#trip is fine and made a full recovery and they got married so there

[timongerart]

Trip and T'Pol's Honeymoon on Vulcan

^^ for one more slightly NSFW piece

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: gun violence, hospitals, blood

A/N: besties, i-...just read the warnings (slight spoiler: the angst will be resolved)

Masterlist

Chapter 21

“How exciting is this! Last day of kindergarten today and then your seventh birthday party tomorrow!” you exclaimed, “My baby is growing up way too fast.”

You squeezed Jo tightly.

“Okay, I’m going to drop Jo off and then I’ll pick up the cake from the bakery, go grocery shopping, and get the decorations,” Spencer kissed you as he held up Jo’s backpack for her to slip her arms into.

“Don’t forget Mrs. Flynn’s gift. She had to put up with 20 rowdy kids for a whole year, the least we can do is give her some cookies and a gift card to Target,” you said.

“Got it,” Jo patted her backpack.

“Goodbye, my loves,” you gave both of them one last kiss before they exited the front door and you finished getting ready for work.

-

At the end of the day, Jo came marching out of the elementary school in the usual class line. You and Spencer came running up to her.

“There’s my big kindergarten graduate,” you bent down to hug her with Spencer following suit.

“I got a diploma,” she beamed, holding up the piece of paper with her name on it.

Josephine Y/L/N-Reid

Her officially updated birth certificate name.

“We need to frame this and put it up right next to Daddy’s PhDs,” you smiled.

“I think this occasion calls for a milkshake,” Spencer lifted up Jo.

“It most certainly does...and fries,” you agreed.

-

You had a row of picnic tables at the park all decorated with balloons, streamers, and dinosaur tablecloths. You and Spencer woke up extra early to make sure everything was ready for the time of the party.

You both had been repeatedly taking trips back and forth home to bring everything to the park that you needed. Jo’s friends from her class would be there as well as the BAU.

As people started to arrive, you handed out party hats to everyone. Derek attempted to sneak past you.

“Ah ah ah,” you held your arm out to stop him, “No hat, no entry.”

“Even Hotch is wearing one,” you pointed to Hotch sitting at a table with Jack, wearing a bright pink party hat.

“Fine. Gimme the green one,” Derek sighed.

Jo and her friends were having a blast. You ordered enough pizza to fill everyone up completely but luckily, the kids ran it off playing tag on the playground.

“Okay, cake everyone!” Spencer shouted to gather everyone around the central table as he began to light the candles.

Jo took the end seat with the biggest grin on her face and you stood behind her. Derek and Penelope had their phones out to record and take pictures.

Spencer picked the cake up and took a deep inhale, signaling that he was about to start singing, “Happy Birth-”

BANG. You didn’t even know what was happening. You quickly pulled Jo behind you, shielding her from whatever made that loud noise.

Then, you felt something warm seeping down your front. You looked down to see your white shirt quickly darkening into red.

Spencer dropped the cake on the ground, running over to you, “Y/N!”

You fell to the ground just as he caught you. You could hear the muffled sounds of screams, kids crying, and people running away.

“Hey, eyes on me! Eyes on me, okay? You’re gonna be just fine,” Spencer was grappling at your torso to find where all the blood was coming from.

“Where’s Jo?” you panickedly asked.

“Penelope has her. Hotch called an ambulance, it’s on its way, baby. Just stay with me,” he pleaded.

“Spence, it hurts too much. I’m sorry,” you cried.

“No, Y/N, please. Jo needs you. I need you. I can’t do this without you,” he sobbed.

“You’re the best dad ever, Spence. I currently have a mug being shipped to the house that says so,” you feebly attempted to laugh, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Spencer whispered as the ambulance pulled up with its sirens wailing.

As you were being loaded into the stretcher, you caught a glimpse of Jo crying into Penelope’s shoulder.

“Spence, stay with Jo,” you whispered.

“What? No. I’m coming with you,” he said.

“She’s really scared, Spence.”

“Y/N, this is not up for debate. You were just shot. I’m not leaving you. Penelope will bring her to the hospital waiting room,” Spencer insisted, getting into the ambulance.

Everything went dark after that.

-

Spencer was nervously bouncing his leg up and down, blankly staring at the hospital floor. Everything around him was a monotonous hum.

“Reid...Reid...Reid!” Derek snapped him out of his trance, shaking his shoulder.

“Penelope is outside with Jo now and she’ll bring her in in a second but we need to get you cleaned up first,” Derek said, guiding Spencer to the bathroom.

Spencer looked down at his clothes. Whatever emotional state Jo was in right now would definitely not be eased by seeing her Daddy covered in Mommy’s blood. Derek helped wipe all the blood off Spencer and then handed him a spare pair of sweats from his go bag.

“W-What happened?” was the first thing that Spencer said as they returned to the waiting room and Derek texted Penelope that it was all clear.

“Hotch and Rossi are at the scene trying to figure that out now. We think the unsub was actually aiming for Jo but Y/N blocked the bullet,” Derek stated.

“Oh god,” Spencer put his face in his palms until he heard a familiar crying growing louder.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Jo wailed.

Penelope was also teary-eyed but Spencer could tell she was trying her best to hold it together for Jo’s sake. She transferred Jo into Spencer’s arms. Spencer tucked the little girl into his chest.

“Is Mommy okay?” she sobbed.

Spencer looked up at Derek and Penelope before looking back down at his daughter, “I don’t know, baby, but the doctors are taking real good care of her.”

Jo continued to cry into Spencer's chest for about a half an hour until she lost all of her energy and fell asleep. Spencer looked down at his daughter’s puffy red eyes. How could he possibly give her any more bad news on her birthday? You had to be okay. You were supposed to be the perfect little family. This was supposed to be his happy ending.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” a surgeon called out.

“Right here,” Spencer spoke softly and slowly stood in order to not wake Jo up.

Derek and Penelope stood right beside him.

“Ms. Y/L/N suffered a bullet wound to the gut. However, the surgery went well and she is expected to make a full recovery,” the surgeon announced.

“Oh thank god,” Spencer let out a huge exhale that he didn’t even know he was holding.

“She has lost a lot of blood so she’s not awake yet but you are welcome to wait with her if you would like. She should be up within the hour,” the surgeon informed Spencer.

Spencer nodded his head emphatically.

“Garcia and I are going to head back to the BAU to confer with the rest of the team. Text us with any updates,” Derek patted Spencer on his back.

“Right this way,” the surgeon guided Spencer to a room down the hall.

There you laid in a hospital bed, still managing to look beautiful after nearly dying and a multiple hour surgery.

He took the seat beside you, still cradling Jo in his arms.

About 20 minutes later, Spencer’s eyes snapped up to meet yours after he heard a little movement coming from the bed.

You opened your mouth slightly to speak but Spencer beat you to it.

“Marry me.”

“Am I alive?” you closed your eyes again, blinking really hard, and then opening them to still see the same scene in front of you.

“Yes, Y/N, you are luckily very much alive and I don’t want to spend another second not being married to the love of my life. I stupidly let you go once and I am not going to let that happen ever again. You and Jo are my whole entire life, there's nothing more I could possibly want. So, I am asking you…”

Spencer grabbed your hand and slipped the ring off your index finger, then he knelt with Jo still asleep in his arms, clinging to his neck, “...if you will do me the greatest honor of spending the rest of our lives together. Y/N, will you marry me?

“Yes,” you cried as he slipped the ring back on to your index finger.

“I promise I’ll get you another ring as soon as we’re out of here,” Spencer said.

“Shut up and kiss me, Spence,” you cupped his cheeks, pulling him towards you until your lips connected.

“Mommy?” you heard a meek voice ask from between you both.

“Hi baby. I’m so sorry I scared you like that,” you said.

Jo untangled herself from Spencer and wrapped her arms around your neck.

“It’s okay, Mommy, as long as you are okay.”

A/N: i got multiple crying headaches while writing and editing this chapter

[writerman]

For the prompts, could I ask for elbarduil where Bard is a half elf like Elrond but has had to keep it a secret so Thranduil and Elrond don’t know and Bard just kinda forgets to tell them, and then one day after something happens to Bard and he gets hurt, BAM they find out and realize Bard isn’t going to die of old age like they thought, they’re not going to lose him.

I did not mean to write all 2,773 words today but I figured I had kept you waiting long enough for my sorry butt to get some motivation in me to write...

Thank you for sending in the prompt, I truly appreciate it and I very much enjoyed this request and now I want more half-elf Bard.

—————-

“He lost a considerable amount of blood I saw it all,” Elrond began, his eyes scan the courtyard until his gaze fell to Bard who was sat fussing the stable cat. He looked as he always did only tired. “I feared it was the end of him, Thranduil. He was pale and weak, my heart knew he would not see the end of the day…” Elrond’s voice soft now as he relived the memory vividly in his mind. 

Thranduil, however, looked unconvinced as he turned to watch Bard with narrowed eyes. Of course, his entire demeanour and excellent health left Elrond to look a little… off his mark but it was not in the lord to lie. 

“Yes, he truly looks close to death, all that walking and talking and laughing. By the stars, he is on the precipice of life and death. I see it now.” Thranduil received a gentle nudge in the ribs from Elrond and they both shared a smile that slowly dissolved into quiet laughter. 

“I am sure whatever it is Bard will tell us.”

“If he even knows himself.” 

“You are right. It is best that we only remain thankful he is still with us at all.” 

They remained standing under the archway that led from the royal quarters to the courtyard and simply watched as Bard took in the summer sun blissfully unaware that his husbands were inwardly perplexed at his survival. 

It was not until they mentioned his injuries over dinner that night did it occur to Bard that they had no idea he was in fact half-elven just like Elrond. 

Then and there would have been the perfect chance to tell them, to dramatically reveal he hadn’t been human this whole time! 

Cue random gasps of surprise and maybe some applause. 

But the moment was gone before he could even fathom how to word such a thing. Thranduil had changed the subject to Elrond’s subpar wine and a light sprinkling of bickering flavoured the conversation for the rest of the meal.

All thoughts of the accident and Bard’s miraculous recovery had dissipated now, the conversation did not come up again until Thranduil appeared one morning dressed to kill in robes fancier than Bard had ever laid eyes upon before. 

“We are riding to Lothlorien today, will you join us?” Bard, still in his everyday wandering around pretending-not-to-be-king clothes, paled for a moment as his mind raced and his heart started beating faster than a hummingbird’s wing. 

Lothlorien, where his dearest naneth resided. It did open the floor to Bard explaining who he was and it would be easier with his mother there to back him up, even though it was rather unlikely that Thranduil and Elrond would not believe him.

“Yes, I think a trip would be nice. Why are you heading out that way?” He hoped the question was as casual as it should have been. It must have been because Thranduil sighed and gestured vaguely in the direction of Elrond’s voice that floated down the hall. 

“To visit extended family.” 

More than you have any idea about, Bard thought but instead of speaking he merely offered Thranduil a sunny smile that spoke of innocence where there was none. 

With a silent order to change Bard got up and hastily dressed in something more fitting to see Galadriel and Celeborn. Meeting Galadriel was always such a jarring experience though not at all negative… just jarring and she was always so kind to him and not at all surprised that he was aware of elven customs, unlike Elrond and Thranduil had been. 

It would be near 6 hour trip from Rivendell to Lothlorien and Bard found the time passed with the blink of an eye. How long had it been since he had been there to see his mother and how long had Galadriel pretending she had not known he was there? 

Regardless of who did know, he was more aware of who did not and just how they might feel when he suddenly springs it on them that he was not a frail little mortal man they needed to constantly worry about every moment of the day. 

That wasn’t fair, they knew he was strong and capable but there were time Bard forgot just who he was and allowed them to coddle him even if it was only in the slightest of ways. So used to being seen as just any other human living among humans it was easy to carry on as one would. 

And no one had yet commented on how little he had aged only that he looked good and healthy which was enough for him because it was safe and if not a little bit pleasing to hear. 

They were greeted at the gates by Haldir who called for the entry to be opened for their arrival. Bard gave a hearty wave which the elf returned which earned him a few peculiar looks but it didn’t seem to bother Haldir in the slightest. 

“Elrond and I must discuss elven matters, would you like to join us?” Thranduil sounded bored before he’d even attended the meeting and Bard truly felt for him because he knew Thranduil would have preferred to be doing something more interesting than reminiscing about a time so long ago it seemed inconsequential. 

“I shall leave you to your important matters and I will find something to occupy myself with for the time being.” All he wanted to do was get out of his riding gear and drink something cold and sweet to refresh himself before he slunk off to find his mother. 

It would be a pleasant surprise for her to see him and the thought of seeing her joyous smile spurred him on and he set off for the rooms he was usually given when visiting, he was well aware they would already be ready for them. 

“I shall just go on without you then,” Thranduil called out after him and Bard threw a smile over his shoulder his dark gaze meeting with Thranduil’s pale one as they share a fleeting moment of humour before Elrond took the blond’s attention and they strolled in a leisurely manner towards their welcome party. 

It might have been seen as bad manners not to greet Galadriel and Celeborn but he was sure they wouldn’t hold it against him. After all, he was a human and could not possibly manage to ride 6 hours on horseback and then sit talking for hours drinking wine strong enough it could knock out a full-grown cow. 

Once in private Bard stripped over the leather riding gear and smoothed out his shirt and tidied his now wild hair into something more presentable for his naneth. The anticipation of surprising her was unbearable and the jittery excitement inside him had him pacing the room as he tried to cool himself and give himself time to slip out of the guest quarters unnoticed. 

-----

“They do not know about me do they?” Leithriel asked her smoky voice was coloured with humour as she smiled to the point the corners of her eyes crinkled. A true and, almost, delighted smile. 

“No, and it isn’t as though I was trying to hide it from them, it just never came up in conversation and it took me being gravely injured for me to consider that, perhaps, they didn’t ask me about mortality because they were afraid mine was fragile.” Bard had his elbow on the dark polished surface of her living room table with forehead rested in palm as he stared at his own reflection. 

“You surround yourself with sons and daughters that have lives as quick and as wild as a raging sea. I can see why you would not recall your own heritage when I see rarely see you these days.” Leithriel’s smile faded Bard could hear in her voice that she regretted her actions. 

“You belong in Lothlorien. You would never have been happy in Laketown or Dale without Da. And I would not ever ask you to join me there, we both know I won’t be there forever. One day I might even come here for good.” Leithriel arched a brow at him in question, she looked wholly unconvinced by his words and shook her head. 

“You would leave your husbands and come here to live with me?” When she put it like that it did sound embarrassing but it wasn’t what he had meant. 

He sat back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair hoping the action would ease his mind. There was a genuine fear that Thranduil and Elrond would be unhappy even angry with him for hiding this from them. 

While the logical part of his mind told Bard that he was being ridiculous he still couldn’t help but worry that it had been too long and that it would appear as though he had hidden it from them when that really wasn’t the case. 

“You will not settle here if you do not tell them now.” She was right, of course, and she knew it. “Before you go, I had something made for you.” Rising slowly from her seat with grace Bard knew he’d never possess, Leithriel left the room returning moments later with a package wrapped in pretty silvery paper tied with string white string. 

“I had hoped to send this before your next visit but now is a better time than any to give you this. You married so quickly that I was unable to offer this to you for the wedding but I suppose it will do as an outfit for dinner tonight when you are with Galadriel and Celeborn.” There was a quiet sadness in her voice that Bard wanted to ask her about but before he could he was urged by her to open the package. 

Not wanting to argue or delay what seemed to bring her joy Bard unknotted the string and let the paper fall open revealing neatly folded fabric. He set it on the table so he could stand up and when he lifted the first piece from the set it unfolded revealing a striking burgundy outer robe. 

“The first robe your father ever had made for him by elven tailors. He was ecstatic about it, burgundy and black and he cut quite a fine figure in it too, though he soon became a slight bit too round to wear it as he got older. Morvan wanted you to have it, ion nin.” 

His father had never been the kind of man that had been interested in holding onto his possessions and had always favoured skills over things. There wasn’t much left to keep of his father’s after he had died, and his mother had found it too painful to house anything that reminded her of Morvan other than his picture which hung proudly still on the wall of her library. 

“I want to put this on now.” Bard didn’t wait for a response as he strode from the room with the clothing gathered up in his arms. 

The black tunic and leggings fit perfectly and those garments alone made him feel so noble how a king should look. As he slid the outer robe over his shoulders the picture was complete and for a moment Morvan stared back at him instead of Bard’s own reflection. Those same brown eyes and wild wind-ruffled waves of dark brown hair he had been the very image of that man and how he missed him for a moment. 

Returning to the living area Bard felt he could not speak, the air in his lungs held as though trying to stay in the moment for a while longer, to hold the feeling of pride inside him for as long as he could.

“I- my eyes would deceive me I swore on the stars I thought you were your father.” Her eyes shone as she spoke and Bard released the breath from his lungs and crossed the room to embrace his mother in thanks and in comfort. 

When they parted she shooed Bard from her home with a smile but he knew there was still pain there and should he have lingered his appearance would only have made it worse. With a quick farewell, Bard crossed the courtyard and met Thranduil and Elrond as they left their quarters to go in search of him. 

“Oh my, we leave you to your own devices and suddenly you have a sense of style that may even rival Thranduil’s?” Elrond leaned in to press a soft kiss to Bard’s cheek in greeting and apology for leaving him so long. 

The sun had set and the warm evening lay before them with the song of night birds drifting through the trees. 

“Where did you go to find such clothing. This is the finest tailoring I’ve seen you ever wear and it has the Lothlorien style stamped all over it.” Thranduil slid a hand around Bard’s waist his excuse was to inspect the quality of the fabric but he was definitely just admiring how well it was shaped to his body. 

“This is the perfect moment to tell you that my mother gave it to me.” His bright and airy response was certainly out of character and certainly put on but rather than question the tone of voice both Elrond and Thranduil share a quick look before allowing Bard to continue. 

“My mother lives here and this was my father’s robe she said he wanted me to have it. Which means, as I am sure you worked out in no time at all, I am half-elven.” Had his heart ever beat so fast in his life? 

Silence.

More silence. 

“We know. We realised rather quickly when you were near death and recovered in record time from something that would have killed any normal man.” Thranduil drawled yet he tempered the tone with a smug smile, his hand still planted on Bard’s waist. 

“However, we were not aware of which parent was elven and if they were still alive,” Elrond added as he moved to Bard’s other side. “What we do know is that we are so very relieved you felt comfortable to tell us this and that you will be with us far longer than we could have ever imagined.” 

Bard felt himself visibly relax as he was led back into the guest quarters. What could have been a tense and uncomfortable moment was breezed through leaving Bard with little to worry about though, there was something else on his mind. 

“You know, it is all well and good me being elven and all but you do still have to meet my mother and she still has to like you.” 

The sound of wine being poured into goblets punctured the silence before Thranduil scoffed.

“I’ve not met anyone who does not like me.”

“Do you enjoy saying such ridiculous things to those that know you intimately?” Elrond queried taking Thranduil’s goblet of wine from the blond’s and handing it to Bard before Thranduil could even begin to take a sip. 

“Your reputation precedes you, meleth. You are a ray of light to us but from the outside looking in you may be seen as, ah, tad wintry upon first meeting.” It was a gently as Elrond could put it without dancing around the words and Bard was so wonderfully entertained by it all. 

“What he’s trying to say is, sometimes Thran you can really be a bi-” His words were cut off as a cushion hit him in the face. 

“Alright, alright, I am quite aware of what you are trying to tell me. It just seems to me that there is nothing to worry about. I am charisma personified when I need to be.”

“Well, I have never once witnessed that.” Elrond quipped now taking the second goblet Thranduil had poured. 

“You don’t seem concerned about meeting his mother, why are you the embodiment of calm?” Thranduil questioned now crossing the room to pour his drink out of reach of nabbing hands. 

“Oh, I am not calm. I am positively terrified but at the same time, I had to meet Galadriel and Celeborn once upon a time. I sincerely doubt it can be any worse than that.” 

Maybe not but Bard was not going to let them know, either way, it was far more interesting to see them suffer the unknown. Both of them never knowing when Bard might spring a meeting on them and leaving them wholly unprepared. 

The trip to Lothlorien was truly not a wasted one.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Something Wonderful

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: As you and Loki date, he finds more and more things to like about you. Warnings: lots of fluff A/N: Inspired by the song Something Wonderful by Seaway; I don’t know how I feel about this, seeing as it’s the product of two hours of sleep, but I’m just going to go for it. All the same, I hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Gif not mine  

It seemed to Loki that Midgardians were not worth his time nor his effort. They all went about their pathetically short lives scorning him. Besides, he considered them rather slovenly creatures. So many times he found the Avengers in old sweatpants and tee shirts just lounging around. Oh, sure, they did plenty of training too, but it’s not like that made them care about their appearance. Even when they finished, many of them opted to wait many hours before showering. And they were Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, for crying out loud. None of them ever seemed to recognize Loki’s disdain for these habits, often thinking the prince was just disgusted with them because they were mortals. They’d all gotten used to it at this point and just accepted the fact that that’s how he was. Loki was so close to being done with Midgard and begging Thor to let him return to Asgard. And then he met you.

When Loki first saw you, you were just Stark’s intern. One night you had been working late in the lab with your boss, and Loki, being the insomniac that he is, was wandering around the Tower. Bored out of his mind, he decided to watch in the hopes that something would blow up in Tony’s face. When you finally saw him lurking in the doorway, your face fell. Loki assumed it was out of fear, but then noticed you tugging nervously at your old sweatshirt. Upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn’t fear on your face. It was embarrassment.

A few weeks later, Stark convinced Loki to come help him test some new invention. This time you were prepared and opted to wear a nice sweater and jeans. Though, he noticed, you paired them with some Doc Martens, but it was surprisingly tasteful. He felt this was interesting for a couple of reasons. First, it was a total change from the last time he’d seen you. Second, he found his gaze wandering over to you throughout the whole test session. He had to admit, you were attractive, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you dressed up because you knew you’d be seeing him again. Curiosity got the better of him, and Loki decided to investigate. Any time you knew you wouldn’t see him, you dressed in a comfy outfit like the one from the first time you’d met. But whenever there was even a slight chance of bumping into him, you dressed up. Loki found that he rather liked that.

Sometime after that, Loki gathered the courage to ask you out. You’d been dating for months now and he was the happiest he’d ever been. The mornings where you didn’t have to go into work were his favorite. You did so well as an intern that Stark hired you full time. Loki was happy for you, and of course it was convenient that you two worked in the same place, but it was your alone time that he really cherished. If he woke up before you on one of your days off, he found himself just lying in bed, staring at your beauty in the morning light. Sometimes he couldn’t help himself and reached out to hold your hand. It pleased him to say that, even in your sleep, you always smiled at this. Though he couldn’t fathom why you felt so safe with him, he was glad you did.

Unfortunately, this peace couldn’t last forever, and you eventually had to get up. Loki always begrudgingly followed you to the kitchen where you had already started making a cup of coffee for yourself and some tea for him. No matter how much he begged you to come back to bed, you insisted there was simply too much to get done. He would eventually back off and let you enjoy your coffee. When work had been particularly hard the day before or if you were in the middle of a stressful project, you liked to put just a splash of bourbon in with it. You said it added a little extra something to keep you going. The one time you convinced Loki to try it, he immediately thought it tasted terrible. He didn’t really care, though, so long as you were happy.

In fact, your happiness was his number one priority. That was why he did his best to get along with the team. You had become fast friends with them, and it always upset you that they didn’t have a similar relationship with Loki. It wasn’t even that they hated him anymore. They were just different people. But, because it meant so much to you, Loki endured those insufferable nicknames that Stark came up with. He still thought they were all jerks, but you always thanked him for putting up with them.

One such thank you came in the form of a trip to your beach house. You’d convinced your parents to let you have it for the weekend so you and Loki could go on a little vacation. He enjoyed the beach and appreciated the effort, but his favorite part was just spending with you. Admittedly, you had an ulterior motive for choosing this vacation spot. Your favorite band was playing in the nearby city, and you’d been trying to get Loki into modern music for ages now. You figured this was as good a chance as any. He put up quite a fight at first, but ended up enjoying it.

Despite having the time of your life with your boyfriend, you caught some kind of bug after the concert. Loki came to your rescue and cared for you until you made a full recovery. It was the first time since you’d met that you had put no effort into your appearance for him. You stayed in the same yellow tee shirt for days, and even you were beginning to notice that it kind of smelled. Knowing that Loki cared about this kind of thing, you were worried about what he would say. It made him briefly think back to that first time he’d seen you and how much he’d hated the Midgardian garb. But for the first time in his life, Loki found that he didn’t mind. Anything was fine as long as you got better as fast as possible.

It was in that moment that Loki realized he loved you.

After dating for a year, Loki knew in his heart that you were his soulmate. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Thus, he planned to propose. He knew there was a time in his life where he never would have even considered it. In his youth, he would have scoffed at the idea of marrying a mortal, and more recently he would have felt like he’d been asking you to chain yourself to a monster. You’d been able to change his mind on both accounts. The only problem was, he had no idea how to ask you. He went to Thor to come up with a plan, but all of his ideas were way too over the top. It was Stark who came up with the idea of taking you for a night out to a quiet place and making a heartfelt speech before presenting you with the ring. Now that was Loki’s style. Not that he would ever admit it, but Loki was thankful for the idea. After weeks of scouring for just the perfect place, Loki finally settled on a brilliantly blue lake, not too far from the Tower.

Once there, you had a picnic, a little party just for the two of you. Despite preferring land, Loki couldn’t refuse you when you asked to take a ride in the little canoe you’d brought. He wasn’t sure if you were a little tipsy or if you just wanted some adventure, but whatever the reason, you decided to flip the canoe over. Loki panicked a little when you didn’t resurface immediately, but you were just lying in wait to splash some water in his face. After a petty water fight, that you won, by the way, you sat by the fire to dry off. You sang some of your favorite pop hits for Loki and hearing your beautiful voice reminded him why you were there in the first place. He looked around, making sure it was just the two of you. Satisfied with the results of his search, and ignoring the slight stench the water had left on the two of you, Loki started his speech.

He talked about how much he loved you and how much good you did for him. Plus, you two were the perfect complement for each other, and he’d be there for you anytime, anywhere. He told you of how he loved all your little quirks, like how you could talk for hours about your favorite tv show couples and couldn’t help but compare your relationships to theirs. He said how every day you reminded him of how much you loved him, making him feel less and less like a monster. In turn, his love for you grew more every day, and he’d make sure you always knew. Once he’d gotten that all out of his system, he got onto one knee and asked you to marry him.  

You just stared at him in shock for a second, and, just as he was about to panic, a huge grin broke out on your face. You leaped into his arms and told him that, of course, you’d love to marry him. He slid the ring onto your finger, and you shared a passionate kiss. For the rest of his life, Loki was glad he took his chance because the two of you truly had something wonderful.

[massivelycreepypineapple]

He Loves His Gimp

Request: Gynac Jensen anon here. Couldn't stop reading your work again and again. I just love it❤️ Hence came to you requesting another story. (Sorry🥺) Can you write one Jensen x reader where they have a big fight, she storms off, but while going, falls down the stairs and bumps into a wall and somehow her hand gets into a cast along with concussion. Jensen gets worrried and doesn't leave her alone all the time. After 2 days, for next appointment reader panicks while receiving PRP injection. All the fluff between these days. After few days, when her leg is better, next doc's appointment for removal of cast. Reader gets freaked out again. (Well I did freak, I had a full blown panic attack, my husband had to physically restrain me XD) so Jensen supporting her while removal process. ( I know I mentioned hand, but I wanted to request for leg, Idk how did I do that) Again sorry, I have bombarded you with such a long request. But write only if you want and are comfortable. Thanks ❤️

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy this! 

Feedback is welcome!

Word Count: 3032

❅ ❅ ❅

It had barely been a week since Jensen got back from Vancouver and in one week everything had gone bad. There was something happening with the brewery and as a result tensions were high. This in turn caused the the married couple to snap at each other often. The last couple of days have been really bad as Jensen and Y/N kept fighting non stop. It was taking a toll on her and she didn’t know what to do to help him. Every time she tried, he would snap at her and it would result in a full blown argument. This time was no different.

“Damn Y/N! God it was so peaceful living alone back in Vancouver!” Yelled Jensen.

“Oh yeah?! Well maybe you should’ve just stayed back then!” Shouted Y/N as she stormed out of the master bedroom.

With tears blurring her vision and blind anger consuming her, Y/N failed to pay attention to where she was going, causing her to trip on the stairs and take a fall. On her way down, she hit her head against the wall and landed with a thud on the ground floor. Her right ankle was askew and pain shot through her like wildfire as she screamed. She barely noticed Jensen run down the stair and crouch down beside her worriedly asking her questions.

“Y/N! Oh god! What hurts, baby? Talk to me!” He asked frantically.

“My leg and my head.” She mumbled out, her head feeling a little dizzy.

Jensen went to hold her ankle to take a proper look at it, the action only made her yell out in pain more. “Shit I’m so sorry, honey! I think it’s broken.” He said.

He pulled out his phone dialling 911, “Hi I need an ambulance immediately! My wife fell down the stairs and I think she broke her ankle and might have a concussion.” He explained, giving them their address.

Y/N was close to falling asleep but was immediately woken up with insistent pats on her cheek.

“Hey, stay awake sweetie. You might have a concussion and falling asleep will make it worse.”  

“Everything hurts, Jay.” She said doing her best to keep her eyes open. The tears streamed down her face quickly wiped away by Jensen.

“I know, baby. I know. The ambulance will be here in a bit.” He said not leaving her side.

“C-can I sit up?”

“Just stay still okay? You’re going to be fine.” Jensen said carding his fingers through her hair while he held her hand with his other one.

The paramedics finally arrived and Jensen rode with her to the hospital.

_______________

12 hours later they finally made it back home at 1:30 in the morning. The doctor insisted on keeping Y/N in the hospital that long to make sure her concussion cleared up. He put her leg in a cast and prescribed some pain killers along with strict orders for plenty of rest for the ankle to heal. Lucky for her it was a small fracture that should heal on its own within a few weeks if she didn’t stress it out too much. She was, however, asked to come back couple of days later for a PRP injection to accelerate the recovery.

Jensen carried her inside the house and placed her on the couch. He shut the main door and went into the kitchen to bring Y/N her medicines and some water. Y/N knew there was something bothering him. He had been quiet the entire time and barely looked at her. She was feeling more and more guilty especially after the fight they had this morning. Her thoughts were interrupted when Jensen offered her a glass of water along with the pill. She took it and returned the glass back to Jensen who took it back to the sink, still avoiding any eye contact.

He came back to her to carry her to their bedroom when she stopped him.

“Jay, wait.”

“What’s wrong? You okay?” He asked fearing that the doctors missed something.

“I’m fine, but you clearly are not. Talk to me Jay.” She asked worriedly.

“Y/N it’s 1:30 in the morning and you’re hurt and in pain, and I’m exhausted. Can we please not do this now?” He asked rubbing his face.

Y/N felt a pang of hurt go through her heart. She had really messed up with the fight. Jensen was right he would’ve been more at peace without her.

“Okay.” She whispered and allowed him to carry her up to their room.

_______________

That morning Y/N woke up late thanks to her medication that made her drowsy. The space next to her was empty and suddenly the events that occurred the previous day crashed on her all at once, breaking her heart. Her leg was throbbing and she was doing her best to keep the tears at bay as she sat up and placed her feet on the floor.

Jensen walked into the room with a tray of breakfast, “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked chiding her.

“I thought-“

“I was making you breakfast in bed, Y/N. Now get back in and relax, okay?”

She got back in bed and Jensen placed the tray on her lap and sat in front of her. “How are you feeling today?” He asked rubbing her knee.

“Leg hurts a little, but my head is much better.” She replied taking a bite.

“Good. Eat up so you can take your painkillers.” He smiled softly at her.

“Okay.” Y/N back smiled at him.

Once breakfast was over Jensen grabbed the tray and handed her the medicines. He then helped her into the shower so they could take a bath. He covered her cast with plastic to it wouldn’t get wet and placed a stool in the shower so Y/N could sit comfortably. He helped her strip her clothes and proceeded to do the same. Nothing was exchanged between them which was odd. There was this lingering tension and Y/N didn’t know how to break it. Her mind was racing thinking of ways to apologise, and just as he proceeded to scrub shampoo in her hair a tear slipped from her eye. Her sniffle didn’t go unnoticed by hm and he immediately crouched down in front of her.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He asked concern filling his eyes.

She shook her head sniffling some more.

“Then what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry” she whispered.

“What for?”

“I’m sorry I’m so overbearing. I’m sorry, Jay. I shouldn’t have pushed you with the brewery and now you want to go back to Vancouver to get away from me. And then I had to get hurt and you’re stuck here with me. I’m sorry it’s not so peaceful here.” Her outburst stunned him.

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry!” She was clutching onto him as tears fell rapidly down her cheeks. Jensen hugged her tightly to him, uncaring of the shampoo in her hair.

“Baby, you listen to me. I don’t want to get away from you. I’ll never want that, Y/N. I’m sorry I said that. I was angry and tired with everything that was happening and I took it out on you when you were only trying to help. It’s my fault baby. Vancouver sucks without you there. And I’m even more glad I’m here when you’re hurt. I’d hate myself if I wasn’t here for you. I already hate myself caz you’re hurt because of me.”

“It’s not your fault, Jay. It was a freak accident.”

“Feels like it is. I caused this indirectly.” He whispered, closing his eyes tightly. “God, when I heard you scream and saw you at the bottom of the stairs, my heart nearly stopped.”

“No you didn’t. I wasn’t paying attention. But I’m okay, Jay. Nothing too bad happened.”

“Yeah. Thank god for that.”

Y/N kissed him softly. When she pulled away from him she giggled.

“What?” He asked amused.

She scooped the suds on his nose left by her on her finger and showed it to him. He chuckled at that and kissed her nose. “Let’s get cleaned up. We have a busy day today.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked amused.

“Yep! A whole day dedicated to R&R!” He grinned.

“Can we watch The Lord of the Rings again?” Y/N asked with puppy eyes that she learnt from Jared.

Jensen groaned at her, “Fine, the gimp gets the final say.” He said earning a whack.

_______________

The next couple of days went by in a blink and the dreaded day finally arrived. It was time for Y/N to take a PRP injection. With lots of coaxing and promise of mind blowing sex, Jensen finally got her into the car and drove her to the hospital.

They were waiting for their turn and Y/N was bouncing her uninjured leg in nervousness. Jensen placed a hand on her leg, stopping her. “Calm down, Y/N. It’s going to be fine.”

“I hate you.” She snapped at him. “They’re going to give some stupid shot and I’m going to kill you.”

“Hey! I’m not the one giving the shot!”

“You made me come here!”

“You’d do anything in return for sex and you know it. You’re insatiable.” He grinned at her wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shuttup, Ackles.”

“Y/N Ackles” the nurse called out.

“You know if I wasn’t married to you now, that name would mean nothing!” Y/N whispered yelled.

“Haha, hilarious.” He said rolling his eyes. “Come on, gimpy. Let’s get you cured.” He helped her into the wheelchair and the nurse rolled her into the room.

The doctor made her lie down on the bed and got her prepped.

“We’re going to first draw some blood from your arm and then we will be transferring that blood into your leg. It’s so the extra platelets can help the injury heal faster.” He explained, making Y/N shudder.

Jensen moved closer to Y/N and she gripped her hand tightly. The doctor left the room for a while allowing Y/N to panic freely.

“Jay, I don’t want to do this!” She said frantically. “It’s not just one, it’s two needles poking me!” She said looking mortified. Jensen chuckled at her, “It’s not funny, Jay! Quit laughing at me!” She glared.

“I’m sorry, baby but it is a little funny. Besides, Y/N, it’ll be over before you know it. I promise, sweetheart.” He tried comforting her.

“You’re a jerk, Jay and I want to leave. Take me home, please!” She cried getting up.

Jensen pushed her back down gently and was about to say something when the doctor came back in with the stuff. Y/N was trying not to go into a full blown panic. Needles freaked her out big time and this was one of the worst things she’d had to do.

The doctor took a cotton swap with anti septic and cleaned the area making her flinch. Her grip on Jensen tightened and he kissed her forehead. “Just look at me, baby. Think about something else. Like what do you want to do this weekend, hmm?”

“I don’t know!” She looked at him wide eyed. Trying to play along but it was getting increasingly harder.

Just as the needle pierced through her she shut her eyes tightly, holding her breath in. She felt Jensen caress her cheeks with his thumb as he cupped them. “Breathe baby. It’ll go away.” He whispered.

“Almost done, Y/N” The doctor said smiling sympathetically at her.

She felt him gently withdraw the needle and she let out a breathe of relief when it was done. But that didn’t last long. She remembered the hard part was yet to come. The damn doc had to stick the little bastard into her leg and it was going to be 10 times worse.

She felt Jensen squeeze her hand, “Don’t think about it. Just keep talking to me ok?”

“Let’s go visit Jared and Gen this weekend.” She said, giving him a small smile.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He smiled widely.

Y/N and Jensen kept chatting and she didn’t notice when the doctor was near her feet. The needled pierced her leg just above the cast and she whimpered in pain. “Son of bi-!” She exclaimed.

“There all done!” Grinned the doctor.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Said Jensen smirking at her.

“Wipe that look off your face or I’ll do it for you.” She glared at him.

The doctor chuckled at her, “Well you’re good to go, Y/N. You just need to come back a week from now and we can remove the cast.”

“Can’t wait. This thing is itchy as hell.” You said, thanking him.

“And it smells” mumbled Jensen to himself earning a glare from Y/N.

An hour later they were back home comfortably cuddled up on the sofa. Y/N was flipping through the channels trying to find something good. Jensen groaned beside her as she changed it once more.

“Just pick one!” He exclaimed throwing his head back.

“I’m trying! There’s nothing good on!”

“I’m booored, N/N!”

“Urgh fine! You pick then!” She said throwing the remote into his lap.

He settled on some silly rom com, making Y/N look pointedly at him. “Really? This one?”

He grinned at her and she squeaked when he shifted her in a blink of an eye. She was sitting on his lap with her leg carefully placed so it wouldn’t hurt.

“What are you doing, Jay?” She asked suspiciously.

“Snogging to silly rom coms like teenagers?” The grin not leaving his face.

Y/N giggled at him, “You’re such a boy!”

“You love it.”

“Nahh.” She said with a cheshire cat grin. But soon started laughing as Jensen tickled her.

“Jay! Stop please!”

“Nope!”

“I’ll make you smell my cast if you don’t!” She managed to gasp out between laughter.

“Yuck! Keep that thing away from me, woman! That stench is poison!” He exclaimed with wide eyes, immediately stopping the tickle attack.

Y/N laughed at his reaction and kissed him hard. They spent the rest of the day snogging to crap TV.

_______________

A week later Y/N was back in that dreadful hospital room. She got her foot x-rayed and cleared for the cast to come off and she couldn’t be happier. Jensen was sitting on the chair beside her reading the stuff on the wall. Y/N was fiddling with her phone when the doctor came in with the equipments to cut open her cast.

When Y/N noticed the equipment, she freaked out. “W-what’s that? I thought you had to cut the cast open!”

The doctor chuckled at her, “This is to cut the cast open. That thing is too thick for scissors. We need something stronger.”

“Oh no no. You keep that thing away from me, she said in shock. She moved backwards in bed.

“You won’t feel a thing, I promise.” Said the doctor looking at Jensen for support.

“Y/N come on. This is the last time you need to be here. So let’s get this over it, huh?” He said gripping your hand.

Y/N watched in fear as the doctor got everything set up. He turned on the electric cutter and got ready to cut open the cast. Y/N went into a full blown panic attack and began thrashing around.

Jensen was holding onto her. “Honey, you gotta breathe for me. Look at me, Y/N.”

“No! No please. I can’t keep doing this, Jay! I’m constantly in pain and now he’s going to cut my leg! I like my leg!”

“Baby! He’s not going to cut your leg!” Jensen talked over her. “Look at me, Y/N. Open those eyes and look at me.” He pleaded.

Y/N reluctantly opened her eyes and looked into her husband’s green ones. It calmed her down for a second.

“There’s my girl.” He whispered. “I promise it won’t hurt.”

“Y/N, it won’t even get any close to your leg.” The doctor explained. “It’s just vibrations that will break open the cast.”

Y/N still looked unconvinced and stared at the monstrosity in his hands. Jensen cupped her face between his palms and kissed her forehead. “Do you trust me, Y/N?”

“Yes.” She whispered teary eyed.

“Then do this honey. It’ll be over soon.”

“O-okay.” She said taking a deep breathe and letting the doctor get to work.

20 mins later the cast was off and the doctor was checking her ankle once more. He then decided to put it in a brace since it was still swollen quite a bit and was painful.

“It’s going to hurt for a while, but I think it’s strong enough for you to start physical therapy. Just keep icing it and soaking it in hot water to bring down the swelling.”

“Thank you.” Smiled Y/N. “And I’m sorry you had to witness my freak out.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. I’ve seen people react worse.” He chuckled and left the room after shaking hands with Jensen.

“I’m sorry I was so panicky, Jay.” Mumbled Y/N looking guilty.

Jensen let out a booming laugh, surprising her.

“Why are you laughing?” She asked, confused.

“Y-you thought he wanted to cut your leg off!” He laughed harder.

“Shuttup, Ackles! It was scary okay! I’ve never done this before.” She looked at him grumpily. But she wasn’t really mad.

“Aww my poor gimpy!” He said pinching both her cheeks, making her swat his hands away.

“I’m not a gimp anymore!” She fake glared at him.

“True. I’m going to miss my little gimp. I could do whatever I wanted to her. But now she can limp away so fast.” He grinned cheekily.

“Ha ha! You’re fucking Robin Williams!” She said rolling her eyes.

“Oh the hubris! You’re not Robbin Williams, honey” He said his grin getting wider.

“Just take me home, you dork.” She shook her head at him fighting off a smile.

❅ ❅ ❅

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@hobby27 @akshi8278 @svmwinchesterr​

[path-of-my-childhood]

Collect Call From... TAYLOR SWIFT

Blender Magazine (final, unpublished issue from May 2009) // By Josh Eells

Each month, one lucky rock star phones Blender HQ for seven days straight, just to, you know, share. Now on the line: country-pop princess.

DAY 1: FEBRUARY 24th, 3:51 pm

Swift calls from Nashville, where she lives with her parents and younger brother. “I’m so happy to be home! I’ve been in Europe for two weeks. I got back two nights ago and spent half of yesterday sleeping. This is my only week off for months, but I categorize vacations differently than most people. I don’t care if I’m doing interviews from when I wake up till I go to sleep, as long as l’m in my own bed, that’s a day off.  This morning I went to some of the radio stations in town, said hi to program directors. Then I met with my stylist - we talked about tour outfits. And now I’m getting dressed for my brother Austin’s lacrosse game. He plays goalie - this is his first game as starter. His friends used to tease him about me, but now he's six two and built. I don’t think they make jokes anymore.”

DAY 2: FEBRUARY 25th, 4:14 pm

Swift phones from home, where she’s “lounging on the couch under a quilt” and playing with her dogs, Baby (a Doberman) and Bug (a mini Pinscher). “Austin did great! His team won, and he kept a bunch of balls out of the goal. Afterwards I went with my friend Emily to a Nashville Predators game. I did a commercial for them, so they hook me up with tickets when I’m in town. There’s a couple of cute guys, but I think they’re all married. I totally cheer and do the fang-finger thing. Last night they put me on the JumboTron, and you could literally see the wave of people getting up to come over. I’m still getting used to the fact that being stared at is part of my day - in high school it meant I had something on my face. The fact that my albums has been No. 1 for 10 weeks - it’s unbelievable. But this week looks a little questionable: The Jonas Brothers have an album out, too. Hmm.”

DAY 3: FEBRUARY 26th, 5:30 pm

Swift dials in from the road In Nashville, where she’s stuck In rush-hour traffic. "I just shot a video with my friend Kellie [Pickier] for a song we wrote together. It’s about ex-boyfriends. In the video I am kind of her trouble-making sidekick - I wore this strapless studded dress with a zipper up the front. The whole day I was afraid someone was gonna walk by and unzip me. It would have taken half a second to ruin my day. Oh, my God, last night I fell asleep on the couch watching CSI: NY. I was out at like 7, but at some point I dragged myself to bed, and apparently in my haze I turned the heat up to 95! I woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, with my poor cat lying on the floor panting. I made myself an ice bath and called my friend Emma in LA - she was in Superbad - and she kept me company for two hours while I cooled down.”

DAY 4: FEBRUARY 27th, 4:37 pm

Swift rings from the music room at her house, where she’s teaching herself how to play piano. “I’m still not caught up from my jet lag. Today I woke up at 5:30, ate same cereal and fell back asleep on the couch. I didn’t sleep long though, because we had rehearsal this morning. Kenny Chesney was rehearsing next door, so we chatted for a bit. Nashville is a really small town. I still live with my parents because I’m never home long enough to move out. And I don’t go to bars, because I’m 19 and scared of breaking rules. Besides Kellie and my best friend Abigail, who moved to Kansas, most of my friends are in LA. And boys aren’t even an issue right now. I categorize guys as “talking”, “nominees” - people you feel like you could someday date - and “dating”. Right now I don’t even have nominees. I don’t even have potential future nominees! But I’m used to being single. Before my last relationship [with Joe Jonas] I was single for like two years. It’s sort of my thing.”

DAY 5: FEBRUARY 28th, 12:50 pm

Swift checks in from her mom’s car with some medical news. “So, I’m driving to the doctors office. I burned my face with a curling iron! Don’t worry, I’m fine - I’ll call you after we’re done. [She phones a few hours later.] OK. What happened was, I woke up at 6 am and decided to curl my hair. I guess l was still asleep, because I slipped and burned my face under my right eye. It hurt really bad, but I didn’t think much of it. I edited and uploaded a MySpace video - unhindered by the fact that my face was melting off - and went downstairs, and my dad was like, ‘Oh, my God!’ I guess it was worse than I realized. So we went to the dermatologist. She gave me a prescription for some burn cream - I’m not sure what it is, but it has a lot of syllables. The good news is I’m expected to make a full recovery.”

DAY 6: MARCH 1st, 10:03 pm

Swift phones from Plant City, Florida, where she lust performed at the world famous Florida Strawberry Festival. “This place is strawberry city! When we landed, there were official Strawberry Festival minivans waiting to pick us up, driven by people in strawberry shirts. In the dressing room there were bushels of the most beautiful, gigantic chocolate covered strawberries I’ve ever seen. It’s like they welded three together! And this afternoon I met the Strawberry Festival Queen and her court. They were dressed in red and looked very sparkly. It was cold for Florida, like 55 and rainy, but everybody bundled up and had a great time. Afterward we had a police escort, which always makes you feel cool, and we’re taking a private jet, which is even cooler. On the way to the airport all these kids were trying to hurl themselves on our car - it was pretty frantic for a second. But thankfully no one got hurt. That’s why it was cool.”

DAY 7: MARCH 2nd, 12:50 pm

On her last day at home, Swift calls from her favorite couch, where she’s enjoying the view of Old Hickory Lake. “It’s freezing in Tennessee! It’s like 29 degrees, and I’m sitting here packing sundresses and flip-flops for two weeks in Australia. That and downloading movies for the 20,000-hour flight I’m about to embark on. I have three goals for this trip. One, get a tan. Two, go to the beach. And three, debut my new summer wardrobe. Oh, and four, play some good shows and make an impact on Australia! Ha. I don’t go into most situations thinking I’m going to win. I’ve never even won a raffle. These blessings I’ve had lately are more amazing than I could have ever imagined. We got the new projections today, and It’s looking like we’re going to be No.1 again. Does it feel a little sweeter this week? [Laughs] Yeah - just a little.”

[abitscrewystein]

Metal On The Brain

A rework of an old one-shot!

Warnings for: Blood Self-experimentation Self-harm Depression Separation anxiety Intrusive thoughts Trauma Hallucinations Heavy dissociation

The majority of the fight was a blur for him. He should have been more careful, thought through it more thoroughly. He should have factored in the sudden rainstorm that had passed only a half an hour ago. Marie was worried, he could feel that much from her soul alone.

The kishin egg they were hunting looked just as unsightly as the rest he’d faced thus far. In all, including those he collected with his previous partner, he had captured a hundred and twenty-five. This would end just as the rest had. They would stop its rampage, collect its soul, and move on.

He was only eighteen, even then only barely. Marie, his current weapon partner, was only a month or so younger than him.

The thing was about as high as a two-story building, bearing claws and jagged teeth, its flesh just barely clinging to its bones. Its spine jutted out like cracked spikes, only putting more strain on its already-stretched flesh. Disgusting, but he’d still enjoy tearing it apart.

He was angry. He should have listened when Marie suggested they take a while for him to calm down. He didn’t listen, and he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Any time he looked into her eye.

He glared up at the creature and took note of all the data present.

Blind bloodlust; Advantage to Stein Large equates to slow; Advantage to Stein It had rained; Disadvantage to both sides He was angry; Advantage to the kishin

It had eaten so many souls by this point that it had begun to go berserk. When it finally noticed Stein, its full attention was turned from its intended victim. Stein rolled his head, cracking the joints, adjusting the grip on his weapon. Not loose enough. Too tense. Too angry. 

He’d lost all that work for what? Some woman Spirit won’t last a year with. Damn that woman.

Stein charged the beast, using his advantages. His speed, delayed reaction response from the kishin. He was able to keep most of his friction on the ground, making a conscious effort to step on the drier of stones in the cobble street. He slammed his weapon into the back of what might have been a knee once and jumps back as the thing tumbles to the ground.

It would have been the perfect position, but there was one problem. He misread it. It wasn’t as slow as he thought it would be.

It backhanded him, like swatting a fly. Humiliating. Degrading. Taunting. The young meister flew through the window of a crumbling shop and slammed into the counter. He wishes he’d have woken up faster, that he’d come to his senses quicker. That wasn’t the case.

When his eyes opened he saw Marie, kneeled in front of him, worriedly looking him over. He had plenty of glass embedded in his back, and what he’d guessed to be at least a mild concussion. He groaned, his eyes finally coming back into focus.

Some part of him wished that they hadn’t. He saw the kishin’s hand —at least seven feet in length— reaching in through the broken window. Stein tried to reach out, push Marie out of the way, try to tell her to change back into her weapon form. Too late. Too slow. Not enough time.

It grabbed her by the head, dragging her outside. It held her daintily, taunting him as he staggered and nearly tripped over the edge of the window. He warped his wavelength, felt it buzzing under his skin, ready to send a burst of force into the creature. Too late. Again.

He felt his stomach churn as one of its claws stabbed through her eye. Popped like a grape. He still remembers her scream, echoes of a nightmare of a mistake. One damn mistake, one miscalculation, one stupid decision, and there she was. Hanging from its claws, passed out, tears streaming from her remaining eye.

He jumped onto its back, grabbing those spikes of bone and tearing across the skin with his charged wavelength. Its arms were long enough to grab him as well. Another miscalculation. Too much anger, not enough room to process before the fight. 

Stein grimaced, feeling its bladed claws slice easily through his clothes and his flesh. Agony. Marie. Rain, water, pain. Pain. PAIN— No! Think. Strategize. Rationalize. Where did it hit me? Concussion... Abdomen, chest, back. Metal claws. Metal.

He took a breath as far as he could considering the grip the thing had on him, and reached inward. His wavelength surged, crackling with energy saved from Marie’s own soul. The blast was more than enough to shatter its hand and make it drop his partner.

Another wound to add to the count. Sprained ankle, potentially fractured talus and metatarsal bones. A shockwave of pain shooting through his leg. Can’t stop. It wasn’t dead yet, and he only barely caught Marie before she would have hit the ground.

He set her down and dodged an angry swipe above his head. He grabbed onto its wrist and ran up its arm. Good thing he always keeps something extra. A scalpel. Versatile, small, easy to conceal. Easy to use, as well. It’s quick enough to slice across the kishin’s throat.

Stein staggered and fell when he hit the ground, the monster’s form dissipating and compressing until it was nothing more than a floating red orb. That was far less important than making sure his weapon partner wasn’t dead. He couldn’t lose another one, not so quickly after losing the first.

Once he had confirmed she was alive, he promptly passed out.

He was vaguely aware as agents from the DWMA came to collect them, the lights of an ambulance, hospital ceilings. All covered by a hazy, painless fog. All he could think of was Marie. Was she alright? Would she live? Considering his rather extensive wounds, he probably should have been wondering about himself as well.

When Stein was finally somewhat lucid —at least for his standards— he noted that his bed was next to Marie’s. The nurse explained that she’d been asking about him, exasperated and worried. He learned he’d been asleep for nearly a week. Understandable. Bodies need time to heal, and do so best when resting. If he hadn’t been asleep, he probably would have made it harder on himself. He hated doing nothing.

They stayed in the hospital for quite some time, though Marie was discharged earlier. She spent most of her time with him, quietly muttering apologies when she thought he was asleep. Why would she feel guilty? Why did he feel guilty?

Weapons are trained and willing to die for their meisters. How fucked up is that...

Worse than that, how could she forgive him? He was reckless, he lost her an eye because he was angry and didn’t listen to her. It was her. She was always there for him, always willing to help. Stabilize, quiet the insanity of his internal dialogue. She wasn’t afraid of him. He couldn’t blame her, really, she’s an incredibly powerful weapon. Named for the legendary Mjolnir. Though, she’s a tonfa. Not a hammer.

She made his recovery easier. She brought him food, helped him remember how to laugh and smile. Sort of. He could still feel the weight of everything in his chest. For the first time in his life, he regretted his actions. It was a disturbing new feeling, and he hated it.

He started getting anxious when she left to do other things. Fell into dissociative states, filled with anxiety at the lack of her presence. A doctor and two nurses ended up rather bruised, and he ended up strapped to his cot. Frustrating. Annoying. Too many memories. Something could happen. Anything could happen to her, and he would be helpless. Useless. Pathetic.

Of course, nothing happened. She would come back, same as always, worried when she noted his distress. There was something else, though. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe she was finally getting tired of it. Tired of his constant panic attacks when she would leave. When he would beg her to stay just a little longer.

It was such a relief when he was discharged. He didn’t want to go back to his apartment with her. There was a pang of overwhelming guilt when he looked her in the eyes. Eye. One eye.

He started to take missions more seriously. Controlled himself, though only barely. He slipped back into other old habits, instead. Finding animals to gut. Gouge. Slice. It felt... helpful.

He made her a Death Scythe at twenty-two. He was proud, more so of her than himself. They were a team, but she consumed the souls. She absorbed their power, something he could never imagine doing. He took some pride in his work, but he was more happy for her. What he felt for himself was... Fear.

What would he do? She was going to be transferred to Oceania. She told him she wanted something simple, something easy. As if life for anyone from the academy would be either of those things. Still, he told her to go, that he was happy for her, that he’d be fine. He was lying.

Stein found himself with random episodes of anxiety. Voices creeping around in the shadows of their now-empty apartment. Everything about those rooms was wrong, now that she was gone. It was too lacking. She’d brought most of the furniture with her, which made sense. Most of it was hers anyway, not really his style.

When he tried to ignore his emotions, the anxiety, the depression, they just came back stronger. He had no one to go to. Spirit was married, they had a daughter back when they first got together. So young. Not to mention, Spirit was terrified of him and his wife always glared daggers when he saw them.

He had to stop thinking about her. She’d send him emails, voicemails, which he started to ignore until she just stopped. Somehow, that made it even worse. He couldn’t get any of it out of his head. He needed a barrier. Something, anything to make it better.

He moved out. Bought some broken-down building with what he’d saved up. He busied himself, fixing it up. No one really came out there, so it was perfect for a man hiding from everything. A hermit. Closed off in more ways than one. He refused the offers from Lord Death to keep working for him. Finished several degrees online.

It kept getting worse. He kept getting worse.

He needed a barrier. Something between him and the rest of the hell in his head. Finally, after four years without her, without anyone... He snapped. The walls warped around him, his vision swam, his head was filled with images. Blood. He needed blood. No one to slice, no one to alter. No experiments to carry out.

He pushed himself into a corner, heaving breaths that felt like lead. His stomach churned, the whispers didn’t stop. He wanted it to stop. Needed it to stop. He stumbled as he stood up, leaning on the wall as he walked. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going. He could stop it. He had to.

It’s all in your head. All in your head. In your head. Something between me and my mind. In my head.

“In my head.”

He’d collected enough scrap metal for another hobby, made little trinkets and gadgets. He found something that seemed fitting. Ironic. An oversized screw. He had plenty of medical supplies —dubiously acquired— . Drugs, sutures, stitches, scalpels, pliers, bandages...

He spent so long in that over-lit operating room tearing himself apart. Putting himself back together. Pull apart. Stitch together. Over and over and over. Gave himself several more scars. The last of which was heavy and metal. He’s not sure how he survived. Maybe his soul was too spiteful to let him die.

That was something else, entirely. Altering his own soul. That’s something he doubts he’ll ever remember. He didn’t record it, didn’t take notes. Couldn’t, really. He could hardly breathe, much less speak. It was all so oddly numb but fascinating to watch, see his own blood pooling beneath him.

When he came back from the brink, he noted the mirrors. So many of them propped up everywhere, just so that he could operate on himself. He studied his reflection, his hazy eyes, the fresh stitches across his face and his chest and his arm. The moment he saw the screw embedded in his head was the moment he fled from his body. It felt like a camera had zoomed out to show him his broken flesh.

Somehow, he survived. Lord Death called on him, said he saw what happened. The shinigami insisted he continue working for the DWMA, if only to keep himself in check. He could run the lab like a clinic, if people dared to go inside. Mostly he did autopsies.

He adjusted. He got used to the occasional migraines, found that turning the screw readjusted his thought process. It became a strange little habit, but one he felt calming and helpful. He began to enjoy himself again, just a little bit, a new spark in his life.

Or in someone else’s lack of life. Poor Sid, someone he remembered from school. Stein hadn’t interacted much with the other students, but Sid was a good man. A good a person as any for such an odd experiment. Even if it was commissioned by Lord Death. A human soul and a corpse was an odd package to find on his doorstep. Never a dull moment, he supposed.

He had some fun tormenting those students for their remedial lesson. He remembered how good it felt to be in control, to be intimidating.

Things felt normal. He became a professor. He liked teaching.

Then a witch infiltrated the academy. She woke the kishin, Asura, from his eons-long slumber.

But that’s another story.

[keyders]

full name: montana kıvanç keyder (pronounced kuh-vanch kai-dir). nicknames: tan. gender and pronouns: cis man, he / him. age: thirty. date of birth: may 17, 1990. hometown: pleasance, ohio. nationality: american. religion: muslim. sexual and romantic orientation: bisexual biromantic. occupation: author & stand up comedian. living arrangements: lives with his family and a boarder (PLS GIVE ME THE BOARDER) languages spoken: english, conversational turkish. strange history: the death ranch.

trigger warnings: assault, death, injury, pregnancy.

this is the clown montana, but u can just call him tan. he grew up in pleasance but moved to seattle around 10-ish years ago to study law ( but also bc he had a falling out with his ex-bestie @kincadedonnelly​ which just made the decision to study out of state so much easier ) and only just returned last december!

tan is the middle child of three. he has an older brother and a younger sister. their family used to own a mom and pop store that has since then been bought out by alby and turned into the pleasance general store under new management in 2000. his father had since turned to various enterprises to try and support the family which included carpentry and being a delivery truck driver. his mother, on the other hand, took to music tutoring on the weekends apart from being a high school teacher. needless to say, things had been pretty tough financially on the family since alby took their business away from them.

growing up, tan was p much....mediocre. which was never a dirty word for him, but it was to his parents. it was actually their dream for him to become a lawyer, which he wasn’t exactly opposed to, mostly because he didn’t really have anything else in mind.

he had enough in the way of friends, played sports, did ok in school. wasn’t super smart but also wasn’t at the bottom. he just coasted by and it was fine. he was fine. at least he was funny.

when he was 21, he was accepted into law school thru a scholarship at the university of washington. it was the first time he’d ever really gone out of state, let alone lived away from home on his own.

but seattle treated him well. it was there that he was able to explore more of who he was and what he wanted to be—and really wanted to be—which was, to no one’s surprise, not to become a lawyer, but a writer. a storyteller. but knowing that he couldn’t come home without a law degree, he sought to finish his four-year stay and make his parents proud all the while harboring words in his journal as a hobby.

he was out drinking with his friends when he got into a drunken fight with another patron for some dumb reason he couldn’t even remember anymore even if he tried. it really started early into the night but then hours later when the group was set to go home, they had run into the patron and his friends outside. tan couldn’t keep his blasted mouth shut and the long and short of it is that he’d ended up in the hospital with a dislocated jaw, a broken nose, and a lesion in his brain after he took a crowbar to the head. he was on his last semester of law school.

which, of course, put a damper on his parents’ plans of finally having a lawyer in the family. and it took a while, but throughout the frustration of relearning how to put a shirt on or the staring spells he would have in the living room or the fact that he started having atonic seizures that required a service dog in his aid, he decided to see the silver lining coming about a year into his recovery.

meds were expensive and therapy didn’t come cheap, so when he submitted a column narrating his experience from small-town mediocrity from a turkish-albanian background to big city law school dropout now with a disability card to a local publication, he’d only expected the cash it came with in exchange for his submission; he didn’t expect an email from a guy who, as it turned out, was a pretty big tv producer saying that he’d read his column and wanted to meet up to chat about an ‘opportunity’.

said opportunity turned out to be a job offer. or, well, a trial offer— he was currently producing the second season of a show on comedy central and wanted to invite him on as a writer’s assistant. with no employment opportunities on his immediate horizon ( with the alternative being to book a plane ticket back to ohio ), he knew he couldn’t say no.

the job was not glamorous and the salary was dismal, but it helped him remember how to become a person again, this time in an environment he actually enjoyed. no more case readings, no more depressing internship hunts with law firms who didn’t want him.

as he became more and more immersed into the culture of the show ( and other programs in the network ), he was eventually given his own episodes to write, all the while making his debut on stage as a stand up comic ( which was a difficult feat to even try and muster the courage to face an audience, let alone an audience in bars ). shortly after he’d made a relatively dignified name for himself, he started working on publishing his first book, which he liked to describe as ‘part-memoir, part-fiction, 100% mediocre’ entitled ‘Stop and Smell the...’ which chronicled his experience as a small-town midwestern boy who gre up in an immigrant household and was then living in a big city with a condition that could very well be attributed to his big mouth.

and he was, by no means, famous. maybe not even quasi-famous. but his new life had allowed him to support his family back home especially when his father had come down with a mysterious illness that prohibited him from continuing work. on top of that, his younger sister had gotten pregnant and was then forced to marry a businessman in cincinnati just so she could raise the child.

his father finally succumbed to his illness last december and it was only then that tan finally came home to deal with the funeral arrangements. he took a sabbatical from work, with every intention of his trip back to pleasance being temporary, but it’s months and he still hasn’t found it in him to leave pleasance again.

extras:

he has been living with his family again and has no plans of getting a place on his own since this is just ‘temporary’.

yes, he also brought his service dog, dakota ( and yes, he’s montana and she’s dakota and they’re just quirky like that 🤪 ) with him to pleasance and he takes her everywhere. since the move, dakota has enjoyed the bigger spaces that pleasance has to offer and you can find the pair most often at the park or playing catch on death ranch where the thrill of getting caught has never gotten old since he was seven.

he’s bisexual and he came out in 2013. he’s always sort of known that he’s not just attracted to girls since he was younger ( as evidenced by the will-they-won’t-they relationship he had with his ex-best friend kincade fuckin rippp ) but he’s never really been open about that part of himself until then.

a serial dater and a serial flirt. also soooo so so needy.

he’s a taurus sun with an aries moon so he’s equal parts ‘date me uwu’ and ‘fite me uwu’

like his fc bariş, tan sports a half-sleeve tattoo on his left arm: (body image tw) click here for reference !! also a smiley on his right thigh, his siblings’ initials on his right ankle, and a small ‘K’ on his left hip.

his comedy is very hasan minhaj meets bob newhart: all the ~~~~woke millennial goodness of hasan wrapped with bob newhart’s brand of deadpan delivery sprinkled with a little bit of john mulaney’s observational humor.

[sundove88]

1-A And The Beast (MHA Beauty And The Beast AU Fanfic) Chapter Six: The Storming of UA Castle

Inspired by the Gravity Falls Beauty And The Beast AU made by @artsycrapfromsai

As Majesty ran through the forest, Nana Shimura guided the kids to a weak Inko, nearly collapsed in the snow. “Kids... You’ve gotta run! It should’ve been me...” she said. “Mom!” Izuku said, clutching his mother in his arms. “Lets get her back to your house.” Momo said, helping Inko onto Majesty.

Back at Izuku’s house, Inko made a full recovery, only to see that her son and his friends had been released from the castle. “It’s alright, mom. We’re home!” Izuku said, removing the ice pack from Inko’s face. “Kids!” Inko cried, as she hugged the kids and let them into her embrace. “You really did come home! I thought you’d never make it out alive!” Inko said, smiling.

Then she realized where the kids had been the whole time. “But the Beast- how’d you get out?” Inko questioned, “We didn’t escape- he freed us!” Uraraka said, smiling. “He’s all different now.” Melissa replied as she took out her book bag.

Just as they were unpacking the bag with Nana Shimura, Eri popped out of the bag! She had been stowing away inside the bag when the kids left the castle. “Hi!” she said in her delicate voice, waving at Inko. “Would you look at that. A stowaway.” Bakugo said as he let Eri run into Inko’s arms. 

“Hi there- I never thought I’d see you here!” Inko said as she held the little doll. “Look who we also brought!” Todoroki said as he took Nana Shimura out of the bag, her shining brown cover glistening in the light. Hello. Are you Mrs. Midoriya? She wrote down.

 “Of course I am! And you’re writing down all that?” Inko said as she examined Nana’s pages. Of course. You see- I was human once. I can’t talk, so this is the only way I can communicate. Nana wrote down.

 “Well, you certainly are a special book.” Inko said. Thank you. You’re making me blush! The pro hero turned book said, with pink appearing on the paper to replicate blush. 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and Kirishima answered it. “How may we help you?” he said. It was Stain, the head of the Home For The Reality Challenged! “I’ve come for your mama, Izuku.” he said. “What?!” Izuku cried. 

“Don’t worry, kiddos- She’ll be fine in our Home For The Reality Challenged!” Stain said. “This paper says I can have her.” Stain continued, flashing a grim smile. “Mrs. Midoriya’s not crazy!” Sero said.

 “Hey, Mrs. Midoriya! Tell us about that Beast you saw!” Shigaraki yelled. “Yeah, grandma!” Dabi teased. “Well, he was pretty darn huge, like, as tall as a tower tall!” Inko said, attempting to tell the whole story.

Toga died laughing. “Folks, you don’t get crazier than that!” She said with a psychotic grin on her face. Overhaul then faced 1-A and grabbed Izuku by the shirt. “Poor Izuku- It’s a shame about your momma!” Overhaul said. “A shame, indeed.” Replied All For One.

Oh no. All For One. Nana wrote down. “You mean that guy next to Chisaki?” Denki asked. Yes! He’s the one who cursed us! Nana wrote down some more. “But we might just clear up this wee misunderstanding- if your momma marries me. Just one small word, kiddo.” Overhaul convinced. 

“Never!” Izuku cried. The others agreed. “Have it your way, then.” Overhaul teased. Thinking quickly, Izuku grabbed Nana Shimura and he and his friends ran to the front porch of his house. 

“My mom’s not crazy, and we can prove it!” Izuku announced. “Nana Shimura, show us The Beast!” 1-A cried together, as a flash of radiant light shone from the book.

The villagers gasped and Stain drove away in his car when he and the villagers saw All Might, Who was making a scene and thrashing around in the West Wing. “Is he dangerous?!” Said a villager.

 “He'd never hurt a fly!” Tsuyu said. “We know he looks vicious, but he’s really kind and gentle!” Hakagure added. “He’s- He’s our friend!” Jiro finished. “If We didn’t know better, We’d think you kids had feelings for this monster!” Overhaul said.

 “He’s no monster, Chisaki- You are!” Izuku replied. Iida spat his water out at what he just heard. “Ooh, ouch.” Aoyama said, making finger guns. “They’re as crazy as the old grandma!” Overhaul cried, as he and All For One snatched Nana out of Izuku’s hands. 

“Give her back!” Koda cried. “No! The beast will take your kiddos! He’s gonna get them in the night!” Overhaul said. “That’s not true!” Sato replied. “We ain’t gonna be safe until that head of his is mounted on my wall! I say we kill the beast!” Chisaki cried, raising a burning torch. 

“We’re not gonna let you do this!” Tokoyami cried as he tried to grab Nana. “It’s either you’re with us or against us!” Overhaul replied. “Bring the old woman! Lock em up! We can’t let them warn this monster!” Overhaul said, and threw Inko and 1-A into the cellar, then locked them up.

 “What are we gonna do?!” Mineta cried as he pounded on the door. “We’ve gotta warn All Might!” Izuku said. Eri, being the clever little doll she was, spotted Inko’s mech and got a bright idea. “That’s it!” she cried.

Back at the castle, Present Mic, Mr. Aizawa, and Midnight had seen the mob from afar. “Holy Mackerel- invaders!” Present Mic cried. “And they have Nana Shimura!” Midnight cried. “And is that All For One?!” Present Mic yelled. “We’ve gotta warn Toshinori!” Mr. Aizawa said as he watched the mob come. 

“Kill the beast!” “Kill The Beast!” “Kill The Beast!” Shouted the angry mob as they headed towards the castle gates with a tree they had cut down to use as a battering ram. “Take whatever loot you can, but that beast is ours!” Overhaul said, with All For One at his side.

At the door, Present Mic and the other enchanted objects were trying to block the door from the invaders. “It’s not working!” Best Jeanist said as he pressed his hairbrush body against the door. In the West Wing, Midnight hopped up to All Might and alerted him with a puff of lavender.

 “Toshinori, the castle is under attack!” Midnight said. “Leave me in peace.” All Might said, “What are we gonna do, Toshinori?!” Midnight cried. “It doesn’t matter now. Just let them come.” The servants were then left to think of a Plan B.

Meanwhile, Eri had just started up the mech and was ready to pilot it. “Here goes nothing!” she cried as she moved the mech to the cellar door. “Back up, everyone!” Inko cried as she saw the mech approach. Eri did three strong axe swings, and just like that, the cellar door was open. 

“That was awesome! You guys should try it as well!” Eri said. “Thank you, Eri. Now we can go warn All Might!” Melissa said, holding the tiny yarn doll close to her heart. And in a moment, Inko, Eri, and 1-A boarded Majesty and set off for UA Castle. They were ready to break the curse!

Meanwhile, back at the castle, the servants were standing still, holding their posture as best they could. “Huh. A megaphone. Where did this come from?” Toga asked herself as she picked up Present Mic. “LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!” Present Mic cried, signaling the start of the combat.

The battle was on! Present Mic the Megaphone played songs at the highest volume, drowning out the cries of the mob and temporarily deafening them. “Too loud- Too loud!!!” Shigaraki cried, trying to plug his ears with a pillow. But said pillow slapped his face, with stuffing flying everywhere.

Mr. Aizawa, being the sleeping bag he was, tripped people over, while Best Jeanist gave them silly hairstyles while they were in a daze. Dabi tripped over Mr. Aizawa, only for Best Jeanist to give the hairstyle of a nobleman. “AAAAAHHH! I LOOK SO STUPID!” Dabi cried, running around the Great Hall.

Midnight, on the other hand, sprayed perfume in the eyes of villagers, her lavender scent overwhelmed them and made them scream. “AAAAAAAAIIIIEEEEEE! MY EYES! THEY BURN!” Toga cried, running around.

Mount Lady did some karate kicks, Buster the footstool led the mob astray, Kamui Woods threw the mob into the houseplants, Gang Orca the pool floatie splashed hot bath water on their heads, Recovery Girl and Gran Torino squirted hot sauce onto their faces, and Nezu as well as the Wild Wild Pussycats, who were stuffed animals, clawed at them.

It seemed that all the objects in UA castle were working hard to protect their home! At last, the villagers fled in terror. The enchanted objects cheered triumphantly. Plan B had worked... For now.

[sylvanfreckles]

Day Twelve: Belonging

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: (Sequel to Day 21 of Whumptober) Cas faces a long recovery after his grace is cut out to power up Naomi. Now it's Christmas, and they're meeting Jody and the girls for a long weekend together. Cas has a chance to learn more about his condition, and Sam has a chance to ask a very important question...if Dean doesn't beat him to it.

(The finale! You don't have to read the Whumptober chapter to understand this story, but it might give you more of a sense of what's going on.)

* * *

There was a brief moment of disorientation as Dean woke up, but it passed quickly enough. He was still jammed into the backseat of his car, with Eileen behind the wheel and Sammy riding shotgun, and Cas stretched out across the seat next to him. Cas was sitting sideways on the seat behind Sam with his feet in Dean's lap, slumped against the door with his eyes closed. Dean rolled his shoulders and tried to stretch inconspicuously so as not to disturb Cas, and caught Sam's eye when his brother twisted around to check on him.

“You good?” Sam asked quietly. “We're about an hour out from the cabin.”

“I think my knees are permanently locked up,” Dean groused. “How long was I out?”

“Couple hours. Cas fell asleep just across the border.”

Dean glanced over at the man beside him. “Yeah, he's not asleep.”

One bleary blue eye opened to study him and Cas tried for a smile that came across more as a grimace. “I'm fine, Dean.”

“Yeah, right.” Dean pushed himself up a little straighter in the seat. “What's the number?”

Now Cas was definitely grimacing, and he shifted uncomfortably as Sam and Dean's attention was focused on him. “Six.”

Dean snorted. “Which means eight. You've gotta tell us when it gets bad, man.”

Cas closed his eyes and let his head rest against the seat again. Even in the dark of the interior of the car Dean could see that the former angel was uncomfortable. Arms tucked around himself, slightly hunched over in the seat, muscles in his calves so tight Dean could feel the spasming.

It had been nearly four months since that horrible day when they'd gotten the call. Some anonymous tip from some bastard angel under Naomi's command, informing them that Castiel had been stripped of his grace and needed assistant. Hell, they hadn't even known he was alive again...the last Dean had seen his (angel? Friend? Something else?) had been pulled away by the Empty in a last-ditch effort to stop Billie from killing Dean.

But at some point Jack had freed him from the Empty. They had remodeled heaven. Jack had been full of big, exciting plans and wanted Cas to remain in heaven for a little while, while the kid scoured the fragments of Chuck's alternate dimensions for a way to restore his grace.

Then Naomi happened. Naomi and some twisted, ancient magic that had her sacrificing Cas's grace to turn herself into an archangel. They'd caught him (apparently Cas wasn't the only angel Jack had brought back), tied him down, carved sigils into his back, and burned his grace right out of his body to power up super-bitch.

God (or Jack or whatever) he hoped the kid tore her in half whenever he got back.

Cas had been left wounded, graceless, and human to die of exposure in the middle of nowhere. If Anapiel hadn't had a crisis of conscience, or whatever angels had, he would have died without Dean even knowing he'd been alive again.

So here they were, the four of them packed into the Impala, headed for a cabin Jody had rented to spend Christmas with her and the girls. It was still difficult for Cas to travel, as he was frequently wracked by spasms of pain that left him weak and miserable, but he was determined to spend his first human Christmas with Claire. And Jody had promised soft beds, a big fireplace, and a Jacuzzi to help make the former angel more comfortable.

“I think I need to move,” Cas finally said, after a few moments of silence. They'd had difficulty treating his condition—the closest human ailment was fibromyalgia, or maybe some sort of rheumatoid arthritis, but the flare-ups of pain and stiffness were short and intense. Keeping his muscles and joints warm helped, and sometimes some light exercise relieved the horrible, cramping spasms.

Even though they were only an hour from their destination, Eileen turned off at the first place she found. “I've got him, Dean,” Sam said before climbing out of the car to help pull Cas out.

Cas really was doing better, it just didn't seem like it in moments like this. When Sam was practically holding him up as they made a couple of slow, painful laps around the car, Cas's face pinched in pain.

Eileen twisted in the seat to look back at Dean and for a moment he thought she was going to ask if he wanted to drive...but he must have looked as exhausted as he felt because she simply held up a thermos. “Coffee?”

He let out a deep, dramatic sigh and reached for the thermos. “You are a life-saver,” he announced. “If Sam doesn't marry you, I will.”

She giggled at that. “He bought a ring.”

Dean had the choice between spitting his coffee all over his car and the woman in front of him or swallowing it in one painful gulp. “He what?” he spluttered, pounding his chest where the coffee, somehow, seemed to be stuck on the way down.

“He thinks I don't know,” Eileen explained with a fond look to where Sam was gently leading Cas through some stretches.

“Hell,” Dean shook his head, took another swallow of coffee, and passed the thermos up. “Maybe I should propose, just to give him the hint.”

Eileen laughed again and stowed the thermos in the front seat while Sam opened the back door to help Cas into the car. “What's so funny?” he asked.

“You,” Dean retorted.

“Real mature, dude,” Sam bitch-faced back.

Dean chuckled and settled back in the seat while Cas rearranged himself. Dean gave him a second to get comfortable, then pulled his legs back across his lap. “Feel better?” he asked, thumbs working at the cramped muscles in Cas's calves.

Cas nodded. He looked like that short trek around the car had exhausted him, but he also looked more relaxed than before. “My apologies for the delay.”

“Shut up,” Dean teased. He couldn't quite reach over to ruffle Cas's hair, so he settled with shaking the former angel's foot back and forth. “It's Christmas, Cas. You can have as many breaks as you need.”

Eileen was pulling back on the road as Cas leaned his head against the seat, studying Dean intensely. “And how many of these 'it's Christmas' excuses do I get?”

“It's Christmas,” Dean explained with a shrug.

“Dean...”

“C'mon, dude. Christmas.”

Cas switched tactics. “Sam, your brother isn't making sense.”

“He just means don't be afraid to speak up when you need something,” Sam replied.

“Spoilsport,” Dean couldn't reach Sam's hair, either, so he settled for tossing a balled-up hamburger wrapper at the back of his head.

Cas was smiling now—a tired smile, but a genuine one. “Sam, your brother is compensating for his inability to show affection again.”

“Well, Cas, that's just Dean being Dean.”

* * *

He'd been a little surprised that Jody had rented a cabin instead of having them all over to her house, or even packing them in to her cabin...but Dean figured their family had gotten a lot bigger since the last time they were all together.

Jody was waiting for them, towel flung over one shoulder and a welcoming smile on her face. “Glad to see you, kiddo,” she said, pulling Sam into a hug. “How was the drive?”

“Not bad,” Sam shrugged. “Dean?”

“We're good,” Dean called. He'd already helped Cas out of the car and was holding his arm out, bent at the elbow, so the former angel could latch on for support. That little walking break they'd taken had probably done more good than they realized and kept Cas's body from locking up on him. Just a few months ago Sam or Dean would have had to carry him out of the car after a trip like this, and here he was walking under (mostly) his own power.

Jody met them partway, standing at the top of the stairs with her hands extended. Cas transferred his grip from Dean to Jody and carefully climbed up the steps to the cabin's wraparound porch, letting Jody steady and guide him up. “Good to see you again,” she said when he reached the top, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Claire and the others will be back in about an hour, do you want to rest until they get here?”

Cas nodded. Better still wasn't recovered, and he didn't want to push himself too hard and end up bedridden during the long weekend.

“Come on. I've got a surprise for you,” Jody said. She held her arm out like Dean had and Cas took it, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Dean was following.

“Get the bags, Sammy,” Dean announced loftily, ignored the middle finger his brother sent his way. He hesitated when he saw Eileen, but she just smirked at him.

“Go on,” she pushed at his arm. “I'll make sure Sam doesn't break anything.”

On mostly reassured—Eileen hadn't been around long enough to become immune to Winchester Luck—Dean followed Jody and Cas to a bedroom just off the main central room of the cabin. “The other rooms are upstairs,” Jody was explaining, tugging back the blankets on the bed as she did. “It's probably more noisy down here, but we wanted to save you the stairs.”

“Thank you, Jody,” Cas sounded exhausted as he climbed into bed, letting the sheriff tug the blankets up to his shoulders. “This is...oh.”

Jody was grinning. She had her arms folded across her chest and a pleased expression on her face. “Early Christmas present. You like?”

Cas let out a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a groan and looked past Jody to Dean. “It's warm.”

“Heated mattress pad,” Jody explained. “Sure beats a half-dozen heating pads.”

Dean slipped a hand beneath the blankets and ran it along the warm mattress. “You're a genius.”

“Of course I am. Come on, let's let him rest.”

He hesitated, but Cas seemed content under the blankets and Jody was tugging on his arm, so he followed her out to the main room. “Okay, you and Cas are sharing, right?” she asked, moving back around the island that separated the kitchen from the main room.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean hesitated. “It's, uh...when he has a bad night it's better when someone's with him, so we just kind of planned it that way.”

“Look, kiddo, you don't have to explain anything to me,” Jody had pulled another towel out of a drawer and was gesturing at him. “You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, okay?”

He hesitated again and glanced at the door. Sam and Eileen were taking an awfully long time with the luggage, but maybe they were just enjoying some privacy before a big family weekend. “He, uh, he said some things. Before he died. And I just...I don't know how to handle it.”

Jody slung the towel over her shoulder, right on top of the first one she'd clearly forgotten about, and leaned toward him on the counter. “What kind of things?”

Dean wrapped his arms around himself and stared toward the door. Even after all this time it was still so real—the pain and loss from that moment, Cas's final words echoing in his head, the emptiness of the world that followed. “Like...feelings stuff.”

“Oh.” Jody walked around the island and tugged out one of the stools and sat on it, facing Dean. “Have you talked to your brother about it?”

“I don't know what to say. I haven't said anything...until now.”

Jody sucked in a breath. “Not even Castiel?”

“He was dead!” Dean scrubbed one hand through his hair, fighting the urge to turn away and hide his face. “He died, and I, I should have been able to figure things out then on my own, but then? Then we get the call that he's back but he's hurt, and-and he needs so much help now, and it just doesn't seem right.”

“Slow down, kiddo,” Jody caught one of his wrists and tugged him over, sliding another stool out for him to sit. “Walk me through this. What are you feeling now.”

“I don't know!” Dean let his elbow rest on the counter and buried his face in his hand. “He said this stuff and I didn't have any time to process it and he died...and now he's here but it's just so...it's not fair.”

Jody was rubbing his shoulder through his outburst, and leaned in close enough to wrap one arm around him. “What do you want to do?”

“Nothing.” Dean wiped his face and pulled away, trying to pull himself back together. “I can't right now, Jody. I can't...I can't ask him to make some kind of, of choice like that right now. Not when...not when he needs us. Too many people have done that to him. If we...if we can get him back on his feet, back to where he's able to walk away if he needs to...but not now.”

He hadn't realized he was crying again until Jody gently wiped a thumb across his cheek. “That really sucks, Dean.”

Dean managed a pathetic chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” He wasn't going to be one of those people who took advantage of Cas when Cas couldn't say no. Besides, Cas had to know that they'd still take care of him, even if there wasn't...something...there.

The door banged open, bringing in the cold wind and Sam loaded down with too many bags. “Finally,” Dean complained, spinning around on the stool. “What took you guys so long?”

Sam huffed and very pointedly dropped Dean's bag on the floor right in front of the door. “I'm taking the rest of this upstairs. Jody, which one's our room?”

“I'll show you,” Jody offered.

Dean looked past Sam to Eileen, who was loitering by the door. He raised his eyebrows in question and she held up her left hand with a shake of the head. Still no proposal.

Damn. What was taking that kid so long?

* * *

“Hey, buddy, you awake?” Dean crouched beside the bed, gently ruffling Cas's hair. The former angel stretched like a contented cat and blinked up at him.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey there,” Dean replied, grinning. “You look rested.”

“It's so warm.” Ever since his return, Cas had so much trouble just staying warm. Back at the bunker  they practically kept a constant rotation of hot water bottles in play for him to tuck under his sweatshirt or to wrap in his blankets. So seeing him this comfortable and relaxed made something deep in Dean's heart unwind just a little.

“The girls are here. Wanna say hi? Get some dinner?”

Cas grunted and pushed the blankets back, twisting to get his feet under him. His clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them, but didn't seem to notice as he pushed himself up. “Claire's here?”

“First one in the door,” Dean replied. He held his arm out to steady Cas as they made their way through the bedroom to the main room. “She and Eileen are swapping werewolf stories.”

He helped Cas out of the room and gently lead him over to one of the stools at the counter. Jody—with a third towel now, on her other shoulder—was whisking up waffle batter in a big red bowl in the kitchen.

“Cas!” Claire pulled away from Eileen as soon as she saw the former angel. She hesitated for a second, but when he held an arm out to her she gladly went in for a hug. “You came!”

“Of course,” Cas replied. When Claire pulled away he seemed reluctant to release her, gently brushing her blonde hair behind her shoulders. “How are you?”

Claire shrugged. “Still kicking ass.”

“Hell yeah!” Dean announced, giving the kid a high-five.

Cas was smiling—it was a small, tired smile, but it was genuine. “Claire...your parents send their love.”

Claire froze. “You saw them?”

“I did some work in Heaven, before...anyway, they wanted you to know that they're proud of you.”

Claire's face went red, then white. “You told them about me?”

Cas nodded. “Of course. They can't wait to meet Kaia.”

“Oh my god,” Claire moaned, burying her face in her hands.

“Hey,” Dean bumped her with his hip. “Pretty sure he's technically your step-brother now.”

She punched his arm. “Shut up, Dean!”

“No fighting,” Jody announced. “Patience, honey, did you find the wafflemaker?”

Patience reluctantly left her conversation with Sam—probably about SATs and college scholarships and Harvard or something—to help Jody lug an ancient Black & Decker monstrosity out of a box on the counter.

“Anyway,” Claire cleared her throat, neck still flushed with embarrassment. “You look good. I like this,” she added, trailing her fingers through Cas's hair. It was flecked with gray now. Sam thought it was from the trauma done on his vessel when his grace was burned out.

Cas leaned away from her touch, brushing his own hand over his hair self-consciously. “I'm not accustomed to my vessel's appearance changing.”

“Hey, I like the gray!” Jody piped in, gesturing to her own silvery pixie cut. “It's very...paternal.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Jody!” Dean snorted, earning him another punch from Claire. “Anyway, it's good.”

She probably meant that Cas didn't really look like Jimmy anymore. Pain and trauma had etched lines in his face and gray in his hair. As though sensing his train of thought Cas leaned into Dean, and Dean wrapped an arm behind his back.

Kaia joined them, slipping an arm around Claire's and resting her head on the blonde girl's shoulders. They moved to the side to whisper about something between themselves, and Dean could see Eileen and Sam talking to Alex near one of the couches in the main room.

“Where's Donna?” he asked.

“She'll be here in the morning,” Jody replied. “Spending Christmas Eve with her brother tonight.”

Cas shifted against Dean, and he moved his arm up. Sometimes touching the scars left by the sigils hurt. “So, T-minus what until waffles?”

Jody let out an exaggerated huff and tossed a fourth towel over her shoulder—same side as the first two. “Never if you don't get your butt in here and help out. We need fruit chopped and eggs scrambled, and for the love of god somebody get the bacon.”

Dean let out a laugh and pulled away from Cas, only for the former angel to grab his sleeve.

“Dean?”

His heart dropped. That was the voice...the pale, scared voice that meant something bad was happening. He managed to get his arms around Cas in time to cushion his fall to the ground, as Cas suddenly curled in on himself in a full-body spasm of pain.

Someone swore behind him—he thought it was Jody, but when she started calling Sam he realized it must have been Patience. Cas shuddered in his grasp, arms wrapped around himself tight enough to bruise.

“Back up, come on,” Sam was wading in, flapping his giant moose arms to move the girls away from the kitchen. Cas let out a moan and buried his face in Dean's shoulder, shame adding to the pain riding up and down his body.

“I've got you, Cas,” Dean murmured. He ran his hand up and down his friend's arm, as though he could physically hold him together. “It's gonna pass. It always passes. You'll be okay.”

Sam crouched in front of them, his sheer size blocking the rest of the room from view. “We're right here, Cas,” he added, one hand on Cas's knee.

Cas tried to curl further into Dean, as though seeking whatever comfort or warmth the hunter could offer. Dean closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to the top of Cas's head—all they could do was reassure him, hold him where it wouldn't hurt, remind him he wasn't alone.

It wasn't fair. He'd been having such a good day.

“Right here, buddy,” Dean repeated. Cas was breathing in sharp, pained jerks, like even his lungs were spasming under the onslaught. “You're all right. We're not leaving.”

Finally...finally...the awful spasms slowed. Dean knew it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes, but it always felt like hours. Cas let out a moan and shifted away, awkwardly dragging up a hand to wipe at his eyes.

Dean's heart broke a little more.

“Sam?” Alex was standing behind Sam, a first-aide kit in her hands. “Can I check on him?”

“He's all right,” Dean tried to protest, but Sam had already backed away so the young woman could take his place. Alex gently picked up one of Cas's wrists to feel his pulse, then pulled a small penlight out to check his eyes.

“How long are his seizures usually?” she asked.

“Seizures?” Dean shook his head. “What are you talking about? That wasn't a seizure.”

“We did rounds with a neurosurgeon last semester,” Alex explained. “They don't always look like they do on TV. I'd have to looks some things up, but it looked like a seizure to me.”

For the first time since Cas had come back, Dean could see the thinnest thread of an answer. Seizures could be treated, right? It wasn't everything Cas was dealing with, but if they could stop these attacks...

“It was less than three minutes,” Alex was saying. “If Castiel normally recovers from them just fine he'll be okay, but maybe you should think about going to a neurologist.”

Dean nodded, looking back down at the man he was holding. Cas had let his head drop back to Dean's shoulder, closing his eyes in obvious exhaustion.

“Thanks, Alex,” Sam said, helping Dean struggle to his feet with Cas in his arms. “We'll check that out.”

* * *

“The world can end now. I'm never leaving this bed.” Dean wiggled his toes under the blankets, relaxing in the luxuriant warmth of Cas's new heated mattress pad. “Jody is a genius.”

Cas, for his part, was quiet. He was curled on his side, watching Dean. Last night had been one of the bad ones—they usually were, right after an attack like that. Nightmares and night terrors were par for the course for their line of work, but Cas had once confessed he sometimes woke up thinking he was still tied down to the altar. Even now, months later, he'd scream out in his sleep and try to claw his way out of the blankets.

When Dean was with him—or Sam or Eileen—it was easier to remember where he was.

“This was my Christmas present, Dean,” he finally said after a few minutes.

“So? You can share.”

“Don't you want to see what Jody got you?”

That got Dean moving. He flipped the covers back and went for his bag, tossing clothes over his shoulder to the bed behind him. Cas got up more slowly, still stiff from the attack the night before. He was slowly pulling on a pair of baggy jeans and an oversized hooded sweatshirt when Dean turned back around, trying to tug on his jeans and henley at the same time.

“Come on,” Dean said, as soon as he was decent. Cas seemed steadier on his feet today, so he only needed a hand on Dean's shoulder for balance. “Sam might open everything without us.”

Sam hadn't, of course. And they'd had to wait for Donna, and then wait for breakfast (to Dean's relief, Jody had remembered to bring Cas-friendly food, and while the rest of them ate deliciously greasy hashbrown casserole Cas actually managed a full plate of cottage cheese and fruit).

Then there was the battle. Chucking balled-up wrapping paper at Claire every time she made a sassy comment, making Sam wear the Santa hat to actually hand out the gifts. Donna had given Cas a big, fleece blanket in a blue that almost matched his old tie, and he'd immediately wrapped himself up in it and dozed off in his armchair.

Dean had kept an eye on his brother throughout the morning. Christmas was the perfect chance to propose, right? It was the shit Hallmark movies were made of. But Sam just stood there, seven shades of awkward, one hand jammed in his pocket and his big moose eyes all sad and wistful.

“For the love of...” Dean grumbled. He shoved himself up to his feet—maybe it was time to stop sitting on the floor—and caught Eileen's hand as she passed by. He sank down to one knee, looking up at her seriously. “Eileen. You've probably been the best thing that's happened to my brother in his entire life. So I'm asking for him...will you marry Sam?”

There was a squeal from one of the girls, an enraged shout from Sam, and the click of Donna's camera. Eileen laughed at him, twisting her fingers through his, and looked over to Sam. “Yes.”

* * *

No, Dean isn't good with his feelings, but he'll meddle with Sam's just fine.

That's actually a horrible thing to do to your little brother, never propose for someone.

I did have this long-term plan, where Dean is putting off any conversation about feelings, or "I love you" moments, or anything like that because Cas isn't strong enough to walk away if he needs. The last thing he wants is Cas thinking he HAS to be in a relationship with Dean or he'll be out on the street--or that Dean would only take care of him because he wants something in return. Dean is shoving that all down to focus on taking care of Cas. And because he’s Dean Winchester and allergic to talking about things, but Jody can out-mom anyone.

Anyway, that's the end! I hope you enjoyed these twelve days of stories!

* * *

Day Eleven - Master List

[rosesnink]

Our Beautiful Rhythm

A/N: Guess what day is today! It’s @hellospunkiebrewster​ ‘s birthday! Yay! While these days are very crazy, I had the time to make her some gifts that I hope she enjoys. Carmen, sweetie, we’ve known each other for a short time and yet you’re one of my closest friends. I could never give you back what you’ve done for me, but I can keep trying. This is for you. Happy birthday, I love you very much. Remember that you’re very loved in here! 

Summary: It’s Ernest and Alex’s wedding. 

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Ernest Sinclaire belongs to Pixelberry Studios while Alexandra belongs to @hellospunkiebrewster​ ‘s series Diagnoses And Dalliances. I just toyed with them for a bit. 

Word Count: 1617 

The ceremony was an emotive, tender one that everyone swooned or cried or both. Alexandra couldn’t feel happier than now, even though her dad’s recovering was a very close one. She held her new husband close as her dress caressed the floor and smelled his earthy essence with expensive cologne that invaded her nostrils. The music chosen to dance was a beautiful piece that her father chose and felt in heaven. Ernest danced with her as he enjoyed the ambiance: the music, everyone whispering indistinct things and her spouse in her arms, everything just right in the world for a moment.

These months had been rough: The former Dr. Richards had been chasing them, holding grudges and many women felt unsafe because of the man’s rage and thought to drop their testimonies and stay home, but everyone, specially Ernest helped them through and just two months ago, it all ended for good. Richards got now what he deserved and the hospital was now a rather lovely place, and Alex and Ernest started planning their wedding. So far, he was an absolute angel and the best thing ever to happen during a long time. He was the sweetest, most attentive and giving man she’s ever known in any sense. She loved how good she felt with him: when they talked about medicine and her career, when they hung out in Maria’s little restaurant and even behind sheets. She was finally well, she has found the one she wanted to keep as long as she could and never let go until there were no further option.

The guests started to join, among them Briar and Edmund, Luke and Cordelia and Hamid and Holloway. Alex had to admit she was quite shocked when Hamid and Holloway started dating since she thought she’d try to seduce Ernest, but -and she would never say it out loud- they were quite an adorable pair and she wished them the best. Ernest twirled her and she almost stepped on her own feet, but thank God of her husband’s quick hands he grabbed her waist and kept her close to him. She gasped and then she blushed, hiding her face in his chest as she felt his low chuckle and how he caressed her back. The song ended and the song of ‘You Need To Calm Down’ by Taylor Swift’s newest album, Lover, started tuning and everyone cheered.

Alex smiled as Ernest decided to fetch some drinks. Her father approached her, a beaming smile on his face. She embraced him as the song kept playing. He twirled her, some old-fashioned moves showing off as she laughed and dipped her, both beaming smiles on their faces “I’m so happy for you, Alex. I rooted for the both of you since the very first moment I saw you guys”.

Alex blushed crimson as she looked away. She gave her husband a big smile as he chatted with Bart, who couldn’t stop talking. He showed a ring of his own, an engagement ring. Alex smiled at the fact that he and Yusuf would get married soon too. Love was in the air, indeed, and she was happy for the couples. Briar and Dr. Parsons found many things in common and chatted animatedly, making Alex fear a bit for her life. Those two were indeed a dangerous duo that must’ve been feared.

It was a beautiful day outside in Moorfield, the birds chirping and the kids running outside while Alex observed on the window. She felt a familiar pair of arms sliding on her hips and resting his chin on her head, a small smile on his face. He kissed her head and caressed her sides “How are enjoying the reception, dear wife?” That last word was caressed, a bit of amusement and happiness in his tone. Her gaze was still on the streets as she replied

“It has been nothing but amazing, husband” She tasted the word in her mouth, a big smile on her face, beaming at the ring on her hand. He spun her around and pecked her on the lips, a beaming smile of his own. He placed his hand on her cheek and she leaned on his touch, a loving smile of her own “I’ve never been happier, it has earned a place in my happiest days alongside my father’s recovery”.

“Then I have done everything right” He kissed the back of her hand and then her wrist, gazing at her adoringly, like some angel fallen from the sky.

Alex looked at him while she bit her lip. It was too soon? Would he be alright with the idea? Would it scare him? He noticed her thoughts and lifted her chin with his fingers, making her look onto his eyes “Is everything okay, Alexandra?”.

“Yes, I’m just overthinking again… Let’s go dance?”.

He chuckled “If that vanishes my wife’s overthinking…”.

Later, in Ernest’s rather elegant bedroom, Alex’s anxious thoughts popped in her again. She shook her head, looking at the dashing décor in front of her: the canopy bed, perfectly done without any flaws, the light blue walls, the wooden study desk full of perfect order of cases, taxes and other papers of his, a humble chandelier with loads of books, mostly classics and about medicine, a small fridge on the corner and his wardrobe, perfectly polished without photos. However, he did have one small box that had his name and a photo of him when he was in middle school. She smiled at the little Ernest’s cheeky smile, a glimpse of what Ernest told her once: that he was a ‘rather sullen child’ and used to be a bit of troublemaker, but with the years he became more serious. Beside that box, a photo of him as a preteen with his parents made her heart melt. He looked like he were fourteen, maybe twelve and he had a small smile. His mother, however, was beautiful, with her brown hair in a perfectly made bun and bright blue eyes. His father was stoic, a messy hair like his own, dark eyes and perfectly dressed. She was startled by her husband’s words behind her “We made that photo when I was eleven in Liverpool. It was a sunny day and my mother wanted a memory of the trip together. I still remember the kind woman who snapped that photo and how much fun I had playing with my mother on the beach” His gaze fell “I could have never guessed that photo would be the last one with my parents, alive and healthy”.

Alex hugged him, kissing his cheek in comfort and drawing ghosts on his back, feeling the fine velvet of his tuxedo against her fingers. She proceeded to get on her tiptoes and kissed him, giving him some comfort “I’m sorry…”.

He separated from her a few inches as their foreheads touched “Don’t be. It was long ago and I’m sure that they’d want me to enjoy this night and not even thinking of drawn in nostalgia”.

She cupped his face in her small hands “A great advice from what it seems like a wise woman”.

He gazed at her adoringly as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, her nose, her head and then her lips, murmuring her name, his hands never wavering off her. He kissed both of her hands and whispered in her ear “I want to make you feel loved, treasured, worshipped, adored… I want to treat you like a Queen, nay, a Goddess”.

She smiled at him, chewing her lip as she knew what it’d come next. She looked at him as she knew it’d be the perfect moment to propose it “Ernest, before we, you know… I have been thinking lately of something”.

He cocked his head to one side as he looked at her puzzled “Is everything alright?”.

“It is! But I have been wondering if… someday, whenever you feel ready, you’d like to, um, you know… Create a family together” She looked down, flushing red as she expected all kind of reactions “Of course, we don’t have to—it’s a silly, cheesy idea—I don’t want to force you or anything—”.

“Alex, hey!” He cupped her face in his hands and lifted it to his gaze, a smile on his face, his blue eyes bright with happiness and excitement “It’s not silly. I, too, have been wondering about having children with you at some point. I was too a bit afraid of your answer” With his thumb, he caressed her cheek and smiled at her widely “I’d love nothing but have children with you. The idea brings me such joy. I can picture them already…” He beamed “They’d have your beautiful, smooth hair, your pensive eyes, your breathtaking smile, your wits… In fact, I’d live happy if they are small copies of you, for you are the personificated perfection, Alexandra Mills”.

“I wouldn’t mind if one of them have at least your hair or your eyes, where one could swim for hours there” She teased, bringing him a chuckle as he lifted her and carried her to bed, making her squeal and giggle “Ernest!”.

He crawled to her as he kissed her eagerly “I love you, Alex. Don’t you ever forget that”.

She drew him to her, a tender smile on her face, her heart soaring with happiness “I love you too, Ernest” And with that, they kissed again, the time flying by as they held each other, laughs, giggles and pillow talks of what the future could bring, big wishes of a young couple who were merrily, eternally happy.

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Tagging 

 Perma Tag: @marlcasters​ @hellospunkiebrewster​ @mrsnazariowalker​ @isabella-choices​ @desireepow-1986​ 

Mr. Sinclaire Tag: @50shadesofraleigh​ ​ @amomentofsinclairity​  @mfackenthal @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire​ @melodyofgraves​  @princess-geek​ @choicesyouplayandmore​

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Euro Trip

Telling the kids that Grey was their brother was easier than explaining how. That first night after coming back from Europe, they talked it through all together—Dusty, Dante, Ruben, Yori, Grey, the triplets, even Lino, Vi, and Kidd listened in—and sorted through what it meant for the family. The triplets were very excited about the whole ordeal, but they weren’t too happy that he wasn’t going to live with them, at least not all the time. Even though they understood that it was Dusty and Dante who were Grey’s parents, it didn’t make sense to them why they couldn’t all live together anyway. Besides, they argued, they’d already had the talk about how blood didn’t mean family, a difficult topic for Rowan who wasn’t either Dante or Ruben’s biological son, so even if Grey was Dante and Dusty’s biological, why couldn’t Ruben and Yori be his dads too?

They got through it though and the plan was for the time being for them to spend as much time as possible all together so they could get to know their new family member. For the rest of the week, Lino and Vi offered to watch Grey while Dusty was at work since they worked from home anyway. The triplets still had to go to school, but they’d have an extra three hours a day after school with their new brother before Dusty got back. Dante would also be home to finish recovering, and could spend more time with Grey too. Recovery was pretty strange for Dante. He'd wake up feeling like he was fine and but if he attempted anything even a little extra effort, like standing too long making food, he felt easily drained of energy. Sydryn called him on his second day back to make sure he was resting properly, and it was apparently pretty normal and he should still exercise a little to work up the strength. Lino suggested he take short walks with Grey so they'd go around the block once or twice while Grey took in the area. He really was a very quiet boy. Kidd was pretty quiet too, but their silence still seemed unique. Kidd was more quietly studious, they were always thinking things through and very sure of themselves. Grey on the other hand was very timid and he seemed very unsure of things. The longer they spent together though, the more he started to speak his mind and ask more questions. He was likely very social once he warmed up to people. Dante was very much reminded of himself as a kid. He'd had a very hard time making friends after Dusty, but lucky for Grey he had three older siblings who already adored the heck out of him. Dante hadn't been so lucky with Lino, though they got along well enough. When he first went out alone with Grey, Dante was worried about his new teleporting abilities, but it seemed it was very short range so far and he only wanted to do it with Dusty around so it wasn't a problem. The only thing Grey seemed to want to do outside was stop to look at every leaf, squirrel, and collection of frost they passed by. He even picked up a few rocks he liked and brought them along with him, though his hands got full quick. Dante helped him carry them back home and arrange them on the edge of the front porch in order of grandeur. Back inside, their second day back from Europe, Dante took Grey to Lino's kitchen to find his brother. Luckily, Lino was there putting together a new spice rack. He since he and Vi only had to produce a batch of eggs once a month, he spent a lot of time home doing little hobbies. The past half year, he'd been honing his painting skills. Starting this month, it seemed to be small home improvements. “Hey, can you watch Grey? I'm beat,” Dante asked walking in. “Yeah, sure.” Lino put down his screwdriver so he could lift Grey onto his lap. Grey put a rock on the table. “Wow, look at that one. Real smooth.” “Oh, come on, bud,” Dante said going over to pick up the stone. “I said you can bring rocks home, but they gotta stay outside. Where'd you hide this one?” “Mouth,” Grey answered. “Oh lord… Clever, buddy, but mouths are for food. Only food,” Dante said, going to wash the rock and his hands in the sink. “I can think of a few other things…” Lino muttered. “Lino, don't.” Dante dried his hands and pat Grey's head. “We don't eat rocks so they don't go in our mouths. Got it?” Grey nodded quickly. Dante went to take the rock out to the porch and just as he did, Ruben pulled up with Yori and the kids. The triplets rushed into the house to go find Grey to play with and Dante gave his boyfriends hugs. “How was work?” he asked, ruffling Ruben's hair. “Fine. Uneventful…” Ruben recounted as they went back inside. “Did you rest up?” “Mostly, yeah. Took a walk with Grey.” “In this weather?” Ruben asked, shrugging off his coat. Dante shook his head. “It's really not that bad. Just cold. No precipitation at least.” “You probably shouldn't be out too long,” Ruben said. “Don't know what that ritual's done to your immune system.” “Rube, I'm okay. The worst of this whole ritual business is behind us.” “Still, you took the worst of it.” The triplets came running down the stairs to them with toy cars and things they planned to use while playing with Grey. Skylar had with her a model plane and she held it up. “Did you fly in a plane like this?” she asked. “Hm…” Dante picked up the model fighter jet and shook his head. “Not quite. Ours was a passenger plane. They're pretty big. I'll show you. Come to the kitchen.” They all followed them and he pulled out his tablet to find some pictures. “So big!” Marco commented on a photo of a Boing 737. “Can we go in a plane like that?” “Maybe. We'll take you on a trip some time,” Dante said. “Where would we go?” Rowan asked. “Where? Hmm…” Dante rubbed the back of his neck. “I don't know yet.” “It'll be a surprise,” Ruben said as he came in and went to make himself a cup of coffee. “But it'll be a while.” “Can we go to Europe like you?” Skylar asked. “Maybe. We could visit family,” Dante considered. Ruben huffed. “Not mine.” “Aw, but I always wanted to see the Netherlands,” Dante pouted. “We have family there?” Marco asked. “Yeah. Have we never told you?” Dante asked. “Dad has family from the Netherlands and I have family from Italy.” “What about Europe?” Rowan asked. “The Netherlands and Italy are in Europe. Europe is a continent, like North America, and Italy and the Netherlands are countries, like Canada.” “Ohhh,” Skylar said. “So is it like Minecraft?” “Is what?” “The Nether.” “Aha, no… The Netherlands and the Nether are very different.” “Why?” “I really don't know. But I think I'd prefer the Netherlands the way it is.” “Okay…” Marco thought for a moment. “What'd you do in Europe?” “We participated in a, well…a ritual,” Dante said. Ruben eyed him. “Really?” “No point lying…” Dante whispered. “What's that?” Marco asked. “So, you know how you have a little witch in your class?” Dante asked. “Yeah. She does magic.” “Yeah. So a ritual is like doing group magic.” “Oooh!” Rowan said. “Are you witches?” “No, we're just human,” Dante said. “Other kinds of people can do magic though. We met this guy who was an actual angel and he could do spells.” “Whoa, an angel?” Skylar marveled. “Really?” “Yes, he performed the ritual, but we were involved. It was a little bit dangerous and that's why Papa has these scars now,” Dante explained, letting them look over the ones on his hand. “Did it hurt?” Rowan asked. “A little… I'm pretty tired from it, but I'll be okay.” “Did Daddy get scars too?” Marco asked. “No,” Ruben answered. “I wasn't as involved in the ritual.” “Actually, you're Daddy made sure I was going to be okay,” Dante said. “He took care of me the whole way through.” “Sooo, you're not fighting anymore?” Rowan asked. “No. No, we're not fighting. We weren't fighting,” Dante said. “Sometimes we might argue, but usually it's just because we're both upset in the moment about little things. It doesn't mean we're fighting.” “Are you gonna get married?” Marco asked. “Oh, well, um…” Dante looked at Ruben. Ruben shrugged. “Maybe.” “Will Mama get married too?” Rowan asked. “Mmm, I don't think that's really something he wants,” Dante said. “Why not?” Skylar asked pouting. “Doesn't he love you enough?” “Mama does love us. You don't have to get married to show how much you love each other. It's just one way.” “What's another way?” Rowan asked. “Well, you can always just be there for each other, support each other, take care of each other,” Dante listed. “Make them know you love them in how to you treat them every day.” “Okay…” Rowan accepted. “Why's your hair so long?” Marco asked. “It's just a side effect of the ritual,” Dante explained. “Do you like it?” “Yeah!” Rowan said. “Mm, you look like a hobo,” Marco remarked. “Hey, I do not. But we don't call them hobos, okay? They're homeless.” “You look like a pirate!” Skylar said. “There we go!” Dante said patting Skylar's head. “That's more like it. Pretty cool, huh?” “Yeah,” Skylar mused. “But you need an eyepatch.” “That would be very piratey…” Dante rubbed his chin. “Anyway, how were you guys? Were you okay without us?” “I was,” Skylar said. “All the boys were crybabies.” “I wasn't!” Marco said. “It was just Rowan and Grey! I was brave!” “Rowan, is that true? Were you okay?” Dante asked, petting Rowan's hair. Rowan looked down. “I mean… I missed you. And…and you were already gone before and then Daddy left too and I just wanted you to come back…” “Aw, buddy. Come here.” Dante lifted his son onto his lap. “I'm sorry. We didn’t really plan for any of this so it was a pretty bad timing. But we're back and we're not going anywhere without you any time soon.” “Promise?” Rowan asked, hugging him. “Yeah,” Dante assured him. “Grey, was upset too, huh?” “Yeah, more than me,” Rowan said. “Well, I don't think Grey's been away from his dad as often as you.” “Speaking of…” Lino popped over with Grey from his side. “He's been asking for you. He's tired but he won't take a nap without you.” Dante took his youngest and put him on his lap. Grey was clearly tuckered out and he just curled up. “Lino were you eavesdropping?” “I really don't know what you expect from me, Dante. Honestly, I'm thinking we should just knock down this wall here and just make one big super kitchen,” Lino considered, knocking the wall. “I think there's a load bearing column here, but we can work around it…” “No,” Ruben declined. “The kitchens are big enough as they are.” “Suit yourself, but these walls a super thin,” Lino said. “I mean, with the door in it, I guess that's where I can hear you from…” Yori came in too, having gone straight upstairs to look for a book he wanted to bring to his class later. “I heard we're gonna take a trip with the kids?” “You could hear too, huh?” Dante said. Yori just shrugged and pointed to his dog ears. “Right, you hear everything...” Ruben said. “Yeah, Dante's been making promises.” “I mean, we already talked about a trip,” Yori said. “It was a condition.” “Oh, right…” Dante said, remembering their conversation before the ritual. “So we are gonna go on a trip?” Marco asked. “Yeah, your Papa promised,” Yori said. “Where are we gonna go?” Skylar asked. “Disneyland?” Marco asked. “Uh… Maybe?” Dante looked at Ruben. Ruben frowned. “We don't know yet.” “You should come down to Florida with us,” Lino interjected. “Oh. Actually, maybe,” Dante said, earning him an elbow from Ruben. “Yeah, we might be able to manage that.” “Dante…” Ruben warned. “Don't get their hopes up. And if they find out what else is in Florida, we won't hear the end of it.” Lino smirked. “You mean Disney World?” “Disney World is in Florida?!” Skylar exclaimed. “Can we go?” Marco asked. “Can we pleeeeease?” Rowan insisted. Ruben groaned and just got up and left the table. “I'm not paying for this.” Dante chuckled. “I can't promise anything yet, kids. But maybe.” “We have to go!” Marco whined. “Please?” “Have to? I don't know about that…” Dante rubbed his chin. “Thing is, only really good kids get to go to Disney World.” “We're so good!” Skylar said. “We're the best!” “You'll have to be really good for your teacher,” Dante said. “And finish your dinner and help us around the house.” “We will,” Marco said. “Yeah, we will!” Rowan agreed. Vi got home at that time and leaned in through shared door. “Lino, I’m sorry I'm late. They were out of prawn so I had to go further.” Lino went over and kissed his boyfriend's cheek. “That's fine, but we talked about the whole human face stuff. You don't have to cover up out there.” “I know, I know…” Vi switched back to his naturally blue self. “I just get really nervous…” “It's okay.” “There’s a task for you kids…” Dante said, getting up with Grey. “Go help your uncles put away the groceries.” “Oh, that isn't necessary,” Vi said. “Naw, they're earning a trip,” Lino said. “Come on pups. You can help with dinner too.” “Okay!” Skylar said, herding her brothers over to the other side. Dante rubbed Grey's back. “I'm gonna put Grey down for a nap and I still need one too.” “Alright, we'll watch the brats,” Lino said. “Go rest. We'll wake you when dinner's ready.” “Thank you.”

[santamonicaroleplay]

❝ LIFE IS TOO SHORT TO WAIT. ❞

NAME: Marco Ricci GENDER/PRONOUNS: Male, He/Him DATE OF BIRTH: August 31st, 1982  BIRTH PLACE: Santa Barbara, California CURRENT RESIDENCE: Pico Boulevard OCCUPATION: Owner/Head Chef at Ricci’s FACE CLAIM: Milo Ventimiglia

BIOGRAPHY

trigger warnings: cancer, death

The Ricci’s loved food. That was something that everyone knew about them.  In fact, it was how Sophie and Perio met. They locked eyes over a jug of water, Sofia on her first night waitressing at a small Italian restaurant in Santa Monica, Perio out with his family on a celebratory trip following his high school graduation. It was love at first sight. Within a year they were married and had moved to a place in Santa Barbara, Perio’s hometown. He went into the family business, running the restaurant by the age of twenty-five, with plans to open his own at some point in the future. But all plans were thrown to the wind when Sophie fell pregnant and nine months later, Marco was welcomed to the family.

Marco was a pretty average kid, constantly causing trouble and running riot in his family’s restaurant, but he meant no harm by any of it. The problem was, he was the first one for generations that seemed to have absolutely no interest in cooking —- both his mother and father would attempt to teach him, but he’d stand around yawning or purposely spoiling things because he thought it was funny. In a nutshell, he was an absolute nightmare when he was a child, just in a perfectly normal way.

As he grew into his teens, he developed a love for the beach and the ocean, spent most of his days surfing. He lived on the beach. Only headed home to sleep. His interest in ocean wildlife came next and as he approached senior year, he began to consider studying Marine Biology. Any plans he had started to form, however, were destroyed when his parents made the sudden decision to relocate. It was out of the blue, their announcement, informing the family that they’d found a property in Downtown Santa Monica and they’d be opening up a restaurant. Up until that moment, Perio had continued to run his father’s business, still dreaming of the place he wanted to open with his wife. Santa Monica was simply a no brainer, they’d met there and that was exactly where they wanted to continue their plans, much to the rest of the family’s dismay.

So the entire family packed up their things and moved further south, only 6 months away from Marco’s high school graduation. It had majorly fucked up his plans and his life in general, if he were honest, but there was nothing he could do. He was thrown into a school where he knew no one and had no interest in knowing anyone, with only a couple of months before he moved away for college, he didn’t see much point in making friends —- even if he had always been described as Mr Friendly by his mother. A few acquaintances were made around the area that he lived, but away from that, he made little effort, Mr Friendly no more.

College was California State, still close to home, yet a chance to escape the constant call of family duty. To him, working in the family restaurant wasn’t important; to his father, it was almost a rite of passage. Maybe he was letting everyone down, but shouldn’t he be allowed to follow his dreams, too? With college came other things; first job that had nothing to do with Italian cooking, first major college party, and then there was the first love… The latter didn’t turn out quite how he’d have liked it to, not what he expected at all, in fact. They’d got on like a house on fire, bonded over similar interests and spent countless evenings in coffee shops, just laughing away and enjoying one another’s company. But it came to an abrupt end, she disappeared without warning when he’d started to talk about the future, and he was left confused and a little heartbroken.

Marco wasn’t one to wallow, though, so he threw himself into his remaining education, and then eventually landed himself a job at Seaworld San Diego. He was there for five years, with no actual intention of leaving. He flitted in and out of relationships, never finding anyone who was quite right, wary of getting in too deep now. But it seemed to work for him, especially there. People there on vacation with no plans to stay longer than a week or two and summer romances, it was all he had any real interest in. He loved his job, though, working with the conservation team and closely with the dolphins. Who could possibly complain?

Then, the phone call came, his father was sick and they needed him back home in Santa Monica. He knew absolutely nothing about running the family business, but his mother insisted, too upset to know what else to do. Family duty, despite all that had gone on, trumped everything else. He didn’t know how to say no when his mother was crying openly down the line to him. So he moved back home (or their current home, at least) and found himself a place not far from the restaurant, rooming with a couple of other people, settling into what was to be his life for a while. His father, thankfully, made a full recovery, but he was left tending to the restaurant for a good six months. Eventually he began to come around, though he still didn’t know if it was what he wanted to do with his life.

Deciding there was no point in moving away again once his father returned to the business, he found himself a job at Heal the Bay Aquarium. He was there for a little over a year until he decided that perhaps he had more of an interest in his family’s business than he’d originally thought. Somehow the art of Italian cooking had managed to get under his skin and he immediately went to his father to teach him all the tricks of the trade. Marco took it one step further, though, and the twists he brought to his food meant each and every day he was getting closer and closer to fine dining. It wasn’t what anyone had ever expected from him, not even himself, yet after time it seemed it was his calling. Within two years he’d even managed to open his own restaurant, Ricci’s, in the downtown area of Santa Monica.

After that, his life simply seemed to go from strength to strength —- mostly, anyway. For the first time in years, he tried again when it came to relationships. Shying away from them for the best part of decade was long enough and, really, people were beginning to make comments about how he should think about settling down. The idea had lost his novelty over the years, however, so it wasn’t easy to break out of bad habits he’d formed. He was in his mid-thirties and had no idea what he was even doing anymore. It was safe to say all attempts were a failure and he ran more than a couple of times, the idea of commitment not even something he was sure he could do anymore. There was one attempt that lasted longer than he thought it would; she was in his life for a year, but in the end, she was the one who went running, her excuse that he was too detached and she felt alone even when they were together. He didn’t try again.

Life carried on as life did after that. Nothing eventful. Nothing until his father fell ill again… and this time things didn’t end well. Cancer. Terminal. Caught much too late. There wasn’t anything that could be done.

It wasn’t what Marco had ever really expected, to watch his father slowly fade away; the man who had been nothing but an irritation to him as a child and then grown into someone he’d respected and called a mentor as an adult. He’d sat at his bedside day by day and held his hand until the last. Sure enough, the family fell apart when his father finally passed, a hole left where Perio had once stood. It was to be expected, there had never been anyone like him, yet Marco still took it upon himself to bring everyone back together again as best he could. Family came first, it was what they’d always said, after all. He may not have been father, but he could certainly try.

[master-sass-blast]

When the Clock Strikes Midnight and Time Stands Still.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Summary: You and Piotr ring in the New Year together --but some fears from the past come back to haunt you.

Rated T for: Moderate angst, adult language, and alcohol consumption.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader and Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson

@marvel-is-perfection

“Somebody pinch me, I’m dreaming.”

You roll your eyes and laugh. “You’re the one that asked for this. You were there when Xavier approved it.”

It’s the end of the year, and you’re helping set up for what promises to be an epic New Year’s party.

And, unlike last year, all of the students are out on a winter break trip or with their families, which means it’s just adults this year.

Which, in turn, means that booze is allowed.

You aren’t looking to repeat your basement drinking disaster --and the hangover that had followed the next morning--but you are excited to party without having a bunch of kids around.

Next to you, Piotr huffs, seemingly less cheery than you are as he wipes down the kitchen counters. “This is still supposed to be controlled event, Wade.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But we can actually drink booze! Hey, do you think I can trick Scott into a shot drinking contest?”

You wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s thick waist when he sighs through his nose. “Relax, babe. It’s gonna be fine. Besides, who knows? You might even have fun.”

The corner of his mouth turns up, but you suspect it’s more for you and less for the celebration this evening. “Forgive me if I am skeptical, moya lyubov’. I am not ‘party person.’”

“No one’s asking you to be, Pete.” You press a kiss against his side. “Just try not to ruin the evening for yourself before it even starts, is all.”

The final seconds between old year and the new find you in Piotr’s arms, smiling while everyone else talks around you.

He smiles down at you while the crowd in Times Square on the TV counts down. “I think this is happened before.”

You grin back up at him and place your palm on the back of his neck, tugging him down. “Sometimes life lets you repeat the best things.”

The ball drops, the calendar rolls over, and you and Piotr herald the New Year with a sweet, soft kiss. The sound of fireworks are audible on TV, picked up by one of the boom mics no doubt--

And then the sound of fireworks and screaming are all too audible outside. “Shitfuck!”

You can’t help but chuckle when Piotr sighs and mutters something about Wade under his breath and smooth out his furrowed brow with the pad of your thumb. “Relax. He can’t actually kill himself. Besides--” you nod over to Nathan, who’s already walking out the back door with a fire extinguisher in hand “--someone’s already got it covered.”

Piotr relaxes, just a little, and kisses the top of your head before hugging you against his chest. “Happy New Year, myshka.”

“Happy New Year, Piotr.”

Once Nate puts Wade --and the bush he’d accidentally blown up--out, the party swings into full gear.

Wade, Nate, and Logan are all sipping at beers --well, Nate and Logan are sipping, Wade is chugging because he can--while they watch the twenty-somethings play a game of beer pong. Jean and Neena are stationed off to the side, sipping at glasses of wine, considering Neena’s been banned from playing to prevent one of the teams from having a clear advantage.

You bounce between the groups, bottle of hard soda --that you are slowly nursing, at Piotr’s worried insistence.

Piotr, however, isn’t really bouncing between groups. Or hanging out with anyone. He’s simply watching everything, holding a glass of vodka --ever the stereotypical Russian.

You sidle up next to him, nuzzling his side. “Hey, babe. You alright?”

He hums an affirmative and sets his glass on a side table so he can wrap an arm around you. “Da. I am just not one for parties.”

You tilt your head up at him. “Wanna head up to our room? It’s not like we have to stay here if we don’t want to.”

“I would not want to leave everyone else--”

“Babe, everyone here’s an adult, and Nate’s on Wade duty. You don’t have to chaperone anyone.”

He relents with a sigh and an easy smile. “If you’d like.”

You smooth your hand down his back --and squeeze his ass playfully. “Oh, I would.” You grin cheekily at him and set your glass next to his. “Race you upstairs?”

He smirks down at you. “Do you really think you can win?”

“I like my odds.” You dart away from him and scamper down the hall and out the front door.

It’s bitterly cold outside and snowing softly, but you ignore the chill --and Piotr’s confused calls of your name as you lift yourself off the ground and fly towards the balcony outside your shared room.

Piotr belly-laughs when he realizes what you’re up to. “Really? Really?”

“The shortest path between two points is a straight line!” you shout down at him. “Have fun losing!”

In hindsight, though, you probably should’ve put on some shoes before darting outside. A decent layer of snow’s already collected on the balcony, and it soaks into your socks while you fumble with the door. You practically tumble into the room as soon as you get the door open, stripping your sopping socks and clambering onto the bed so you can tuck your frigid feet into the comforter.

Piotr opens the door and turns on the light not a couple moment later, chuckling at the sight of you. “Pleased with yourself?”

“No. My feet are freezing. I think my toes are gonna fall off!”

He chuckles again and closes --and latches--the balcony door before retrieving a towel from the bathroom. “Well. We cannot have that.”

You sit back against a pillow as he dries your feet off and starts warming them with his hands. You smile --mostly to yourself--and marvel, again, at how you managed to land such a wonderful man.

You’ve had an amazing year of it with Piotr --an amazing couple of years, actually. You never thought you’d feel so loved, never thought you’d have someone that coaxed the best of out of you while weather your worsts in equal measure.

It seems like a miracle, considering that, when you first arrived at Xavier’s, you’d been little more than a ball of nervous rage and smart-ass comments.

What did he see in me? you ponder as he moves from rubbing your feet to massaging one of your calves. Fuck, I was such a terror back then. What did he see in me that made him go ‘yeah, that one?’

Though, considering that he’s dealt with Wade, there probably much about you that he hadn’t seen in some way, shape, or form before.

And now...

Things are good. You’ve got Piotr, friends, a little family to call your own, and a sense of purpose. A sense of identity.

And yet...

As much as things have changed, they feel like they haven’t. You feel like time has barely passed since you’ve arrived at Xavier’s.

As much as you are better, you aren’t. Sure, you’re off the mutation repression serum and aren’t having episodes on a regular basis, but no one can figure out what’s wrong with you --and, until someone can, you can’t really move forward with your treatment.

And until you move forward with your treatment...

How is the future supposed to come when the present keeps standing still? You can’t --don’t want to--press into the future with Piotr --marriage, a home, kids--without some sort of answer to what’s wrong with you, but if that answer never comes, if no one can ever figure out why you keep hallucinating during your episodes, why your traumatic memories manifest clear as day--

Piotr’s hand are warm and gentle on your face, wiping away tears you hadn’t even realized were falling. “Myshka? What is it, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head and press yourself against his chest, shoulders shake as muffled cries force their way out of you.

Piotr wraps his arms around you without prompting, kissing the top of your head while he murmurs various comforts in your ear. “Tische, tische. Deep breaths, lyublyu. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m not --I’m not getting b-better,” you gasp out between sobs.

His lips are soft against your forehead. “Nyet. You have come so far in past couple years. I am so proud of you.”

You shake your head and sit back. “No. I’m not. I --no one knows what’s wrong with me!”

“It takes time,” he says, smoothing your hair away from your face.

“But... but what if...” Your stomach churns, and you opt to stare at the comforter. “Maybe... maybe you should find--”

“Nyet.” Piotr’s hands cup your face and he --gently--tips your head up so he can kiss you. “Do not even finish that thought. I am not going anywhere.”

“Piotr--”

“Y/N. I knew what I was signing up for when I told you I loved you. I have no expectations about how things are going to go or how your recovery will look. All I want is to be by your side while you go through it.”

“But what about getting married? Or having kids? Would you honestly trust me to raise kids if we don’t know what’s wrong with me?”

He kisses your cheek softly. “There are many people in this world who do all of that without having full diagnosis. If you told me you wanted to get married without diagnosis, I would ask you then and there.”

You sniff and lay your head against his shoulder. “Really?”

“Da. You are love of my love, and I want nothing more than to spend it with you.”

“But I don’t--”

He rubs his hand up and down your back as you start crying again. “I already have my life with you, married or not. A ring, a wedding, it is all icing on cake. Do I want it? Da. Do I need it? Nyet. I don’t care what our future looks like together, as long as it has us. As long as we are happy and healthy and safe. Marriage does not change that.”

“And what about kids?”

He kisses your forehead. “Many couples cannot have children, for one reason or other. If that is us, then that is us.”

You sniffle and look at him with watery eyes. “But you want kids.”

He smiles, eyes just as misty as yours. “Da. I do. And I know you do as well. But if you do not feel safe having them --raising them--then we won’t. That would not be fair to them, and it would not be fair to you.”

You let out a choked sob and tuck you head against the crook of his neck. “You deserve better than what I can give you.”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his heart before pressing a gentle kiss against your ear.. “But all I want is you.”

You’re not sure what the new year holds for you. You’re not sure what the future holds at all, or if any of the dreams you’ve concocted in your mind are even attainable.

But you’ve got Piotr by your side. And you know that, with him, you can get through whatever life throws at you.

Bring it on, new year.

[tallulahchanel]

“The Rose of Wakanda” Chapter 5

Notes: Sorry this chapter took so long, but I would like to thank everyone for their patience. I’ll have the next one out as soon as possible.

Warnings: Angst. This chapter includes the loss of an unborn child, so I can understand if you’d like to skip it.

Words: 2k

Tags: @queen-of-the-jabari @zaddysqueen7 @ovohanna24 @thegodmother97 @marvelheaux

November 1, 2016 21:16 My chambers

Dear Diary,

Another uneventful week passed, and I still haven't heard from my good-for-nothing fiancé.

This morning I took the liberty of sending him a message saying that I needed him. Nothing. How hard is it to pick up a kimoyo bead or even a cellphone to let the person you’re going to marry know that you’re at least thinking about them?

Considering what today was, I hoped he would've had the courtesy to check on me, but I must be asking for too much.

November 1, 2015 was a day like any other day, and yet it became one of the worse days of my life.

I awoke that morning to an empty bed. No surprise, because Dakarai was away on another business trip, leaving me alone with our unborn son. Releasing a sad sigh, I sat up as best as I could with my seventh-month belly and started my morning routine. In the midst of me wrapping my microbraids in a headwrap, I began to feel a slight pain in my stomach, causing me to wince. I knew abdominal pains at that point in the pregnancy was common, so I didn't worry too much about it.

The rest of the morning went by smoothly with breakfast and chores. Even though I was seven months pregnant, I was still adamant about working. Of course, it wasn't comfortable with my condition, but Weza was there to help out where she could.

It wasn’t until around noon when things took a turn for the worse......

I was in the kitchen making lunch for King T’Chaka and T’Challa, who were busy in an elder’s meeting. T’Challa was still a prince at the time, but T’Chaka thought his son was capable enough to attend the meetings as well as conferences out of the country.

While stirring the stew, I felt a pair of arms encircle my shoulders and a kiss placed on my temples.

“You know you shouldn’t sneak up on me like that,” I told whoever engulfed me.

“Is it wrong that I’m happy to see my best friend?” T’Challa replied softly in my ear.

I set the spoon on the counter and turned in his arms to hug him. "How was the meeting?"

He rolled his eyes, and I giggled. “Don’t ask. If that’s what I’m going to have to deal with when I become king, I may not make it.”

"T'Challa, you're going to make a great-" I was cut off by a sharp pain in my stomach, causing me to pull away from our embrace slowly. "Ow!"

He frowned in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I tried to reassure him, but the tears that were welling in my eyes told a different story. “I just—OW!” I felt another sharp pain, this one hurting more than the last.

A sticky substance between my legs alerted me, and I looked down to see blood dripping down my ankles and onto the floor.

“Rose!” I heard T’Challa address me in concern before scooping me into his arms and rushing me to the infirmary.

Everything afterward became a blur. The only thing I remembered before succumbing to darkness was hoping that my baby boy was going to be alright.

I wasn't sure how much time passed before I opened my eyes and found myself in one of the recovery rooms. The first thing I felt was someone’s thumb stroking my hand, and I looked over to see Queen Ramonda cradling my hand in hers.

“Quee-” I tried to address her, but the dryness in my throat followed by a cough prevented me from doing so.

“Here, drink this,” she instructed and presented me with a cup of water and a straw.

I did as she said and took a sip of the water. I was still groggy and tired from the day’s events, so I laid back down to rest. However, when my hand instinctively went to my belly, my eyes widen at how flat it felt, and I shot up, wincing at the pain in my abdomen, to see that the bulge was gone.

My heart pounded in my ears as I began looking around the room, searching for answers. A bassinet, an incubator, or something to let me know my son had survived and the doctors were taking care of him.

“Queen Mother?” I bore into her dark brown eyes with a look of hope. “Where’s my baby?”

Her solemn expression told me what I didn’t want to hear.

My lips quivered and my eyes filled with tears. “No, no, no,” I managed to say with a head shake of disbelief before a sob escaped my lips.

Queen Ramonda set the cup of water on the nightstand and put an arm around me, pulling me into a comforting embrace. I buried my face in her shoulder and cried, not caring that I was ruining her elegant dress with my wet tears.

The doctor came in hours later to inform me that I suffered a placental abruption and, despite their best efforts, they couldn’t save my baby. When asked if I would like to see him, I shook my head. I couldn't allow my only memory of him to be a lifeless body that never took a breath.

After telling me that I was staying in the infirmary for observations, the doctor left, and I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to hold back the next set of tears.

"Holding it in only hurts more," Queen Ramonda said to me, and I nodded in response. She was right, but at that moment, I wasn't in the mood for any more tears.

“Does Dakarai know?” I asked, speaking for the first time in hours.

She nodded. “I had both Shuri and Weza send him a message."

I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was resisting the urge to roll them. She didn’t like Dakarai, never have. I didn’t understand her disdain towards him at first, but it made sense months later when our relationship hit a patch so rough that we only spoke a handful of words to each other.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” She asked me a few minutes later, but I shook my head. One, because I didn’t think it was proper for the king’s wife to wait on me—a mere servant—and two, I just needed my fiancé.

The next couple of days consisted of nurses changing the dressing over my c-section scar when I wasn't sleeping or reading a book I've meant to finish for two years. At some point, Weza and Shuri would come in to cheer me up with reruns of Match Game 78, but not even Dumb Dora could put a smile on my face. Eventually, T’Challa made his way to the infirmary with a vase full of blue tulips—my favorite flower (ironic, I know)—to keep me company. He had been busy working on some plans that King T’Chaka wanted to put into place, so that’s why he has barely seen me since he had to carry me there.

By day three, I was agitated. My nerves were so bad that Queen Ramonda had to be called down to relax me because I had punched a window, even though the glass was too thick for me to break.

“Rose,” she regarded me with concern once she entered the room, “yintoni ingxaki?”

“Have you heard from Dakarai?”

She shook her head.

It was dumb of me to ask her. If Dakarai knew what was good for him, he wouldn't bother contacting her. But that doesn't explain why he hadn't tried to reach me. No call, no messages. Nothing to let me know that he heard what happened to our son and that he was on his way.

Releasing a frustrated scream, I aimed for the window again, but Queen Ramonda grabbed my wrist from behind and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “No! No! No!” I exclaimed before roughly pushing her away and walking back to the bed.

“Rose,” she addressed me again, this time her voice was laced with sympathy, but I shook my head. I didn't want to hear it. I couldn’t bear to listen to a chorus of “I'm sorry” and “I just want to help.”

“You’re going to have to deal with this at some point,” she said sternly, receiving a glare from me.

“No! I shouldn’t have to! I should not be in here, waiting to hear from my fiancé! I shouldn’t.......” my voice trailed off as a lump began forming in my throat and my bottom lip started to quiver.

I felt her hand on my shoulder, but I flinched away and walked over to the window opposite of the one I had punched earlier. This one had a view of the mining trains, so I watched them run on the track while the lights stabilized the vibranium inside.

I leaned my head against the window and sighed. “It isn’t fair,” I managed to say as a tear rolled down my cheek. “I should be holding my baby.....not burying it.”

The sound of the automatic door caught my attention, and I turned to see Weza entering, and, for a second, I had a glimmer of hope that she'd tell me that Dakarai was in Wakanda or he at least bothered to leave a message that he was on his way. She must’ve read my mind because she shook her head with a grim look on her face.

I bit down on my quivering lip to hold back a sob, but it didn’t work. Before I knew it, my head was in my hands while tears fell thick and fast on my brown cheeks. I slid down the wall and onto the floor where I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my face in them, rocking myself back and forth. I could hear Queen Ramonda’s footsteps coming towards me, but, once again, I inched away from her. Thankfully, she didn't press on and left me there.

I wasn't sure when or how, but she was able to convince me to lie back down in bed and rest. I was still crying by that point, but not as hard as I had been.

A while later, I heard the doors open and close, but I wasn’t sure if someone had come in or out, and I didn’t bother removing my hand from my tear-stained eyes to see for myself.

“She doesn’t want to be touched,” I heard Weza say.

Curiosity got the best of me, and I took my hand from my face. Instead of seeing Dakarai like I hoped, to my disappointment, I saw the baby-doe eyes of T’Challa gazing into my brown ones with sympathy.

“Intyatyambo?” He addressed me as his knuckled brushed the wet tears from my cheeks.

A sob escaped my lips followed by a fresh set of tears coursing down my cheeks. T'Challa climbed in next to me and pulled me into a warm embrace. I buried my face in his chest and released a heart-breaking wail.

“It’s alright, i ntyatyambo ekhethekileyo,” he said soothingly and started to rock me while his fingers entangled themselves in my microbraids. “Ndilapha ngoku. I’m right here.”

T’Challa rubbed my back soothingly as Queen Ramonda and Weza left—actions indicated by their retreating footsteps. He ended up staying with me that night after I cried myself to sleep.

I was released from the infirmary the next day, but a couple of more days went by before Dakarai finally made an appearance. He stayed long enough for us to bury our son together and leave again on another business trip—something about a new project his baba needs him on. I didn’t ask for more details because, truth be told, I didn’t care about anything that seemed to be more important than our son.

It’s getting late. I should get ready for tomorrow and get some rest.

Write later.

~~~

Translations

Yintoni ingxaki? - What’s the matter? Intyatyambo - Flower i ntyatyambo ekhethekileyo - my special flower Ndilapha ngoku – I'm here now

Masterlist

[arielle0808]

May I request some hcs for rfa and minor 3 and how they’d propose?

Aaaaaaw 😍😍😍 That’s so cuuute!!

Here it goes! Thank you for your patience and your request, lovely~

I hope you like it

Yoosung

He has the perfect ring, and he really, really wants to propose, but… He has too many ideas and doesn’t know which to choose. 

A romantic dinner at an expensive restaurant, really fancy, with candle lights, champagne… Or a simple, cosy dinner at home with… candle lights, and champaigne. Or an impromptu trip to the beach! Or the mountains! And candle lights!!! And champaigne!!!! And roses, and….

He wants it to be perfect!!! It’s going to be his first (and only proposal) and he wants to make it perfect to MC.

Of course, he asks Zen for advice. It’s really complicated at first because none of them seem to agree in what’s best.

He decides to do it at their flat. He wants to save the money he would spend on a restaurant to buy a good wine, fine ingredients for a hand-made dinner and flowers and candles. He decorates the living room and bedroom as neatly and beautiful as he can and puts on his favourite suit. He even puts a ribbon around Lisa’s neck.

When MC arrives, they let out a gasp of surprise. “Are we celebrating something?” they ask.

“Just how much I love you?” Yoosung says with a blush, not really convinced. He’s so nervous he thinks he’s going to faint!!

MC, on the other hand, doesn’t give it much of a thought. They are used to Yoosung having small details for them, though he has never prepared something as beautiful as this. Maybe they have forgotten something after all? They try to remember, but they can’t. It isn’t Saint Valentines, is it?

The dinner is delicious, MC’s favourite dish prepared with all of Yoosung’s love and care, and he has even made their favourite dessert. He looks more nervous than usual, but MC is so excited about everything, they don’t really notice.

Yoosung and MC move to the sofa and he opens the champagne.

“Wow!” MC exclaims in surprise. “Ok, this is too much for a normal dinner. You really have to tell me what we are celebrating.”

“MC,” Yoosung takes their hand in a serious way and even MC gets nervous. They want to ask what’s wrong, but Yoosung talks before they can. “I meant it when I told you I wanted to celebrate how much I love you. And… So I’ve organised all this. I wanted it to be perfect and…” he’s so nervous he’s starting to mess up the speech Zen and he had thought about!! He takes deep breaths. He only has to tell MC how he feels. “MC, I love you. I was so lost when I first met you. You gave me stability, a reason to fight, to grow up, to go on. You saw the potential in me and helped me seeing it too. You make me feel loved every day and… I want to feel like this forever,” by that moment, MC is sobbing, knowing what comes next, and Yoosung is fighting against tears as well. He takes the ring from his pocket. “MC, would you marry me?”

“Yes! Oh, Yoosung!” they embrace him and he puts the ring on their finger, both of them crying and chuckling as he does. MC kisses him and he returns it. They’ve never been happier.

Zen

He’s a romantic baby, so he’d take MC to the roof of his place on a night in which there was a meteor shower, since that was the first place where they saw the stars together

He’d decorate it with a picnic blanquet, some drinks, his guitar and MC and he would spend a romantic night singing under the light of the stars.

The first stars start falling and Zen encourages MC to say their wishes aloud, just for fun.

“I wish the next RFA guest doesn’t do weird questions!”

Zen and MC fool around for some time until Zen suddenly kneels in front of MC and says:

“I wish the brightest star married me,” he takes a ring from his pocket, looking at MC with a deep blush on his cheeks, his look serious.

MC takes their hands to their mouth and throws themselves into his arms.

“Yes!!”

Jaehee

She’s been wanting to propose to MC for some time, but since the tradition says that a man has to be the one proposing, she feels very self-conscious about it.

One day she finds the ring that would go perfectly well around MC’s finger and she finds herself buying it.

She can’t bring herself to give it to MC, so she just thinks about waiting for their birthday to have an excuse to give them a ring… But she really wants to marry them!!

Finally, she asks Zen for advice, and he says that she definitely has to propose!!!

So one day Jaehee takes MC to the venue where the first RFA party they coordinated was held.

“Jaehee, what are we doing here?” MC chuckles.

“MC, once I made you a proposal here which changed my life forever. I asked you to be my partner in my dream business and you said yes, which made me the happiest woman in my life,” her voice is trembling a little, and she is blushing lightly, but she continues. MC widens their eyes, realising what is happening. “I want this happiness to last forever and I want you to be my partner in life, so…” Jaehee feels too self-conscious to kneel, but she takes the ring out of her purse. “Would you marry me?”

“Of course I will!”

Jumin

Well, he already proposed once, but lets say that MC turned him down in the privacy of Jumin’s penthouse because they had only known each other for 11 days and stuff.

He would like the next time to be completely different than the previous one since MC seemed to have said “yes” at first because of the pressure they felt in front of all those people.

Thus, he books the entire restaurant with the most beautiful views in Korea and takes MC there for dinner. They order some wine and have a lovely dinner with the live music of some violins and a piano. MC is surprised that he has booked the entire restaurant, but it’s not really the first time Jumin goes over the top to do something romantic.

Then Jumin leads them to the roof, which he had had decorated with rose petals and candles on the floor and other flowers. MC looks around them, surprised and marvelled at the beautiful scenery, the views, and how everything is so perfect. When they turn around, Jumin is kneeling with a ring in his hands.

“MC, the first time I proposed to you, I didn’t do it the right way. I believe now, with your help, I have become a better man, truly worthy of your love, and I don’t think I would be too presumptuous if I said you think so too. MC, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you marry me?”

There’s only an answer: “yes.”

707

His brother was tired of Seven’s crazy experiments with robots, more so after their house was almost burnt to ashes twice, so he had decided to teach him how to draw so that he could distract himself with other stuff. Seven, of course, had taken the chance for that to be a “bonding activity between the tomato brothers” and had agreed to it more than willingly. That was when Seven found himself designing rings he thought would look good on MC.

“… what’s this?” Saeran asked.

“Oh, just some doodles,” Seven replied. “Don’t you think they’d look good on MC?” he’d say with a dreamy smile.

“You have to propose,” Saeran would say. MC had been really helpful in his recovery and they had grown really close, so he wanted his brother and them to get married before they changed their mind about being with him or something.

He would help Seven organising everything, not really trusting his brother’s skills organising… anything. They took one of Seven’s drawings to a jewellery store to see if it could be done (Seven still had an insane amount of money from when he was an agent, so that wasn’t a problem), and they replied affirmatively.

Finally, the day arrived. MC woke up to find the bed next to them empty, and they wondered why. They went out to find Saeran with an envelope which he gave to them. They took it with a puzzled expression and read its content as they had breakfast. That envelope led them to those places Seven and them frequented or where they had made special memories, and there they found more envelopes which indicated them where to go.

Finally, they arrived to one of Seven’s car, Saeran in it. He gave MC a last envelope. 

“Don’t open it yet,” he instructed them. He started riding and MC recognised the road. They were going to the beach. Saeran stopped the car near it. It was already night when they got there. MC opened the envelope and widened their eyes when he read it was a ticket to the space station.

They got down the car and followed the way Saeran had indicated them until they saw Seven. There was a spaceship-shaped towel on the sand and he patted the spot next to him so that they sat down. They saw the sky full of stars and they looked at Seven, whose blush was noticeable even in that faint light.

He kneeled before them and took the ring.

“I have always feel my life was miserable, that I didn’t deserve anything good or beautiful… until you arrived. You helped me overcome my fears, my traumas, to fight. You gave me a reason to live. MC, I want to live feeling like this all my life. I didn’t need to go to the outer space to find my place. My place is next to you. Would you marry me?”

“Yes!” MC finally exclaims, embracing him and making both of them fall on the sand. “Of course I will.”

V

MC and he had gone to Paris for one of V’s art exhibitions. There, V realised that none of that would have been possible if MC hadn’t suddenly appeared in his life. He would have never overcome his toxic relationship with Rika, have surgery and, finally, decided to pursue his dream of being an artist. He would have never realised what is like to be truly loved.

He looked at MC under the lights of the French city and realised that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with them. He had always known it, but he thought he wanted to make it official.

“MC, can you wait here for a second?” he asked them and MC nodded, confused, sitting on a bench.

So V rushed to the nearest jewellery store he found and bought a ring for MC. He went back to them, his heart rushing from the nerves and the exercise, and MC looked up at him with an expectant and puzzled expression.

V kneeled in front of them, unable to wait a moment longer, and took the ring, making MC widen their eyes in surprise.

“MC, thank you. Thank you for being the love of my life, for helping me throughout everything, helping me fix what was wrong in my life. Thank you for loving me and teaching me so much about love. Thank you for being there as I fulfilled my dreams. I want to be the same for you. I want to love you as you love me, I want to help you pursuing your dreams and to be there when you do. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. MC, would you marry me?”

MC was already nodding at the beginning of his speech, but when he finished it, they threw themselves on his arms uttering a “yes” between tears of joy.

Saeran

He’s had it prepared for so long. He has rehearsed it a million times, taken MC to all these special places, but when it comes the moment of proposing, he always freaks out and backs off.

So he ends up proposing one day, out of the blue.

It’s a lazy afternoon. MC and he are watching a film on the sofa and Saeran is suddenly struck with how much he loves them. How happy he is just being there, lying on the couch with MC and how he would spend the rest of his life just like that.

It’s something casual, nothing special, but it’s because of these moments that he is in love with MC. Because he can live them and MC makes them valuable.

So he suddenly blurts out the words.

“MC, would you marry me?”

MC looks at him in surprise, far from expecting it, and it’s at that moment that he realises what he’s just said. So he quickly looks for the ring in his pocket (he’s been keeping it there for so long) and kneels before them.

MC starts crying.

“Yes. Yes, of course I will.”

Vanderwood

He’s a perfectionist, so he would make sure eveything was absolutely perfect before proposing. Nevertheless, nothing seemed to be as perfect as it should, so he would find himself postponing it.

He was starting to give up, which upset him. He really wanted to propose, but all the stress and fears that involved by itself (the risks of MC saying no, and that making them uncomfortable, of nothing going on as planned or as perfect as it had to be for MC, MC agreeing out of pity, etc) together with his OCD was making it an impossible task.

MC noticed he was upset, so they decided to organise a dinner for him. He was received home that day with a beautifully arranged table, a delicious dinner and the person he loved most in the world being there for him to cheer him up, even though he had never told them he was upset or why. He smiled and, after the dessert, kneeled before them and took their hand.

“Vanderwood?” they asked, confused.

“MC, I love you. More than anything,” MC’s heart started racing in their chest, unable to believe what was happening. “You love me and accept me just the way I am, but you also help me become a better man every day. I spend most of my days looking for things to be perfect, and everything that involves you is just that.” He would take the ring out of his pocket. “MC, would you marry me?”

The answer was also perfect: yes.

Headcanons Masterlist

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