of them holding hands, that Carlos felt that, too. He brought his lover’s strong hand closer to his heart. TK squeezed tighter, wanting all the love he was feeling for Carlos to wash away any uncertainty there might still be between them.

It was confirmed when Carlos leaned over and grazed his soft full lips up against TK’s. His whole body shivered but not from the night air, but from the promise of tomorrow.