#where their parents’ couldn’t or wouldn’t

[thetrasha]

His Love Is…

STRAW HAT EDITION

LUFFY

...freeing.

Luffy lives wholly in the moment and seeks adventure, often attracting trouble wherever he goes. He is so unapologetically, authentically himself that nobody can help themselves – their true colours come forth around him; he brings out the best and the worst in people, depending on their personal moral compass. He is a beacon of hope, so bright and warm, so lively and wild. Anyone would believe in happiness and a purpose when travelling with him, but his forever allegiance lies with you because you complement him. You nurture his freedom-driven explorations because you believe in him, you believe in your friends and Luffy sparked that same assuredness in yourself, too. You were pulled into his world as soon as you met him, but neither of you expected you to merge your visions for a happy world. He made you feel hopeful, softer, kinder… you don’t have to pretend anymore. He knows that you’ve been so strong for too long. He’s seen it, that’s why he recruited you. That magnetic pull towards you was magical and it made him want to pursue a world where you wouldn’t have to hide to save face anymore. He wanted you to peer into his eyes and see you in them.

You deserve to be free.

ZORO

…thorough.

Zoro is a fiercely independent man who chases his dream and does everything he can to ensure that his end goal won’t be up to fate – his success, due to his efforts, can’t be measured in probabilities, they’re certainties. One of his core beliefs is that he’s the architect of his own future, that he can carve out his own path and mould the world to his liking if he just tries hard enough. He doesn’t care how arduous his chosen path is, he’ll gladly face every challenge and shoulder every bit of pain… since he’s confident enough that he won’t break under pressure. You’ve been an unmovable force, a damn thorn in his side, for quite some time now, you’re so stubborn in your care for him that he couldn’t help but perceive you – truly perceive you. He admired your spirit, acknowledged your quiet strength and continuos efforts. He sees himself mirrored in your soul because you’ve been with him so consistently. He’d adopted your habits without him noticing. Your presence makes him want to be a man you can be proud of. He’d promise to take better care of himself and try his best to be open about his emotions with you. He made you feel confident, whole and equal. He’ll take on your demons if you, as his equal, help him confront his.

You deserve to be protected.

USOPP

…kind.

People say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and you don’t quite understand that sentiment until Usopp isn’t around for you to lean on one day. Maybe he’s been assigned to stay back and watch the ship, maybe he’s looking at cute little trinkets near the harbour… whatever it is, you suddenly realise that Usopp is the glue that keeps this crew together. He is so open-minded and funny that everyone feels welcome in his presence; he turns your friend group into a community and he makes you feel included in every aspect of his life, shares every conversation with you and trusts you blind. He is devoted to your comfort because you look behind the carefully-constructed mask he wears, you take over when his social battery has run dry and you reassure him that both of his parents would be proud of the person he’s become. He feels a connection to you that goes beyond usual conventions. Most often, he cannot even put it into words how lucky he thinks he is. He is loyal to you and wants you to view him as part of your family. He dreams of watching you achieve your dreams with him as your forever home and save haven.

You deserve to be seen.

SANJI

…gentle.

Sanji loves to make people feel special and strives to do better. If he can put a smile on someone’s face, he’s done his deed and he lawfully approaches every day with the same quaint attitude. He knows that life can be hard – it can be so, so hard. That’s exactly why he cannot stand anyone piling onto someone else’s plight. Maybe that’s why he’s taken such a liking to you. You’re just like him, eager to make yourself useful and help your friends whenever you can… at the same time, just like him, you don’t see your own worth. A happy relationship grows out of an ironically selfish desire to make you see yourself for who you are. He naively thought that helping you would help him, but all it did was reveal your innermost thoughts and feelings and he found himself so in tune with you that he, as a hopeless romantic, finally felt like he’s found his match. Sanji can be intense and he knows it, you are great at communicating your likes and dislikes and he treasures your honestly. Knowing that he’s your safe place has him seeing stars whenever you’re near, you’re that important to him. Also, your sweetness only fuels his desire for a happy world, and he’ll be by your side for as long as you’ll have him.

You deserve to be cared for.

FRANKY

…exciting.

Franky knows that he’s unconventional. His life’s work literally breathed life into him and gave him a second chance at the game. His mind is so vast and feeds on his own curiosity and his longing for spectacular experiences. He is the heart of any party and entertains every joke, every conversation and loves seeing just how diverse people can be in personality and looks alike. It makes him feel less like an anomaly and more like an appreciator of surprises. He knows that he’s bold, passionate and confident, but you cared enough to explore all parts of his personality like it was second nature. You stuck around, watched him tinkering away well into the deep night when the mood turns sombre, and you never seemed to mind. No, when he went quiet, you started talking his ear off… just to cheer him up. That sold him on the idea of a relationship. He thinks so highly of you, thinks that your energy works super well with his natural charm and he adores bouncing off of different topics with your much appreciated input. You complete him in ways he didn’t think were possible. Your creativity and ideas for silly project make the gears in his head turn and before you know it, you’re both drafting up a blueprint for a gimmick nobody but you two would ever appreciate.

You deserve to smile.

BROOK

…deep.

Brook inspires people effortlessly. He encourages everyone to chase their dreams and stroll about the path of life at their own pace and on their own terms. He’s known hardships and he wishes to shield others from those feelings of melancholy and sorrow, even if he knows that working through every bit of pain gives one the tools to walk through life with a little more resilience. Still, he wishes to influence people with his music and give them a break from their everyday troubles, make them forget… it makes him feel useful, like he’s a part of something that makes being somewhat alive truly worth it. You saw right through that… immediately, too. You two were in complete harmony, you understood him wordlessly and the way you carried your own baggage with pride, shockingly, inspired him. You made him feel like his entire existence amounted to something. He longs for a soul-binding connection and a strong, secure relationship. Brook may need some time to trust and let go, but once he’s in, you’ve found a partner for life. He just wishes you’d look at yourself with the same innocent wonder you grace him with, laugh at your own jokes the way you laugh at his – you’re his muse, his everything. Life isn’t quite as scary when you’re with him, he knows that you can rely on each other as he slowly copes with his decades old loneliness with you by his side.

You deserve to trust.

JINBE

...easy.

Jinbe was so wise, so admirable, so… him. It was impossible to not feel secure in his presence. He’d always been naturally observant and thus, caring for others is second nature to him. Expressing his emotions isn’t a matter of pride for him, he’s just so easy-going and calm that he may seem cold to those who don’t know him, but his heart is always set aflame from passion alone. He feels and thinks deeply about others, engages in soul-searching conversation and never shies away from giving a good piece of advice to those who might want it. Without even thinking about it, he started taking care of you and remembered the little things that mattered – he wasn’t just available, he was there. Jinbe made you feel like your problems didn’t matter so much, he’s seen you through your highest highs and lowest lows, and it didn’t matter once. He only saw your heart, your soul, your mind… and he adored it all, no matter what you thought about it. You were a part of his crew, his friends, his family… knowing that you were just as fond of him as he was of you was a blessing. His love is mature, deeply respectful, and binds your souls together. You feel as though you are one.

You deserve to heal.

[bemusedlybespectacled]

I don’t have kids of my own, so I’m genuinely of two minds about it.

On the one hand, I have a legal responsibility to my clients that I wouldn’t to my own kids and vice versa. If my client is doing drugs, I not only have zero obligation to tell anyone about it or do anything, but I am forbidden from doing so. If, however, my own kid was doing drugs and I didn’t tell anyone or do anything about it, I would be on the wrong side of a child neglect report. When my one teenage client went on the run, she kept in touch with me because I couldn’t tell anyone where she was, even though there was a real possibility that she could die if she wasn’t found. My first obligation to a client is to advocate for what they want, not what’s best for them, even if what they want is the worst possible thing for them and even could lead to their death. I don’t think I could legally or morally do that with my own kids.

On the other hand, I strongly believe in letting kids have autonomy and the ability to make mistakes. I think kids should have stuff explained to them (even “non-age-appropriate stuff” like drug addiction) in a way that they understand, instead of keeping things from them. I think kids doing developmentally-appropriate stuff (not being the best at self-control or emotional control, testing rules, hanging out with people their parents don’t like, etc.) is normal and fine and that social skills are skills that can be learned, not something innate. So like, I don’t like the idea of being a helicopter parent out of a misplaced sense of it “being the best thing for them” or treating them as extensions of myself, but I know it’s possible that still might happen because of my obligation to protect them that I don’t have for my clients.

So, yeah, genuinely torn about how I’d handle things if I had my own kids.

When I am appointed to represent a child, my first action is to separate them from their parents and tell them the following things:

1. I am their attorney. I do not work for their parent or the judge or the cops. I don’t care what any of those people want.

2. My job is to listen to them and try and make what they want happen in court. (At this point I make a joke about how most people want me to get them out of trouble but if someone wanted to be in trouble I would do my best.)

3. What they tell me is confidential. It goes nowhere unless they agree to it. (If old enough, I talk to them about mandatory reporters, and how I’m a mandatory non reporter.)

4. I will give them lots of advice because I’ve been doing court for a while and I know a lot about it, and they don’t. It’s all really complicated, and if they don’t understand what’s happening it’s my job to help them figure it out.

5. They will make the decisions. (At this point I usually have to reassure them that I’ll help, I’ll speak for them in front of the judge, and I’ve got their back. It’s scary to have an adult say you’re in charge, most of the time.)

6. I tell them I know it’s absolutely wild to have some stranger come in here and say “hey, you can trust me!” and that I get if they don’t believe everything right away, because I plan to show them through my actions and my words that I’ll fight for them.

7. But nonetheless, I will treat them like a person who can make decisions, because they are living their life and I am not.

I do not:

Pretend to be cool.

Try to be their BFF.

Overwhelm them with detail.

Let their parents in the room until the kid asks for them. (I provide openings for this, and ask if the kid wants their parent to help them remember and understand.)

I want to emphasize I went into this job knowing nothing about how to interact with vulnerable populations, especially children. The training was minimal, and my role means that I can literally walk into a facility and get an unmonitored visit with a minor client one on one.

In my years of practice I have never felt threatened by a child, even one that was “violent” and “unstable.” It turns out just saying “hi, I think you’re a person with thoughts” is wildly successful? Now people treat me like I have special Child Whisperer powers. My powers are that I ask the child what’s up and I’m not scared to say things that are objectively awkward. I know nothing about anything.

[petrichoravis]

Deep in a daydream. | s.r.

summery: Spencer has baby fever while watching you take care of a child victim.

word count: 2k

what to expect: spencer reid x cps!reader, implied fem reader otherwise nondescript, established relationship, angst and mention of case details (murder of parents in front of child), fluff so much fluff!!! English is not my first language.

a/n: picture credit to @reidgif !! if that gif didn’t exist this fic wouldn’t either, so thank u for your service. (fic that won in this poll)

──── ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ❀⋆

Spencer had the distinct thought that he had fallen in love with you with a slight bias.

He was very aware that, because of his job and lifestyle, having children of his own would be irresponsible to the child and other parent.

But watching as you crouched down to talk to the small girl the team had rescued on their recent case was like a wave crashing down over him and taking him with the current.

Spencer had always wanted kids of his own, but he fought with the thought that it was unfair to have a child in his current life state. Seeing you make her laugh after she went through the most traumatic thing a person could go through muted that fear.

He knew you could handle every situation that involved children with grace, it came with your job, but

All his head was screaming was ‘I want to have a child with you’.

There were days when he woke up in the middle of the night, with you sleeping next to him, and wondered what it would be like to be woken up by your daughter or son because they were having a nightmare or simply wanted to cuddle.

The way you would groggily reach out one arm and let them cuddle close, the way Spencer would wrap his arms around both of you and kiss the back of your child’s head.

It wasn’t something you spoke about lightly, always cautious and considerate of a person that didn’t even exist yet. It made him want to forget every rational thought you had just discussed.

Now, watching you ask the girl for the name of her puppet, watching the smile spread on your face as she told you that she didn’t have a name and you could name her, it was the knife and the balm at the same time.

He leaned against the doorframe of the interrogation room you had fought to make look less intimidating and more like a children’s playroom. After the officers reluctantly gave you the green light to do whatever you wanted, you went out to bring pillows and toys back to the station. With the team’s help, of course.

Now the room was all soft and colorful, the pillows had leaves on them and little Ruby had enough toys for a lifetime of fun. You had even covered the one-way mirror with a big, pink blanket that had unicorns on it after asking her what her favorite animal was.

If you treated a child that wasn’t yours like that, how would you treat one that was? Spencer let his imagination roam freely.

A mistake. Soon, he was deep in a daydream of spilled foods, stroller rides in the park, first days of school, laughter chasing through hallways. His mind created a world around the three of you.

A gasp made his gaze snap back to you and the agent in him flinched to the ready. But his worries were soothed by a louder giggle.

You and little Ruby were dancing. Or, well, something that could be interpreted as something akin to it, anyway. It was more of a wiggle.

“Whoa, where did you learn those moves?” You asked, laughing, spinning her around.

“My mommy and I always dance.” She replied, then stopped short.

Ruby’s parents were killed in front of her just a couple of hours ago and you had been able to bring a smile back onto her face with a lot of hard work. But it was inevitable that something would remind her of what happened and made it all come crashing down on her little shoulders again.

Your face betrayed no pity, just plain understanding and empathy. “You like dancing?”

She nodded weakly, clutching her puppet. Spencer couldn’t watch the way her lower lip quivered. “With mommy. I want my mommy.”

“I know, Rubs, but she’s not gone. She is watching over you and protecting you in her own way, still. As much as your little head is trying to tell you that she’s gone, she will always live on in the memories you have with her. Every time you dance or don’t want to eat your veggies, she is smiling and shaking her head fondly.”

Ruby sniffled, but her tears had stopped flowing. “I want her to come back.”

You crouched down, opening your arms to give her the choice, “I know, lovely.”

Waddling into your arms, she let you hug her while she kept hugging her doll. Spencer didn’t know if he was still allowed to watch this heartfelt moment.

It was after a minute that you pulled away to wipe her tears off her cheeks with gentle thumbs and tucked her black hair behind her ears. “Okay?”

A nod was all you got, but it was everything you needed. You stood up and turned to Spencer, which confirmed what he suspected; you knew he was there the whole time.

As Ruby saw Spencer, she shied away, hiding behind your legs immediately.

He crouched down to be less intimidating. “Hello, Ruby.” He said softly. “I’m Spencer.”

Despite his attempts to make himself smaller, the little girl said nothing to his introduction, her hands stayed glued to your leg.

You smile at Spencer and turned to face Ruby, crouching, too. “He’s one of the good guys, I swear, Rubs.”

Spencer could only just hear her response of a breathy, “yeah?” and almost melted.

Nodding, you reassured her with a hand on her back. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

The whites of her eyes became more and she nodded eagerly, seemingly having forgotten that Spencer stood just a few steps away or that she was ever scared of his presence. And what she was just crying about.

He couldn’t handle the way you adjusted your wording to sound less harsh, the way you were so tuned in to the little girl. It was giving him a really hard time to do the same.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you nodded, whispering the words like a four-year-old would tell the news to her friends.

Ruby gasped again and glanced at Spencer over your shoulder. “Really?” Her shock was obvious in every one of her features.

At your nod, she got even shyer, but also more curious. She stepped forward to inspect Spencer closely, who was still crouching in front of her.

“Hey, Ruby,” Spencer tried again, holding out a hand.

She just looked at the hand and then at him. ��Hi, Spencer. I like your sweater.”

Laughing, but trying not to be too loud as not to intimidate her more, he pulled his hand back. “Thank you,” he looked down at his sweater, then at you with a smile, his voice changed just slightly, “Santa gave it to me on Christmas.”

“I like Santa.” She said excitedly, pulling his attention back to her. “He always brings me what I want.”

“Yeah, Santa is awesome, isn’t he?” He wasn’t really equipped to handle a four-year-old girl who had just lost her parents and was really hoping his awkwardness wasn’t something Ruby picked up on. But she was the age where children were highly attuned to every nonverbal social clue and internalized it, so his chances were slim.

You came to his rescue. “Ruby, do you want to play a game with us? Or draw something?”

She didn’t even answer as she excitedly ran towards the table that had crayons, colored pencils and paper on it. “I already know what I wanna draw!”

Standing up, you took a step to stand next to Spencer, leaning your head on his shoulder. His hand went to your back immediately.

“Hi,” you mumbled contentedly.

“Hey,” he said with his hand rubbing your back. “Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

You had a deep appreciation for the way Spencer was always able to see you so clearly. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You hoped it was enough for him to see that the exhaustion was there, but that it wasn’t pulling you down.

Ruby kept drawing and you kept watching her. It was easy to forget that you weren’t proud, loving parents watching your child draw a picture of your life.

When she was done, Ruby hopped off the chair with the drawing clutched in her tiny hands. “Look! I drew you a beach! And there’s a dolphin and a sea pony playing together.”

“It’s so pretty, Ruby.” You were grinning from ear to ear, just like she was. “Do you think I could put it on my desk? So I can see it every day and think of you?”

“Yeah!”

“Thank you so much.” She scrunched her nose at you as you ruffled her hair, but it was clear to everyone in the room that it was a fond, admiring look. “Would you draw Spence one, too?”

She glanced at Spencer, the shyness back like a push of a button. But she nodded weakly and scrambled back to her desk.

The social workers picked her up and she finished her picture just before they arrived. You followed them out of the room and crouched down to hug her tightly.

“Here,” she whispered in your ear and pulled back to hand you the paper. “I hope he loves it.”

You looked down at the picture and almost started crying. “He will.” You reassured her, trying to rein in your emotions.

The goodbye was a hard one, but it was safe to say that you would visit little Ruby even after she found her new home.

Behind you, Spencer had walked up to you and glanced over your shoulder to look at what Ruby drew for him.

What he saw made him speechless.

Ruby had drawn two stick figures that looked a lot like the two of you. Your hair and eye color, your work attire. Spencer’s messy brown hair was drawn with looped pencil strokes and she even tried to draw the complicated knitting pattern of his sweater.

Between the two of you was a heart that read your name plus Spence.

“Oh,” Spencer didn’t even realize that he had made the noise before you turned.

With a smile on your face you said, clearly joking, “How come that I get the beach and you get this on your desk?”

He laughed gently, taking the drawing from you, looking at it for a moment before looking at you. You were watching Ruby get escorted out.

“She’s a strong kid.” You said with a deep sigh. Spencer’s eyes were glued to the side of your face. “I just hope she finds the right family.”

He had to stop himself from blurting out the thought he was toying with. Maybe we could take care of her until she has another family to call her own?

Of course, you couldn’t. There were too many papers to fill out and, while both of you had the credentials that would inspire trust, Spencer doubted the authorities would make exceptions for you.

It would be unfair to Ruby, too. To give her a temporary family, just to have it ripped away from her again. Once was enough.

But you looked so good, conjuring the big smile onto her face, so in your element that Spencer forgot all the logical things.

He registered that you were still talking to him and snapped out of his reverie. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you wanted to cook something at my place and watch a movie.” You repeated, laughing softly. “Where’s your genius brain wandering to now? Any statistics I should know about?”

Spencer didn’t know how to tell you that the only statistics in his head revolved around the benefits of creating a family. (With him. Now.) “N-nothing, I’m just tired. Movie sounds good.”

You squinted at him. “Right…” you dragged out. “Let’s go, then.”

A quiet breath left Spencer’s mouth as you took his hand into yours and dropped the topic. For now, eventually, he hoped to bring it up again as a fond memory when you had a little one of your own.

──────── ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ❀⋆

thank you for reading! support by reblogging or commenting encourages your favorite writers to write more, feedback is appreciated!!

[vanilleandclove]

let the light in; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader

the trials of postpartum can strain any relationship especially when your husband is rarely home from work. sometimes you wonder if you’re living the life you envisioned for yourself a decade ago.

warnings: blood- a lot of it. postpartum depression, sleep deprivation, asthma attacks, surgery scars, just found out sylvester stallone is a trump supporter (FUCK YOU), breastfeeding, some terrible parents, anti-vaxxers (get vaccinated i swear to god), arguing word count: 7.9k notes: i’ve seen & had that eye exam done on me, i still have the scar! however, it’s my eyeliner guideline. so sorry for my lack of updates, i am currently on summer break & i am an aspiring film/screenwriter so that has been occupying my time! chat with me at any time, love you all, thank you for your support and patience. 

prev

MONTH ONE

The first month the majority of it was spent in the hospital, you were bedridden due to the constant bouts of blood hemorrhaging; something that only scared the shit out of Jack. You’d get better, your blood count would improve but as soon as it reached a level that you could potentially be discharged, you’d hemorrhage. This last time, Jack swore he was about to lose you, so he found solace in seeing your baby girl during the times Jenna forced him out of the room. 

“Your mom’s a fighter hon” he spoke to the incubator, playing with your daughter’s tiny hand through the gloved side, she was kicking like no tomorrow. When she would cry, it’d be soft and quiet, he swore she cooed at least once. 

She smiled slightly from the comment, Jack wasn’t too sure if it was the combined 6 hours of sleep he had gotten that week playing tricks on his brain or reality.

After a good two hours, Jenna cleared him to go back into the room, letting your mom take over to watch your daughter. So far, she’s been good, constantly checking up on her on the times you and Jack couldn’t; he still wouldn’t let her in the room.

“Abbot I need to speak with you” Jenna whispered just before he entered the room, his eyes were tired, his body was giving up, but his ears perked from her statement, “She went into hypovolemic shock, she lost about 25% of her blood. I’m not saying she’s circling but, now’s the time I need you to make a decision”. 

“What? About what? She was just talking to all of us this morning and you- you want me to figure- what are you saying?” Jack shook his head, “We wanted this- I should’ve just-“.

“Jack, there is nothing you or Y/n could’ve done to prevent this. She’s in stage 2 still, I don’t see it becoming stage 3 unless there’s an incident where I’m not here. We gave her two transfusions today so she might be feverish. So far she isn't rejecting medication or fluid, we still want to move her to the ICU as soon as a bed opens up”. 

When he walked into the room, he could smell the pungent remnants of blood, even with all the cleaning, he saw you fast asleep, color drained from you. 

His first instinct was to rub your knee that had felt even more bony, grabbing your hand that was becoming veiny. You were breathing faster than usual, your skin was cold but not clammy, he checked your pulse and felt the rapid beating of your heart. 

“I’ll come back when I argue with these fucking people in the ICU- won’t leave until they have a bed ready” Jenna cleared her throat.

“Can you get her mom- Y/m/n, she’s in the NICU?” Jack’s voice broke. Jenna nodded to him before tapping on the doorframe and leaving. 

There were flowers from the entire emergency department in your room, Diego’s family who had heard the news when he was due for a checkup, Heather who had brought both of you change of clothes and covers every other day. 

“We are not having sex again” You groaned, waking up on the floor of Jack’s carpeted hotel room, Jack who was right next to you. The sheets entangled the two of you. 

PTMC’s annual company getaway for attendings and department heads, this time celebrated in the beloved city of Albany for some reason. When Gloria had broken the news about the location, only a select few were interested. You and Jack had to pry Robby out of his house to experience the outside world, Heather and him had just called it quits, Heather was fine- Robby, not so much. 

“What even happened?” Jack stretched, admiring the exposed skin and breast from you moving beneath the sheets. Your hair was disheveled, skin supple and the sunlight hit it just perfectly through the blinds, “I love you”. 

You looked at him the moment the words came out, “I look like a mess- I’m pretty sure that’s my mascara smeared on the pillow and my nose is severely clogged” you laughed, the congestion not easing up. “You and rough sex need to be studied- intensively”. 

“May have gone a little too hard, I’m sorry love” he apologized, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your shoulder. 

“A little?” you scoffed, “Don’t worry Doctor Abbot, I for one, enjoyed every last moment” you teased, capturing his lips in the process, “I love you” you muttered as you kissed. 

It was a memory Jack fondly recalled during times of arguing, or now, where he didn’t know if there was going to be another day. 

“Oh my god” he heard a voice emerge from the door, it was your mom, heart breaking at the sight of you with the wires connected to you, the blood bag giving you a transfusion, your rapid heartbeat. “She’s going to- this isn’t goodbye- Jack tell me this isn’t-“.

“No. It’s not, I just knew you wanted to see her, when they move her to ICU you might not be able to” Jack shrugged off her anxiety little by little. “She’s strong, not letting up on anything, every medication she’s not rejecting. Jenna gave her 2 of epi and one of levophed”. 

“What could- how did this happen?”.

“Her scans were clear, nothing to do with the cesarean, they’re hoping it’s just from postpartum- gives her a higher fighting chance” Jack answered, “When she gets to the ICU, they’ll do more tests”. 

“I’ll stay with the baby” she whispered, giving you a kiss on your forehead, “They took her away for some eye exam”. 

“They’re opening her eyes?” Jack’s heart broke, he’s seen the procedure a handful of times, it was brutal, they’d force the baby’s eyes open, it would sometimes scar. 

“You both are doing the best that’s allowed Jack, let me take care of your baby, you take care of mine”. 

MONTH TWO

“Can you help me up?” You croaked, just about to spit out phlegm. Jack immediately helped you up, rubbing your back as you spit up. A small blood clot came out alongside your phlegm from the intubation tube. 

“It’s normal love” he rubbed your back more and more, your throat raw and hurting, you were out of the ICU, this was seemingly your last week of being in the hospital.

They were able to coordinate visits with you and your baby twice a day, sometimes once if you or her were asleep. You wanted to cry every time you saw your baby, more wires attached to her, you wanted to take away her aches and pain as she grew stronger. 

“Do you have water?”.

“You have an I.V. baby, 30 minutes post-intubation I’ll give you some” he sighed, kissing your cracked lips, “How are you feeling?”. 

“Fine, all things considered” you answered, eyes staring at the clock, “How’s our baby?”.

“She’s good, surprisingly she’s growing out of the apnea quickly” Jack told you, “She has your eyes”. 

“No PDA? NEC?”.

“Mild case of NEC, her heart is strong” he answered, “A little jaundice, nothing too extreme, blood is good, she’s sneezing”.

“She’s sneezing?” your eyes betrayed you as you began to tear up, “Can I see her?”.

“After 30 minutes baby” he told you, kissing your forehead, “What do you want to eat?”.

“Pizza”.

“Non-greasy, bland, prison food requests” Jack clarified.

“Turkey sandwich is fine- or mashed potatoes” you shrugged, your arm was bruised from the I.V. 

“I’ll be back” he replied, grabbing his phone in the process of leaving. 

MONTH THREE

“Fuck” you groaned, your nipples not producing any sort of milk, “How am I gonna get her to latch there’s nothing”.

“She’s doing fine on formula honey, don’t strain your stomach” Jack muttered, holding your tiny baby girl in his arms, she got the clear to go home last week. 

“I want to breastfeed, she deserves a mom who can breastfeed her” you grit your teeth, no amount of pumping would draw enough milk for her. 

“Okay stop” Jack sighed, placing your baby in the bassinet that stayed by your bed, “It’s okay, she came early, your body didn’t have time to-“.

“Produce milk” you scoffed, your breasts were engorged all things considered, still, no milk, “I can’t even- she cries when I hold her” you began to tear up, “It’s like she doesn’t even feel that I’m her mom” beginning to slightly start to heave, you looked at the tiny baby in the bassinet, “She sees me the same way I saw my mom”. 

Jack could only sigh and rub your knees, “No she does not” he told you, “Look at me, please?”. He didn’t continue until you glanced up into his eyes, “She senses your worry- that’s why she cries, she knows you tense up and worried you’re going to hurt her. She loves you so much, she doesn’t want her mom to worry”. 

You sniffled, “What if I can’t do this?”.

Jack chuckled, looking between you and your baby, “You loved her before she was even thought of” he placed a kiss on your kneecap, “You and I are going to do this, together”. 

Your tiny baby squirmed and sneezed in her sleep, mending your shattered heart, “Beats having a clogged milk duct at least” you made light of the situation, placing a kiss on your baby girl, seeing her coo in response. 

MONTH THREE + A HALF

You cursed yourself for being a jinx, it was Fourth of July and everyone gathered around Robby’s backyard. Normally, you and Jack host, but since you two have become parents, the house has been a mess. 

You sniffled as you tried to ease the pain of your clogged milk duct, slowly massaging yourself in Robby’s bathroom. Defeated, you decided to text Heather to get Jack. It took less than three minutes for him to be next to you as you pleaded to just solve the damn problem.

“Can you just- just suck it out?” you embarrassingly asked, annoyed and irate from the pain and uncomfortable heaviness. 

“Are you sure?” he asked blankly.

“No. I’m just saying this to turn you on- yes! Please” you sarcastically threw out, as much as this could be a fantasy, you were angry and in pain, “Who has the baby?”.

“Heather took her upstairs for a nap” Jack told you, taking off the straps from your bra to reveal his own personal fantasy, “Wow”.

“You’re turned on from this?” you quirked a brow, “I hope you know a glob-“

“Yea yea I know what fatty milk feels like-“.

“Oh really?” you teased, offering your breast to your husband, “Don’t gag or else if this happens again I’m going to Jenna”. 

MONTH FOUR

“‘You sure you’re okay with working? You can always take a half shift” Dana asked you, it was your first time outside of the house longer than thirty minutes. 

You had to admit, you missed the feeling of your baby on your skin, her tiny coos. She wasn’t that much of a crier, it became worrisome when she’d just laugh things off from things that would objectively hurt a newborn. Fell down on her face on accident? Laughed it off. Scary game of Peak-A-Boo with daddy? Laughed it off. She lulled herself to sleep while laughing. 

“I need to be on my feet Dana” you shrugged, “Plus Jack wanted daddy-daughter time”. 

“How’s the baby?” Dana asked as you both approached the nurse’s station.

“She’s good, loves Jack more than me at this point” you joked, “Girl the spit up- I didn’t know tiny bodies could produce that much” you sympathized with her.

“No blowouts?”.

You shivered before looking at Dana, “You don’t wanna know” you shook your head.

“Doctor Y/n welcome back!” you heard a voice emerge from behind you. 

“Hola!” another tiny voice came into your earshot. 

Turning around you saw Diego and his mom, Serena, herself pregnant. You smiled at the pair, giving Diego a hug then Serena. 

“What brings you two here?” you asked, a tad bit of worry that it was an emergency. 

“Ah just OB check up, Jenna told me you were back and we wanted to say hi before we left” Serena answered, “I have to say, motherhood looks good on you” she added. 

“Thank you, cómo va la escuela Diego?” you nodded, putting your attention on the little boy. 

“Bueno, mi mamá recibió su y sus clases de español-inglés” Diego answered, taking a second to translate in his head, “We are doing well!”.

“Él está aprendiendo mejor que yo” she slightly butchered with her accent. 

“That’s wonderful, just know the vacation is still on the table- you have my number” you told her, bidding them both goodbyes. 

“I don’t get how you do it” Heather spoke up, looking at her charts, “Hell you and Samira neck and neck with patient satisfaction scores- probably holding all of us up collectively”.

You looked to your side to see Samira chatting up with a patient in North 4, you decided to give her a gift today by approaching her in the room, “Good morning Doctor Mohan”.

Her eyes lit up, bewildered by seeing you before excusing herself from the patient, “You’re back?” she smiled, slightly excited and nervous for what you were about to say.

“Since you’re a senior resident, I know you’re familiar about my certain formality to get physicians to maybe consider surgery-“.

“Yes” she immediately answered.

“Samira- formalities” you laughed, “Doctor Mohan would you like to scrub in with me for an exploratory laparotomy today?” you posed the question, her aggressive nodding and smile was enough. 

Luckily, you had two already prepped and ready, the first one would be with Samira’s assistance the next would be on your own. You felt your surgery scar lightly pump, it was slowly healing and forming a keloid from the pressure you put on yourself. 

“Well would you look at that?” you gasped, seeing metastatic cancer in your patient, she was 27 and coming in to see if her own leukemia was cleared, “Shit” you fully got a scope of the situation, seeing aggressiveness of the cancer throughout the woman’s body. 

One thing they don’t fully warn you about postpartum, your hormones take forever to regulate. Your eyes began to tear up and the walls began to slowly close in more and more. 

“Susan call in Walsh- now” you choked up, feeling your vision become to blur, gaining focus as you knew this woman needed your strength to give her a fighting chance. Taking as many samples as you could, closing her as quickly as your hands would allow. 

You left as quick as you could, taking out the phone you shoved in your pocket after talking to the nurse who sent her samples to pathology. 

Dialing Jack as quickly as you could, feeling like you needed to hear his and your baby’s noises.

“Hey baby” you sniffled, taking a seat on the floor.

“Hey, what’s up honey?” he yawned, “What happened?” he quipped early as he heard your sniffle.

“I- Uh- I had a patient, 27, Julian operated on her for leukemia; she’s been in remission for about two years. I did her lap today and she has mets all over her organs and I-“ you started to choke up, “Can I talk to our baby girl?” you asked, hearing Jack lightly shuffle.

“You’re on speaker”. 

“Hi my love” you cooed, “I miss you so much baby girl, Momma is going to be home soon okay? And you’ll get all the tummy kisses”. 

You heard her cooed lightly, feeling your heart swell up, mending the hurt.

MONTH FIVE

“Wanna have sex?” you posed the question as Jack was laid up on the bed, glasses and all with his stubble growing. 

It was Football Sunday, your baby loved to sleep in on Sundays as if she just knew. Her nursery was all decorated, settling on pale yellow and green for her color scheme. It was chilly in her room and you swore she snored just like Jack. 

He chuckled before taking off his glasses and taking his eyes off your television, looking at you at the edge of the bed, teddy lingerie clad on your body. “Baby” he muttered, slightly in a darker tone. 

“C’mon it’s been…” you looked at your phone to see the date, “Exactly 6 months since we had sex… little Abbot might just be angry at me”. 

“Do you want this?” he asked as you straddled on his lap, “I’ll take up your offer as long as you’re not gonna be in pain” he continued. His hands found themselves on your hips, caressing your ass softly. 

“Since when did Jack Abbot not want to have rough sex with his wife?”.

“Since I almost saw you die after birth” he quickly quipped, killing the mood instantly.

You never once got off Jack quicker in your life, if anything you took any chance to climb your husband. Biting your lip before returning to the bathroom where your pajamas were laid on the floor, walking out quick as you could to prepare your and Jack’s breakfast and wake up your baby.

“Baby” he spoke up as he heard you sniffle walking throughout the house, baby in your arm cooing lightly as she looked at her mom. 

You took a breath, “Not in front of her” you replied, “I can’t have this conversation in front of our daughter”.

“When are we going to?” he struggled with his emotions, fixing his prosthetic that was locking too uncomfortably, “We haven’t once talked about it. Either I’m at work, you’re at work, or we are both deflecting with her”.

“Okay no- correction, you’re at work for insane hours and on the off chance I pick up a shift, it just happens that you aren’t working” you quipped back as you got out the pancake mix, “You want to talk about it? Floor is all yours”. 

“You almost died” Jack blurted, “Someone doesn’t just move on from that, hell no amount of therapy is even working to get that image out of my head”. 

“I’m alive Jack!” you scoffed, “You’re treating me as if I’m fragile, I’m alive!” you were angry, out of line, and slowly becoming someone you would want to smack.

“I saw your blood pressure drop into a number I see patients code Y/n” he broke, “The amount of blood I saw I felt as if-“.

You turned around to see Jack become silent, hearing your baby’s coos become light whines. “Baby it’s okay, daddy’s just-“ you were at a loss of words, playing with her hand as your eyes remained fixated on your husband. 

“I can’t sleep because I stare at you breathing” he shuddered, “I hold onto you and check your pulse because I am scared of you” he confessed, “I have nightmares of you losing all of that blood, I can smell it, I can see your life just drain-“.

You rested your spare hand on Jack’s chest, feeling his heartbeat erratic, “Put your hand on my chest” you instructed, seeing him shake his head, “Jack, put your hand on my chest”.

He obeyed, feeling your heartbeat beneath your chest, your inhale and exhales being even and consistent.

“I’m alive” you whispered to him, “I'm not porcelain, you won’t break or lose me”.

“I just-“.

“I know” you nodded, “I am here Jack”.

MONTH SIX

“That’s it mama” you cooed as you sat on the living room carpet, supporting your baby as she sat upright, she babbled endlessly with a smile plastered on her face. 

You smiled at your little girl, look up at the television sparingly to check the time, it was 10 pm, almost time for her bedtime routine and your Jack check up from work.

“Let’s go take a bath baby” you muttered, picking up your little girl before tickling her stomach, “Bubbles mama!” you blew raspberries on her stomach, leading to an explosion of her cute little laughs. 

Bath time was always yours and hers thing. Jack would get her up in the morning and have some time before he crashed, feeding her and making sure she had the best attempt of solid foods. Sometimes he’d sleep with her on his belly despite the worry it brought you that she’d squirm and fall one day. 

Her little toes kicked the bubbles onto your blouse as you bathed her, her babbles louder and louder as you reached her hair and gently washed it with warm water. It was a cold night in Pittsburgh, even the windows frosted over.

She’d yawn upon you changing her and lathering the lotion and baby powder. She didn’t need stories to sleep but you rambled on about your day no matter what, played her favorite noises of the month- this month was jungle sounds. By 11 pm, she was fast asleep, slowly babbling herself to dreamland for five minutes before succumbing to her tiredness. She had Jack’s brunette-copper curls, his facial freckles. God, she was the perfect combination of you both.

You know for the amount of stress this baby put on my body, I was hoping for a carbon copy

You texted Jack, waiting for a response as you brewed a chamomile tea. You weren’t much of a tea person, after Jenna said it was recommended since you were hemorrhaging, you decided to lay off the coffee. 

Abbot genes are strong, how are my girls? Good, baby Abbot is asleep, mama Abbot is making tea. How’s my man? Fucking swamped at work, I miss you on night shift. Walsh is driving me insane. Be nice, she’s a lifesaver Wtv, I’ll see you at home. Love you. I love you too

There were nights where you missed the cuddles, the late night football reruns, the showers together. It was nearly impossible due to your schedules and your little girl, you wouldn’t change a thing though. 

MONTH SEVEN

“Woah babygirl” Jack spoke up as he caught your baby while she stood up holding onto the couch for dear life. Jack’s voice only induced her threat assessment leading the poor girl to cry thinking she did something wrong.

She bounced lightly before letting go, hitting her head on the coffee table in the process leading to Jack’s threat assessment to kick in. She didn’t cry, she did however, chomp on her father’s nose as he picked her up to examine her head. 

“What was that?” you asked as you walked out of the garage, scouring for your luggages.

You and Jack decided it’s time for your baby girl to see Boston, your mom had been begging to see you both. You caved after Jenna and Doctor Varma cleared her- only if the people around her didn’t kiss her and were vaccinated, she was already almost caught up with babies her age, just tinier. 

“She hit her head” Jack spoke with concern as you examined the same thump on her head, fresh set of eyes. 

“That’s okay” you reassured him, “Eyes are fine, she’s responding to stimuli- oh my god I’m talking like our daughter’s is my patient” you caught yourself.

“You don’t think?…” Jack hinted, your daughter looking at you with confusion.

“Abbot’s have hard heads” you joked, “Trust me I married one” you placed a kiss on his lips, wandering off to finish packing yours and the baby’s necessities. 

You decided flying would be the better option, the drive would just piss Jack off. Taking all the precautions, your baby girl was still a babbling angel who was overly scared of When Harry Met Sally. She sneezed a lot, loved to teeth on Jack’s nose and fingers, gave the best butterfly kisses, loved to grab your face with her saliva coated hands.

Upon landing in Boston, it was freezing, leading your little girl to hold her own hands in her stroller and shiver as you reached your mom, who luckily, had a spare blanket with her. 

“I fixed up both rooms for you and my little chums” your mom stated as Jack carried your luggage’s in, “Is it okay if your sister comes for dinner? Or still no visitors?”.

“She can, just don’t have the kids all up on her” you told your mom, letting your little girl out of her seat as she slept for her nap, holding her gently as she only woke up to be moved and went back to sleep. 

“Did they ever figure out why she has GERD?” your mom asked, serving you and Jack water.

“It’s normal, she wasn’t fully developed at birth, her GI tract is just different” you shrugged, playing with your baby’s curls as you walked around your childhood home. 

“Hopefully she grows out of it, so far she hasn’t been needing the breathing machine since she’s on a new dose of steroids” Jack spoke up, kissing the top of her head as he walked past, not forgetting to kiss your lips afterward.

“Any luck breastfeeding?” your mom lightly asked, getting the meat out from her fridge.

“She’s good with formula, I tried and it’s just a no-go” you answered. Feeling your little girl stir before blowing a raspberry in her sleep, “Told you, snores like her dad” you teased. 

MONTH EIGHT

“Look!” Jack shouted excitedly, tapping your shoulder several times. 

You looked away from the television to see your baby girl bouncing on her butt while looking at the Steelers game. Making loud babbles as she saw the footballers tackle each other. 

“Mama, they're winning!” you smiled, looking at your girl bounce even more with excitement, she loved her floor time for no apparent reason, hated being in her room. 

You and Jack heard the door knock which triggered your little girl to look back at you and him, Jack got up

to answer the door. Being greeted with his brother and his kids.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked as you picked up your baby girl. 

“Can’t check up on my brother?” his brother shrugged, you timidly approaching the door in confusion. 

You made sure to cover your baby up as much as you could, furrowing your brows. Jack told both his brothers and his mom about the baby, how you both wanted to wait for a year until you introduced non-vaccinated people, even then you still had your reservations. 

“Outside” Jack sternly said, looking back at you both. 

You bounced your baby as she lightly began to cry from the sight of her uncle and her dad leaving. She knew he was going outside but not that he was returning. From the glass in the door you saw your husband argue with his brother, visibly annoyed. 

“You know daddy has some crazy family” you gossiped with your daughter, only for her to chomp on your nose in response, thinking you were being playful.

Later in the night, you decided to talk about it with Jack. Figured he was still upset even hours after it passed, he remained silent at dinner, your bedroom was awkwardly stretched into an elongated and uncomfortable silence with only the vents of the heater to be heard. 

“So…” you lightly trailed off as Jack dressed himself for bed, your daughter slept in her own nursery- an angel who allowed you both to sleep in and would have to be woken up rather than waking you. 

“Look I told my mom, I didn’t want anyone around her who wasn’t cleared medically” he agitatedly responded, “For him to just show up? Knowing he could have hurt her-“ Jack’s own breath cut him off. 

You adjusted your position on your shared bed, furrowing your brows slightly, “You underestimate our baby girl” you lightly joked, “She’s a fighter”. 

“S’Gets it from her mom” he scrunched his nose, putting a sock on his foot before removing his prosthetic to lay down beside you. 

“Her mom didn’t fight in a war” you chuckled, “Though I do kick ass at my job”.

MONTH NINE

“7 year old boy, was caught playing with his father’s gun and ended up shooting himself in the chest” the EMT went over as the nurses arranged all the medication. 

You and Jack were working together on night shift as you had to hold a surgical seminar in the morning for prospective fellowships, therefore Heather and Robby were babysitting. 

“Was child protective services notified?” you asked as you fixed your safety glasses, intubating the young boy, slowly feeling a stabbing sensation prick your incision sight, sucking in a breath lightly.

“Social work is talking to the parents now, not too sure about afterwards” Cassie responded, she rarely worked nights but the times she did, she’d oddly get a lot of pediatric cases.

“I’m going to wheel him up- Cass update me on the parents” you nodded towards her as you steadfastly ran with your surgical team, already gowned due to your surgery of a teen ectopic pregnancy. 

As you were wheeling the kid up, you could only feel the slight tinge of a burn on your lower abdomen. The adrenaline high you were running on due to the emergency department being overwhelmingly clogged and boarded, was wearing thin with each passing step to the operating room. 

While you held the child under your scalpel, a tiny and timid voice floated in the air of the sterile room.

“Doctor L/n”.

“I’m in a child’s chest cavity, you mind holding off on questions?” you sternly quipped, dull ache cascading across your abdomen.

“Doctor L/n” the voice repeated, more worried. 

You looked up only to see horrified looks of your entire surgical team. Scrub nurses furrowing their brows, training surgeons, the anesthesiologist. You slightly winced, feeling another prick before you heard a voice on the intercom.

“I’m taking over Doctor L/n, Bridget said social services need to see you” Emery’s voice spoke up as she scrubbed in, the same puzzled and worried look painted on her face as well. 

You shrugged off your gown and discarded your gloves, walking back into the scrub room to wash your hands only to see dark stains through your navy scrubs, you lifted your scrub to reveal your cesarean scar to be open, violently red and bleeding with no warning. The cold air touched the wound, leading you to suck in a breath and attempt to wash with water only for the pain to get worse. The incision in itself was thin, the wound now almost looked as if it were a gash. 

Making your way upstairs as the burning sensation grew vapid and unnerving. Meeting up with Bridget who was already talking to social services.

“Oh this is Doctor L/n, she’s our head of trauma, she was operating on Henry just now” Bridget introduced you, making eyes to the one on the left who was seemingly flirtatious towards her. 

“Good evening, nice to meet you” you slightly grunted out in pain, absolving it with a feigned smile. 

“Good evening to you too. Henry’s mom wants to claim the gunshot was completely accidental but after a couple neighbors who had seen the dispute came forward it looked to be inflicted by his father” the social worker revealed, “We just wanted to know how the wound looked to you, the EMTs weren’t able to capture a photo for evidence”. 

“There was no exit wound, I’m too savvy with forensic analysis but it appeared to enter from the back rather than the front ruling out self infliction” you revealed, “My colleague Doctor Walsh is finishing up in the OR. We have several documenters who are in the operating room as we operate for both educational and lawsuit purposes- I can give you that as soon as it’s available”. 

As the social workers took their leave you turned to Bridget with your dilemma, “My scar opened” you breathed.

“What?” her eyes popped, looking towards your abdomen.

“I don’t know how- or why. I just- I need someone to stitch and clean- Jack can’t know about this” you quickly told her.

“Honey, why not?” she whispered, concerned.

“Because- look, we just started you know again and that took us forever to reach” you sighed, shaking your head lightly, “If he found out about this, we’d be back at square one”. 

Bridget nodded, looking over at Javadi who has finally done another night shift rotation, “Javadi, Doctor L/n needs your help in south 6” she smiled at the medical student, gaining a nod. 

You made your way to south 6 only to see a puzzled Victoria staring at the blank bed before here.

“I thought Bridget said-“.

“I’m the patient” you smiled with a sigh, lifting up your scrub top to reveal the bleeding wound, “Opened while I was wheeling Henry up- can you please help?” you pleaded.

Victoria didn’t hesitate to sterilize and stitch you up, gaining points for you to maybe offer a scrub in offer. It seemed only right. 

MONTH TEN

“Have you seen-“ Jack’s voice emerged as you bathed your daughter, he was dressed in the brown-olive suit you bought him for your anniversary about three years ago, “… My tie?”.

You tickled your daughter's stomach, her hand holding your pinky as you turned your head to look at your husband, “Where are you going?” you quirked a brow. 

“Some veterans thing- I told you two days ago”.

You quirked your head to the side lightly, biting your lip slightly to convey a piqued interest, severely regretting this past week where things you’ve been told have been flying out of your head. 

It started with Heather and Robby, both being serious under-communicators as people who traditionally and painstakingly, can’t have a moment of silence. 

“And I literally told him, wet towels don’t belong on the bed and it’s just- I don’t know! It’s a serious pet peeve of mine, he’s known that since the first time” Heather vented as you typed on the computer, it was barely 6:45 in the morning. Normally her and Robby would walk to work together, today, you could swear you heard the keys to her Acura jingle.

You furrowed your brows, almost mistakenly not marking a patient's height from your physical charts that you kept on you just in case. “Hm?” you asked, eyes fluttering to look at Heather once more.

“You know what, I’ll let it slide, you and Jack must not be getting sleep”. 

“Oh he is!” you scoffed, fixing your reading glasses from falling down the bridge of your nose, “I get the chomping, crying, diaper blowout baby, he gets the, too sleepy to be hyper, an angel by all accounts baby”. Your brows formed stress lines as you spoke, a pang in your chest radiated as you realized, you just complained about your husband who- by all accounts- has been so helpful, one may think it’s overbearing.

Heather nodded, “You know if you guys need anything, we’re down the street”.

“Robby’s wet towels may not be the best for my baby girl” you winked.

That brings you back to today, where your husband stands dressed in his suit, you in your sweats and old Boston University shirt. You could only scoff at the man upon instinct, feeling as if your emotions betrayed your mind that tried so hard to not argue. 

“Everything alright?”. 

“Yeah- just need to put her to sleep” you locked your lips, laying your daughter on your shared bed as you rubbed lotion on her squirming body, her gummy smile beautiful as ever.

Her tiny legs kicked and kicked, her little squeals and slightly sniffles from her legs being above chest level. Her squinted eyes from the smile she gave you, she loved her momma, loved the times spent with her that she didn’t understand that she was cherishing little by little as a stored memory. 

“I don’t have to go,” Jack’s voice spoke up from the corner of your room, just next to the en-suite door. 

“No. Just go, they’re expecting you there anyways” you sighed, a tad bitter, a tad tired. A whole lot of confusion and anger towards your own memory system.

Jack nodded, giving you both a kiss as he walked out, squeezing your upper arm just before taking his leave. You felt the cold metal of his wedding band send shivers and goosebumps on your skin. 

It was 8 pm when he had left, now at 4 am, waking your daughter up for her preemptive feeding to combat the 4:30 am alarm she has built into her. You enjoyed motherhood like any mother could, enjoyed your little girl, but; nights like these where the house is quiet, your husband is gone, all you can hear is the suckling of the baby bottle as you zone out into the abyss, wondering if Pittsburgh instead of D.C. was the right move. If you had taken the fellowship in California, pursued your internship in Maine, took a different path, what would change? Would you be fiddling with your wedding ring as your husband stays out of your home, as you feed the gentle and warm human in your arms who’s slightly grunting from swallowing the milk. 

When you hear the key enter the doorknob, it’s 6 am, the sun peeking through the sky as it gradually becomes a lighter blue. Your daughter fast asleep in the bassinet she’s grown out of but loves nonetheless, her coos paused for quick seconds as her nose sniffles. Eyebags marrying your under eyes, purple and green, somewhat yellow as if you’d been punched. Jack knew you couldn’t sleep without him, he silently judged himself for the unintentional torture he caused. 

The first words you had uttered in hours, your throat hoarse and dry from lack of hydration, “We’ll talk later” was all you could muster. Picking up your baby girl to take her to her own room before paddling off into your and Jack’s. Feet tired and fully holding you all together. 

Later didn’t come until you had gotten 5 hours of sleep, praising the schedule you were afforded for the past several months. Jack was in for the limited time he had as he had work later that night. So of course, at 4 pm, you had picked the fight as you laid your baby down for her nap- her naps were always long enough to do things around the house and not worry for her wails- she was a passive baby, like her father. 

As you and Jack sat opposite each other across your shared backyard patio, the sun beaming brightly. You licked your lips before daring to speak, cracked from dehydration. 

“I knew motherhood would be a troublesome thing to go through” you cleared your throat, staring off into the distance just shy from Jack, “I knew it, I still know it. I just- I thought—“ you carefully wanted to pick your words before realizing, it didn’t matter, Jack would see right through you, “When it comes to us parenting, we don’t see eye to eye. We don’t talk, we don’t kiss, hell you can’t even give me your good graces knowing I may not remember certain things- that there are a million and one things floating in my head and she’s always going to be number one”.

“Babe, I truly didn’t care if we didn’t go or not I just made a promise that I was not just going to back down on” he sighed, “We don’t see eye to eye. That’s what makes us work, we’re different and yet we have someone in common, someone warm and gentle. And that whole kissing thing, I kiss you every single night even when you slobber from your open mouth snores” he confessed.

“Jack that’s not the point” you ran your hands through your hair, “You’re leaving me alone in times I need you- you’re everything and nothing all at once these days and I just- I hate myself for saying it, I feel left alone in this”.

The words didn’t hurt, but they did sting enough to visibly change Jack, the statement registering and processing in his head as he realized what you’ve been feeling. 

“You can’t just be here when it’s good, and leave when it’s not” your voice cracked, your throat felt raw and scratchy, “I love you- with every part of me, I love you, but I can’t be treated like I’m last in every single part of your- our- life” you began to cry, the days of sleep deprivation and running on an adrenaline plus caffeine induced high caught up to you and you instantly gave up, holding yourself up onto one of the patio chairs. 

“I thought I’d be better at this” you vented, slightly hyperventilating, “I thought something would just click and it’d be all driven on instinct- now I just wonder if this is even how I wanted things to be”. 

Jack let you cry and vent for an hour, he knew he’d have to somehow consolidate those feelings into some form of improvement in his parenting and loving you. 

MONTH ELEVEN

“Good girl mama” Jack cheered as your daughter clung to his hands while they practiced walking, her balance had improved within the past few weeks- almost confident enough to not need support. 

They say the worst parents to have are doctors. Nevertheless having two parents as doctors especially in emergency medicine. So when your daughter began to have increasingly common asthma attacks, your mama-bear mode was kickstarted severely.

This time, it happened when you were on the clock.

“Okay leave it- Doctor Abbot hands off your baby girl” the peds ward nurses kept shouting as Jack kept trying to get your baby girl to breathe evenly. 

You didn’t know, having been in surgery when she was admitted. Though the looks everyone gave you and the comment from Bridget to avoid the peds ward, it only sent you into a downward spiral. Sure enough you saw her in the database, saw that Jack was somehow labeled as her emergency room doctor. Upon reaching her room you were only met with every mother’s nightmare of their baby not breathing and their husband beginning to break.

You stood there in shock as they gave your baby high flow oxygen and stimulated her chest for her breathing to even out, one raspy and wrathful cough escaped her mouth- you could feel her throat pain from that alone. 

“She came in because of an asthma attack- we’re going to do a combo of albuterol and ipratropium, Jack almost had to code her” Doctor Varma explained to you, looking at you both as you stared in shock and horror at each other. You gulped and nodded before fully entering the room, “She’s doing fine hon’, asthma attacks can be severe but they can be treated easily and quickly- she’s a strong girl like her parents” she added on before leaving you both.

It was quiet in the room and held onto Jack’s hand for dear life, your knuckles pale from the grip. You could feel his hurt. 

“We were just walking, she got her balance controlled and then-“ Jack’s breath hitched, “She just wouldn’t breathe and I tried and-“.

You hushed him lightly, kissing the top of his curls, you could smell the sweat from the stress. 

The worst parents to have are doctors, for multitudes of reasons. The overwhelming health diagnoses, the fact that they need to know and have your history, the easier access to medical care, the arsenal of equipment and prescriptions kept at home. But mainly because they know about everything that could go possibly wrong when their child’s life is at stake. 

MONTH TWELVE

Your daughter wouldn’t grow, courtesy of the steroids stunting her growth. No matter how tiny, the precious little girl was a runner. 

Whether after bath time and almost slipping just before Jack caught her, the nonstop drumming in her high chair, she was a mover and a lover of sound by all accounts. 

Except birthdays, when all there was was loud noises and constant moving. So when she tugged on your skirt that you noticed something was different and overwhelming her from her flushed face and disheveled dark, copper, hair that she got from her dad. 

Jack’s family, no matter what you guys were doing, were cordial. The way they handled COVID and the election put a damp stain on their relationship with Jack to the point he even questioned if he wanted them in your daughter's life. You allowed for sparing interactions where Jack would’ve said no to any and all. Though you gave restrictions, you won’t tell them to get vaccinated, they won’t tell you that they believe in “facts”.

You knew it meant a lot to Jack’s mom, the only son who fully moved and made a living for himself. The eldest son was the last one to have kids, who would’ve thought. 

You excused yourself from your sister and Heather as you walked with your daughter inside the house where she led you to her room, settling down in her rocking chair, her eyes faltering and blinking sparingly, poor baby was tired. 

Smiling, you scooped your little girl into you and sat down on the rocking chair, her head to your chest, rocking slowly to lull her asleep.

Jack opened the door after a few minutes went by, remaining quiet as he approached you both, kissing your forehead as he massaged your scalp. 

“Your mom’s handling the presents” Jack murmured, caressing the handle that supported your baby girl, her pigtails now even and cleaned up as you fixed them while she slept. 

“We survived one year” you sighed, bumping Jack’s fist he had formed, “Thought I’d never see the day”.

“That you have a baby?”.

“That I have a baby with Doctor Abbot, who by all accounts made me overwhelmingly nervous on my first day of work” you joked, looking up at your husband.

“Wow, I have a baby with Rambo,” he joked back.

All you could do is smile, to be fair, Rambo was the first nickname Jack referred you to. And one of the first words your baby said, hell, if you didn’t have your own predispositions on Sylvester Stallone, you’d thank him. 

dividers by @cafekitsune

[anime-in-new-albion]

Marrying for Love ~ Malleus Draconia

Summary: As Crown Prince of Briar Valley, Malleus is expected to become King one day. However, he still needs to find a partner to rule by his side. And that's where you come in...

Pairing: Malleus Draconia X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 731

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

You have met a lot of princes in your life, but none were quite like Prince Malleus Draconia of Briar Valley.

He was a rare kind of mage and beauty and an even rarer kind of gentleman. He cared deeply for his people, his friends, and his family. He didn't really have enemies wherever he went. His magic was incredibly powerful and he wielded it well. He was soft-spoken, intelligent, humorous, and compassionate. Malleus was born to be a Prince and strived to prove he was worthy of being King of Briar Valley every single day.

There was just one obstacle in his way: marriage.

According to the customs of this ancient kingdom, he couldn’t ascend the throne until he was married. It was the chink in his relatively perfect armor. Even though he was considered the perfect man throughout the realms, Malleus was hopeless when it came to finding a suitable partner, at least in Lilia's eyes. Sebek was still under the impression it was the other party who had the problem, not Lord Malleus. 

Sure, Malleus could talk to people, but he couldn’t flirt and couldn’t understand flirting to save his life. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t seem to understand the subtleties of romance, much to Lilia's displeasure. He thought he taught him better.

Really, it was no surprise his parents, with the help of Lilia, arranged a match for him.

And that’s where you come in.

Oh sure, you know how to flirt and be coy and romantic with others. But after spending one evening with Malleus, you knew it wasn’t going to work with him. And you’re nothing if not adaptable.

From the first moment you met him, you knew he craved an honest relationship, where you didn't play games and you were very clear with your intentions from the start. You took it upon yourself to just get to know him, all of him, and not just the parts he wanted you to see. It was a start. And he found it was something easy he could do. While you learned more about him and what made him who he is, he learned about you. And what surprised him the most was the fact that he genuinely liked you. And that you genuinely liked him too.

Time was ticking down and you found that this idea of an arranged marriage didn’t seem so terrible. However, you were still worried. Slowly, Malleus was learning how to flirt and be romantic. You were afraid he wouldn’t need you anymore, he wouldn’t care about you anymore as much as he did when you first met. You liked that he needed you. He made you feel wanted and loved. But what if he found someone better?

You kept your worries to yourself. Being the Crown Prince of Briar Valley, Malleus had enough to worry about. You didn’t want to complicate your relationship with him in any way. Nevertheless, in the privacy of your room, you wished that Malleus would be yours just like you were his.

So you can imagine your surprise when he invited you on a stroll through the royal gardens one day. Sure, the two of you often went walking in these gardens, but it usually wasn’t until after all of his royal duties were complete. It was the middle of the day when he sent for you, not late evening after dinner like normal. Though you were confused and more than a little anxious, you did not want to keep him waiting. Quickly, you found him near the entrance to the gardens and the two of you began to walk together, arm in arm.

Malleus eventually stopped in a small pavilion surrounded by your favorite flowers. He sat you down on one of the benches and began a long-winded speech, which wasn't a common occurrence for him. He went on and on about how even though your relationship started as an arranged marriage, he felt something more for you. He thought of you as less of a companion and more of a lover he wanted to treasure forever. He explained that to him, you were the perfect partner to spend the rest of his life with. However, he didn’t feel like he was actually engaged yet.

So he asked you a question:

“Will you marry me?”

And of course, you said, “Yes.”

[sleepntalk]

honestly yes nerd!megumi got made fun of every time you would walk pass him, even if you did have sympathy for him; your friends wouldn’t want you near him. why tho? what’s up with everyone having that hatred for nerds, you found it odd; is it because they are smarter then half the school? didn’t matter, nerd!megumi, still held a special place in your heart.

you were in a hurry, running down the halls trying to get to class, since it had already started without you; while you were running you ended up running into nerd!megumi, your heart skipped a beat, not knowing how to act. but you couldn’t let him have this hold on you, not when your “popular” and he’s just some “nerd.” so typical.

“woah, are you alright?” he reached his hand out, waiting for you to grab onto it

you didn’t grab his hand, instead you just got up off the floor yourself; brushing the dirt and dust off.

it’s not like you didn’t want his help, because of course you did, but your friends wouldn’t like it; which made no sense, who are they to tell you who you should date or not?

“yeah.. im fine, thanks.” you shot a smile towards him, making his face turn a bit pink

“cool..”

“gotta go now!” you started running again, rushing to class once more

“is she seriously running again?” he muttered,

nerd!megumi then decided to follow you to your class, just to see which one you had; not a stalker or anything! but.. he sure did feel like one at that moment.

he peaked his head throughout the door a bit, looking around to see where you were seated;

he saw you, smiled. but obviously your friends pulled your head to them, not wanting you to see “him.”

that was his queue to go, which he did

going to his class instead.

the time passed, minutes felt like hours; something you hated

the bell rang, it was now lunch break.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you sat at a table alone, since you’re friends we’re starting to get on your nerves.

well.. you were alone until nerd!megumi stood right behind you, giving you a quick little scare

and yes; it did scare the living hell outta you.

“what are you doing megumi?” you questioned, still a bit spooked

“just wanted to see why you’re alone.” he smiled, sitting beside you

you smiled back, pink blush starting to spread across your face.

you could tell your friends we’re watching my from afar, you even could hear them say “seriously? out of all the guys.”

“she could’ve went for the jock guys!” they all just laughed, and laughed; pointing fingers and everything, over megumi being a nerd? how was that such a big deal you didn’t care for “looks.” neither popularity. it was all stupid to you, not even understanding why you’re friends liked things like that, they always had a new boyfriend every week.

megumi grabbed your chin, placing his finger on it “don’t listen to them; that’s what they want from you, attention.”

megumi was right, why would you care what they think, they wouldn’t even let you be happy with a guy you actually liked, not even to just hook up for the night.

“i-im not.” you played with the hair ties on your wrist, since you did that when you were stressed; mostly and emotion you were feeling

“hm.”

“huh?”

“nothing..”

“i got some studying to do.”

“wait!” you grabbed his arm while he was getting up from beside you

“im throwing a party tonight, it’s just for fun. since my parents aren’t home.” you smiled, why were you so scared to say that to him?

“so, are you asking me to come?”

“yes!”

megumis eyes widened, not expecting that one bit.

“..sure”

you smiled, getting all excited like a little girl in a candy store.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the party.

everyone wasted no time, drinking. smoking.

just regular teens, megumi found it.. not pleasing, he only came to your party for.. well, obviously you!

the party went on and on, everyone was having a good time, the kiss between you and megumi, did happen; but it’s not like you remembered it. waking up the next day going to school like it was nothing,

“hey, last night was fun!” megumi leaned against your locker, back against it; with a smug look on his face, shooting you a quick wink.

“mmm.. why?”

“we—kissed..?”

“WAIT WHAT!?”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“and that’s how we met.” your husband looked down at the kids sitting in front of him, listening to the love story of how you two met.

“what!! you didn’t finish it!” one whined,

your husband raised his eyebrow, “i did.”

“no! you ended it with mom saying ‘wait what!?”

megumi smirked; “because.. that’s how it ends.”

you were cooking up a meal in the kitchen, completely oblivious to your husband telling your kids the “love” story.

“but..”

“no but’s kiddo.” he had said,

then you all sat down at the table, eating dinner as a family. :)

(ugh.. im so sorry for not posting, i’ve been focusing on myself, but here’s this; a little something i had been working on, which i didn’t read through it 😢)

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Just Wrap Me Up in Chains (Part 1)

Pairing: Daniel Pine x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Typical John Wick Universe Violence; Allusions to illness; SPOILERS FOR BALLERINA

Summary: Uncle Winston relocated you from The Continental New York for your own safety. At your new location, you cross paths with a little girl. Her presence is a mystery. Almost as big of a mystery as Daniel Pine in room 315. Strangers to friends to lovers.

A/N below the cut! Cause—SPOILERS.

Thank you for your brain @shadowcitrine 🩵

A/N: Fell in love with these two characters: Daniel and Ella Pine. Had to write them. So—notes! No real Daniel in this chapter but we’ll get to him in the next one. I took some liberties with Ella’s age. I found that the original script had her as 6 years old. That may have changed but that’s what I ran with. There aren’t a ton of spoilers in this chapter but there are spoilers. I’m doing my best with John Wick universe lore. I’m definitely no expert but this is fun. I’ll update this if I can remember other things I need to say.

“That going to 315?” You asked, circling the cart. The banana split that was nearly spilling over the silver plated boat was impressive. An extra bowl of cherries sat next to it. There was no whipped cream. That was a pity. It was the best part, in your opinion. “Guy sure does like ice cream.”

“He orders food too.” Tobias shrugged. “Lots of it. He just—orders ice cream more.”

You nodded, stepping out of the way as the cart squeaked into motion, one wheel wobbling in a way most people wouldn’t notice. You noticed. Of course you did. You were trained to see things that others didn’t, down to the finest detail where the hotel was concerned. You were raised to be aware. Your Uncle Winston saw to it.

He wasn’t really your uncle. He was your godfather. When your parents were taken from you at such an early age, you were brought up within the walls of The Continental New York. Over the years, you had watched the best of the best partake in the unique services offered. The weapons, medical, and ‘dinner reservations’. You had also seen it house the worst of the worst.

Winston had protected you without directly shielding you. You were an integral part of the hotel’s functionality. Your jobs were important, but mundane, giving you the appearance of just another staff member. He couldn’t let you be seen as anyone important to him. He had too many enemies to show that sort of attachment. It would have certainly spelled disaster for you.

It was for that reason that you had been sent away when bad blood had bloomed between Winston and John Wick. The Baba Yaga. Not that John—Jonathan, as Winston had called him—couldn’t find you with ease if he saw fit. Winston had to make you seem expendable. Inconsequential. Nothing more to him than an employee transfer.

Prague wasn’t bad. It wasn’t great. The Continental ran under the same rules. The same expectations. Only the manager knew of your true ties to the New York hotel and had pledged you’d be looked after.

Just as it had been back home, you worked as the head of housekeeping. Most of your work was managerial, so a short flowy black dress and lightweight cropped blazer were sufficient in lieu of a standard hotel uniform. It was your duty to oversee that the elegant rooms remained on the level of reputably unimpaired—not one speck of dust, nor a single bead of blood. Crisp sheets, fully stocked minibars, and the plushest towels were your weapons in the Underworld.

Most of the patrons welcomed your staff, eager to be pampered and catered to during their stay. But not 315. Not Daniel Pine, as the occupancy list had indicated his name to be. He allowed no one in his suite. And he never left. Not once in just over a week. Sheets, towels, food, toiletries, and other amenities authorized by The Manager were left outside the room. Furthermore, the door never opened while anyone remained in the hallway.

Never.

It certainly wasn’t the oddest behavior you’d witnessed given the surroundings of your profession. So, it was with a shrug that you carried on about your own business and left Mr. Pine to his.

That was, until the Dvorak brothers incident. Three rooms left in shambles. Two employees killed and several others injured, leaving the hotel shorthanded until The Manager could pull off a miracle.

“There is no one else.” Dominik pushed the cart towards you, a wheel trundling up onto the toe of your impractical stiletto.

“Ow! Why can’t you do it?” You asked, fingers wrapping around the curved handle. You already knew the answer. Dominik was security. It had been a miracle for the kitchen staff to convince him to lay hands on that cart at all. Sensing the futility of questioning, you waved a hand and begrudgingly wheeled the thing towards the service elevator.

The ascension to the third floor was silent, the audio system still inoperative since yesterday’s incident. Somehow, it seemed to compound the strange feeling that was stirring in your gut. Anxiety, maybe? You felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, wondering if you’d catch a glimpse of Krampus.

The doors parted and you found the first corridor empty. Unsurprising for that time of evening. The patrons were likely out seeking their next bounty or hiding behind closed doors to ensure their own bounty wasn’t collected.

There was a reason no business was permitted to be conducted on Continental grounds. After all, the hotel was open to the public. Certain floors, like the one you currently navigated, were used by members of the Underworld. As were a number of the lounges. Even if only one side was aware, the two worlds coexisted without much of a problem. Most of the time.

Regardless, that hardly mattered when you were delivering a room service ice cream medley to a dangerous assassin with an apparently massive sweet tooth.

You positioned the cart just so outside the door, ensuring it could be pulled through the entryway without an issue. Knocking firmly, you called out “room service” before pivoting on a heel to return towards the elevator. As you walked, you pulled your access badge from the inner pocket of your blazer. With your usual grace, you fumbled the card, cursing in a whisper when it tumbled onto the floor with a soft sound just before you rounded the corner. Rolling your eyes at your own carelessness, you turned and crouched as ladylike as you could to retrieve your keycard when you heard the click of the lock disengage just down the hall.

You blinked. Once. Twice. An arm was extending from the door, a large hand wrapping around the handle of the cart. The ring he wore was dark against his tan skin and clinked lightly against the metal. But that wasn’t what held your attention. It was the small girl standing just inside the door. Her eyes mirrored your own, wide and curious. Stunned. Neither of you looked away, even as the door closed.

Who was she? Why was she there? There was no record of a kid being on that floor and it wasn’t ‘bring your child to work day’ in the Underworld. Your first thought was to fear for her safety. She was in a room with a dangerous man, after all. However, she hadn’t appeared to be afraid. Just—surprised to see someone near the door.

There was a sound from down the hall. It wasn’t the lock, but something was happening inside the suite. Muted clicks and thumps before it all went quiet. You stayed put, still crouched with eyes narrowed and ears straining while building a myriad of scenarios by sound alone.

You finally heard the little girl giggling from the room followed by a scrape of a spoon on the porcelain bowl that had been provided. A man’s voice, distinct in its dark, rich timbre. Another giggle and then the faint but familiar tune of Under the Sea from The Little Mermaid. If the little girl was there against her will, she was being spoiled rotten.

Fetching your badge and rising to walk away, you told yourself to stay out of it. It was none of your business. Uncle Winston would have granted you a two hour lecture if he had even an inkling of knowledge that you were merely curious about the affairs of anyone wrapped up in the life of the Underworld.

But Uncle Winston wasn’t here.

So you had no problem volunteering to deliver the meals and ice cream the next day—after a trip into town for something that could hopefully go unnoticed by Mr. Pine but draw the eye of the little girl. If she was in trouble, it would be a message to inform her that she had been seen. If she wasn’t, then it was just a gift.

Beneath the serving dish of ice cream, barely noticeable, you left a sticker. A rolling pin with eyes and a smile that said you’re a-dough-rable. You weren’t sure if she could even read but the image was cute enough. After delivering the dessert, you waited downstairs, busying yourself with your duties. If Mr. Pine had noticed, he’d surely make a call to the desk. Or maybe he wouldn’t. There was no way to know for sure.

But when you collected the cart and dishes, the sticker was gone.

At dinnertime, there had been no contact. So you left another sticker: a teapot with a smile that said you’re a cu-tea. When the cart and dishes were returned this time, the sticker had been removed and the adhesive paper had been left behind. Smiling to yourself, you made a decision.

In trouble or not, this little girl was going to know she had a friend in The Continental.

You continued to hide stickers on the cart with each food delivery. One day, a smiley face born of red crayon had been left for you on a napkin. It was a small gesture but it was enough to ensure you knew your efforts were appreciated.

Things continued this way until today. You were walking by the concierge desk when you heard Josef speaking into the phone.

“Mr. Pine? Mr. Pine, are you there?” He appeared to wait, his expression unreadable.

You froze, keeping your eyes averted while straining to listen. The concierge hung up, only for the phone to ring again with the same outcome. Something was fishy. “What’s going on?” You queried, leaning on the opposite side of the desk. You strived to appear mostly uninvested, likely an endeavor you were desperately failing.

Josef sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Room 315 has called about seven times. There’s no response when I answer. I’m gonna have to send up a tech to check the phone lines.” When he picked up the receiver, you watched his fingers begin to dial an extension. Something was definitely off.

“Did he order food and ice cream today yet?” You asked, rounding the desk. Josef didn’t answer for a moment before roughly hanging up the phone.

“No one’s answering in maintenance.” Now he was pinching the bridge of his nose, frustration etched into every line of his face. “No. No orders today.”

Shit.

The phone rang and you snatched it up before Josef could even flinch. “Concierge desk.” You were met with silence. Licking your lips, you glanced at Josef before angling yourself away. “Mr. Pine, would you like your normal ice cream order?” No answer aside from quiet breaths on the other end of the line, too soft to be that of a grown man. Lowering your voice, dropping to a whisper, you added “I can send two stickers this time.”

“I need medicine to make daddy better.”

Your eyes shot wide. It was her. And Mr. Pine—was her father. You took a deep breath, risking a glance at Josef. He was watching you with a furrowed brow and curious stare. “I apologize for the inconvenience with the phone lines, Mr. Pine. Let me call you from my personal line and I’ll handle this issue myself.” You didn’t wait for a response before replacing the receiver on the base. “I think I know what the issue is. I’ll take care of it.”

“You sure? When did you get so tech savvy?” He chuckled, his tone teasing.

“Shut up. I dealt with these kinds of issues all the time in New York. I got it.” You shook your head and pulled out your cellphone. Running a finger down the occupancy list, you found the direct line to room 315 and swiftly dialed it. Playing it cool, you gave Josef a thumbs up and walked away, pressing your back to the wall around the corner. The call connected but there was no answer. “It’s me.” You said, your tone calm and hopefully soothing. Still nothing. “My name is Y/N. What’s yours?”

A beat passed. “Ella.”

“Hi, Ella. Thank you for the smiley face drawing.” When she didn’t respond, you continued. “Ella, can you tell me what you need?”

“Daddy’s sick.” Her voice was small, but remarkably even.

“Okay, what’s wrong with him?” You began walking toward the service elevator, pulling your badge from your inner pocket.

“He’s hot.” You could hear her moving around. “And he’s not waking up.” The rustling of the sheets. Then a barking cough.

Definitely not good.

“Okay, I’m coming up and we’ll figure something out together. Are you okay with that?”

Once again, there was an extended silence. “You can’t use the door.”

The elevator opened and you stepped inside, your finger hovering over the button. “Why can’t I?”

“It’s dangerous.”

Finally pressing the button, the elevator lurched as it began to ascend. “How can a door be dangerous?” It wasn’t the strangest thing you’d ever heard out of a kid’s mouth, but it was up there.

“It just is.” You could have laughed at the indignation in her tone. “And you can’t tell anyone daddy’s sick.”

This was just becoming more and more of a mystery. “Why’s that? We have a doctor here.” The silence stretched to the point where you thought she might have hung up. Lowering your phone from your ear, you glanced at the screen. Still connected.

“He says we can’t trust anyone.”

Narrowing your eyes, you stepped out of the elevator after the bell chimed. “Then why are you trusting me?”

“You gave me stickers.”

You did chuckle this time. “That’s not exactly sound logic, kid.” You reasoned as you traveled the halls toward room 315.

“I’m 6.”

Stopping outside the door, you balanced the phone against your shoulder and grasped the door handle with one hand while your other held the badge. You were seconds away from passing the card over the reader before you let go and stepped back. “Okay, then how am I supposed to get in if I can’t use the door?”

“I’ll open the window.” Ella stated matter-of-factly.

Your jaw fell open. “To the balcony?!” Her problem solving skills definitely needed work if this was her solution. That or she needed to cut back on the cartoons.

“Mhm.” You could hear movement coming from inside the room. Another cough, a low groan. “Can you hurry?”

She wanted you to scale the ledge from the next room. What the actual fuck? Was this some sort of trick? Were you getting too close? So close that Mr. Pine was planning something and willing to use a little girl to do it? “I—”

“Please?” That word in her little voice shifted something inside you. Something you didn’t really like but couldn’t ignore. You thought back to those big eyes meeting yours from the doorway; the red smiley face napkin. If this was some ploy, this girl was a damn mastermind.

“I’m not Wonder Woman, kid.” You ran a hand over your hair, trying to reconcile what she was asking with the urgency of the situation.

“You have to be careful.” It was as if she hadn’t heard your last words at all. Like she knew you had already made up your mind to help.

“Well, yeah. It’s a balcony. On the third floor.”

“No. Not that.” Ella whispered as if someone might overhear. “Sometimes there are bad people outside.”

“You mean—” Of course she meant snipers. You wouldn’t be surprised if some had just taken up permanent residence on the roofs of nearby buildings. Probably even split the electric bill with the owners.

“Please hurry.” Her voice had begun to wobble. It was when you heard the quiet it’s okay, daddy that your resolve absolutely crumbled.

Jesus fuck, what were you getting yourself into? “Okay.” You sighed. “Okay, but I’m in heels. This might take a minute.”

[robron-til-the-end-of-time]

I have a fic prompts:

Where Aaron and Robert can’t be in the same room without kissing / making out or more but they are interrupted (by various characters- John, Vinny, Vic etc!) and then the one time they do get caught (by Chas/ similar to when Paddy caught them together)- maybe 5 times & one time thing 👀

So this is probably (definitely) more fun and flirty and less angsty and traumatic than what we’re bound to get on screen, but it’s a fun prompt so I hope this satisfies! I tried to keep it as short as possible, but I definitely could have got carried away! ___

Cain.

Aaron had been walking past the cemetery when he saw Robert. He wasn’t at his parents gravestones though, Aaron knew where they were, then he realised. He was at Liv’s. Aaron debated it for a second, then walked into the graveyard, towards Robert.

“I saw you coming,” Robert said, still looking at the headstone. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“Do you know,” Aaron said. “I can’t believe she’s gone either, and I was there.”

“I miss her,” Robert said. “Her smart mouth and scowling and… the way that sometimes she behaved just like you.”

“Don’t,” Aaron said. Robert shook his head, looking away and Aaron wasn’t entirely sure how it happened. One second his hand was on Robert’s back, the next he’d kissed him. A soft, gentle, brief kiss, just a press of lips really. But it ignited the flood gates and Robert looked stunned when he pulled back.

“Wait,” Robert said. The next kiss wasn’t brief. It was full of anger, sadness, desperation, Robert’s hand on the back of Aaron’s neck, pulling him close. The feel of him so close was intoxicating and it was only broken by the squeak of the gate. They broke apart, Aaron looking guilty, Robert shocked. They both turned and saw Cain with a bunch of flowers. It was clear that Cain hadn’t seen their embrace, but he came towards the two of them anyway.

“Nate,” Cain said in explanation.

“Liv,” Robert said. They nodded in agreement, but that had been close. After that first time, they tried to be careful. Honestly. In the end, they just couldn’t resist the magnetic pull of each other.

Jimmy.

“Just like old times,” Robert teased, closing the door to the portacabin.

“I’m working,” Aaron said, but his eyes were sparkling and Robert knew this was foreplay.

“Are you sure?” Robert said, leaning over the desk, definitely eye fucking.

“You’re a nightmare,” Aaron said.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” Robert said.

“Sometimes I would,” Aaron said. Robert leaned closer, and Aaron reached up, kissing him.

“But not today?” Robert whispered against his lips.

“No,” Aaron said, kissing him again. “Not today.” Aaron broke off the kiss so he could move around the desk and get his hands on Robert properly. Robert smirked as Aaron’s fingers reached under his shirt, stroking up his body and he arched into the touch. 

“I’ve missed this,” Robert whispered against his mouth. “You’ve no idea.”

“Yes I do,” Aaron said. He wanted Robert naked, but was also aware they were in the scrapyard. Anyone could walk in.

“God, it’s cold!” Jimmy said, coming in and making them break apart. Luckily, Jimmy’s obliviousness worked to their advantage. “You two lads fighting or making up?” Jimmy asked. “I can’t keep up.”

“Probably making up,” Robert said. “Out of those two options? What about the Smithsons contract?”

Vic.

“Vic said you were back here,” Robert said, coming into the back room.

“Looking after Eve,” Aaron said, watching the kid on the floor, playing with her toys.

“God, doesn’t time go,” Robert said, sitting on the sofa next to Aaron.

“If you’re looking for a quickie…”

“Yeah, in front of a five year old, that’s exactly what I’m after,” Robert said. “I mean, I am, but..”

Aaron chuckled. “You’ve only got one thing on your mind.”

“Nope,” Robert said. “I have many things going through my head at the same time. How do I get Aaron alone, how does he feel under my hands, how do I push John into the quarry without winding up my probation officer?”

Aaron didn’t want to laugh at the joke, but he did. Because of the company, Robert didn’t kiss him, but he did entwine his fingers with Aaron’s. Aaron squeezed his hand back, gentle touches soft. Almost flirting.

“Robert?” They both jumped apart, much more guiltily than simple hand holding should create as Vic came in. “Am I interrupting?”

“Oh yeah,” Robert said sarcastically. “I’m about to jump Aaron while his little sister’s here aren’t I?” He quickly made his escape, leaving Vic staring at Aaron.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t invite him here," Aaron said.

“Don’t you dare make Robert think he has hope,” Vic said. “I’m serious. It’ll ruin everything, and he’s trying so hard to move on.”

“I don’t need the lecture Vic.”

Ruby.

As attuned to Aaron’s presence as he was, Robert watched as Aaron’s car drove down the drive to the Mill. Robert followed, Aaron shutting the car door as he looked up, smiling at Robert. “Why is it that every time I turn around, there you are?”

“Guess it’s just your lucky day,” Robert said. Aaron smiled at him, more with his eyes than anything else. Robert pushed his luck and kissed him, Aaron responding eagerly. Robert grinned, pushing him up against the wall and deepening the embrace. Aaron’s hands slid down his body squeezing his arse tightly and Robert moaned, pushing forward.

“Why do we always do this?” Robert moaned into his neck.

“It feels good,” Robert said. “That’s why.” Aaron couldn’t argue that. He pushed Robert away when he heard the car coming down the drive. Robert let him, not wanting to be caught.

“Interrupting am I?” Ruby said, looking between the two men. From her face she hadn't seen anything though. “Who’s this?”

“I’m Robert,” he said. “Aaron’s ex.”

“Ah, you’re the desperate romantic who wanted Aaron to leave his husband and run off with you on his wedding day?” Ruby said. Robert huffed.

“On that note…” he said, walking away.

Ruby turned and pointed at Robert’s retreating back. “That’s your ex husband?”

“What?” Aaron said blankly.

“Have you seen him?” Ruby said. “He’s gorgeous! You went to bed with that every night?! God, he’s gay?! That’s such a disappointment!”

“Firstly, yeah,” Aaron said. “That is my ex husband. Second, no, he’s not gay, he’s bi, so if you want a shot... that reminds me of point three. You’re with Caleb.”

“Oh,” Ruby said, reminded about Caleb and disappointed. “Oh yeah. But how, how did you dump that?! He’s stunning!”

“Ruby, you can’t sleep with him,” Aaron said.

“I might like a toyboy,” Ruby said with a shrug. Then she looked at Aaron pointedly. “He clearly did.” Ruby looked at Aaron steadily. “Speaking of, why do you care who he sleeps with?”

“I don’t.”

“But you do, Aaron,” Ruby said. “It’s obvious to anyone who looks.”

John.

Finally, they’d managed to get some time alone, properly alone. Locked doors, a bedroom all to themselves in the Mill. Perfect. Robert lay on top of Aaron, skin sparking everywhere. Neither of them had a stitch of clothing on, and Aaron had actually smiled a time or two during the last few hours.

“About time I got you alone,” Robert said, laying on Aaron’s chest. He was listening to the rhythmic beating of Aaron’s heart, reassuring, steady. That’s what Aaron was to him, the steadying presence in his life.

“Why can’t I stay away from you?” Aaron asked himself. “I’m married.”

“Don’t remind me,” Robert said darkly. “Just forget about him for a moment. I want round two.”

“It wouldn’t be round two, it’d be round three,” Aaron reminded him. Robert smirked.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” Robert said. “More like… God Robert, just like that.”

“Shut up,” Aaron said with amusement.

“Is that right?” Both men turned towards the door to see John standing there, larger than life, anger radiating out from him. “I wondered why you weren’t picking up your phone. Now I know.”

“John!” Aaron said as he walked out, both Robert and Aaron scrambling for clothes. Robert felt a tinge of bitterness, but said nothing. He’d known what this was from the moment they first kissed.

“How long?!” John shouted. “How long have I been so blind, that you’re sleeping with him?!”

“It’s not like that.”

“Think it was exactly like that,” Robert chipped in. He didn’t see the punch coming, but his eye felt it and Robert staggered backwards.

“For God’s sake, that’s not helping!” Aaron shouted, trying to keep the brothers apart. They both wanted to kill each other.

“You’re married Aaron!” John shouted.

“Didn’t he tell you he kissed me on his wedding day?!” Robert shouted back. “Ask Chas, she saw it! You’ve lost Johnny boy, from the second I turned up!” Robert ducked another punch.

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Where the Flowers Don't Grow - Chapter 8

Word Count: 6k oops

Warnings: basically everything you should be warned about with TLOU, honestly

Notes: Uhhh this one hurt to write

Fic Masterlist

When they saw Tommy waiting for them at the hall, they expected to find Joel with him. He wasn’t there, though.

Tommy tried to mask his evident tension behind a kind smile as he greeted them, and even though Faith had only known him for half a day, she could tell something had happened.

“Where’s Joel?” she asked him, as they lead her and Ellie inside.

“He’s, uh… Grabbing some fresh air. He was tired,” Faith could see through his words, though. She wasn’t very experienced with handling people, but years of being cautious and distrustful to the world and its people had given her the ability to catch on lies pretty fast. “Come on, movie’s ‘bout to start.”

Where earlier there had been tables eat, now there were rows after rows of wooden benches and chairs facing a big white tarp. At the back of the room there was an old projector being handled with care by some men who were setting up the movie as people began to sit down, mostly children and teenagers, with their parents and other adults staying at the back of the hall to watch the movie from there, standing.

“There’s two seats,” Maria pointed at some empty chairs in the middle of a row, giving the girls a nod. “Go ahead, have fun.”

Faith offered Maria a tight, brief smile before leading the way down the row, weaving past knees and shuffling feet until they reached the two empty chairs. She sat down first, and Ellie quickly followed, plopping into the seat beside her with a soft grunt and a glance around the crowded hall.

The buzz of quiet chatter filled the room. Kids were laughing, adults murmuring softly. The hum of the projector starting up gave the air a nostalgic crackle.

Ellie shifted in her seat, eyes flicking left and right. Her shoulders were drawn in tight, like she was trying to disappear. After a moment, without looking, she reached out and gripped Faith’s hand.

Faith didn’t flinch or look surprised—just wrapped her fingers gently around Ellie’s and gave them a reassuring squeeze. Her hand was rough and scarred, but steady.

“I don’t like this,” Ellie muttered, barely above a whisper. “Too many people.”

“Yeah,” Faith said quietly, scanning the crowd with the same unease. “Same.”

Ellie leaned closer. “You think Joel’s okay?”

Faith hesitated, then nodded, more for Ellie’s sake than her own. “He’s probably just… overwhelmed. Lot to take in. Hasn’t seen his brother in a long while.”

Ellie made a small, doubtful sound in her throat. “You don’t think he’d just... leave us here, right?”

Faith turned to look at her. “No. He’s not.”

But even as she said it, her gut twisted. Tommy had lied—poorly. Faith didn’t know Joel well, or maybe she did, just not how Tommy knew him, but she knew the way people looked when they were trying to hold something in. Tommy looked like he was one wrong word away from crumbling.

The lights dimmed, and the murmur of voices softened into anticipation. Ellie sat a little straighter but didn’t let go of Faith’s hand. Faith didn’t mind.

As the projector flickered to life and the first grainy frames hit the white tarp, the hall fell silent.

There was no popcorn, and it smelled more like wood than plastic, but Faith realized this was the closest experience to being in a movie theatre she’d ever had in her life.

A woman’s voice rang out—sharp, funny, wounded in a way that felt unfamiliar—and Faith blinked, realizing she was getting pulled into the story. The Goodbye Girl. She’d never heard of it before, but then again, she didn’t know any movies at all.

The woman on screen was guarded and prickly, the guy kind of a jerk. Still, Faith’s back never touched the chair. She couldn’t let herself melt into it. Her body, trained by years of being alone, didn’t know how to stop scanning for exits or listening for sounds out of place. It wouldn’t let her forget, even now, that safety was a fragile illusion.

She only snapped fully back to the room when Ellie tugged at their joined hands and twisted slightly in her seat, eyes darting behind them instead of at the screen.

Faith leaned in. “What?”

Ellie’s voice was low, but tight with urgency. “Maria and Tommy. They’re talking. I think… I think he’s leaving.”

Faith turned just enough to glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, Tommy and Maria stood near the entrance of the hall, partially in shadow, talking in hushed tones that didn’t look casual.

Ellie moved abruptly.

“Ellie—”

“I’m gonna go find Joel.”

Faith was already on her feet before Ellie could take a second step. “You’re not going alone.”

Ellie blinked up at her, startled but not protesting.

Faith gave her a small, firm nod. “Let’s go.”

They moved through the row as quietly as possible, earning a few annoyed glances, but neither Ellie or Faith cared. As they stepped into the hall’s dim lighting, they retrieved their coats from where they’d seen Maria hang them, and they made their way outside into the night.

Outside it was quiet. The warm lights hung around above them from building to building made the deserted street look a bit less lonesome, and they scanned their surroundings trying to find any indication of Tommy having walked by. They figured he was probably looking for Joel, too.

Ellie was moving fast, determined, and Faith didn’t stop her. She just stayed close at her side, scanning the street, watching the shadows, listening for anything out of place. Her fingers twitched restlessly near where the hilt of her knife usually was by her hip, out of instinct more than necessity.

“Where would he go?” Ellie muttered.

Faith didn’t have an answer. Joel hadn’t come back to the house. Not even to check in, not even to shower himself. That silence had hung over her like a warning.

Then she saw them—footprints in the snow, still fresh. They led toward a small shop farther down the road, tucked between buildings. A dim golden light glowed behind drawn blinds.

“Let’s check there,” Faith said.

The place looked like an old repair shop. The windows were fogged slightly from the warmth inside, and though the door was shut, the stillness of the town made the voices within easy to hear.

Two men. Tommy… and Joel.

“—I have to leave them.”

Ellie froze like she’d been shot.

Her hand hovered over the door handle. Faith saw it trembling.

“—You want me to take ’em?” Tommy’s voice.

Joel answered, and his voice wasn’t hard or cold—it was something worse. It was hollow. “Ellie has to go to the Fireflies. I have to leave her.”

Faith’s breath caught. She turned toward Ellie, but the girl was rigid, eyes wide and locked on the door like it might explode.

Inside, Tommy hesitated. “And the older one? Faith?”

Faith held still.

Joel’s voice came again, low, weary. “She’ll be better off without me. Both of them… You have to take ’em.”

The words were as knives. Cold. Simple. Final.

Ellie jolted back from the door as if it had burned her. Her face crumpled, rage and heartbreak tangling across her features in a storm.

“Ellie—” Faith started, reaching for her.

But Ellie shook her off, backing away a step. “Don’t—just—don’t.”

She turned and walked off fast, boots crunching harshly through the snow. Not running, but close.

“Ellie!” Faith called, starting after her. “Wait!”

Ellie didn’t slow. “I said don’t.”

Faith reached out again—but Ellie jerked away, nearly stumbling as she pulled out of reach.

“Don’t touch me!” she snapped. Her voice cracked. “He’s ditching us. Just like that.”

Faith stood still, stung. Her hand dropped to her side. She didn’t have anything to say. She was feeling just as hurt, too.

The street stretched out in front of them, empty but somehow suffocating, the snow falling gently from above silently over them.

Faith felt like she couldn’t breathe.

She turned to glance back toward the shop, as if Joel might suddenly appear and undo everything with a few words.

But the door stayed closed. The light stayed warm and steady inside.

And out here, it felt cold as hell.

(…)

Joel had been trying to repair his old pair of boots with no success. The tape he had put around with Faith’s help wouldn’t hold up any much longer, but changing the sole itself wouldn’t really help much. After more than three months of walking every day, there wasn’t much left to do.

They looked like shit. Exactly the same as he felt.

Tommy had appeared in the doorway of the shop, then, looking for him. He brought him a new pair of boots and an apology for his words earlier. But Joel knew the one who ought to be apologizing was him. Tommy had always been better at keeping peace, at understanding people. Joel had never had much talent for that. His way had always been to push people away before they could leave first.

And now…

He told Tommy everything.

About Ellie. From the beginning.

He had been alone with his thoughts for hours now… He couldn’t take Ellie to the fireflies. Tommy had to.

So he had to know.

Everything.

“It was Marlene… She hired us to smuggle Ellie to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit… She made me swear to take the kid. It was her dyin’ wish, what the hell was I supposed to do?” his eyes started to tear up remembering Tess’s death, he didn’t care. “We made it as far as K.C., and then… You know, she saved my life there, from another kid.”

His insides still twisted and turned at the thought, bile raising up from his stomach. The shame hit hard and hot in his chest. It always did when he thought about that moment.

“Five years ago I would’ve destroyed him. But she had to shoot him to save me. Fourteen years old… Because I was too slow and too fuckin’ deaf to hear him comin’.”

He let the silence sit for a moment. It was heavy, but it felt honest.

Tommy exhaled slowly, then asked,“… That’s where you met Faith?”

Joel nodded, his jaw tightening. “She’d wandered into the city to get supplies and got stuck there when FEDRA was overtaken by the resistance. She’d been alone for… Too fuckin’ long. I don’t know exactly how much, but god, Tommy… She’s only sixteen. Imagine that. Being alone on your own like that, in this world… She’s just a kid.”

He had thought about it in the quiet nights, watching Faith sleep curled up next to Ellie. She never took off her shoes. She never asked for help unless she couldn’t avoid it. He’d seen her fingers twitch in her sleep like she was still holding a weapon.

Joel cleared his throat roughly. “Her little sister got infected when Faith was twelve. She told me how… how their dad shot her before she’d turn. Her mother was already dead. That’s all I know for sure. I don’t know what happened to her dad, but I believe he hasn’t been around since. I think… I think she’s been alone since then. Four goddamn years.”

He swallowed. Hard. What had happened to her father? Why wasn’t he with her, taking care of Faith, as a dad should?

If Sarah was still here, Joel would never let her go.

Tommy stayed quiet. Joel’s words hung in the air like smoke.

“She was hidin’ with a man and his brother when we met. Henry and Sam. We made it out of K.C. together. Told her she could come with us if she didn’t want to be alone anymore.” He paused. “I thought it was the right thing. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just selfish. Because she would’ve been better off now on her own.”

He ran a hand down his face, weary beyond description.

“She nearly died on my watch, Tommy. Got sick—real sick. Some lung infection that damn near took her. And I couldn’t do nothin’ but try to bring down her fever and pray she didn’t stop breathin’ in her sleep.”

There was a tightness in Joel’s chest, not from the cold or the guilt—something else.

“Ellie’s… she’s too important. To the world. She can’t afford to have someone like me lookin’ after her. I freeze up. I mess up. She’s safer with you.”

“Joel…”

“I saw a man kill his own brother, to save her, while I just watched,” he added, sombre. “And today I thought that dog was gonna tear her apart because it smelled somethin’ on her… And all I did was stand there. I couldn’t… Move. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just –“ his voice wavered, his walls crumbling down to the ground now. “I was so afraid.”

Tommy kept silent, shifting in his seat, processing the information.

“You think I can still handle things but I’m not who I was,” Joel shook his head firmly. “I’m weak. Lately there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere and… my heart, feels like it’s stopped.”

He had lived with a dead heart for years. Ever since Sarah passed away, his heart had stopped beating for anything except staying alive, even if he didn’t want to. In the last few months, the feelings he had been trying to avoid towards the girls… It made him go through the pain and the fear and the utter and absolute panic of experiencing loss again, in a way that he felt his heart couldn’t handle much longer anymore.

“I also have dreams, every night,” he muttered, catching Tommy’s attention.

“… What kinda dreams?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just know that when I wake up… I’ve lost somethin’. I’m failin’ in my sleep. That’s all I do,” he could feel the tears running down his cheeks, unable to stop them, feeling them reach his lips, cold and full of pain. “It’s all I’ve ever done. Fail her. Again, and again, and again… I can’t do that do them, too. I have to leave them.”

Tommy’s voice came out deep, serious, but also full of pain that mirrored Joel’s. “… You want me to take’em?”

“I’m just gonna get’em killed, I know it. Ellie has to go to the Fireflies. I have to leave her.”

“Joel –“

“It’s why you took off on me, right? To make up for the things we did?” Tommy’s words from earlier, at the Tipsy Bison, were still ringing in his ears. “Well, here’s your chance to bring your kid into a better world.”

He was younger than Joel, still strong. He’d send men on the route they’d have to take to reach the Fireflies and they’d all come back. He could do it. Joel… didn’t.

“And you can’t tell anyone, not even Maria.”

Tommy looked at his brother, his inner conflict playing out in his eyes. There was still something else, though. “And the older one? Faith?”

Joel swallowed hard, shaking his head. “She’ll be better off without me. Both of them… You have to take’em.”

It was for the best. For them. Those two girls… They deserved so much better than him.

“Tommy, you’re the only one I trust. If anyone else sees those bites on Ellie, what’s under her skin, they’ll shoot her. And Faith will get shot too tryin’ to safe her. That can’t happen to them. This… It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. I swear.”

Tommy sat there for a long time after Joel stopped speaking, studying his brother.

Joel looked older than he remembered. Not in the way time did to a man—but in the way grief did. In the way guilt and love twisted a person into something worn-down, hollowed-out, but still moving. Still fighting to protect the few things that managed to slip past all the defences.

And Tommy heard it in every word Joel had said.

This wasn’t about running from responsibility. It wasn’t cowardice. This was the most terrified and selfless thing Tommy had ever seen his brother do.

Joel had always been a hard man, but never a cruel one—not where it counted. And even now, when he said he couldn’t protect those girls, Tommy could hear the truth beneath it: he cared for them. Deeply. Maybe even more than he’d ever allowed himself to admit.

Faith… She reminded Tommy of the kids they’d once known back in the QZ. The ones who learned how to fight before they learned how to smile. A sixteen-year-old who’d been alone for four years. Christ. What kind of childhood had she even had?

And Ellie. He hadn’t spent long around the girl, but she was sharp. Tough. Funny in that way you had to be, just to survive. Maria had said she was strange—something about her put people on edge—but Tommy just thought she was a fourteen year old with a smart mouth. Like one he had known a long time ago.

If what Joel said was true… if she really was immune…

The weight of that was enormous.

The fate of the goddamn world.

And Joel wanted to hand it to him.

He rubbed his jaw, let out a long, silent breath, and looked toward the window. The street was still, blanketed in snow. He remembered nights like this in Austin, when everything was simple. When the biggest decision he had to make was whether to pick up a night shift or stay home and drink a beer with Joel on the porch. When Sarah would drag her uncle outside to look at some bug she’d found or show off a new dance move.

Tommy didn’t have a daughter yet. Maybe he’d have one in a few months. He didn’t know much yet about parenting, but what he did know, somehow, is that if it were hiss kids out there—if he had carried them across half the country, willed them through fever and heartbreak—he wouldn’t be able to let go either.

But Joel was letting go. Not because he didn’t care—but because he cared too much.

Tommy could see it, clear as day: Joel wasn’t asking him to take them because he was giving up. He was doing it because he couldn’t live with failing them. Not again. Not the way he failed Tess. Not the way he believed he failed Sarah.

Tommy’s voice was low when it finally came. “You really care about them, don’t you?”

Joel didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

Tommy swallowed hard and nodded. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll take’em.”

(…)

In true teenage fashion, once they had reach the house, Ellie had ran upstairs and slammed the door to her room shut. At least, to the room she’d been in earlier.

Faith, a teenager herself, stormed in after her.

She didn’t knock. Didn’t pause. She shoved the door open and snapped, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ellie had her back to her again, but this time she didn’t stay silent. “Get out.”

“No,” Faith said, stepping in and slamming the door behind her. “Not until you tell me why you just shoved me off like I’m the goddamn problem here.”

Ellie turned then, face red and tense, arms crossed tight across her chest. “Get out,” she repeated, covering her hurt with more anger. “And I had said don’t touch me, and you kept trying!”

“Because you looked like you were gonna fall apart!”

“I was fine,” Ellie snapped, the lie hanging heavy in the room.

Faith chuckled, exhaling through her mouth, bitter. “Bullshit.”

“I don’t need you babysitting me.”

“Oh my god,” Faith groaned, throwing her arms up. “I’m not babysitting you. I’m just—being there. You don’t get to freak out and act like I’m the enemy when I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Ellie’s fists clenched. “You don’t get it.”

“No, I do,” Faith shot back, her voice cracking now. “He said the same thing about me. ‘She’ll be better off without me.’ You think that didn’t hit me too?”

Ellie looked away, jaw tight.

Faith stepped closer. “You think it doesn’t feel like being left again? Like being tossed out because I’m too much or not enough or just—whatever the hell goes on in his head?”

Ellie didn’t answer. But something in her face softened. A crack in the armour.

Faith’s voice dropped, sitting down on the bed with a ‘thud’. “You’re not the only one who’s scared. You’re not the only one who feels like shit. And you don’t get to shut me out just because it’s easier than being hurt.”

Ellie’s eyes filled, finally. She blinked them fast. “I just—I thought he actually—” She choked on the rest.

Faith’s breath hitched. “Yeah. Me too.”

Silence stretched. A long, aching beat. Neither one moved.

Then, quietly, Ellie sank down to the edge of the bed next to Faith. “I’m sorry I pushed you.”

Faith nodded, saying it didn’t matter, that it was okay.

Ellie looked at her, remembering something she had said a few seconds ago. “What did you mean with… bein’ left again?”

Faith didn’t answer at first.

Her eyes flicked away to the far wall like she could hide in it, like if she didn’t look directly at Ellie, the words wouldn’t have to mean so much. Her fingers picked at the loose thread on the blanket beneath them.

“I didn’t mean anything,” she muttered.

“Faith,” Ellie said gently, almost surprised at herself for using that tone. “Come on.”

Another beat of silence. The house creaked somewhere, old wood shifting under the weight of snow. The kind of silence that dared you to break it.

Faith inhaled through her nose, slow and shaky. “My dad... He loved my sister, and me, more than anything. He loved my mom… So much. I remember that, clearly.”

Ellie turned toward her, listening now, quiet.

“Remember that I told you we’d escaped K.C. with some other families?” Ellie nodded. “After some time, around two years, I think… We’d managed to settle on a campsite for a while, but some of the other adults wanted to look for something better, safer… I guess, something like Jackson,” she shrugged. “My dad thought something like this wasn’t possible. He was against FEDRA and all types of groups with a leader. Thought it couldn’t work in a world like this. Guess he wouldn’t be fond of communists like Tommy and Maria, either,” she smiled. “Thing is, we left. He convinced my mom to pack our stuff and to move again. That we’d manage just fine. And we did… Until some raiders showed up.”

She swallowed hard, recalling the memory of the evening she had lost her mom.

“People aren’t any better than infected, you know? Out there, in the open… The monsters you have to fear will often look just like yourself. A normal human… Until they show their claws. My mom died that night. My dad blamed himself. And I… I can’t say I didn’t blame him too, because if we had stayed with the other families, maybe…” she exhaled shaking a bit, and Ellie squeezed her hand between hers.

Faith gave a small nod of thanks for Ellie’s hand, like she wasn’t used to the gesture but was grateful for it anyway. Her voice wavered, but she didn’t stop now. The dam had already cracked.

“He changed after that,” she said quietly. “Not all at once. Not in the obvious way. He still made us food when he could, still told Dahlia bedtime stories. But there were days where he’d just… sit there, staring into the fire like he wasn’t in his body anymore. Like he was somewhere else. With her.”

Ellie didn’t speak, but her thumb rubbed softly over Faith’s knuckles.

Faith’s voice dropped further. “He started talking to himself. Whispering, mostly. I couldn’t always hear it, but Dahlia did. She asked me once if he had ghosts in his head. I told her no. I lied.” a long, slow breath. Then another. “When I was twelve, we stayed in this old house in the woods for a while. Broken windows, creaky floors… but it had a roof, and a lock on the front door. He thought it was safe enough for the night.”

Faith’s fingers were trembling now. Ellie held on tighter.

“I had to keep watch, but I was so exhausted and heartbroken because of my mom I… I fell asleep. Just a second. I don’t know how the infected got in. Maybe it was already in the house. But sometime in the middle of the night, I heard her scream. Loud. One of those sounds you can’t un-hear. I ran to Dahlia, but…”

She stopped. Swallowed. Shut her eyes for a beat too long.

“She was already bitten. Blood everywhere. Dad killed the thing. Then he dropped the knife and just… dropped to his knees, screaming at me, at the world…”

Faith wiped under her nose with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Dad had to take Dahlia from me. I wouldn’t let her go. She was so small… He took her to another room, before she turned. He said… It was merciful of him, to not let her become a monster. After I heard the gunshot –“ her breath hitched. “I cried myself to sleep, I think. I don’t remember much. I felt… numb. I had felt a part of myself dying with her, y’know?” Faith continued, voice fragile but steady, “I found a note next to me on the floor, that morning.”

Her gaze dropped to her lap.

“Just said, I’m sorry, kiddo. I love you. You’ll be better without me.”

Ellie was already shaking her head, eyes glistening.

“I found him not too far. He was sitting up against a tree.” Her breath hitched. “Gun still in his hand.”

Silence fell hard after that. A dense, suffocating quiet.

Faith cleared her throat. “I think he blamed himself, you know? We left the QZ because of him, and then also our group… And then my mom was gone, and Dahlia too. When he was gone as well, I thought I’d soon die too… I was lucky, though. A couple found me two days later, and they let me walk with them. They’re gone too, now, it happened not long after. Then I found another group, and after them another one… Until I just stopped trying to find anyone. I only ever ended up alone again, anyways.”

Ellie blinked fast, trying to say something, anything—but the words jammed in her throat.

“I think part of me knew he’d been gone for a long time already,” Faith whispered. “The man who raised me, loved me, laughed at stupid jokes and taught me about stars and how to patch a wound—that man… he died when my mom did.”

Ellie’s eyes overflowed now. “Jesus, Faith…”

Ellie threw her arms around her, no hesitation.

This time, Faith didn’t even flinch. She sank into it, letting herself be held.

“You didn’t deserve that,” Ellie said fiercely into her shoulder. “Neither of you did.”

Faith didn’t answer, but her arms came up around Ellie’s back, holding just as fiercely.

They stayed like that, tangled up in grief and fury and something too tender to name.

Afterwards they both sat back, sinking deeper into the bed now, legs dangling over the edge, the tension finally beginning to ease—just a little.

Faith drew in another breath, calmer this time. “Sarah.”

Ellie turned her head to her, frowning. “Sarah?”

“Joel’s daughter,” she said. “She was your age when she died.”

“Oh… yeah,” Ellie grimaced, looking back up to the ceiling again. “What ‘bout her?”

“I think… Maybe Joel wants to leave us because of her,” she mumbled. “Maybe we remind him of her. Same ages, and all.”

Ellie was quiet for a moment. The thought lingered in the air like fog, thick and hard to see through. She picked at a loose seam on the blanket, brows furrowed.

Then she shook her head slowly. “Maybe. I mean, yeah… It could be.”

Faith turned her head slightly, watching her.

“But we’re not her,” Ellie said, firm but not cold. “I’m not Sarah. And you’re not Sarah either. He knows that. Has to”

Faith gave a small nod, but didn’t speak.

Her thoughts wandered to her dad again, uninvited but familiar, dragging her backward like they always did. She remembered the look on his face when he saw Dahlia’s wounds—that flicker of denial, the way his hands shook, the way his voice cracked when he tried to tell her it would be okay.

It hadn’t been okay.

Her sister’s death had gutted him. Losing her mom had fractured him, but Dahlia had finished the job. After that night, there was nothing left inside him but silence. He’d made it through till dawn, just barely. Left a note. And then she’d found him dead.

She’d screamed until her throat burned. Cried until the sun was high in the sky. But he didn’t come back.

And now… Joel.

Maybe he was still alive, still walking, still breathing—but she knew that look. Knew what it meant to carry that kind of loss. To wear it like a second skin.

Maybe he wasn’t trying to leave them because he didn’t care. Maybe he was trying to survive the only way he knew how—by not caring too much.

By running from anything that made him remember.

Because maybe they weren’t just reminders of Sarah’s life. Maybe they were reminders of her death. Of everything he couldn’t protect.

And if that kind of love had broken her father…

Faith swallowed hard, blinking fast.

Maybe Joel was breaking now too.

(…)

A while later, Joel stood outside the same house, looking up at the window where he could see light coming from.

He had made his decision. He stood with it, firmly. The girls would have a better chance at life… whatever life they still could have, in this world, but without him.

Tommy would take care of them. He’d do good.

That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt to have to tell them he was leavin’, though.

Joel took off his jacket downstairs, leaving it hanging on the coat rack by the door. He walked upstairs slowly, dreading the moment, holding onto the stairs’ banister to not lose his balance… Until he found himself outside the door, knocking softly.

“Faith? Ellie?”

He pushed the door open, coming face to face with a teenager’s room from twenty years ago, everything still pretty much intact.

His eyes found Faith laying on the bed, straightening up when she saw him, whereas Ellie was sitting on the windowsill against some cushions, reading an old diary.

“Is this really all they had to worry about?” she asked, without glancing up from the book. “Boys, movies, deciding which shirt goes with which skirt… It’s bizarre.”

Joel was quiet at first, and Faith could see he was tense. He avoided her gaze, lookin’ at his shoes when he finally spoke up: “Listen,–“

“Why are you here?” Ellie interrupted him, sharply.

“… I came here to talk to you.”

“No,” she shook her head. “Why are you still here? If you’re gonna ditch us, ditch us.”

Joel realized then, that she’d heard him talking to Tommy. She’d had to. He glanced at Faith, but now she was the one avoiding his gaze. Oh, so she had heard some too.

“What exactly did you hear?” he asked, defeated.

“I have to leave them. You have to take’em.” mimicked Ellie, bitterly.

Faith added in the rest quietly, her voice barely above a whisper: “She’ll be better off without me. Both of them.”

Joel turned to look at her. She hadn’t spoken since he came in. Her eyes were on him now again, but not angry like Ellie’s. Just… tired.

“We both stood up for you today, y’know?” Ellie added. “Because we thought…” She trailed off, jaw tight. Faith didn’t finish the sentence this time.

Joel exhaled, slow and heavy. “I made this decision for your own good,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “You’ll both be better off with Tommy. And to go to the Fireflies—he knows the area better than I do–”

“You keep saying that like it makes it true,” Faith murmured.

He looked at her again. This time, her eyes didn’t drop.

Faith shifted on the bed, folding her hands tightly in her lap.

“You think walking away means protecting us. That leaving now will stop something worse from happening later.” Her voice shook only slightly. “But that kind of thinking—it doesn’t save anyone. It just… leaves them behind.”

Joel’s chest ached, and he didn’t know if it was guilt or anger that burned hotter in him. Maybe both. Because he heard it—in what she wasn’t saying. The kind of pain you don’t say out loud unless you want to fall apart.

He knew that silence. That almost.

Faith wasn’t done, though.

“Maybe I don’t know everything about you. But I’ve seen what you do when you care about someone. I’ve seen how scared you look when you think something bad might happen to us.” She swallowed. “You’re not leaving because it’s what’s best for us. You’re leaving because it hurts to care. Because you’re scared of what comes next.”

Joel didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His throat felt like gravel.

Ellie stepped forward now, voice rising again. “She’s right. You’re not protecting us, Joel—you’re abandoning us.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “You don’t understand–”

Ellie stopped him. “I’m not her, you know?” silence fell. Faith looked at Ellie, thinking for a second that maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring up Sarah now. Her feelings though, the hurt and the rejection, stopped her from intervening. “Neither is Faith. We’re not her. Maria told us about Sarah and—”

Joel’s face changed in an instant. Hardened. His whole body stiffened, like her name alone had struck a nerve.

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head slowly, low and warning. “Don’t say another word.”

But Ellie stepped toward him anyway, voice tight: “I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel. I am. But I’ve lost people too.”

Joel snapped, “You have no idea what loss is.”

Ellie’s voice cracked, but she didn’t stop. “Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me. Everybody. Fucking except for you!” She shoved him hard in the chest with both hands. “So don’t tell me that I’d be safer with somebody else, because the truth is I’d just be more scared.”

Silence hung there, thick and trembling.

And then, softly—Faith’s voice joined in. Quieter than Ellie’s, but steady now. “You’re wrong,” she said. “We do know what loss is.”

Joel turned to her slowly.

Faith’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “You think you're the only one who’s buried someone you love and still wakes up every morning wishing it wasn’t true?” She took a breath. “You think you're the only one who’s scared of caring again—because what if you lose them too?”

Joel didn’t answer. But in his eyes, something cracked.

She didn’t mention her sister. Or her mother, or her father. Of course he knew she knew what loss was. She had told him about Dahlia herself. His heart was still hurting for her and everything she’d been through. But his own pain, older than Faith herself, made him blind to hers that moment.

“You’re not the only one who’s still bleeding,” she said.

Joel looked between them both. Two girls—one furious, one haunted—both telling him they still needed him.

And it was too much.

“You’re right,” he said finally, voice low. “You’re not my daughter.”

His eyes lingered on Ellie… then on Faith.

“And I sure as hell ain’t your dad.”

He turned for the door.

“Come dawn,” he said, his voice colder now, “we’re going our separate ways.”

He turned. Walked out. Slammed the door behind him.

And at some point that night, the three of them were crying at the same time.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @kitdjarin1@christinamadsen@abtjudex@hongjoong-titties@cokoladasljesnjakom

[taleahbabyyy]

The taste of you

All he’s ever wanted was the taste of you the touch of you, even the smell of you. Every night he would watch you through your window watching your every movements. he couldn’t help himself, he just had to see you again had to take one last look at you before the sun came up before he had to go into hiding again.

He finally left before you noticed him looking at you through your window, and went back to his abandoned barn and laid on his mattress still thinking of you. He would think about how good you would smell how good you would taste against his tongue, but fuck your smell that fucking smell couldn’t leave his nose and mind. Just thinking of you made him very hard not to mention your very sweet smell making him press against his suspenders, he had to free himself he had to feel this relief he doesn’t know how much longer he can go on without touching your smooth soft skin.

After he unzips his pants and swiftly takes his member out he begins to stroke it roughly as he kept thinking about you over and over again, he starts to go faster the more he thought about it the more he thought about you bending over with that Perfect ass that you have not to mention your beautiful big plump lips. Fuck your lips how he wanted to kiss them so badly until they were swollen and big, he started to come to his high thinking about how badly he wanted to be inside of you how he wanted to feel every inch of you”f-fuck I need ya so fuckin bad y/n.”

The next day you were doing your daily chores while you were cleaning up the house, your parents just left and wouldn’t be back till the next day so you thought you could tidy up the place and do your chores yes you were of age to move out but you’re still working hard to get to have your own place.

As you finally got done cleaning you went to go clean yourself off, after you were done you heard a knock at the door. You walked down stairs and into the living room and opened the door seeing Remmick, you helped him once when he really needed you when his skin was burning and smoking and he was all burnt clinging onto dear life you let him in as he promised he wouldn’t be any trouble.

Every night he would always visit you and crave you but he would always hold himself back, even though it nearly killed him not being able to taste you and touch you your scent is what drove him crazy your smell drove him nearly insane. But eventually he stopped seeing you and you actually missed him and wondered about if he was okay.

But now suddenly he’s here standing right in front of you, “Remmick are you okay?.” You nervously ask him “of course I am darlin may I please come in?.” You open the door wider for him to enter as you walk away from him, he walks in and closes the door behind him.

“Where have you been Remmick? You stopping comin by.” He sighs “M’sorry sweetheart I know I’ve been gone too long but I couldn’t get ya outta m’head.” You walk into the kitchen and put away dishes in the cabinet as he still watches you not saying a word finally you look back on him and break the silence” what do ya want rem? I haven’t seen ya in weeks now suddenly ya appear outta thin air?.”

“I can’t come by to see ya?.” You giggle “no ya can it’s just weird seein ya.” He starts to walk closer to you”I just-couldn’t go on another night without seeing ya without feelin ya.” You don’t say anything you just stare at him ready for his next move as he’s now face to face with you.

“Y’know while I was away from ya, I couldn’t get this pretty little face outta m’head and believe me I tried so hard to fight back but I can’t no more.” You don’t really understand what he’s talking about as you just stand there still “what ya tryna say rem?.”

He doesn’t say anything else as he grabs you and begins to kiss you roughly but soft at first, you were so shocked you didn’t know what to do but kiss him back immediately. By the way he was kissing you, you could tell he’s wanted you for so long and he’s trying his hardest to hold back but you’re making it very hard for him to do that.

While still kissing you, he doesn’t stop until your lips started to swell up and you’re breathless. his touch was very mesmerizing you couldn’t help but to kiss him back and touch him, he’s waited so long for this to finally taste you.

But even though this was everything he was waiting for, he still wanted more kissing wasn’t just all he wanted from you. He stops kissing you and takes a moment and looks at you, you look at him nervously not sure what his next move is”jump.” You jump on him and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you upstairs.

He lays you down on your bed and begins to kiss you once more, this time he starts to bite down on your bottom lip asking for entrance for which you finally grant.

He slides his tongue finally in your mouth both of your tongues fighting for dominance, he slides his hand up your dress and down your soaked cotton underwear as he gently sticks his finger inside of you making you moan into the kiss.

He sticks another finger inside of you and begins to pump in and out, your breathing hitches as you try to concentrate on the kiss. He starts to fasten his pace you couldn’t control your moans anymore as he was pumping harder inside of you.

Your moans we’re driving him crazy he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold back on you, you moved your leg as it accidentally brushed against his very hard member which made him even more hard you start to tense up with feeling how hard he was for you. You didn’t know what you were doing that made him feel this way about you.

He stops just as you were getting close and takes his fingers out of you and sticks it in his mouth and licks them clean you see his eyes darken with pure lust. He then gets up from off of you and unzips his pants and takes them off along with his shirt.

He walks over to you and climbs on top of you, he pulls down your underwear all the way off of you as you start to squirm a little he couldn’t help but to chuckle seeing how adorable you looked as you squirmed under him and his touch not to mention how you’re gonna take him seeing how big he was.

He aligns his tip to your dripping entrance, he finally slides inside of you as you grab onto him tightly and gasp at his fullness, he starts to thrust into you deeply making you moan and whimper as he rests his face in the crook of your neck inhaling your sweet scent that he goes crazy for.

“Yer so fuckin perfect to me baby, yer gonna make me loose my damn mind.” He grabs your thigh for better access as he starts to pound deep inside of you making you moan louder “Remmick s-slow down please.” As much as he does listen to you and respect you, he couldn’t help it he couldn’t slow down he finally has you and he’s not gonna waste any more opportunities.

He starts to kiss you on your neck and your jawline, you start to feel yourself getting close as your walls start to tighten around his member squeezing him making him hiss”f-fuck y/n ya squeezing me so fuckin tight.” He starts to hit you g spot making you immediately release all over his member as you let out a whimper. Remmick wasn’t far from behind you as he did one last deep thrust, releasing his seed deep inside of you.

Finally he pulls out of you as you’re now sore from how hard he fucked you, now vulnerable to anything he does to you now “now you’ll always belong to me.”

[cas-edspace]

“Why are you eating a lousy sandwich?” Lucanis asked the other side of the dinner table, a bit of offended. It was his turn to cook! He’d understand if it was Harding’s turn, but it wasn’t- it was his.

Did the one person he wanted to enjoy his cooking didn’t? When Rook smiles sheepishly, it did nothing for his nerves. “I didn’t want to waste such a delicious looking meal on me.”

If finding out that Rook was eating a sandwich didn’t grabbed everyone’s attention already, those words certainly did. Bellara seemed to splutter up something about it wouldn’t be a waste. Neve and Emmrich stared at Rook, calculating, investigating as if just looking at them will give them the answer. For Davrin, it did, as he proceeded to ask, “Hey Rook, when did you join the Wardens?”

Alarms sung for the rest of non-warden Veilguard. “During the 4th blight.”

“But- That was 22 years ago!” Bellara jumps in.

“And I am 32.”

A chorus of the number 10 was heard, gathering more and more emotion as the more it dawns.

“I was visiting family friends with my parents in Ferelden. I lost my parents there, and I was blighted. Found by wardens, and was sent off to Weisshaupt.”

“I do not know what is scarier, your happenstance or your casualness in this tragedy!” Emmrich announces, astonished.

“But back on topic,” Rook routes back, “Whether it was because I was blighted through puberty or just from the blight, but after some pretty nasty fight, I’ll just taste fire. And, well, Neve and Lucanis saw how badly those demons wanted my ass. So today? I am just burning everywhere, and that includes my tastebuds.”

“Oof, got anymore bad symptoms?” Davrin asked.

“Let’s compare notes later, somewhere where no one is eating or overhearing. I think I scared our friends enough.” Rook replied, before turning back to Lucanis. “I don’t want to waste your food on someone who can’t enjoy it.”

This left Lucanis conflicted. On one hand, Rook wanted to respect his cooking, but on the other, they can’t enjoy it. Not today, and probably not the next. Especially with how much their respective enemies always target Rook, no matter what. Some will leave the fight with him to attack Rook! (They get an extra dose of poison for that.)

Keep. Rook. Safe. And Lucanis couldn’t agree more.

“What about tea?”

“Oh, I love tea because it is always soothing on my throat. And if I fight good enough, I also get to enjoy its taste too!” Yep, all enemies are dying a fast death.

[magicalswimmingsubmarine]

Nana was perfectly fine with staying in their own little bubble of two; and eventually cornbread, who watched them every night from nana’s side of the bed in a janky frame she won at the carnival. She was convinced that adding more people into their space, into their lives, would offset the equilibrium. At most, a few of their friends., one that took the photography course with them and another who she had met because she went to a printing event and was very impressed with her fabrics. Some modeling friends knew Tylio as well, and one she was sure had a bit of a crush on him, but she didn’t mind. Polly and Ramona had even added him into a group chat with the four of them, against Nana’s wishes, sending memes and talking about their day like a regular family does. Secretly, she was happy they were nice to him, because she really really liked it when people were nice to him. She didn’t mean to be so isolated, it just felt safest. He’d brought it up before, the idea of her meeting with his family when they went to France, and she’d said yes but that was before.. before this. It was too much to think about, the humiliation, the shame that crept in, why couldn’t she just be normal for him? Someone who she was sure his parents would like. Sometimes she’d hear him talking on the phone with them and there wasn’t much she could pick up, Nana didn’t know French, but she’d tried searching some things up, even got a thesaurus’s for it. She’d learned how to say Hello and May I have Waffles Please and hoped that would be enough to be allowed in their home. She couldn’t say no, this was important to him, wasn’t it? She’d risk the scrutiny. It didn’t matter much to her, if they didn’t like her appearance, but it mattered in how Tylio would feel, she knew he wouldn’t like it, if they had concerns about her, who their wonderful son had been living with. And she couldn’t blame them.

She yelped as he tickled her, trying to scramble away but his hands kept her in place. “That’s an illegal move, you know the rules, wait until I get my hands on some newspaper.” She gently smacked him on the snout, but she simmered down, because his smile was so nice

“What? I thought you French people were progressive and shit, always using that word to describe each other,” she wasn’t sure where she heard that from, probably something she made up. “Say something else in French for me… say.. hmm.. kitty..” this was her idea of dirty talk. Sometimes, she treated him like a little experiment, and every time he said something in French it was like watching the National Geographic channel.

The look in his eyes did something to her as he approached her. His hands on her chest felt nice, her pink nipples hardening beneath his touch. She’d pierced them during her escapade, but by now they were healed enough for them to be touched. She’d gotten used to not having to wear a bra, too. Her head tilted to the side, a relieved exhale pushing itself out of Nana's chest when she felt the encompassing warmth of Tylio's mouth on her. His lips were incredibly gentle, igniting a warmth within her that she had not anticipated. Every kiss made her quiver and she moaned soft, gentle melodies. Nana always thought her moans were a bit girly in comparison to her voice, that was usually a bit gravelly and monotone; But she couldn’t help it, it was almost instinctual, whimpering at the slightest touch. Her skin felt so sensitive these days.

She pushed out thoughts that would try to disturb her, trying not to think about the pictures he took, or wonder how they turned out, a gentle ache lingering in her mind. She drowned it out by focusing on only him, her fingers spread against his back, clawing at the material of his shirt. Heat surged within her, her fingers hungrily roamed over him. They proceeded to his abdomen, where they carved out his figure. With a clumsy motion, she started to undo the small button on his pants by pulling at the waistband with her nails.. Her feet traveled down as well, and she used her ankles to help push the heavy material of his pants down his hips. Fuck, she was excited to see what underwear he picked for the day. "Are you going to fuck me against the window?" She breathed into his ear.

Tylio couldn't help but chuckle when she proposed that they simply stop asking each other questions like an old married couple. That did sound kind of nice. But he was pretty sure the reason old married couples didn't ask a lot of questions, was because the questions were already answered. And what was he supposed to do, never meet her family? Never have her meet his family either? His relationship with his parents was not perfect, they didn't have a lot of contact but he was kinda hoping to introduce her to them soon. He wanted to visit them with her next month, when Nana would have a few days off work and they were planning on making a trip to France. He came up with the idea at first because he thought it might help her relax and feel better to be away from the city and all of its tabloids for a little while, but he realized later that it was also a good opportunity to have her meet his parents. He still wanted to talk to her about that, too. Because they were going to be surprised, most likely. Because while they hadn't met her yet, he did send them a picture of her. It was a photo from after they just started dating, when she still had her previous look and while her switching up her appearance and style didn't really change her as a person, he knew his parents were probably going to ask questions about it. Not that they were going to disapprove, but it was going to be awkward. He wanted to prepare her for that, if at all possible. Prepare her for the awkward questions. Especially his mother, who was perhaps even more old fashioned than his father, would have questions about why she decided to shave part of her head.

"I'm not impatient, I'm just thinking that...", he trailed off as Nana pulled him closer and showered him with kisses, until his face and his neck were pleasantly tingling. Then she kissed his lips too, for good measure, and he couldn't keep himself from kissing her back because she really was a great fucking kisser. It took all of his self discipline to pull back and look her in the eye, a silent insistence for her to give him a real answer. And she did. It was kind of reluctant, he could see that but she said she would talk to her father about it. Tylio's eyes narrowed.

"Ouais? That didn't sound very convincing. Are you lying right now? You're lying, aren't you? I can tell, you know", he teased her as a grin spread across his face and he briefly tickled the side of her waist. Her thumb found his mouth, almost as if she was trying to make him shut up about the whole thing. He caught her thumb between his teeth, just for a second, and then she called him pretty and he had to laugh. "It's not a compliment for a guy, Nana", he chuckled, shaking his head, but when she caught onto his hand and shifted it up underneath her shirt, it worked wonders as a distraction tactic. His expression shifted a little bit, a flicker of lust beginning to dance behind his eyes. He was done asking questions. He put down the camera, his other hand sliding up the front of her shirt as well, pushing her backwards and against the window. He moved closer, his breath warm against her face. "You sound like you need me to prove it to you..." His head tilted and he began kissing her neck, his hands creeping upwards and eagerly cupping both of her breasts.

[void-tiger]

…wHY do y’all feel the need to mention where someone’s at when they’re not around! Sure I have a crush on that idiot but I’m never going to admit to it, and actively avoid bringing them up myself ‘cause it’d feel like a freudian slip and it’s not my business anyway.

How often do I even come up in y’all’s home conversation. Is it out of pity? Or is this idiot just as insufferable as I am to my friends who are WELL AWAY from this and therefore Safe to repeatedly try spring-cleaning my demiromantic acengst with.

Are y’all pressuring them about me, too, or has that FINALLY, finally eased off.

(And what value can I possibly have, anyway. I’m unemployed and just shy of a shutin from severe anxiety/moderate depression and cptsd, adhd, and a smorgasbord of muscular-skeletal issues that just keep creeping up and staying and moving the goalpost to even TRY getting a job. The idiot has other friends when they have time to spend on them. All I am is stubborn enough to stick around and wait if I’m not actively being chased off IF the other party seems to really want that connection.)

[goblins-and-gloves]

Angry at parents hour!

Undiagnosed autistic fuckers are delulu.

[jocelynships]

I’m trying not to let my bad feelings take over rn but hoo boy I am. Really angry/upset/sad/whatever at everything right now

[bilboyagathechickenfootedhobbit]

“Hi I get my kids names mixed up and I’m not really sure how old either of them are and I *think* one of them has a nut allergy? Or it may be strawberries……or penicillin? Anyway, someone has an allergy to something, I’m sure it won’t matter. After school activities? I dunno, the missus usually brings them home around 5pm, that’s when school lets out, right? Oh, one of them is in band and the other does track? Oh….uh…..huh. They have meets and competitions? Oof….wait, one of them volunteers at the local daycare? And I have to pick them up and drop them off? And the other volunteers at the animal shelter on the weekends and needs me to drop them off and pick them up??? But that’s when I drink and watch sports!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO TAKE THEM TO THEIR DOCTORS APPOINTMENTS??? I didn’t even realize they HAD a doctor!!

But yes, I am perfectly qualified to raise my children wholly on my own and should be given all the custody.”

Men cannot complain about women getting custody most of the time while also thinking it's quirky to not know things like where their kid goes to school or what they're allergic to 😭🤚