#which ends up with wade cuddling on the floor and asking him what happened at work

[drac0line1nn1t]

*Wade comes home from work to find Logan sitting on the floor with a bottle, but its not alcohol* Wade: What are you drinking? Logan: ..... Wade: Honeybadgerrr. Logan: 'M drinking Althea's nail polish remover.. Wade: Why??? Logan: ... I had a really bad day today at work and you refuse to keep alcohol in this house anymore. *Wade goes over and sits next to him on the floor wrapping an arm round Logans shoulders and gently taking the half empty bottle away* Wade: Oh peanut.... Al uses the non alcoholic kind. *Logan just stares at the floor and starts crying*

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x reader (A/n- The past week has been hectic and tough, but we made it! Anyways, this may be the last update for this one for a couple weeks. Maybe. Finals are staring tomorrow, so I’ll only be posting things that I’ve managed to complete over the past two weeks or so. However, the exams are online and open book this semester, with way more time to complete them, so maybeeeee, I’ll sneak something in)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  5  6

Warnings- Very, very slight smut

Chapter 7- Behind The Scenes

"And cut!" Jackson yelled, and after a minute of delay, Y/n along with everyone else in the scene stopped, some breathing sighs of relief, others diving straight into conversation. She'd been fretting against bindings on her arms and legs, though, upon his call, Y/n's muscles relaxed and a small group came to help out of the restraints that bound her to an old iron chair, which in actuality wasn't that old, in an abandoned warehouse, which really happened to be a section of the studio decked to look differently. 

From the minute the last of the rope was undone, Y/n stood, stretching her muscles. She'd been sitting in the same position for an hour. Just then, Keanu came over, wide grin plastered on his ruggedly handsome features, "Don't tell me I missed you being bound and gagged?" He teased, low enough so they wouldn't be discovered. While she'd been tied up, much like your typical kidnap victim, Keanu had been in the thick of his fight scene just a few feet off.

"Just by a bit," Y/n teased playfully. She was about to say more when Jackson approached them, his hair a wild, disheveled mess as it usually was and his grey button up was wrinkled to match his skittish, eccentric persona.

"There are my stars," he grabbed their shoulders, "I just wanted to let you two know, whatever’s changed between you two, I’m loving it. The chemistry is fantastic! Keep going like this and people will start thinking that you’re actually a couple!” As usual, Jackson seemed to completely forget about social cues, walking off before either of them could respond.

“Its….almost….like we’re actually a couple,” Y/n cocked her head to the side, a teasing glimmer twinkling in her bright eyes. Slowly, they started towards the entrance, close enough so her shoulder would occasionally brush Keanu’s arm, though not touching intentionally.

“I know,” Keanu scoffed, shaking his head, “It’s wild,” he chuckled, holding the door open so Y/n could exit first. The minute they were both outside, Keanu took a quick look around, before hastily shifting until he’d had Y/n backed up into the outer, grey painted wall of the studio, his front pressed firmly to hers. He looked down at her, feeling himself react to her coy, sultry grin, “I mean think about it; a girl like you, and I get to do this,” Keanu’s hands skimmed up her thighs, slow enough so his touch would send tingles up her spine as it made his way to her hips, slipping beneath the hem of her tattered, light blue blouse.

“I know right,” Y/n giggled, standing on her toes, “A guy like you, and I get to do this,” her fingers tangled in the ends of his soft, dark locks, twirling them between her fingers as she reached up to capture his lips in a kiss that quickly became heated. “We’re gonna get caught,” Y/n mumbled against his lips when he reached for the button of her jeans.

“You started it,” Keanu accused, pressing his denim clad hard on into her.

“Well,” Y/n giggled between passionate pecks, “Why don’t we finish this in my trailer?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“So,” they were huddled on the sofa, basking in the afterglow of their pleasure, "We're gonna be off for a month from next week. Got anything planned?" That was actually Keanu's way of asking Y/n if she'd be spending any time with him. It was illogical, but some part of his mind was worried that what they were doing was exclusive only to Chicago.

They weren't calling it a relationship. At least not yet. It was as if they were scared to.

Y/n shrugged in his embrace, absently tracing circles into Keanu's chest. "I don't really know yet," she thought for a moment more, "I'm definitely gonna spend some time with my dad, maybe I'll fly out to see my aunt," chuckling quietly, she eventually added, "And I'm dating this guy, he’s probably gonna want me to spend some time with him too.”

“Sounds needy,” Keanu played along, his fingers tangled in the ends of her hair, his other hand splayed on Y/n’s back.

Y/n made a little sound of disagreement, “He’s more of a control freak, especially in the bedroom,” she shifted so Keanu could see when she rolled her eyes, the gesture completely exaggerated, and when Keanu smacked her ass, Y/n yelped in surprise, “Ow!”  Her shoulders shook as she erupted in a fit of giggles.

“What about your mom?” Keanu probed when the mood settled as they lapsed into yet another somber bout. Up until then, Y/n never talked about her mother, she’d mentioned her father a couple times, never by name and only briefly. But never her mother.

Y/n didn’t make any move to respond immediately and Keanu was beginning to think that she hadn’t heard him. Or perhaps she’d wanted nothing to do with the question. Though, Y/n eventually gave in, feeling the weight of her silence press down on them, “What about her?”

“You aren’t going to see her too?” Really, it probably wasn’t his business, Keanu was mostly sure that Y/n would tell him about her family life if she wanted too.

Shrugging again, Y/n maintained her facade of indifference and if there was any turmoil swirling beneath her exterior, Keanu couldn’t readily identify it. Of all the women he’d met, all the women he could never figure out, Y/n was by far the most difficult. She was an enigma of sorts. Maybe that was what had made her so alluring. She was so quiet and reserved that an air of mystery followed her like plumes of smoke signaled fire and her demure disposition was perfectly enticing, her obvious innocence making Keanu want to show her things. Ruin her even. But only in the best ways. 

Y/n was the embodiment of a paradox, the thought; the more she told him, the less he knew. And her silences were typically quite telling. Much like the one she’d just sunk into. Her relationship with her mother was clearly a sore subject, and Keanu was about to remind her that she didn’t need to tell him more than she wanted to when Y/n spoke up, “I’m not, we haven’t spoken since I was fifteen.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, cuddling Y/n closer. Again, he wanted to know more. Yet, he didn’t know if it was even his place to prod around; Y/n didn’t exactly come across as the type that wanted to open just out of the blue like that. Still, he felt compelled to put it out there, “You can talk about it, if you want ”

On his chest, Y/n folded her arms, propping her chin there so she could almost meet his gaze, “I don’t want,” she rejected, already disinterested in the topic, “So, what about you; what are you doing with the time off. Any hot girls to keep you busy?”

Chortling quietly, Keanu let his rough palms inch lower, reaching her thighs and urging her legs open, “Oh,” he cocked a devilish grin, “Just one.”

It had been a while since she’d been there, but still, Y/n knew the place like the back of her hand. Her father’s beachfront home on the Malibu stretch was the perfect reflection of contemporary luxury; thirty two hundred square feet of modern architecture situated on thick round posts, holding the house nearly four feet off the pale sand. When tides were high, water would invade the space beneath the house, and unless you were willing to wade through a foot worth of ocean, then you’d be stuck there until the water receded. 

Inside, large panes of glass, lightly colored hardwood and white marble dominated. Natural lighting filtered in from several places, though transparent walls and awning windows, negating the need for bulbs during the day and the view from the living room was spectacular; the vast blue was straight ahead, just past an infinity pool that hung daringly over the shore. 

An open floor plan allowed one to still see the sparkling water even from the small kitchen, which was nearer to the front door. Y/n and Roger had spent most of their evening there, preparing dinner together. Or course, it might have been easier to order in or maybe even let one of the house keepers do it for them, but cooking together was something they enjoyed. It made Y/n feel normal; in the kitchen she wasn’t a rising actress and her father wasn’t an acclaimed director. It was just a father and his daughter, most of the time floundering around a recipe that was far too complicated for their sub par talents put together. 

That night, Y/n was on pasta duty while her father sauteed scallops in a white wine sauce, both often referring to the recipes on their phones. “I think I’m doing this wrong,” he eventually admitted, when for some reason beyond comprehension, the sauce started to dry down without the shellfish taking on the golden color it was supposed to.

“Maybe you didn’t put in enough liquid?” It was no doubt more of a question than sage advice, and Y/n was too busy trying to finely chop a handful of parsley to pay attention to whatever Roger’s troubles were anyway.

“You’re right,” he hummed, grabbing the bottle of Pinot Gris next to the stove, pouring a generous amount into the pot, “Wine makes everything better,” he chuckled. Y/n just shook her head, rolling her eyes absently at his ridiculous quip. “So,” Roger began once he seemed to get everything under control, just as Y/n finished draining a potful of al dente penne pasta, “How are things in Chicago?”

What he really meant was; did you ever work things out with Luke and he who had never been named?

“They’re good,” Y/n started up her own sauce, trying to follow every direction to the letter, unlike like her father, who usually preferred to add his own touch, even if his culinary skill set was next to nil, “Filming has been lots of fun, I’ve been…..hanging out with….people,” just one person really.

“You’ve been hanging out?” Roger seemed surprised, if he knew his daughter as well as he thought he did, and without fail, he really did, he knew for a fact that Y/n wasn’t the ‘hanging out’ type. She’d always been more reserved, keeping an alarmingly small friend circle and almost everyone at an arm's length. There was only a privileged few that had seen her for the sweet girl she really was, with an overly sensitive heart and an open mind. Most people, the ones that didn’t really know her often, though she was stand-offish and too prissy to hold them in conversation. “Are these people real?”

Y/n’s dismay came in the form of a huff, contained in her throat and an annoyed rendition of the classic, “Dad!” Huffing again, she continued the task as hand, measuring out the right amounts of stock before pouring it into the pasta, following that up with a generous handful of basil.

“Can you blame me?” Roger took a lengthy sip from his beer, proceeding to lower the lower the flame on his burner, letting their entree simmer. When Y/n just scoffed, he continued, determined to wean what he wanted out of her, “So, did you ever work things out with Luke?”

For a minute, Y/n considered pretending to not hear him, but there weren’t really any disruptive noises, unless you counted the crashing of waves muffled by the walls. Besides, she’d just feel guilty about ignoring him anyway. “No,” she breathed reluctantly.

Roger nodded slowly, regarding Y/n curiously, “But you’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” 

Why’d he have to know her so well?

Well, there was no point in lying anyway. “Yeah, we’ve been going out for about two months now. He’s nice.”

“Yeah? Nice enough for me to like him?” Of course her father would want to meet that man she was dating. Curse him for being so involved! 

Y/n just shook her shoulders, wishing that there was a way for her to just slither out of that conversation. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of dating Keanu or anything like that, but she still wasn’t really sure of what they were doing. He’d never called himself her boyfriend, and she had even considered that she might be his girlfriend. It felt even juvenile to have to think about something as frivolous as labels, but for the first time, Y/n understood Luke’s desire to have them. Labels were easy and unambiguous. There was no toeing around the subject or wondering where you stood. 

But on the flip side, Y/n wasn’t even sure if she wanted Keanu to be her boyfriend. He was a little confusing, serious most of the time but humorous at others and she constantly felt like he was holding out on her, like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And worst yet, Y/n didn’t think she’d exactly call herself ‘girlfriend material’, she was a little too self-concerned sometimes and found that she couldn’t always empathize when she was stuck in her own thoughts and feelings. Who wanted that for a partner? 

“Well?” Roger probed, awaiting an answer. Why was it so confusing? Because despite both their obvious flaws and incompatibilities, Y/n wanted things to work with Keanu. She thought she could want them to work in the forever kind of way, even if he didn’t seem like the kind of man interested in forever, even if part of her knew that she probably shouldn’t. 

“I don’t think we’re ready for that yet,” the mood changed and Y/n gave the pasta one last stir before turning the stove off, “We’re just…..”

“Seeing where things go?” He chuckled quietly, shaking his head, getting a couple dishes out of the overhead cabinet mounted to the wall over the sink, “Why are you young people always doing that? Seeing where things go? When I was your age, people dated for a future, for marriage.” Which was probably how he’d ended up with her mother.

At a loss for words, Y/n just raised her brows in unspoken annoyance as she took a generous swing from her own tinted bottle. She didn't really want to broach the whole ‘Keanu wasn't really her age’ part of her answer, "I don't know what to tell you dad. I'm just not looking for that right now," she shrugged, helping him with plating their dinner. Afterwards, he grabbed a couple of stemless wine glasses and Y/n grabbed a bottle of white from the refrigerator, following her father out to the balcony where they'd be having dinner.

 "What about him?" Their talk was starting to feel like an interrogation.

"What about him?" Y/n shook her shoulders, using the toe of her black ballet pump to shove the screen door open. When she saw the warning eye, scolding her sass, coming from her father's direction, Y/n sighed internally, relenting, "He's not looking for anything too serious either."

Y/n could see the worry in his gaze, nearly boring into the side of her head. Maybe it was the turmoil of her parents' marriage, maybe it was just her nature, but Y/n was proving to be repellent to stable relationships, not wanting to get too serious or go the whole mile. She knew that he'd probably blame himself for part of it, but she wouldn't. She'd cut that offender out of her life the second she could. They set everything down at the table that looked over the infinity pool and the ocean beyond. "Well, who is he?"

Ugh

Y/n was growing tired of the conversation. The less she gave, the more Roger wanted to know. Even if he hadn't been around a lot when she was younger, he always tried to be involved. Usually Y/n didn't mind, he was her go to for parental advice and a listening ear, but as of then, her dating life was a complicated mess and the last thing she wanted was for dad to give her a lecture on why she shouldn't be with Keanu. "It's the guy from Chicago," she evaded, "The one I told you about."

"I thought he didn't feel the same way?" He quoted. 

Pushing some food around with her fork, she shrugged childishly, staring at her glass, the chill of the wine fogging it over, "I guess I was wrong."

"You don't want to talk about this," he finally assessed, "But you know I don't mean to be overbearing, I just don't want you to get hurt again."

"I know," she nodded, "I won't," it was a baseless promise, Y/n had no idea on where things were going with Keanu, and it was likely to end badly, even if she was hoping for the best. 

Their silence stretched on for a while, but when Y/n broke it, she was adamant on shifting gears and getting them to talk about something else. "So, are you reading any new scripts?"

After a lengthy conversation about her confusing dating life, Y/n and her dad had spent the rest of their dinner talking about work. She'd left his place at around nine that Friday night, and after nearly three months of not driving on an actual street, she drove back to her place, a cushy condo in West Hollywood. 

Keanu had called and they'd talked for about an hour, in the end deciding that he'd come to her place that Saturday evening, just after sunset. And, as promised, he'd showed up at around seven, "Hey," he cocked a crooked grin, his motorcycle helmet chucked under his arm and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark jeans and his leather jacket zipped up. 

"Hi," Y/n pulled one of the heavy doors open a bit wider, wordlessly inviting him in through one side of the double entryway. The minute she closed the door and turned the lock, Keanu discarded his helmet on the counter of her moderately sized kitchen, just a few feet off from the entrance, laying his hands on her hips. He pressed a searing kiss to her lips, letting one arm circle her waist. 

"I missed you," he mumbled against her lips, his salt and pepper scruff rough and ticklish on her skin. As they lingered like that, Keanu tilted his head again, his calloused touch inching beneath the hem of her loose, cotton tank top. 

Y/n giggled softly, the musical sound muffled by his lips smooshed on hers, "We saw each other two days ago."

"Two days too long," he growled, tugging her closer that Y/n thought was possible. Really, he was right; in Chicago they saw each other every day, they had sex everyday. 

Y/n's hands skimmed the cool leather of his coat, sliding them upwards until her fingers were tangled in his ends of his shaggy, dark locks, tangling them around her little fingers, “You really missed me, didn’t you?” Y/n teasingly rubbed against his jean clad erection, smiling at how he hissed appreciatively. 

“Baby,” his husky voice was low and rich, the simple word making her feel things, “You have no idea.” Kissing her again, heated and hungry, Keanu pushed Y/n deeper into her apartment, just past a thick rectangular post, where the electronic fireplace was embedded and the television mounted above it. There was an armchair near the unlit fireplace, with soft white upholstering, complemented by black accent pillows, and as they reached it, Keanu slid his palms down the curve of her ass, hoisting her up in his arms. As he sank down into the chair, Y/n straddled him, eager to undo the zipper of his jacket before pushing it off, unabashedly moving on to undo the fastenings on his jeans. 

Groping her ass one last time, Keanu’s hands resumed their former task, traveling up the inside of her worn, grey top, his touch igniting shocks. His lips ravished her neck, probably leaving behind purplish bites and beard burn. Y/n ground in Keanu’s lap, moaning eagerly when he reached around to fondle her unrestrained breasts. Clumsily, she reached between them to free his hardened cock, when a startled obscenity erupting from near the kitchen interrupted them. 

Keanu’s hold on her boobs was still firm as sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Dad!” Y/n shrieked, more horrified than she’d ever been.

“What?” Keanu furrowed his brows, confused at her alarm, and why she’d stopped. Turning and craning his head to see who she was seeing, his eyes went wide, his jaw hanging slack. Just when he thought a situation couldn’t get much worse than sleeping with a woman and then having brunch with her and her boyfriend, Keanu was reminded that it always could. An uncomfortable and awkward brunch was certainly better than getting caught with his hands up the top of an old friend’s daughter. “Roger?”

“Keanu?” Needless to say, Y/n wasn’t the only one absolutely mortified with the situation. Almost immediately after, though still not nearly soon enough, Keanu dropped his hands, not really sure of where they should go from there on. 

It took another minute or two, but eventually, Y/n was scurrying out of Keanu’s lap, tugging at her tank top and loose, grey booty shorts. So much for hiding her somewhat complicated relationship from her father. Though, that wasn’t the issue hot on Y/n’s frazzled mind, “You two know each other?”

Red in face, Y/n stood, barefoot on the fluffy, off-white rug, unconsciously curling her toes into the fabric. Neither of the men made a move to answer and the sheer horror of the moment seemed to be mirrored three ways. Everyone was at a loss for words and tension was on a continuous rise; embarrassment, awkwardness and bubbling anger from at least one person. The room suddenly felt much smaller than it actually was, and though there was at least ten feet and one piece of furniture between Keanu and Roger, anyone could tell that whatever friendship was shared between them, wasn’t going to be there much longer. 

As seconds ticked by, and everyone processed what had just happened, it felt like time was passing too slowly for anything to make sense. Though, when the kettle finally whistled, the noise was piercing and what happened next was not what Y/n was hoping for. 

His face was beet read with anger and his fists were clenched at his side as Roger strode up to Keanu in long steps, “You’re fucking my daughter!”

“Dad!” Y/n screamed, and the rest of it was a blur.  

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​  @paanchu786​  @thesadvampire​  @fanficsrusz​  @fickensteinn​  @ladyreapermc​  @babygirltaina​  @septimaseverina​  @snatchedbylele​  @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx​  @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan  @keandrews @greenmanalishi​

[bgn846]

The Fight

Unable to keep his footing, Ignis could only brace for the impact when the alpha charged at him. It hurt, but he wasn’t down for the count yet. Swinging his legs out briskly sent the alpha down on his back with a thud. The guy barely twitched before he was back up on his feet.  He was persistent, Ignis could give him that.

Groaning at what had been a nice calming break fifteen minutes before, Ignis vaulted himself back up to standing and summoned his pole arm bringing it down on the man’s shoulder. Maybe the asshole would stay down now. No such luck, apparently getting hit with a metal pole merely energized the man. He screamed out some sort of feral battle cry and rushed forward once more.

This had to stop, Ignis was getting tired. His mates were still busy guarding Noct so Ignis was on his own for this fight. The last thing he’d expected was to get attacked by some raging alpha idiot. He’d simply slipped out the back door to get some fresh air. There had been too many alpha’s in a small space, he needed to get away.

They were at a new restaurant for shiva’s sake. A normal eatery in the fancy part of Insomnia that happened to have been constructed entirely with recycled materials, hence, Noct’s visit for the ribbon cutting.  All of that had gone according to plan; it was the celebratory party afterwards that had given Ignis trouble.  All the overbearing scents and raucous laughter were too much. Not to mention the amount of alcohol present.  Why was this party so rowdy?

The excessive drinking was also to blame for Ignis’ current predicament. The one drunk alpha who felt he was entitled to a piece of omega never went well. Ignis could defend himself, he wasn’t without skills. This alpha, however, needed to go away.  Not wanting to outright maim the man Ignis had gone a little easy, now, though as the alpha charged once again, Ignis rethought this tactic. He was already tired and this wasn’t helping.

Raising his weapon Ignis prepared to strike the alpha again. A flash of blue light erupted out of his peripheral causing him to flinch. A second later Noct appeared in front of him and blocked the hit from the larger alpha. The prince moved gracefully and quickly gained the upper hand. Warping from one side to the other helped confuse the other alpha and soon enough Noct had landed several kicks to the man’s abdomen.

Normally Ignis wouldn’t just stand idle when Noct was in danger, but from where he stood panting for breath it seemed as though Noct was doing fine.  He wasn’t left watching alone for long, Prompto appeared by his side a moment later, gun drawn, but pointed downward. Quickly looking back to the fight, Ignis was able to witness the final blow. Noct summoned his father’s sword, the one he’d been gifted on his twenty first birthday, and spun through the air with the precision years of training will offer.

Noct easily connected the pommel with the man’s temple; the alpha crumpled instantly and fell to the ground.  It was only after the assailant stayed down, unmoving, did Ignis dismiss his own weapon. Backing up slightly caused him to bump into Gladio. Ignis hadn’t even been aware his mate was so close. Opting to lean back Ignis let Gladio wrap his arms around his waist.

Ignis caught a glimpse of how enraged Noct was when he turned and stalked over. His magenta colored eye’s were trained on his own.  “Did he hurt you?” Noct seethed as he came to a halt in front of Ignis.

“Nothing that won’t heal in a few days,” Ignis managed in between breaths.

“Who is he?” Noct demanded.

“I believe he’s the driver for one of the developers.”

“He’s getting arrested and charged with assault,” Noct angrily added as he took a deep breath. “Why were you out here?” he asked with a tone that meant he was serious.

“I needed some fresh air, I’m sorry highness, there were too many alp--.”

Noct’s eyes widened and he quickly dropped his hardened expression, “Shit, sorry I’m not mad I just wanted to know all the details. Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Before he was able to respond, the door to the building behind them opened, and several other people spilled out into the rear parking lot area. This of course was followed by even more people coming out to investigate. Needless to say, the night ended up dragging on as they waited for things to be dealt with properly. The police came, interviews were given, security footage was reviewed and the man was arrested.  

Turns out he was a known offender that liked having his way with omegas. This time however, he picked on the wrong omega. The adrenaline rush had long since worn off as they all made their way to the limo to go home. Ignis could honestly say he was exhausted. Thankfully, his pack hadn’t left his side since the incident. For once they had a driver as well, which allowed Ignis to nestle in the backseat with Noct and Prompto on either side. Gladio seemed to know he wouldn’t fit and he took the seat opposite and simply watched.  His warm smile was enough to appease Ignis until he could hug his alpha again.

The drive was a blur as they headed back home, Ignis was still amped to sleep so he instead watched the scenery wiz by. They’d be back and out of the public eye soon enough. The only thing left to figure out was what to do when they arrived. A hot shower sounded divine but Ignis wasn’t so sure his mates would let him go it alone. That was the only fault at being the lone omega in the pack, they doted on him and even more so when things like this happened.

Not that Ignis was upset at their clingy behavior, he secretly loved it. However, his energy level was reaching its limits and he needed to rest. It seemed his exhaustion was more obvious than he’d realized when Noct and Prompto both refused to let him go on the walk up to the suite.

“I’m alright,” he tried feebly as they manhandled him into the elevator.

“Don’t even try, we’re not letting go,” Noct pouted as he smashed the button for their floor.

Sighing fondly Ignis let himself be pulled around.  It wasn’t until they’d reached the front door did Ignis realize what Gladio had been doing. His normally very cuddly alpha was working, his eyes scanning every hallway and dark corner. Figures, he was still on guard, Ignis had to work hard not to keen lovingly out loud at the gesture. Ignis knew that once they were safely inside Gladio would loosen up, but for now it was making his inner omega swoon mightily. The moment the door was closed and locked behind them everything changed. Prompto tackled him for a bone crushing hug and wouldn’t let go.

“Ow,” Ignis huffed softly.

“Shit, sorry!” Prompto exclaimed

“Come on, we are all jumping in the shower and then it’s out to the hot tub on the deck,” Gladio proclaimed as he herded them down the hallway and towards the master bathroom.

“The hot tub?! At this hour, surely you’re joking,” Ignis blurted as he was dragged along.

“Why the hell not, we all want to cuddle you and the hot water will help loosen your muscles up.” Gladio offered.

“It’s nearly three am and I’m barely keeping my eyes open.”

“Prompto can you go turn the jets on and get the cover off?” Gladio instructed ignoring his worries. “Iggy, babe, you are allowed to fall asleep in the hot tub ya know that right?”

“Yes, yes, but I’ll get all pruny.”

“Gladio’s right it’ll help you relax, after that fight especially,” Noct added as he stepped forward to help Gladio undress him.  “Besides we can’t all fit in the bath together, the hot tub will be better.”

Ignis had no time to form an argument in favor of sleeping instead. He was whisked away to the shower where all three of his mates, Prompto had returned from his mission by this time, miraculously fit into the shower stall together. The hot water felt so nice and Ignis couldn’t help but pull the nearest body close to lean on.  

“Careful, you’re gonna make me fall over,” Noct whined as he reached out to steady himself.

Humming in response Ignis simply enjoyed the warmth and let Prompto and Gladio wash away the dirt.  He’d all but forgotten that his pale skin was starting to show bruising from the fight, when Noct sighed mournfully.

“I wish we’d been there to help you fight that asshole,” the prince lamented.

“Though based off the footage I saw you were really giving it to him,” Prompto added with a hint of awe. “Like you hit him with a pole arm and he didn’t stop. Plus you kicked him a ton and he still didn’t slow down.”

“He was the true definition of aggressive, I’ll give you that,” Ignis muttered from where he had his nose buried in Noct’s neck.

“Oh but guys, guess what, guess what,” Prompto enthused suddenly, distracting them from talking about the awful alpha.

“Oh no, I know that tone, you’ve done something,” Gladio sighed as he reached out and ruffled Prompto’s wet hair.

“I drew the curtains on the patio so we could jump in naked!” the blond added excitedly.

Noct jumped up a little and Ignis could tell he was smiling. “Nice one buddy!”

“So we ready?” Gladio asked as he leaned over to shut the water off. “We’ve got an omega to cuddle.”

Despite having his eyes closed Ignis rolled them for good measure. Reluctantly pulling away from his prince Ignis barely had time to react when Gladio swept him up off his feet and headed out of the bathroom. “Gladio! You’re still wet!”

“Yeah and what’s the point of drying off when we’ll be jumping in the hot tub?”

“The floor is getting dripped on!” Ignis whined pitifully. Though truthfully it didn’t matter, the floors were all tile and they were all clean.  His only worry was Gladio slipping but he’d already made it out onto the patio and was climbing up over the edge and into the blissfully hot water. Six, Ignis needed this.  

“Hey big guy you gonna share?” Prompto asked as he joined them and waded over to sit next to their alpha.

“I think we should all get turns holding Iggy,” Noct supplied as he climbed in and immediately ducked his head under the water. Coming up a second later he floated closer and wedged himself in between Gladio’s legs and wrapped his arms around Ignis’ waist.  

It didn’t take long and Ignis could feel himself drifting off. Gladio was still cradling him like a baby which didn’t help matters. He always fell asleep when Gladio held him. His remaining waking moments kept occurring when he’d get passed off to one of his mates. First he awoke to Noct hugging him and rubbing all over his scent gland. Unable to keep from giggling, as it tickled, Ignis turned his head and went back to relaxing.

He somehow missed getting out of the hot tub, and his next waking moment was Prompto pulling him close in their stupidly large bed.  Returning the gesture, Ignis hugged his beta tightly. He felt warm and his mind was finally at ease over the evenings events. The hot tub had done the trick, releasing all the tension from his aching muscles.

“Sleep, you’re safe,” Gladio whispered from nearby as the bed dipped.  Soon a strong arm was wrapped around his midsection.

“Wh’s Noct?” Ignis managed as he tried to see in the dark.

“M’here,” came the muffled reply.

Ignis realized that both of his alphas were on the outside edge of the bed. Gladio was behind him and Noct was spooning Prompto. Smiling at the protective behavior Ignis let his mind shut down. Sleep claimed him almost immediately after that. There was nothing left to fret about, he was safe.  

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Happy Thoughts || Mike x Powered!Reader

Requested: "hi, can you do an imagine where Mike gets hurt (because of Billy in season three) and Eleven gets taken by Billy and max is unconscious and the reader wakes up and rushed to Mike's side and heals him with her powers and he wakes up and they're relieved to see each other but they need to save eleven? i know this is a lot to ask but i hope you can do it 🥺"

A/n: Jesus christ, this took a long time to finish, I am truly sorry about that but sometimes it's just hard my dude. It's here now and I hope you enjoy it! Also yes, I borrowed from Finding Nemo, please don't come for me.

Warnings: mentions of blood, and this ain't really a warning but I sprinkled in some Elmax cause I think that shit is cute

Pain was the first thing you felt as you came to. A blinding, throbbing ache deep inside your skull from where you were struck. You try to remember where you are, get some sort of semblance of where you were. The ground was hard and chilled and you could swear you heard buzzing from some faulty bulb somewhere. That's when it all starts coming back to you. Starcourt Mall, running from the mind flayer, and Billy. Everything.

You forced your eyes to open, even if it brought more unwanted pain in your head. Sure enough, the lights were still flickering, but they slowly started to even out. With a grunt, you managed to pull yourself up, your sweaty skin sticking to the vinyl tiles. It takes a moment for you to blink away the blurriness in your vision, but when everything clears, you realize all too late just how bad everything is.

Mike, he's across the room out cold. And bleeding. Your stomach flips, heart plummeting, and hoping it's not as bad as it seems.

"Damn it," you groan, shuffling across the floor as fast and painlessly as you can to get to him. "Mike? Mike! Wake up!"

Your hands meet his paled face and as gently as you can you turn his head, only to find his hair sticking to the corner of his forehead and you wince. You realize now why your palms have grown sticky and you feel your stomach flip.

"Shit,"

You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for what you had to do. Your eyes flutter closed, and soon your mind was filled with warm memories. It was a bit easier this time around considering the environment. Sure it wasn't ideal, but it beat having whatever crazy new threat you and friends might have in the room with you. But again, healing someone was always stressful regardless, especially if it was someone important to you.

Which is exactly why you had to focus, and quick. He was losing a lot of blood, he must have put up quite a fight considering the damage.

Another quick and deep breath left your lungs and your hand came to center directly over his wound. Almost like a Rolodex, your best memories dance across your mind and you gladly accept the warmth it brings you.

Most of them, you've been noticing, involve Mike. Mostly little moments, but bring you great happiness and already you can feel a warmth spreading from your chest to your palms.

Racing with your friends last summer. Will had brought up the fact that, technically, Dustin still owed him a comic book. And that quickly snowballed into another race for more comic books that everyone took part in. In the end, it all came down to you and Mike.

"On my mark," Dustin declares.

One foot on the pedal, ready to take off in a moment's notice, you glanced to your left to see Mike doing the same.

Feeling a rush of confidence, you quirked a brow. "You hungry, Wheeler?"

"What?" Mike did a double-take, obviously confused though he was quick to dismiss it. "Hungry?"

"Get set,"

"Yeah," You repeated with a sly smile. "Cause you're about to eat my dirt,"

His face scrunched up once more, his mouth falling into a small 'o' as he tried to form a response.

"Go!"

A bright chuckle left your lungs and your legs had kicked into gear. The last thing you saw before you sped off was the precious look on his face. It was a delightful mix of offense and shock that quickly turned into a smile. You heard the sounds of his bike chains approaching followed by a low rumble in his chest as he let a hearty laugh.

"Hey! Get back here, L/n!"

You could feel the familiar tingle on your palms that felt as if your nerves were dancing. It was working.

Your mind jumps to another memory. One you could not believe you hadn't thought of earlier that had taken place only weeks before everything had gone south.

"You awake?"

You wade against the tides of sleep, trying your best to keep your eyelids open. The last remaining rays of dusk streaming through the high windows had faded out long ago, bathing Mike's basement in darkness. The only remaining source of light came from the small television across the room that you and your friends had camped out in front of. From your heavy cocoon of blankets on the couch, you lazily rolled your head to the side to look at Mike.

He was buried under a plethora of knitted blankets as well, and he was looking at you softly.

You nodded groggily and blinked heavily before putting on a weak smile. "Barely,"

Mike responses with a yawn, nodding his head briefly before picking it up and readjusting it on the couch so he was looking at you properly. The ends of his slip rise into a small smile at his unintended timing. The two of you share a smile.

Your head rolls around once more, but only so you can get a look at your friends around you. Long ago, El had passed out beside you, and she now lay unconscious on your lap. Her arm was draped in front of her, and on top of Max's shoulder. As for Max, her head was beginning to slip and now rested against El's hand. You had to strain a bit to see Will who was on the floor next to Max, cuddled up in his a blanket of his own using Lucas's legs as a pillow. Dustin had nested on top of the couch and against the wall, but you didn't need to look at him to know he was passed out as well given how much he was snoring.

You looked back at Mike once more, and two of you share a look of amusement at your friends. Particularly Lucas, who is fast asleep directly in between you two, his body as slid down the couch to a point you fear he might fall off.

"Y/n?" Mike whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I'm," he pauses, and you can almost see him casting away any nervous hesitation. "I'm glad you suggested this,"

You nodded in agreement, your chest growing warm as his eyes remained on yours.

"and, I'm glad you're here."

The warmth in your chest grew into a kindled fire, your heart thumping with every flicker while your stomach became occupied with butterflies. You smiled back at him, and you could feel the sleep pulling at you grow a little weaker.

"Me too," you mumbled, keeping your gaze locked on to his. "This is nice,"

His smile grew into a grin, and for one brief second you feared you had mistaken as a trick of the light, you thought you saw his eyes flicker to your lips. Your smile simmered away at your growing nerves, but you couldn't deny the exciting feeling of it all. You wondered how long you could go before your heart inevitably burst, but your question was answered just as soon as it was asked with a sudden and loud noise pierced the air.

Lucas' sleeping form came to life in a matter of seconds as his sudden burst of snores rocketed his head backwards into the couch nearly hitting your noses. The two of you freeze, not realizing until this moment that you had been inching forward, and watch as Lucas wakes briefly. His eyes flicker open before he rubs them sleepily and promptly passes back out against the couch.

Once you two are sure he is asleep, your eyes meet with Mike's, and all previous nerves are buried in your uncontrollable hushed laughter. The two of you snicker, though you try to silence it by burying your mouth into the edge of your blankets while Mike throws his head back at the ceiling and his hand clutched over his mouth, shoulders shaking.

Your laughs are mostly noiseless and ended up lasting long into the night before the two you promptly fell asleep against each other over Lucas.

Your mind flickers to countless other memories but in the back of your mind, you can't seem to shake the image of Mike and you on his couch that night. Not just the unspoken thing between you two but also the undying fits of laughter thereafter. Together overall, what you felt in these moments with Mike, and even now as you held his face in your palms you felt general warmth when he was around.

You take another deep breath and all this warmth and spreads from your heart to your palms and paints his forehead. You're eyes flutter open, and you try your best to fight the lightheadedness beginning to fog your brain and the heaviness of your limbs. You grimace as you remember where you are, but you do not dwell on this for long. Instead, your eyes fall to the boy on the floor.

His head is still painted his blood but the gash has faded to nothing but a thin white line. You hear a breath of relief escape your lungs and shakily you gently brush the hair from his eyes.

"Mike?" You croak. "Mike, come on,"

You fear you are too late, and in your rising panic you pick his head up once more and look for any more gashes you might have missed when suddenly you notice his eyes begin to flutter. A groan leaves his lips and he peels his eyes open, wincing at the harsh light.

"Y/n?"

"Mike!" You laugh in overwhelming relief and you smile down at him. "You scared the shit out of me, I thought- I thought..."

Your eyes begin to water and his began to adjust to the light. He looked around at the room.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he tried moving his head, and hesitantly you released your gentle hold on his face. "W-what happened?"

You sniffled and stuck your hand out for him to take and helped him to sit up. You shook your head.

"Billy found us," you shook your head in disbelief and fear, and helped him to his feet, a confused frown molding onto your face. "I don't remember much after that,"

You looked around the room and your stomach flipped when you noticed it had begun to spin. You shuffled on your feet aa your balance begins to weaken and that's when you feel a gentle hand on your back. You looked back at Mike to find him watching you worriedly. His eyes fall to your upper lip, this time in worry and seeing the blood dripping from your nose he realizes what the problem is.

The expression on his face changes subtly many times as if he didn't know what to say first. He settles into a look of genuine concern and it's then you realize his hand has yet to leave your back.

"Are you okay?" He asks finally.

You nod, and your nose involuntary twitches as you feel the blood continue to trickle down your lip, tickling your nerves. You wipe away the blood and plaster on a weak smile.

"Yeah, thanks. Just takes a lot out of me sometimes,"

"Thanks," he mumbles.

You nod once more, and you look around the room, finally addressing the dread that had been plaguing you since you woke. You gasp suddenly when you see another pair of pale legs, painted with scrapes and brushes peeking around the corner from the hallway.

You ran forward, pushing past your wobbling knees and dropped to the floor beside Max. Mike was quick to follow, his expression of worry matched yours completely when he saw her and you felt a surge of guilt for not spotting her earlier in your frightful state over Mike. Though this evaporates for the most part when you realize she does not seem to have any critical injuries like Mike had.

Grabbing her shoulders you begin to shake her gently. Mike leans over your shoulder and lays a hand on her arm and begins to shake her awake as well.

"Max?" He calls.

She does not respond, only shifts around as you two try to shake her from sleep. You look fearfully into Mike's eyes before looking around the room trying to collect yourself and stifle any climbing panic. That's when another heavy weight falls on your shoulders when you realize you three are the only ones in sight.

"Mike? Where's El?"

His eyes widen, and he looks around for a brief second and you know he is experiencing the same fear as you croak when it dawns on you.

"Billy,"

You take a deep breath, your hands beginning to sweat and it mixes with the remanents of Mike's blood that still stains your hands. You turn frantically back to Max, now even more desperate to wake her, something you hadn't previously thought possible. You shake her once more, your voice rising in panic.

"Max? Max come on, please wake up! Max, we need-"

She groans, brow furrowing and seeming to experience what both you and Mike had just experienced. She squinted against the harsh light and you felt a completely different kind of pit form in your stomach knowing what you had to tell her.

"Max, we need to leave-" your voice grew hoarse as you continued. "Billy, he... Billy took her. El, she's gone, we need to go help her,"

Her eyes shoot open before blinking rapidly, still not fully adjusted to the light. Nevertheless, her actions are already more urgent and she struggles to sit up. Her face flushed with worry.

"What?"

"Come on," Mike says, and the two of you offer your hands to her. "Let's go get her back."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As promised, here are a list of resources I encourage you to explore

Want to register to vote but you're not old enough? You just might be old enough to pre-register! This link will lead you to the official list of states and the earliest age at which you can pre/register: [x]

Below will be a link to a masterlist of ways and a variety of resources that help the Black Lives Matter movement, including petitions that are completely free to sign: [x]

And here is a masterlist of black mental health resources. Please know I care about you and I hope that you are getting the resources you need to take good care of yourselves. This might be something you know about and/or have seen already. On the off chance it's not, I hope it can be of use to you: [x]

[johndaltcn]

WANTED IN THE STATE OF NEW YORK: TAYLOR DANVERS or A DAY IN THE LIFE OF MISSING HER.

Drowning. John could think of worse ways to die. A car accident where you hurl out of the windshield like a ragdoll, some form of cancer, being beaten to death, a gas leak, poison. The list was seemingly endless. John could have conjured new ideas with each breath, with each turn of his head, which each greeting. He’d be sitting opposite a middle-aged man with a greying beard and a beer belly who needed a new motor for his boat and, suddenly, dying of old age alone in your bedroom. Though, there was still drowning in the ocean. Perhaps he would have eventually given up the good fight when he was out there for too long. He’d wade into the eerie quiet of the sea. On days where the list feels useless, he imagines Taylor doing just that. A product of her surroundings, growing gills and a tail like they do in the movies. She’d be blue but shiny like a wet marble. Her arms would be spread and she’d be smiling up at the blue, blue sky and quietly go the way the world wanted. The way she wanted.

Waves. An interruption to a dream about a man stranded on an island. John stirs under his duvet, light from his window peeking through the heavy fabric of his curtains. The man eats a coconut with one hand and draws shapes in the sand with another. First, he draws a circle and then turns it into a smiley face. Next came a hard penis and then an ocean wave. A lonely, makeshift masterpiece.

As the sun comes up, the room becomes brighter, earning the sun to rise in his dreamscape. It looms just along the horizon, casting a glimmer of white and pale blue across the darkened sea. The edges look transparent paired with the white foam that laps against the sand. His toes dig hastily into the warmth there before the cool of the ocean comes running up his hairy ankles.

This was a nice dream. For now. A miracle. The man wanders around with a smile. He is alone but he is satisfied. No burdens have followed him to his little island. He may starve one day and become a mummy in the sand. Rich people in need of normalcy will arrive one day and find his skeleton perched against a palm tree. Inside his hands will hold a now withered, torn note that says I loved it here.

Dying alone stranded on an island. A piece of John’s brain leaves a reminder to write that down on his list of ways to die.

The man wakes once again after another island sleep, stretching his limbs with a hearty groan. The sun comes up just the same. Glimmering, warm. Today, there was a grey cloud somewhere in the East. Light eyes look to it with confusion. How dare the weather interrupt his state of mind. His shoulders frump like a disturbed toddler, padding across the sand and into the wild jungle where the leaves hung low and sweat became his best friend.

He walks and walks. He’s not sure why. Perhaps he was looking for an answer or someone to scold. The weather was sickeningly humid, the kind that makes every inch of you damp and slick. John could smell his own skin in his sleep. His own sweat too.

The man follows a path down a long line of dirt and sand. He reaches the other end of the island which is much more bleak. The clouds hang low and are a muggy shade of black and grey. The ocean is almost green like moss. It doesn’t lick the shore like the other end. No, it clings to it. It’s thickened over time, probably from oil and other grimes that he couldn’t name in this moment. To his right, he hears a strange sound. A wet but also dry sound that makes the hairs on his arms prick and rise. He looks, there’s a fish. It’s dying, moving around, and gasping for air. His throat tightens. Is it food or a test? He looks to the sky for an answer, perhaps from God, but it only darkens. He was very hungry and a nice, dying fish over a fire sounded like a blessing. But, by some impulse, he scoops the slimy thing up in his shaky hands and goes running through the thick jungle once more. He scrapes his arms and legs on branches as he runs and runs. The beat of his own heart becomes loud like a speaker on high. His breathing is jagged and he begins to squeak with each breath.

Once his slice of heaven comes into view once more, he dashes to the water. His perfect water with all the blues and whites. When he’s close enough, he places the squirming fish into the water. It flops around uselessly. John thinks he might have been dreaming about the stupidest fish in history. It flies right out of the water and onto the sand again.

Did this damn thing wish to die?

With that, he scoops it up again and basically tosses it into the water. “I’m trying to save you!” He yells though his words come out muffled. It sounded like his throat had been piled to the brim with cotton balls.

Then he turns, only to find that the shore had been covered in dead fish. Most of them squirmed and jumped along the sand, bouncing off one another helplessly. The sound was atrocious, like someone chewing loudly in his ear or rubbing their thighs against a wet sheet of marble.

It grows louder, the sound of dead fish and now gawking seagulls falling from the sky. They were hungry for fish but are too ambitious in their endeavor to feed. They crash land to the island and accompany the still dying fish. They’re dying now too. The sound becomes louder and louder and louder. The waves sound like nails brushing together. Rusty ones that have been since forgotten inside someone’s garage.

The man covers his ears and screams. He screams his cotton ball scream and wishes to go home to the mainland. There’s a rotted human hand poking out of the sand just at his feet before John wakes up, gasping for air.

Like in the movies, he hoists himself out of his bed upon waking up. His sweaty back presses carefully into the headboard once he comes to. He was alive, awake, and dry. Well, almost. A hand reaches up brush strands of hair that stick to his forehead. John swallows hard, breathing heavily for a few moments. Mostly to collect himself. It was often that he had nightmares like this. Though they were all different in certain ways, they did all have one thing in common. Water. Sea. John has come to accept that this was the price he had to pay for knowing and missing Taylor Danvers. It might have been the price of loving her too.

The covers are thrown from his body then, draping down and across his bed. The bottoms of his feet move to touch the cold hardwood of his bedroom which grounds him. You’re alive, John. Light that pokes from behind his curtains moves across the floor, creating a line from the window and to under his bed where most of Taylor’s things were stored. He could have easily stuffed them in a box within the back of his closet but something about that made John uneasy. Embarrassed, even. To him, it seemed like such a cliché and John was already coasting the line of borderline cliché these days. The nightmares were enough.

Once the sleep was rubbed from his eyes, John heads to his kitchen to make himself some coffee. He checks the digital clock above his stove. The bright green numbers read 8:12AM. 

At least it was early. At least he hasn’t become like his father, waking up late in the afternoon and still drunk from the evening before. The smell of coffee begins to envelop his home as he opens the creaky cabinet above his head in search of a mug. He plucks one with a decorative J on the front, a lackluster birthday gift his mother had sent him one year. She was a month early but he appreciated the sentiment regardless. Sometimes anything was better than nothing from Jennifer Dalton.

While he continues to wait for the pot to brew, he pictures Taylor dancing around the kitchen in her underwear. She did that almost every day, making a mess in the kitchen as she attempted to make both pancakes and scrambled eggs at the same time. How she made a mess of something so simple, John would never know, but he had always found that endearing. Her dark, smooth hair was always thrown up in a bun at the top of her small head. Her eyes were wide and muddy brown like a cartoon lamb. She would kiss his cheek and say he looked “positively handsome” each morning and then slide him a steaming cup with his beverage of choice.

The memory makes him purse his lips into a tight line as he picks up the pot and pours the coffee into his mug. Though he can never quite combat his thoughts. A specific memory comes to mind as he moves to sit at the marble island in his kitchen.

....

Rain tapped along the large windows inside his living room. His home is Dallas was large but comfortable, something out of an interior design magazine you’d find in a doctor’s office. Taylor had been reading a book, cuddled underneath an old blanket of John’s. Taylor made a habit of staying the night after a while and John didn’t mind. He enjoyed her company. He had slid beside her, removing the book from her lap and placing it carefully on the coffee table. A wide, beaming smile graced her expression in no time. She ran her fingers through his dark beard. John had started to ask about her family. He thought maybe they could spend a Christmas or a Thanksgiving with them sometime. At the mention of family, Taylor’s expression fell. He knew that look, it was always the look she sported when something or someone made her uncomfortable. 

“My family is disgusting,” She said through gritted teeth, scanning John’s expression as if he should have known that much. He only shook his head, feeling guilty. “Oh,” Is what he started with, a little lost for words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Taylor then went on about how her sister was a backstabbing bitch and that her mother was a liar and her father just the same. Apparently they had disowned her, cast her out like some unwanted puppy. The idea not only confused John but also baffled him. She was so intelligent, so willing, so creative. He couldn’t imagine what had happened to make something like this happen. To make her family dislike her with such vigor. 

“Well, what happened?” John asked then, head canting to the side. He had to know. By then, John had told her everything. About her mother and her bloated lips, injected hips, and much younger boyfriends. His father and his proclivity for drinking himself into a haze. And, then, his sister, a Jennifer Dalton wannabe with manicured fingernails and a voice that sounded so feminine and so grainy that it made you want to rip your ears right from your head. 

That’s when Taylor’s own brows knit together, a look of anger flashing across her face like a stroke of lightning. Had he said something wrong? Was he not meant to ask? John can vividly remember the feeling of panic that had washed over him in an instant. He could still feel it now like he was reliving the moment. 

She had grabbed his arm. Tight. Her much smaller fingers left a reddened imprint on his skin there. “Do not ask me about my family. Ever. I’m here with you now, John,” She cooed, releasing his arm then to stroke the sides of his face, “Nothing else matters but me and you. I want to forget them.”

At the time, that seemed fair enough. John had done so much to forget his own family, as well, especially once he moved away and his parents got divorced. Who was he to judge her or her reaction? He’d learn more about her past eventually. Someday. Perhaps this was how love worked. You had to fight for it and you had to deal with the pretty and all the ugly too. He remembers reading that somewhere. But he also might have heard it come from Jennifer’s mouth.

....

Back to the present, back to reality. Looking back, he should have known. Even then. The truth of the situation was that Taylor’s family had endlessly tried to have her arrested. For many things, actually. Theft, stalking, assault, battery, and more. She had once broken a Coke bottle and threatened to stab her sister and her boyfriend with it before running off to wherever it is she went. She always did that, apparently. Ran away, even as a child. After her death, John had taken a detour to Long Island, where she was from. It was a brief visit though her family was willing to tell John just what he needed to know. 

Taylor was troubled, unsettling, and not the greatest person in the world. Not by a long shot. She stole and mostly survived, never really living. Apparently, they had a grandmother like this too who died of something that John can’t remember. All he remembers is something about alcohol being involved.

Meeting Taylor’s family, for some reason, made it easier to make up scenarios or reasons why. To this day, he does regret seeking out the truth. He wished he would have let it remain a mystery, an unknown woman coming into his life who made him fall in love but then died in the process. That sounded much better than discovering that Taylor Danvers was an unstable woman who had no true moral compass. 

But, she was exactly that. As time went on, John began to see her as a lonely woman rather than a bad one. He started to look for excuses that, soon enough, formed into a ball of guilt. Perhaps she was depressed, maybe her family wasn’t telling the truth, maybe she needed a friend, maybe she lied about stalking, maybe something happened to her when she was young, maybe this, maybe that, maybe anything.

An alarm sounding through John’s home rips him from his thoughts. He sets his mug down and races back to the kitchen. He doesn’t know when he wandered into his living room. This usually happened when John’s thoughts went too deep, when he spiraled. A pan of scrambled eggs were burning on the stove. John didn’t even remember putting them up. With a shaky hand, he shuts off the stove and tosses the pan into the sink, running it under cold water. He grabs a dishtowel and fans the place and then his smoke alarm until it stops beeping.

Burning to death in a housefire. He mentally writes that down, adding it to his long list of excuses.

[starkerforlife6969]

Tony Stark’s Home for Wayward Monsters

irondad and spiderson fluff

Tony’s life isn’t normal. He’s always known that. Hell, he’s Ironman. He’s been to outer space. Seen planets, defeated monsters, and when his own little boy gets bitten by a radioactive spider, honestly-

It’s all part and parcel of his life.

Peter Stark is the cutest little six year old in the world, as far as Tony and the other avengers are concerned. He’s so tiny, with the chubbiest cheeks and angelic chestnut curls and he bounces around and climbs up ceilings and makes little web-hammocks in the corner of rooms and often scares the life out of his old man by poking his little head down from the ceiling and Tony jumps so hard he nearly breaks his leg.

Peter is also the sweetest thing in the world. He’s such a good kid. Kind to a fault, and Tony would destroy everyone if Peter so much as grazed his knee.

Peter eats all his vegetables and gets excited by homework and is patient and adoring when watching Tony in lab- all big deer eyes and enthusiastically asking if he can have a go with the radioactive goo now, please daddy?

Natasha strolls in after picking Peter up from kindergarten one sunny afternoon, and Tony sips his coffee, frowning at the look on her face. She looks happy. That’s never a great sign-

And then Peter walks in-

He’s got a gigantic husky in his arms. The dog is bigger than him, seriously- but Peter’s strength- Christ- and that dog is all teeth and scabbed fur and-

“Daddy! Daddy! Look, Auntie Nat and I found a puppy!” says the big ball of fur with legs.

Tony stands, immediately wanting to yank Peter away from the dangerous canine, but the husky is apparently very content to be petted as Peter sets him down and then throws his arms around him in a bear hug.

The husky hooks its giant head over Peter’s shoulder- surrounding the boy- and bares his teeth as if Peter’s his young and Tony is the threat when-

Natasha takes pity on him, and hoists Peter easily out of the dog’s hold, and into Tony’s arms.

Peter giggles delightedly- dog fur all over his clothes. “Can we, daddy? Please! Please, please! I’ll look after him, I promise!” And his eyes are so wide and so earnest and-

Tony can’t say no.

***

But he taught his son a lesson that day. He taught his son that scared things, with too many teeth and not enough love, are to be brought up to the penthouse for their new home.

Peter, not two weeks later, comes in with Bruce (who was on pick up duty today, not like it’s a chore, though) and a man smeared with dirt and one very shiny metal arm.

“Daddy!” Peter announces proudly, “this is Bucky!”, and he tugs ‘Bucky’ (who looks so terrifyingly like an assassin that Tony briefly considers suiting up) into the penthouse.

Bruce looks utterly dazed.

Bucky looks frightened.

Ginger- the ferocious, but in actuality adorable, husky, rushes over to lick Peter’s face, and then nuzzle like a cat between Bucky’s legs.

Bucky relaxes, just a little, and pets the dog’s head.

“He was lost, daddy! And he doesn’t have a home!” His little face looks utterly-heart broken, and Tony stares in disbelief.

“I…” Bucky shakes his head, and tries to gently extract his fingers from Peter’s little hands, and looks very confused when the grip doesn’t come away. “I…He found me- I was- in an alley, and he said- something about-“

“A feeling,” Tony sighs. Peter’s ‘spider-sense’. A sort of extra-sense that tells him when something wrong is happening close by. “Listen, Peter- I’m sure Bucky here has-“

“Nowhere to go.” Peter pouts firmly, looking up at Tony with wide-eyes that glimmer with betrayal. “We’re gonna…he’s staying, right daddy?” He whispers, and Tony looks down at his little boy and-

Gives Bucky a guest room.

Just for the night.

***

Three weeks later, Bucky - the winter soldier- is firmly a part of the family. He takes Ginger for walks and has nightmares which make him stay up late at night with Tony in the lab, talking in hushed tones about Hydra, and giving information that’s vital- incredibly vital- to tracking down the last remnants of them.

Steve had taken one look at him and Tony had groaned.

Steve’s eyes had gone immensely blue and his jaw had dropped and Bucky had blushed and-

Tony had pinched the bridge of his nose and poured more coffee, before making Peter another blueberry pancake.

*** Peter is a few days before his seventh birthday, when he comes home with an astounded Clint, and a man with long black hair and angry-defiance in his eyes.

Peter is also dragging a huge hammer in his free hand.

It’s leaving a dent in the floor.

Tony stares.

And then sighs.

So Loki is a god, who Peter and Clint had stumbled across on their way home (maybe Tony should switch Peter’s school) and found Loki crying and trying to lift this hammer.

Peter had thought he’d needed help- and lifted it in one easy motion and now-

His seven year old is heir to the throne of a planet he’s never heard of.

“Cool,” Clint grins, ruffling Peter’s curls as Loki sulks in the corner, “make me a Duke or something, yeah, Petey?”

Peter shakes his head solemnly. “That would be abusing my powers.”

Tony can’t help it- he laughs. But he waggles a stern finger at Loki. “We are not keeping him.”

Loki gapes indignantly. Peter scrunches up his tiny nose in confusion. “But he’s hurt- and we…we help people when they’re sad and lost, don’t we, daddy?”

Bucky doesn’t meet Tony’s eyes, and Tony sighs.

*** It turns out though, Loki only stays for a few months.

And it’s a shame, really, because- goddamnit, the snooty prince was starting to grow on Tony.

Loki could conjure allusions- beautiful and intricate- and had spent a great many hours showing Peter little stories in the air- looking pleased at Peter’s effusive praise over Loki’s talents.

Loki could shape-shift- into anything- but mostly a pretty pony that Peter would ride around the penthouse.

Although, Loki sometimes stared at Tony’s arc-reactor for a touch too long, like he wanted to steal it and its power-

But then Peter would ask for some hot chocolate and tug on the end of Loki’s green robes and-

The god would settle back down.

But then in a hail of thunder and lighting, there’s another god landing in his living room- yelling with joy over having found his brother and his hammer and the new heir to the throne-

And Tony finds himself with the newest member of the avengers.

*** Bucky’s packing to move in with Steve when Peter’s eleven.

Tony muses over how different the penthouse will be without him-

And that’s when Peter comes home with a homeless man.

“He’s not homeless, dad,” Peter rolls his eyes, dragging in the sweaty wreck of a human being in behind him, “he’s got a symbiote.”

“It’s a parasite!” The man chokes desperately, looking like he’d love to run out, but his limbs keep jerkily propelling him forward. “A parasite!”

“Don’t call Venom that!” Peter scolds, reaching out his hand to pat some black goo on Eddie’s arm. “He’s much more than a parasite.”

“Yes, little spider,” croons a hissing voice that Tony- Tony cannot be dealing with this shit right now. “The spider understands. The spider would make a good host. But not better than you, our dearest Eddie-“

Tony hoists Peter up into his arms, settling him on his hip and shaking his head at Eddie (who he’s starting to recognise as that reporter who went missing) and saying firmly: “Ground rule: No using my son as a host.”

Eddie scrubs his face deliriously, and Venom asks for chocolate.

***

On Halloween night, Eddie comes back complaining about the taste of blood in the back of his throat, but his arms are cradled protectively around Peter who’s cuddled into his chest- supported by a tangled mass of black lines.

Tony looks up from his work and jerks to his feet- rushing over to his son.

“Some dude- tried to grab him.” Eddie whispers, and Peter is still crying a little, and Tony holds him tight- heart pounding. “We- I- We- we ate him.” Eddie mumbles. “Sorry.”

Tony decides right then and there, that Eddie might be his favourite... monster?Stray?

Tony spends the whole night eating chocolate with his son, praising him, telling him how kind and good and amazingly brave he is, and Ginger snuffles into Peter’s neck until the boy starts smiling again- wobbly and cautious.

Thor and Loki visit as soon as they realise what’s happened.

They bring a ship full of Asgardian gold.

Bucky comes too- and tells Peter about nightmares and how to make them go away.

Tony thinks there might be a thing to having a home for Wayward….monsters? Strays? Alien-people?

*** When Peter’s sixteen, he brings home a stray in the form of a boyfriend, and Tony is saying no before they’re even introduced.

“Dad,” Peter grins, rocking on his heels excitedly. “This is Wade-“

“No.” Tony says, but he has a horrifying feeling he’s already lost, because Wade is smiling like he won the lottery and- “No.” Tony says again, horrified.

Maybe he will send Peter to be the Asgardian King after all.

At least there won’t be any Wade Wilsons in space.

(Tony says yes, 6 years later, when Wade asks for permission for Peter’s hand. He also blasts him right in the chest with his gauntlet and Wade lets out a little ‘oof’. “You treat him right.” Tony says, though he’s said it before, and Wade has never ever treated Peter wrong. “It’s not just me who’ll destroy you- there are-“

“I get it, I get it. A whole universe of people on Pete’s side. Damn, your son’s really good at making alliances. You know he met some woman the other day? We were walking along and he got this feeling, so we went over to an old blockbusters and this woman named Carol was-“

“No.” Tony says, walking away. “No.”)

[blankdblank]

Next Caller Pt 12

…

“I don’t know..” that was the reason Thorin gave for showing up at your house before your radio shift. Fully dressed up post shower all you had to do was grab your bag and lock the door behind you accepting the to go mug of cider. It wasn’t even raining, a perfectly cool morning he offered you a drive to work and small talked about what Roac had claimed the weather would be like, none of which giving reason to show up offering a ride.

All the same a wave and a promise to see you later was given and collectively a deep exhale was given in your parting off to your respective shifts. Smirking from the front entrance where she was waiting, Mal asked, “Was that Thorin?”

“Yup.” Taking a sip of your drink still reeling from the sudden company.

Your puzzled expression had her turn to join you for the walk to the lift with BamBam in her bag napping after his morning bottle. “And? I assume that meant he might have spent the night?”

“What? No. He just showed up. Brought me this, even said he didn’t know why he came to offer me a ride.”

Mal’s lips pursed a moment, “Well maybe he was here to catch a glimpse of the fabled Bunny.” You rolled your eyes and from her pocket she passed you a card your brows furrowed looking over. “Dain gave me this. Apparently his cousin Gorgo and him have been looking for Miss Bunny for five years now about a book? I mean I know about the show, but a whole book?”

Smirking at her weakly you replied, “I wrote a series. Spent a lot of years on my own daydreaming, but nobody ever took any interest in it just ignored it. I just sent it to the one company and got a letter of rejection from every Elven publisher out there, all 247 of them. Only sent the draft to the Durins for clearance on their name, knew they would ask for it. He seriously said they’d been looking all this time?”

The worry in your eyes evident making Mal pat your shoulder fondly to calm you, “Gorgo had, apparently Dain just got involved when the show started. But Gorgo has been digging and fuming for years it seems.”

“Gorgo, I think Gloin, my realtor is her husband. Makes sense they kept saying we’d get along.”

Mal chuckled, “Well you’re going to love this next part. The guys think you and I work with Bunny.”

“With?” Your brow inched up and she nodded, “My name means Bunny, I have a bunny tattooed on my foot, my old neighbors called me the Bun, I mean-,”

Mal chuckled slinging an arm around your back, “Our Darling Durin boys. Either way, you’ll give her a call?”

“I’ll probably give it to Ecthellion, he’s been the one trying to work my book deals. That way it can be official and he can sniff out all the details for me.”

“Good idea.” After a pause for you to wait for the booths to empty from the show before yours she asked, “How big a book is it?”

“Well the first is just over 2000 pages.”

“Two-!” Her voice cut out when she realized how loudly she’d said it and she whispered, “2000?”

You nodded, “Been working on it a very long time.”

No kidding.” Across her lips a smirk eased and she asked, “About Thorin-,”

“I have no clue.” Making her giggle to herself in your sip, “I get one cup of tea and now I’m halfway drowning in Durins.”

“Barely two weeks and they love you.”

“I mean this in the best way possible, but they’re almost like the furniture in Beauty & the Beast in Prince Adam’s castle. Like I’m the first person they’ve seen outside the clan in decades.”

“Fitting comparison, because they also want you to cuddle up to a giant furry grump of a cinnamon roll.” With a sigh you smoothed a hand through your hair hanging around your back and shoulders and she asked, “You ok?”

“Just tired, kept waking up. Triple checked my locks and found out the clicking I heard was my roomba maneuvering around a door stopper. So odd being in a house alone.”

“I’m sure your grump wouldn’t mind coming to protect you from the clicks in the night.” She said with a giggle.

“You laugh but I’ll have you know waking up with a colony of crabs climbing into your hut is terrifying and that was the same click. Painful little things.” In a glance up at her you caught her concerned stare and shook your head, “I’m fine, doesn’t happen often, just, things do pop up from time to time, maybe I’ll put one of those stick barriers down around it on the floor so the roomba won’t hit it.”

“Who thought such adorable things could be so unsettling in the dark.” At that you let out a soft giggle and she sighed, “I wish I had a roomba. But Mao would no doubt hate it.”

“He would no doubt lie on top of it and hover across your apartment, and you know it. Probably time it to get to his food at meal times so he doesn’t have to walk.” Making her chuckle with you as you watched the group in the booth packing up at their signature sign offs. A note from you however had Ecthellion on his way to a meeting nodding after your show grinning to himself at what you had written to share with him as to what you had been told.

.

Mal on your way down again asked, “Off to see Thorin dear?”

Giggling to yourself you replied, “Promised to check in with Bilbo first though.”

“Ooh, how is it feeling?”

“Good, not itchy anymore, I think I did good taking care of it.”

“Well just think, right in time for the warmer end of spring so you can show it all off in a bikini.”

You rolled your eyes, “I haven’t been swimming in three centuries. Never even owned a bikini.”

Mal smirked, “Then we’ll just have to buy you one. Boys keep talking about their family home, with a pool.”

“I highly doubt-,”

“Oh you’re coming, no telling how Thorin would mope and pout seeing me there and no you.”

“Enjoy your lunch with the boys. I’m off to be ogled and showed the art of the brew.”

Checking her phone she turned to meet her beaus before visiting Dain and you turned to head for the tattoo parlor. It didn’t take long and with a grin Bilbo inspected your arm under the uv light allowing you a fully mirrored view of the final effect back in the private room. Pulling your flannel back on over your partially sheer polka dot coated tank top you were off as he answered Frodo’s call wishing you a lovely rest of your day. Smirking to himself wondering what Thorin would get into after hearing about his early drop by your home to drive you into the station and his brooding self afterwards at the shop.

Almost as if you had taken hours the now bustling shop gave you the hint that your usual calm place to relax was now the hot spot. From behind the counter you caught Dwalin’s eye and his point to your usual hop requiring table as a sign to just sit and they would bring you your drink. Wading through the departing people discarding their used mugs into the wash bins on the counter by the door you found a way to your table and hopped up easing your book out of your bag flinching your eyes from Thorin. A tempting slide of a Dam’s hand up his forearm drew you back to a focus away from the Dwarf locked in a flirting triangle of women.

You should have given terrible reviews was your first thought, one you quickly squashed but all the same had you not given such raving reviews there wouldn’t now be women realizing your grump was appealing and amazing and well in need of a good blush across his cheeks to accent hose stunning eyes of his. Just as if you were slapped you recoiled tucking your feet up into the foot rest on the stool and burrowed back into your planning.

Each room with items listed, some still not detailed as to which style or appearance you would want but listed all the same to choose later. Beside them estimated price ranges. Not essentially told he wasn’t interested you ignored the painful thought of just being the friend and pitied party once again. It wouldn’t be new to be seen as not worth the while with all your emotional baggage. Unknowingly they would only make it heavier by drawing you into their circle without ever being more than a friend and employee. So off you focused resting your palm in your chin propping an arm on the table to keep your face from easing to the table completely keeping you from stealing glances up at the women still lingering through Thorin’s next two orders taken sipping their drinks at the counter shortening space for the others behind them.

Noticing your reaction Balin on his way back from swapping the mug bins eased up to Thorin pinching him in his side earning a glare that melted at his whisper, “Fix Pear’s drink. Take a break.”

Thorin wanted to roll his eyes but one glance at you and he caught the clear flicker of an emotion showing there was something wrong. Dwalin said behind him you, “We got your pictures cheat sheet on the drinks. Go on.”

Two mugs in hand he eased past the tables of women assuming he was coming to see them again and disappointment was clear at his claiming the stool across from yours setting yours down lifting your gaze. “Nice breasts.” It was a muttered comment but your brows inched up and he bit his lip and rumbled out through your curious grin reacting to his instant blush, “I meant shirt,” his fingers traveled across his pecs, it has a nice design on the dip. “Really, accentuates... How’s the house going?”

“House is fine, and you?”

“I’m fine, when I’m not, pointing out features of our breast customer.” Again your smile inched wider and he gave off a huff, “I didn’t. I don’t, your breasts are fantastic, only rivaled by your legs and I’m going to stop talking about them right now.”

“I don’t know, all that talk about my upper half, my lower half might take it a bit personally.”

All he did was furrow his brows and lift his mug for a deep sip, “You’re eventually going to run out of tea you know.”

Reaching out he claimed your book saying, “Ooh, you’ve priced things.”

“For future reference and budgeting.”

His eyes rose to yours and you could see the fix it in his gaze instantly rising again, “You’re stopping?”

“Well it’s not like my money is endless and the house certainly won’t float away if I leave most of it empty for now.” Taking a sip of your mug mentally drafting your usually honest and appealing review to be typed up on the train.

“Certainly we-,”

“No.”

His brow inched up, “No?”

“Your family has helped me find and paint my dream home I am not squirreling away furnishings off their purses just to fill it as well. It will get filled, Captain save an Elf.”

“I am not saving anyone.”

“Really? So you just always welcome complete strangers into the fold often how you have with me?”

“You’re different.”

Lifting your mug again you asked, “In what way?”

“You, are.” Your brow inched up and he asked, “That’s the only reason, funds?”

“If I get to the hotel and find I’m getting a raise I’m going to quit and come back here flick your nose,” Making him smirk and shake his head looking down to turn the page.

“The mattresses at least..”

“Mattresses, for frames I don’t have yet, for guests that won’t be coming any time soon. My family won’t be available till summer if they could come out.”

His eyes looked you over again and he asked, “Nothing else? Today, you seem,”

“Kept waking up. Just a bit tired. My roomba kept hitting the door stopper in one of my rooms. Took me forever to find what that clicking was. It’s different being in a home. My flat was just one room, didn’t take long to know what a noise was.”

Dwalin coming up to the table with a refill for Thorin said, “Surely if you need a roommate-,”

“No,” you giggled out, “Surely I pester my Mug Dealer too often at times, why make him bunk with me too.”

That had Thorin puffing up in a deep inhale and Dwalin asked, “Set prices for your next shopping trip?”

Thorin, “Putting it off a bit.”

Dwalin scoffed and you said, “Even with Belly’s found fortune for rent I couldn’t afford all this. It’ll take time. Most are just vague ideas at best anyways.”

Dwalin, “At least the mattresses! You have to have a place,”

“I don’t get guests. Past your family dropping in I haven’t had guests in ages.”

Dwalin, “Well we can change that. Let us help you fill it up and you’ll be chalk full of guests in no time on your days off to brighten up that social life of yours.”

“My social life suits the needs of my friends, I am a very low maintenance friend no need to drop a hoard of gold to fix up my place.”

“Just, you looked a bit down when you sat down, just want to pep you up and that trip with Dis had you grinning.”

“Just a bit tired, but I have it on good authority my breasts look fantastic,” Thorin exhaled and lifted his new mug in the start of Dwalin’s head turning to face him, “But nowhere near as tempting as my legs.”

Dwalin said to his cousin half amused and half stunned, “Who let you out of the house today?”

Thorin lowly muttered above his mug, “I didn’t say tempting.”

“No but your eyes did.” Making him cough a little when his sip tried to go down the wrong way in your spreading smirk. “Either way, things are looking good, no doubt you’ve heard my show got a possible book offer from Gorgo no less.”

Thorin, “Yes, Dain mentioned that Mal sent the word on to Bunny.”

Unable to help it you smirked as Dwalin said, “No doubt Bunny is thrilled.”

“Not as thrilled as the Countess would be.” You replied before taking another sip of your drink. “You guys seem busy.”

Dwalin swatted his hand, “Should have seen it an hour ago.”

Thorin, “People cramming in to hear the tail end of the show.”

“Bet they loved the butcher.” You teased.

They both said, “Hated him.” Making you giggle to yourself.

“Just wait till you read about him he’s not half bad.”

A few more customers walking in took Dwalin back to the counter and Thorin turned your attention back to the book still halfway wishing to goad you into letting him pick you out another gift. Though before long he was claiming your mug and his own heading back to the counter stealing a final glimpse of your bouncing path out the view of the front windows. When he turned to face forward Dwalin didn’t even have to say anything Thorin blurted out, “I was trying to compliment her shirt.”

Dwalin and Balin both said, “Uh huh.” Watching him head to add the mugs to the sink.

Ignoring your confusion on the puzzling grump you sent off your latest review to their social page for the shop and settled back through the train ride wondering if he would be popping up again first thing in the morning to give you another weather report.

.

All the way through your shift you wondered how Ecthellion had done in speaking with Gorgo. Once your cart was checked back in again to its cubby you turned hearing your name. With a spreading grin you eyed Tili asking, “Miss Pear.”

“Hi.” Before you could stop yourself you said, “I will warn you I did promise Thorin to flick him on the nose if you gave me a raise today.”

In the deepening of her grin and dimples she replied, “For his safety we will simply wait on that then. As for today I was wondering how are your weekends looking for the rest of the month?”

“They, look fine, do you need me to pull some extra shifts?”

Tili simply turned on her heel saying, “I’ll keep you posted, have a good day.”

“You too...” shaking your head as she left you muttered to yourself, “Up to something, clearly...” after changing you shouldered your bag making your way down through the lift and out to the usual path to the station again. Leaning against a column you sighed waiting for the train staring at the wall behind where it would be only to turn your head seeing the hesitantly approaching Dwarf with a familiar shade of blue eyes who flashed you a friendly grin and stepped closer.

“Pardon me, Miss Pear is it?” Your brow twitched and he said, “You met my brother Gloin and nephew and, well a good deal of my cousins.”

“You’re not here to demand I accept an offer of furniture are you?”

That made him chuckle to himself and step closer, “No, not in the least, merely spotted you leaving the hotel same as me and taking the same train. Figured there can’t be many green curly haired lasses around.”

“I suppose not.” Hastily you wet your lower lip and asked in another glance his way, “Travel this way often?”

“No, not really. Vili’s got a friend repairing my car, went to meet up with him for progress earlier, taking the train back to my room at Balin’s until it’s repaired then I can head home to Iron Hills in style.” His hand motion of driving off into the distance made you chuckle to yourself.

“Are you part of the retail Durins then?”

“I’m a therapist of sorts actually.”

“Sorts?” You smirked back and stepped off the column at the arrival of the train.

“Well, we’re called Youms we work mainly with, auras and past traumas along with lingering emotions and fears with injuries. Also mix in some massage techniques and touch sensitivity and such. It’s very, broad a term.”

“I sort of have an idea what you mean. Met one once, few centuries back.”

“Oh? How did that go, did he help you?”

“We shook hands and he flinched.” Dropping Oin’s grin, “Then his receptionist couldn’t find any openings for four months, told me to come back then.”

“And?”

“Their lease was up, got a bigger place farther down town. It was a friend at work’s idea to go. So I didn’t take it personally.”

Oin sighed settling in the seat beside yours saying, “To have such a reaction in your hand it must have been very troubling for you to be brushed off like that.”

Expecting his next question he was trying to word you held out your hand over his leg palm up, “I’ve had worse reactions to people just seeing my face. I’m used to being brushed off.” Across your palm his fingers traced certain curves and lines, “Can’t get a sword without breaking a few hammers,” his eyes rose to meet yours, “That’s the phrase I believe.”

“It is,” around your hand his folded and his thumb pressed into your thumb joint gently and couldn’t help but grin, “These hands have broken earth and have a feathered guard.”

“Planting helped. My birds have helped.”

Down your joint his thumb traveled to press into the fold of your wrist causing a pooling of blood to shape into a heart, “Someone is loving you.” Weakly you giggled and were ready to refute that only for him to say, “Such new feelings, confusing, yet to be named.” His eyes met yours, “A love you have not faced before. Just keep floating, love will flood in with the waters.”

“Waters?”

“Some people build bridges, others build dams, now which they build is determined by what path we are meant to follow. You have a dam, not a bad thing, Dams bring patience, strength, power, to conquer water, next to impossible for some. Water is all of life, you have been building, but water is coming, good, bad, the impossible and love.”

“And this love, what do they bring, a bridge?”

Oin chuckled soothing his thumb a bit farther down your forearm feeling your heart pounding contrasting your calm expression, “Fish.”

“That like, a babies reference?”

“No,” again he chuckled he said, “For each other you build your worlds and lives, empty fields and houses, streams and lakes all empty. Your One enters and life begins anew. Good, bad, uncertainty, everything is fish.”

“Nothing to flinch from then?”

Again he chuckled to himself and cradled your hand a moment giving it a kind pat. “No. Some cannot help others. Some do not need help. But trust me that flinch in no way stated you were beyond help had you sought it out yourself.”

“Thank you.”

“If you do require help however I always have openings.”

“I couldn’t afford you,” You replied in his release of your hand feeling a zing in your wrist meaning you were thinking of that incoming love of yours.

“You’d be surprised.”

Softly you giggled replying, “I have gotten enough bargains and deals with your clan to fill a lifetime.”

Smirking to himself he said, “If you need my services, simply tug on the tether my clan has set then and you’ll find my number.” The answer made you smirk while he did the same feeling you ease a bit knowing it was all your say if he would help you, to first find his number and set the appointment after.

.

Three rings and through the line Gorgo’s voice sounded post bout of texting with Dain, who had taken a break on the search to ready Truffles for meeting BamBam and adjust her that it was just a visit and he wouldn’t be coming to stay until his leg was healed. Of course leading to a lengthy debate with the Giant Mortar Boar that she could take care of the cub that relented only in hearing he was still on formula and hadn’t been weaned just yet. “Venture Publishings, Gorgo speaking How May I help you?”

“Yes this is Ecthellion, co-owner of Lonely Mountain Station. I was given your card by my client Bunny who wished for me to see what sort of deal if any you were wishing to offer.”

Inching up in her seat she started stating her pitch, “All of us here truly love her story, I myself have been trying to uncover just who had written the initial draft offered to publishers years prior and my clan for approval of using our family name. We are willing to offer a very handsome advance of 10k to possibly coax a few more chapters at least to continue work on the prior novel she had intended for publishing. We would be willing to offer a year timeline for something completed for publishing.”

“Ah, well then I’m not quite certain we are on the same page for this offered deal.”

In her seat she tucked her legs silently tapping the cap of her pen onto her notepad, “The advance is not enough? I assure you if there have been other offers we will beat them.”

Ecthellion smirked replying, “No I don’t believe you understand my meaning. The novel you are asking about from that particular draft was completed years ago.” Gorgo puffed up in anticipation, “To a stunning 2555 page novel, with I believe the seventh in the series currently in progress. All of it with the exception of three pages to make small revisions on is fully ready for print. The latter ones considerably shorter, however the first is cut as much as it could be without dissolving the storyline and setting. If you are willing to accept a fully completed novel with four movements to be published as a unit then perhaps I could give you time to conference and adjust your offer and discuss furthering the process to head towards publishing?”

“2555 pages?” She barely managed to whisper out to herself then she said after clearing her throat, “We will have to conference for the specific details, however we are interested, please consider this as close to binding of an agreement until a contract can be agreed upon.”

“Trust me I have no doubts on us coming to an agreement to suit everyone involved. Though I must be clear on one thing, Bunny requires her privacy and will be publishing under the pen name Bunny, so if you would not mind passing that on and assuring that all contact goes through me.”

“Of course. We understand perfectly.”

“I will pass on the word to Bunny and we will wait for you to contact us again.”

“Thank you,” she said writing out his contact information he supplied and then hung up after his own parting thanks.

Up out of her seat Gorgo rushed to the office on the end of her floor, on the other side of the door she opened the Head Manager sat flipping through a stack of papers on her desk and removed her glasses to look up at Gorgo through the closing of the door behind her.

“2555 pages.”

“As much as I am appreciating the enthusiasm for context I am going to require a few more details for this to work.”

“Bunny’s book-,”

“She’s expecting an advance for a nearly 3000 page book?”

“No advance, no writing schedule for parts-,”

“I don’t follow.”

“She wrote 2555 pages in the past five years, plus her agent or lawyer that contacted me says she’s working on the seventh book in the series!”

The manager straightened up, “She’s written that, plus six more books?”

“Yes! He’s giving us time to adjust our proposal.”

“That, that would take quite a while. Printing alone we could discuss but to get an agreement on publicity alone, the press tours-,”

“Oh, Bunny is wishing to remain anonymous.”

That had the manager letting out a sigh, “So that is simplified and I’ve seen her media accounts all in the millions followers wise so posting there, radio spots could be recorded and paper press to advertise everywhere. Maybe we could even get the team of actors from the radio show to narrate some of not possibly all of it.”

“If we could manage to have a good supply fairly soon on a price equal to size and not too gouging we could dominate the summer market and possibly have Bunny books out every year for a decade if we manage it wisely. And it is ready for publication?”

“He said she has three pages to edit but past that it’s edited and print ready.”

She nodded and pulled out a fresh notepad saying, “Let’s get these details hashed out then.”

Pt 13

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea​, @ggbbhehe4455​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @here2have-fun​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shesakillerkween

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim​, @jotink78​, @pastelhexmaniac

[marmolady]

Livita

-revised with major edits... enjoy!-

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. Freed from Vaanu, Taylor has been building a life with her soulmate... but their family remains not quite complete.

Warnings: Coarse language. 

Word Count: 4292

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

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August 2022

 Taylor’s heart sank as she looked at the result. Negative. Again.

Estela sighed and looked away. Again, no baby. Even knowing she could have done nothing more, it felt horribly like she’d let Taylor down when it really mattered. Everything she’d ever wanted… her deepest desire… it was so close, only for them to be repeatedly smacked down by some invisible barrier.

“We’ll try again,” said Taylor quietly, trying to sound like someone who hadn’t just been crushed. “This is gonna happen for us, okay?”

Despairing, Estela threw her head back, trying and failing to calm her emotions. For several long minutes she wrestled with herself before turning back to her wife. Her voice shook when she spoke. “Maybe… maybe we should try with you… it’s not as if I’m not made up of a load of shit that we shouldn’t really want to pass on to an innocent child.”

“First of all; no. You are freaking perfect, and nothing you could give a baby could be anything but that. And I know how much you want this. I want it to be you. I want us to keep trying.”

Walking away, Estela could feel guilt clawing at her stomach. Of course she wanted to be the one to carry the baby, but if things kept up like this, there wouldn’t be a baby to carry. She sighed again, heavier, and curled up on the couch, knees against her chest. “Taylor, it’s been over a year…”

“We can see another doctor if it puts your mind at ease? But I trust what they said; everything’s working fine, it’s just not necessarily gonna happen overnight.” Taylor sat down beside her wife and began massaging her back, feeling tension in every muscle. “I know we wanted to do this at home, but we could consider intra-uterine. How about we give it one more month, and then start looking at other options?”

For a long while, Estela said nothing, staring into space as she tried to process the aching disappointment. When she zoned back into reality, Taylor was still there, kneading her back. Another month… that was reasonable.

Taylor eased down the back of Estela’s shirt and pressed kisses between her shoulders. “I know how much you’re hurting right now… I’m feeling it too. Someday soon, we’ll hardly remember this; we’ll be too busy wading through diapers and trying to get a wink of sleep. But for now, I think it’s a comfort food under a blanket situation. We’ll just snuggle up in a love cocoon until whenever it is that we’re ready to put on brave faces.”

They cuddled beneath a blanket on the couch, grateful to have nothing pressing to do nor any people to see. That they’d have a baby together had always been a given, at least once it became certain that Taylor could remain with her loved ones on earth. They’d found their peace, and each had their home was in the arms of the other. The next step was the baby. Estela would carry the child; passing on a little piece of the mother who’d been so cruelly taken from her. Of course, it meant that the other grandparent would carry on through the bloodline as well… but having wrestled with it, Estela concluded that honouring Olivia Montoya was more important to her than eliminating Rourke. It was deemed the safer option; whatever Taylor was, she was not entirely human, and her reproductive capabilities and genetic contribution would be rather more of a gamble. If it came to it, they could try that path- certainly Taylor liked the idea of being related to another person by blood- but the simple truth was that Estela’s urge for that physical bond was far stronger. Diego, the nearest thing Taylor had to family, would be the donor, and someday, a doting tio. All the rationale, the planning… all of it mattered little if it just didn’t happen for them. In the end, how it happened wasn’t important… they just needed their family.

The disappointment was not getting any easier, month after month, even as it became expected. They now knew better than to get their hopes up too high. Once again, Taylor would go back to Diego to ask for his help… another round of ‘I’m sorry’s and hugs of consolation. Estela would be quiet for a few days, but their optimism would return as it always did. Together they’d literally undone an apocalypse; so long as they had one another’s hands to hold, they’d soldier through anything.

Estela gently caressed Taylor’s lips with her own, tasting the salt of tears. For her she’d be strong; it was what she’d always done. It was impossible to be broken for long whilst held in Taylor’s heart and embrace. “Next time…” she said softly.

Taylor nodded and returned the kiss. God, I love you…

“…Next time…”

  _____________________________________

September 2022

 Pausing her frenzied scribbling of notes, Taylor pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. From her position cross-legged on the couch, she heard the creak of the front door.

“You’re home late,” she said, still poring over her notes. “Reggie holding you hostage again?”

Estela draped her arms over Taylor’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, something like that.”

Taylor couldn’t help but laugh. “I think a part of you is kinda flattered that you can’t give the kid to someone else without him dissolving into banshee screams…”

“He knows his tia.” Pausing for a moment, Estela waged a silent debate in her head before making up her mind for sure. “Taylor, I want to take the test…”

She looked up. Spending so much time with their nephew had only heightened Estela’s want for a baby. They both adored Reginald, but his presence served to highlight exactly what they were missing. “I know. But if you wait a couple more days, it’ll be more accurate. This whole thing is tough enough without worrying about false negatives.”

Estela sat down opposite Taylor, reaching out for her hands. “I’ve just got a feeling, you know? I feel different.” She took her wife’s hand, and tucked it into her bra. “That’s swollen, right?”

“Possibly? But it’s early, my love. I don’t want you getting carried away with something that might not exist.” Of course, it was easy to see signs when it was wanted so much. Between hanging around Reggie all day, and an upcoming journey back to San Trobida in a few days, the yearning was running wild. It was only natural that Estela wanted to greet her tio with the news that she was expecting, but Taylor feared another disappointment. She stroked Estela’s breast, while her other hand lovingly cupped her face. “You know that even if you are pregnant, it probably won’t show up yet?”

“I know that. I’ll do it again in a few days… I just don’t think I can rest without trying.”

“Okay… but don’t get your hopes up. Do you want me with you?”

Estela shook her head. “It’s all right. Like you said, it’s probably too early to work. I’m just trying to settle the voice in my head.” As she moved to leave, Taylor hugged her tight.

“Love you…”

“Love you.”

Taylor looked back to her notes. Their return to San Trobida would be momentous for her; starting up a much-needed youth counselling service in the area surrounding Estela’s home. It was what she’d studied for, and it was with nervous excitement that she jotted down ideas and sketched out plans. With the grants and scholarships that the company had to offer -provided by what Rourke had left behind- there was the feeling that they might be able to make a real difference in giving the children of the civil war hope for the future. The central inspiration to their work was, of course, Estela’s mother. Each award given out to a student was gifted in her name; it provided a small comfort that Dr. Olivia Montoya’s legacy was one of a promise for a better tomorrow. Taylor found herself distracted. They had fulfillment in one another, in the work they were doing… but the picture remained incomplete. The quiet having lingered for too long, Taylor got to her feet, putting her notes aside.

“Estela? Is everything all right?”

No response. Becoming worried, Taylor started towards the bathroom, expecting that she’d need to break out the emergency cheering-up ice cream, as had been a monthly occurrence since they’d started trying for a baby. She knew she’d been right. It had been foolish to cause such distress when another test would need to be taken a few days later anyway.

She tentatively pushed the door. “’Stel? I’m here…”

Estela was sat trembling on the tiled floor, her eyes wide and wet with tears, seemingly unable to look away from the test stick she held in her hand. Several others lay at her feet.

“…Taylor… I’m…” In her daze, she couldn’t even get the words out.

Tears sprung to Taylor’s eyes and her hand to her mouth. Surely… surely it couldn’t be what she thought it was? But then, that smile… that smile… it said it all.

“Wh-what are you… what are you saying?”

“We’re… we’re having a baby…”

Without knowing how she got there, Taylor was on the floor, Estela’s arms around her as they cried, and laughed, and kissed.

We’re having a baby.

  ____________________________________

 June 2023

Nine months flew by, life refusing to slow down. Much of that time was spent in San Trobida, where Taylor was faced with a rush to establish her youth programmes during the brief window in which she’d be available with her full attention. Once the baby arrived, everything else would take a back seat, and her role would be as a part-time mentor to students. Estela had slowly dialled back her role in her and Aleister’s company -with both of them on parental duties, delegation had become increasingly necessary. She kept up with the few bits and pieces that interested her, primarily assistance and scholarships for San Trobidan students, which allowed her to work nicely in tandem with Taylor, but anything else could be someone else’s problem. The pair returned to La Huerta with a couple of months spare to get ready for their new addition, and come the fourth Catalyst reunion –the very first day- it was time.

Her waters having broken in the middle of the anniversary party, Estela had quickly been swooped upon by an attentive Michelle, who’d determined it was high time they took the proceedings back to their own home where there was a little more comfort and privacy. Taylor lovingly tended to her wife, cleaning her off and helping her into the back of the car that would ferry them along the track between The Celestial and the hut in Catalyst Village.

“Taylor,” Estela took her wife’s shaking hand in her own. “You don’t have to be so nervous. It’s not like you’re the one who’s gonna be doing all the work.”

“Hey, this is likely to be the most important day of both of our lives. I’m allowed to have a few jitters, okay?”

Taylor caught Estela’s eye and grinned like an idiot. This is actually, finally happening. The smile faltered just a little as she felt Estela’s body stiffen beside her; another contraction. That there was only so much she could do was difficult; all their battles were fought together, as equal partners, and to essentially be a bystander was a role Taylor wasn’t sure she suited. As she helped Estela up to their bed, she was left with the distinct impression that she was being humoured; the fussing really wasn’t necessary, but the care behind the gesture appreciated.

Estela approached childbirth in much the same manner that she did most of life’s challenges; just getting on with it. She was no stranger to pain, and refused to be daunted, breathing through contractions with minimal grumbling. Taylor sat upon the bed beside her, offering massages and holding her hand through the worst of the contractions, all the while enjoying a rare opportunity to catch up properly with Michelle, who’d offered herself as midwife.

Every now and then, a text message would come through from someone or another, asking for a progress report, and in return receiving an update on the annual anniversary party. Naturally, bets were being made all over the place… the sex of the baby… the time of arrival… whether or not it came out brandishing a weapon…. The attention from the rest of the Catalysts was welcome, breaking up the monotony otherwise punctuated by Estela quietly huffing through contractions.

The sky outside darkened, and it seemed quite clear that the night would be a long one. With progress slow, Taylor killed some time by rustling up some snacks from the kitchen. When she came back upstairs, she couldn’t help but let her eye linger upon the small room, the one that would soon belong to their child. All of a sudden, that their lives were about to change became very real. She’d never had a childhood herself, so to have the blessing of experiencing it through her own son or daughter was a great unknown. Taylor was certain she was ready. The one her friends would turn to with all their problems, she would be an open and supportive parent. And in Estela… well, she couldn’t ask for a more fiercely loving partner. It would be scary, but as Taylor saw it, all the best adventures were.

The hours dragged by so slowly. Taylor found herself fidgety, and took to slowly pacing beside the bed. She still felt like a spare part, and nervous energy built up within her as she picked up the same from Estela. They were now hours in, and there was a sense that they were turning towards the last, dangerous stretch… and still Taylor could do little to ease the process.

Estela’s staunch stoicism began to falter. A trembling bottom lip betrayed her fear as she hit a wall, scared for the first time since her labour began. The contractions kept coming, with barely a pause. Wave after wave, stronger, as if her body was trying to tear itself apart, and no chance to come up for air. It felt as though she had no control over her own body… and by extension, the baby. She was a passenger along for the ride, powerless. After so many hours, countless nightmare scenarios had time to run through her head, now haunting her, and doubt in herself set in with a vengeance. As soon as she let that primal fear take hold, a wave of grief hit her, so strong that she might drown.

Worried, Michelle rubbed her arm. “What’s going on? Estela?”

There was no response. Estela looked away; her expression distant as she retreated into herself. She wanted to cry, to scream, but it would not bring what she needed.

“It’s getting more intense because we’re getting near the time when you need to push. This is normal. Talk to us, okay?”

Still nothing.

Taylor leaned over the bed, reaching for Estela, unnerved by the change, so swift and profound. Something was really not right. She took her wife’s shaking hand and squeezed, and the pressure returned was fierce, panicked. Still, she struggled to get eye contact; Estela appeared lost, far away. “…Hey…” When she finally met Estela’s eyes, she saw a plea for help. The penny dropped.

“Hey, could you give us a moment?” she asked in Michelle’s ear, her voice hushed.

Once they were left alone, Taylor climbed onto the bed and brought Estela’s head to her chest, stroking her sweat-drenched hair. “You want your mom…”

The painful lump in Estela’s throat gave way. She leaned into Taylor, who cradled her as she cried and writhed in agony.

“I’m so sorry, my love, my beautiful Estela… I’m sorry she can’t be here, holding your hand like she should be…”

The floodgates had opened, and Estela sobbed into her wife’s shirt, her hands clutching desperately at her back, hanging on as if afraid of losing her too.

“That’s it… let it out…” Taylor kissed her soaked brow and held her close, rocking Estela gently as her body convulsed through a contraction that just seemed to go on forever. “I’ve got you. You just hold on tight, okay? I’ve got you, and I’m never… I’m never letting go.”

“Taylor… it hurts.”

“I know… I know…” More kisses, the only inadequate comfort she could offer. It just wasn’t fair.  “She’s part of you always, sweetheart… nothing can ever take that from you. And our little baby… she’s part of our baby too. All that love your mom gave you, you get to pass it on, share it with bub.” Taylor sighed, feeling the weight of her helplessness as her wife gripped her ever tighter, gasping in pain. She couldn’t help with the baby, and she sure as hell give Estela what she really needed. Her voice caught in her throat. “I know it can never be enough.”

Slowly… agonisingly slowly, the intensity receded, the contractions slowed, and Estela could finally catch her breath, her vice-grip on Taylor’s back slackening. It felt as though the worst was over. She felt a tender kiss to the side of her face, and returned it, even as she trembled in Taylor’s arms.

“Sorry,” she panted, offering a weak smile.  “I didn’t expect it to creep up on me like that. I just… started to get nervous about the baby coming, and… God, it hurt so bad… and the more scared I got… it was almost like I was a kid again, needing her so much.”

“That’s natural, Stel.”

“And I guess I can feel that it’s close now. It doesn’t… it doesn’t feel right for the baby to come… and her not be here. I’m sorry, I just…”

“Hey…don’t apologise.” Taylor took Estela’s face in her hands, stroking away tears with the gentlest touch. “This is where your strength comes from; your big heart… even the part that’s always going to be broken. It’s why you’re gonna be the most wonderful, incredible mama to our little baby. Your mom would be so proud of you, Estela. God, I know I am.”

Estela nuzzled against Taylor’s fingers, taking one to her mouth in a soft kiss. She looked at her through her tears, feeding off the devotion that shone back in those brilliant blue eyes. Her mother would be so happy that she had Taylor, in her corner through it all. In a way… it was she who’d brought them together.

She exhaled shakily. “I can’t wait for you to hold our baby…”

Taylor pressed her forehead to Estela’s, her heart full to bursting. “You are so, so strong, love. You’ve got this.” And I’ve got you.

Estela closed her eyes, soothed by the intimate touch. “Taylor… thank you.” A kiss to her cheek told her that Taylor understood. That they were in this together really went without saying. She took a deep breath. Time to do this. “We should bring Michelle back in; I think I’m ready to start pushing.”

There was a small flurry of activity as Michelle hurriedly resumed doctor duties, and confirmed that things were indeed moving along. Getting comfortable was all but impossible, but Estela eventually settled kneeling up against Taylor, letting gravity help her out.

Another shuddering groan rang out as Estela dug deep to push against the all-consuming pain. Progress felt excruciatingly slow. Her powerful body strained with every ounce of strength, willing the baby onwards, while she held on desperately to Taylor’s hand.

“You’re doing great… you might just break my fingers, but you’re doing great.”

At long last -to the expectant mothers it might have been an eternity- the baby’s head appeared, and Taylor reluctantly eased away from her wife, to be helped into position for delivery by Michelle. Her heart pounded wildly at the first glimpse. There it was. Their baby. Their baby…

Michelle leaned in close, nervous exhilaration clear on her face. “Are you ready? I’ll be right here with you to check baby over.” Receiving a confident nod, she returned her attention to the person who was doing all the hard work. “Estela, you’re so, so close.”

“…I fucking hope so…”

“On the next contraction, I want you to pant through it… gentle pushes so the head doesn’t come too fast. I think… I think that should do it.”

Estela whimpered and looked to Taylor for reassurance. This had gone on long enough… she needed to know that the baby was all right. Gentle, murmured words of encouragement and a soft rub against her leg helped to steady her, and she steeled herself for the next wave. This was it now; she was bringing her baby home.

A strong cry rang out as the baby entered the world, straight into Taylor’s waiting hands, instantly bringing her to tears. Tiny arms reached out in bewilderment and the baby hollered in shock at the sudden transition. Murmuring gentle words of comfort, Taylor brought the child up to her face, softly kissing as the indignant cries quietened.

“Is the baby okay- Taylor, is baby okay?”

Taylor bundled the wet, disoriented infant close to her, while Michelle checked it over, and responded with a voice thick with elated tears. “Stel, she’s perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes, and she’s already got a lot to say for herself.”

Tears streamed down Estela’s face as her hands flew to her mouth in sweet disbelief. Their baby was here… she was here and she was safe. Her voice trembled when she spoke, the briefest glimpses of the child enough to send her into emotional overwhelm. “She? She’s a girl?”

“She’s a beautiful girl.”

Receiving an encouraging nod from Michelle, Taylor brought the baby, now wrapped in a towel, and gently eased her into Estela’s waiting arms.

Estela’s breath caught in her throat. When she met her daughter’s eyes, she thought she might never look away. “Oh my god…” She wept, clutching the child to her bare chest, and her heart skipped a beat as a tiny mouth latched onto her breast. “Mi dulce niña, mi bebé, mi bebé…”

She reluctantly tore her gaze away from her precious baby to look up at Taylor, whose eyes were swimming, face shining with love. “Taylor…”

Sniffing helplessly, Taylor leaned in and kissed the top of her wife’s head again and again. “Oh god, I love you, Estela… I love her… I… I…”

Michelle looked on, a hand over her heart and her eyes misty. “Congratulations, both of you. She’s just… absolutely, completely gorgeous. And… and thank you.” The slight shake of her voice gave away her emotions. “That you wanted me to share this with you… it honestly means the world.”

Taylor stood up and wrapped her friend in the tightest, most loving of hugs. “Thank you. So, so much. I don’t know what we did to deserve you, but we love you so much, Michelle.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, Estela have a little nod, looking at Michelle with fierce gratitude and affection. She couldn’t find the words, but a quiet understanding was all that was needed.

“I love you both. And your little angel…” Michelle felt endless satisfaction as she watched the infant nurse at her friend’s chest. To have played even a small part in making that happen, her heart might just burst with pride.

Taylor pulled her shirt off over her head and wriggled down under the covers, drawn into the heat of Estela’s body. She nuzzled her face towards her chest and took in a deep breath as she pressed a long kiss to the baby’s soft head, taking in the sweetest of scents.

“So… Olivia?” she asked.

Estela’s eyes welled as she nodded her head. She knew Taylor understood, and in that moment, she couldn’t love her more. “Our Livita. Maybe, Olivia… Andromeda? You should be a part of her name.”

“Oh. Oh, wow.” For a few moments, Taylor was lost for words, and she simply looked at her beloved with starry eyes. She took Estela’s hand and kissed it before going back to kiss their daughter again -how she’d ever get enough of smooching that child’s dear little face, she’d never know. “That’s… that’s perfect. She’s perfect.” She stroked Olivia’s dark, downy hair, her skin so impossibly soft. “Oh, my Livi… our angel… we love you all the way to the stars.”

“All the way to the stars, and back again,” Estela corrected with a wink.

Michelle quietly bustled around them, cleaning up and making sure all the boxes were ticked on her baby delivery checklist. Completely ecstatic as she was, she was more than ready to collapse into her pillow.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” she said softly, knowing that her work there was done. Both mothers were handling the baby confidently, and with a tenderness that was heart-warming to behold. Tucked up against Estela’s chest, a hand protectively cradling her tiny body, no child could wish for a safer, more loving embrace in which to rest. “I’ll be back in a minute if you need anything at all, but I’ve got a feeling you can take it from here.”

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the floaty drapes, a welcome dawn after the longest of nights, bringing the colour of day to the new life that settled, fed and contented, against the warmth of her mothers’ beating hearts.

Before she turned to go, Michelle left a kiss each on her friends’ foreheads and stroked under the baby’s tiny chin.

“Olivia Andromeda Montoya, welcome to the world.”

[raendown]

Chapter: 2/9 Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 3280 Rated: M Summary: Walking patrol around a university for mages probably sounded like a wild time but Tobirama has never found it all that exciting. He’s not even technically supposed to be here. When responding to a tripped alarm becomes a desperate attempt to stay alive, however, excitement is the last thing on his mind. All he’s ever wanted is a quiet life alone with his books until he finds himself bound to Uchiha Madara in the most impossible way and finally learns to think about more than just himself - in a way.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 2

“I can feel their energies here.”

Hashirama paused in his fight against the snow currently trying to suck him under and looked up to see where they had stopped. It didn’t look like much. Everything around them was covered in snow nearly two feet thick and so pristine it was almost hard to distinguish the shapes of the hills around them. The one they had stopped at wasn’t different in any way from the others except perhaps being slightly smaller.

“You’re sure?” he asked. Hinata tilted her head and smiled at him, veins bulging out around her strange eyes. Several of the others with them took a subtle step backwards.

“Absolutely, Headmaster. Their energies are somewhere inside, underneath the earth. They’ve changed.”

“What do you mean ‘they’ve changed’? Changed how?”

Hinata smiled again and turned to look at him. “I cannot say,” was all she said.

Muttering about the irritating vagueness of seers, Hashirama shook his head and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for but he absolutely knew when he found it. A cave; the entrance to an entire system of caves, actually. From the echoes in the ground he wasn’t sure whether to feel triumphant or even more put off at the thought of searching through all that open space. All he wanted was his brother and his best friend. Was that too much to ask?

“You will find them.” Hinata nodded once, sightless eyes locked on to his, and he wondered for the hundredth time how seers always managed to do that when they were all blind, their worldly vision exchanged for inner sight. “Good afternoon, Headmaster.”

“Are you–? She’s leaving. One of you go with her, please, and make sure she gets back the school alright.” One of their group broke off to escort the young woman wherever she ended up while Hashirama kept his eyes on the prize before him. So much ground to cover – literally – but as vague and difficult as they were on the whole, seers were also known for being irritatingly accurate.

With several of his strongest faculty members behind him, backup in case whoever took Tobirama and Madara away from the school was still around, he walked forward to punch a hole in what looked like a completely solid wall. It caved immediately. Perfectly piled snow collapsed inwards and rained down until finally the cave entrance was revealed to them. An ingenious hiding place, he had to admit, something that a random passerby would never have detected until the winter season passed.

A smile of triumph flitted across his features as he waded his way in to the tunnel and kicked open a path for the rest to follow until finally they made it far enough inside where the snow thinned. Looking around as he made his way carefully forward didn’t tell him much. It was a natural cave, no signs of any tool markings non-magical or otherwise.  He made a cursory glance around for footprints but the storm that had kicked up around midnight had done a good job erasing the possibility of that. There was a hum of sorts in the air, however, and that was as much warning as he got before walking headlong in to a barrier spell.

Which, luckily, had already been weakened enough that instead of deadly force he was met with only a brief shower of fire sparks that came out more like electricity, leaving his hair standing out from his head like the chia pets he used to see on non-magical television.

While his teachers fussed and flocked and made sure he was alright Hashirama narrowed his eyes at the barrier.

“That felt like my brother’s magic,” he said. “Except not. Not entirely, anyway. Kurenai, my dear, could you come have a look at this please?”

The head of his wards and perception department, Yuhi Kurenai was the best one to check out the barrier he so unwittingly walked right in to. She was also the most qualified out of all of them to check for any other illusions that might be tangled up in it and confirm that whatever they found beyond the barrier was not an illusion.

Stepping back a few paces, Hashirama allowed the woman a little space to shuffle around him and get to work. Her red eyes reminded him a little of his brother’s when she narrowed them in concentration, fingers reaching out to pause just before the barrier, close enough to draw out a faint hissing sound and a warning flash of light gold an inch or so from her fingers. No one spoke as she stood there motionless. It took a couple of minutes but eventually she turned around with a curious slant to her brows and a frown on her lips.

“Your brother fiddled with it first, Headmaster. He added a few proverbial bombs. I’m afraid his magic is too bright for me to get a proper read on the other person underneath but I can tell you that there’s something tantalizingly familiar about it.”

“Not good news,” Hashirama muttered.

“But his little trick has weakened the spell enough that I can crack it like glass and get us in.”

“Good news!” Clapping his hands together once, he then gestured her back to the seemingly innocuous way forward. “Shall we, then?”

Kurenai nodded and got to work without making him wait. As she predicted, the spell shattered under one sharp blow to exactly the right spot and Hashirama was stepping past it almost before she gave him the all clear to do so.

Just beyond where the barrier had been the tunnel curved and Hashirama slowed his footsteps, signaling for the others to tread carefully behind him as he peeked around the bend ahead with every step. Slowly a larger open space opened up before him. It appeared completely empty until he finally moved far enough in that he was able to see the eastern wall.

Of all the things he expected to find, seeing Madara and Tobirama cuddled up together was not one of them. It actually took a full second of blank shock for his reason to kick in and remind him that last night there had been a blizzard, that neither of the men across the way were dressed for extended periods of time outdoors, and conclude that they had most likely huddled together for warmth. That didn’t make it any stranger to see the two of them getting along in any context.

Hashirama’s entourage scurried after him as he rushed across the snowy floor and dropped to his knees to look for a pulse, entirely casting aside the idea that he should have allowed Kurenai to check for illusions or other traps first. Strangely, neither of the men before him felt cold. In a cave so thickly coated with ice he would have expected to find their skin chilled – or at least Tobirama’s since Madara had his magic to warm him. They were both, in fact, the exact same temperature under his touch.

Skin temperature was hardly the most important thing on his mind, however. More urgent was seeing whether he could get them to wake up. Neither of their skin looked discolored so the chances that they had escaped hypothermia seemed pretty good but he was hardly a medical expert. Suddenly he felt stupid for not bringing one of his medi-mages along just in case; his own daughter would have been an excellent choice. Gently shaking Tobirama’s shoulder got no response when he tried and neither did shaking Madara’s. Slapping their cheeks did nothing but loll their heads to either side. With great concern he decided that doing this here was wasting time. It would be better for them to get out of the cold first and try to wake them later.

Pulling Tobirama towards himself, he gestured for Kurenai to help him break the death grip they had on each other’s hands. One or both of them seemed determined to cling, probably unconsciously worried about losing their digits to the cold, and it was making the efforts to help them quite difficult. Finally he managed to pry them loose and pull Tobirama away from Madara’s embrace.

He wasn’t prepared for his brother’s reaction.

 -

 Time might have passed. It was hard to think of the world outside, hard to concentrate on anything. Together they existed in a state of peace where nothing was wrong and nothing could ever go wrong. One being, one core of flowing magic, liquid fire that flowed through every vein in their two bodies to bring warmth and harmony. It felt as if they had always been this way and always would be. Surely they had always been one being, thoughts and sensations and memories shared, nothing to hide and no desire for anything else in the world but this perfect state of being to go on forever.

Something brushed against one of their four wrists but it was okay, they knew it would always be okay. Together they felt something touching their bodies but that was fine too. Nothing mattered but the euphoria of togetherness. Then that something began to pick at the places where their river converged, the weakest points in the connection that made them them and finally they understood that something bad was happening. By then it was simply too late.

Tobirama came up screaming. Something was wrong but he didn’t know what; all he knew was that one moment he had been whole and the next he was torn from himself, lesser, a name is his head that he couldn’t remember forgetting. Where he should have felt the other half of himself there in his mind he found only echoing silence, only water where he should have also had the compliment of fire. Only two hands where he should have had four, only one heartbeat where he should have had two. Lonely in a way he could not identify. Everything about him was wrong, wrong, so very wrong.

And it hurt.

It took a while to even notice the voice trying to soothe him but even then it was a fight to recognize it past the haze of pain. Tobirama opened his eyes to see Madara’s body cradled in someone else’s arms – Hikaku, he recognized faintly in the back of his mind, though his identity was none of Tobirama’s concern at the moment. With one arm his reached out, desperate to reach Madara and unable to articulate why. Hands on his shoulders held him back.

“Shush, Tobi, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Big brother is here. We’ll take you back home now, okay?”

Tobirama whined low in the back of his throat and reached harder. He watched as Madara’s body was lifted and with every step away the pain in his soul grew and grew until it came echoing up his throat again, a garbled scream of protest.

“Whoa, hey, Tobi! What’s wrong? What is it?” Hands stroked his face but he shook them away.

“He’s in pain,” he gasped, unsure of how he knew but very sure it was the most important thing in the world that he stop it, more important even than his own pain. He felt almost as though his very essence had been pulled out of his body and yet to know that his other half…that Madara was in pain, it couldn’t be borne.

“Someone tell Hikaku to get back here.” At last he recognized the voice next to him as Hashirama. Having his brother there with him should have been a comfort. Tobirama had eyes only for the approaching body, limp where he hung in the strong arms of his distant cousin.

Weakly struggling against his own limbs, Tobirama reached out as best as he could. It quickly became clear that he didn’t have the strength to move himself and eventually Hashirama jumped in to help him sit up properly, nonplussed expression on his face just barely hiding the rabid curiosity underneath. He helped Tobirama lift one arm and instructed Hikaku to bring Madara close enough for them to touch.

A wave of relief and belonging washed over Tobirama the moment their hands connected. He was whole again. Sinking in to blissful completion, they welcomed the darkness that rose up to take them away from that wretched cave.

The next time Tobirama became aware of the world he was in the infirmary with no memory of how he came to be there. His last coherent memories were of being cold, of Madara’s reluctant offer to warm him. After that there was some sort of hazy dream about not being whole, being torn apart at the very center of his existence, and for some reason Hashirama’s voice hovering over him with fruitless words of comfort. The whole thing was strange.

What was stranger was sitting upright to find his infirmary bed pushed up against the one next to it, his fingers woven in to Madara’s, and their hands tied together with what looked like a string of magic. If the exhaustion wasn’t messing with his senses too badly then the magic felt as though it originated from Tsunade, his precocious little niece, barely a century of years under her belt and already world-renowned in the magical communities for her advancements in the healing arts. He really hoped she had a good reason for tying him to…actually, once he stopped to think about it he found that he wasn’t nearly as upset as he should be.

Getting tied to Uchiha Madara should be his worst nightmare yet here he was feeling oddly relieved. Clearly something had gone terribly wrong.

Luckily he wasn’t left to stew in his own panic for long, the doors to the hall opening a moment later and several familiar faces waltzing in without so much as a single knock to make sure he was decent. One look at the shocked relief on his brother’s face when their eyes met and he decided that – just this once! – he could forgive such rudeness.

“You’re awake!” Hashirama threw himself across the room to pull Tobirama into a hug. In return he patted the man’s back with his one free hand.

“It would seem so. Also confused. If someone would kindly tell us what we’re doing strapped to Madara?”

“Uh…” Hashirama stared at him strangely and Tobirama couldn’t for the life of him understand why but he was distracted by Tsunade stomping up to him on those too-high heels of hers and bending down to look deeply in to his eyes.

“So I was right,” was all she said.

Falling back on one elbow to get some space between them, he asked, “Right about what?”

His niece straightened up to make room for Hashirama to lunge forward and dither around his brother as she spoke, the news she delivered just heavy enough that Tobirama didn’t even bother to protest Hashirama’s overbearing tendencies.

“Your condition is something I’ve only come across twice in my studies and the idea was entirely theoretical in both texts. Every time we tried to separate you from Professor Uchiha you both showed signs of extreme distress; a couple times it was so bad you would both seize or your vitals would drop. An examination of your bodies showed nothing suspicious but when we had some examine the flow of your magics…” She trailed off with a hesitant expression and Tobirama felt his heart beating in his throat.

“What? Spit it out, what did you find?”

“The two of you aren’t ‘the two of you’ anymore. Your magic and his have exactly the same signature now. I don’t know what you guys were up to in that cave but your core magics have merged in to one and from what we can tell, the pain of separation stems from both of you searching for the parts of yourself that are actually in someone else’s body now.”

Explanation finished, Tsunade propped both hands on her hips and let him have a minute to absorb everything she’d just said. The others followed suit. Even Hashirama stopped flapping around trying to make sure he really was okay and instead gently pet his hair to help keep him calm.

“That is the craziest bullshit we’ve ever heard,” he finally muttered.

“Brother.” Hashirama kept his tone low and soothing. “We had to tie your hands together so you’d stop rolling away from each other because every time you did…Tobi, the sounds you were making…” It was as horrifying as it was fascinating to watch him choke on his own words and turn away because elaborating on that was too difficult. Him. Hashirama, the man with so many emotions he’d cried during every speech he gave in his entire life, could not handle describing the screams of his own brother.

Tobirama turned his head to look at the man in the bed beside him. “We’re sorry.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was sorry about but he knew that Hashirama’s discomfort was his own fault and that had never sat well. At least, not when he hadn’t deliberately caused that discomfort himself with a prank or something of the like.

“Yeah, that’s another symptom,” Tsunade drawled. Tobirama looked up again with a questioning eyebrow.

“What is?”

“That thing you’re doing where you speak in the royal we.”

“We have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Crying out in triumph, Tsunade pointed at him. “That! Right there! You said ‘we’ but it should have been ‘I’!”

Opening his mouth to refute her, Tobirama stopped dead. He had indeed just been about to say ‘No we didn’t’. Just because he had to admit that she was right didn’t mean he needed to prove her point for her.

His eyes were drawn back to Madara like a magnet to a lode stone while the others in the room began to chatter amongst themselves, speculations about why his subconscious speech had changed. All things considered he really should be more upset. For as long as they had known each other he and Madara had been like oil and water, unable to mix, forever clashing. He could easily admit that in most of those clashes he had taken shameless amusement from stoking the fire, both literal and proverbial.

Now here he was being told that the very core of his being had somehow melded with Madara’s and he found himself taking the news in a suspiciously calm manner, almost like his unconscious mind had already accepted it. It baffled him that they were even capable of merging and yet when he thought of being one with Madara his entire being was suffused with such a feeling of rightness that his mind fairly skittered away from the idea of being any other way. The logical part of his brain told him that this probably had something to do with one of those non-magical science principles, something about an object at rest wanting to stay there, and he decided that accepting that theory was probably safer than probing for deeper meanings.

More important was thinking about how they were going to deal with this situation. His mind absolutely refused to consider anything in regards to separation; would Madara feel the same? Something in his gut told him yes with such finality that he immediately moved on to the next issue. How were they supposed to live like this? Going through each day tethered to another body would impede quite a lot of things, from bathroom needs to the battle of his studies versus Madara’s classroom.

“This is going to get very interesting,” he muttered under the sounds of everyone else’s conversations.

[master-sass-blast]

The Sleepover Fic

WELL, THIS ENDED DIFFERENTLY THAN I HAD PLANNED. GOOD LORD.

Summary: You enjoy a sleepover night with the X-Force at the X-Mansion --but partway through you get hit by a wall of depression. Fortunately, Piotr’s there to help you through it.

(Maybekindaprobablydefinitely inspired by the depressive episode I’ve had this week.)

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader and Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson (sorta).

Rating: T for language and depression.

@marvel-is-perfection

The idea, admittedly, is ridiculous. And that’s why you love it so much.

You’re camped out in the rec room with the rest of the X-Force, perched on the couch next to Piotr in your best set of pajamas --which, admittedly, were just a pair of pants that said ‘bacon makes everything better’ over and over and a random t-shirt. “Okay. So how does this sleepover thing work?”

The rec room’s been completely transformed, floor covered with various sleeping bags, cushions, air mattresses, blankets, and pillows. A pile of snacks covers every inch of the coffee table, along with a few soda bottles.

“Watch and learn, young padawan,” Wade says theatrically, waggling his nonexistent eyebrows for emphasis. As the self-appointed ‘party planner,’ he’d taken it upon himself to make sure that you and Russell checked off another box on the ‘well-rounded experiences’ list. “If you’re good, I might even let you try a little cocaine later.”

“No,” Piotr says automatically, acting as the self-appointed-but-also-kinda-volun-told adult of the night. “Absolutely not.”

“I was kidding, Russia’s Greatest Love Machine. Geez. I don’t share my coke with anyone.”

Yukio giggles while Neena --who’s only staying for a few hours, citing ‘having an actual life to get back to’ for why she’s leaving early--braids her hair. “So, what do you have planned, Wade?”

“Since when does Wade plan anything?” Ellie fires back, deadpan, while she continues beating Russell in Mario Kart.

“Well, I figured we’d hit all the sleepover staples,” Wade chirps. “A little Truth or Dare, some never have I ever, ooh, maybe some Seven Minutes in Heaven--”

“Several of us are minors, douchepool,” Ellie interjects, still deadpan.

“Okay, not that, then. And, when the night starts to wane, we’ll wrap everything up with a massive movie marathon. First person asleep gets pranked!”

“Nyet.”

“Oh, come on, you silver buzzkill! Pranking the first person to fall asleep is a fundamental part of any sleepover!”

“I would allow it if your pranks weren’t so destructive.”

“Okay, name one thing I’ve destroyed in the past twenty-four hours!”

“We’ll be here longer than a night if he does that, dipshit,” Nathan grumbles; he’s also only hanging around for a short period of time, but unlike Neena, his reason for leaving early amounts to ‘not sleeping in the same damn room as Wilson all night.’

Which, admittedly, given Wade’s tendencies to cuddle like an octopus, makes sense.

“Well, I think it sounds like a blast!” you say.

“Thank you!” Wade cheers. “Finally! You think I’d get more respect, considering this is my fucking franchise!”

You can’t help but laugh as Piotr cuts Wade off while Nathan presses his water bottle to his nose, looking endlessly annoyed. New experience or not, tonight was definitely promising to be a fantastic ride.

Truth or dare, as it turns out, is the best game ever to play with Wade Wilson.

First, he thinks of good parameters to keep things from getting boring; case in point, the first rule he establishes is that you can’t pick the same option three times in a row, thus keeping people from sticking to the --arguably safer--truth option for too long.

Second, he actually took the time to write down a bunch of suggestions from a website beforehand, thus preventing the inevitable ‘everyone’s run out of good ideas’ drudge.

Third, he mandates that all dare must be filmed for posterity’s sake. They can be deleted afterwards, but everything has to be caught on camera and reviewed by the group first.

Which is exactly how you find yourself watching a video of Piotr doing a traditional Cossack dance.

“This is amazing,” you giggle as you send the video to your email account.

Piotr simply shakes his head as he sits back down next to you. “If you say so.”

Things get better from there. You get to watch Ellie do a very flat rendition of ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ --which is funnier than it has any right to be--and watch Russell do a solidly decent lip sync to Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies.’

Funnier still is watching Wade try to bust Neena with truths and dares, only to somehow draw the most benign options from the bowls each time.

“How?” Wade screams when Neena does an effortless set of cartwheels. “I wrote these! There wasn’t even a cartwheel option in there! What sort of fourth wall, author interference bullshit is this?”

“Well, that’s another dare done for me,” Neena says, purposefully cheerful for the sake of pissing off Wade even more. “I guess it’s my turn. Cable --truth or dare?”

Nathan rolls his eyes, mutters something under his breath that is most definitely a string of profanities, and grumbles, “Dare.”

Neena fishes around in the dare bowl before selecting a piece of folded Hello Kitty stationary. “Ask a neighbor if they have a condom you can borrow.”

Ellie lets out a snort. “Do it to Scott. Ask Scott.”

Nathan’s face goes deadly blank --and then his techno-organic eye flares as the corner of his mouth turns up in a vicious grin. “Yeah. Wade, I need your help for this.”

“Hey, you have to ask--”

“I’m asking. I just need you to stand next to me while I do it.”

Ellie practically falls off her air mattress as she cackles. “Fuck yeah. Wait, I’m coming to watch.”

All of you wind up following Nathan to Scott’s room, standing in various positions in the hall while Nathan knocks on the door with his human hand.

(For the record, the look on Scott’s face when Nathan asks him for a condom while Wade waggles his fingers at the bespectacled man is absolutely priceless.)

After that, Truth or Dare is declared ‘done’ on account of the fact that nothing will ever top that moment.

Things detour to a Mario Kart tournament, in which Ellie proves that Neena’s lucky powers have limits.

“This is the best thing ever!” Wade cheers as Neena comes second to Ellie’s first --again. “I take back what I said about you, author! You’re amazing!”

You shoot a confused look at Piotr, and opt to settle back against his side when he shrugs, expression easily confused. “Hey, Wade, you’re good at Mario Kart, right?”

“Well, I don’t want to toot my horn, but my skills in Mario Kart come in second only to my skills at Skee-Ball.”

“Do you think you could beat Ellie?”

Wade’s eyes narrow when Ellie barks out a laugh. “Oh, you think you can win?” He swipes a controller off the coffee table and plops down next to her. “Bring it on, Negasonic Soon-To-Be Loser.”

The match is over sooner than you ever would’ve expected for two reasons.

First: Ellie and Wade decide to jump straight to the hardest option possible --Rainbow Road in Mirror Mode.

Second: No one has the stomach to watch anything on the TV afterwards.

(For the record, Ellie wins, and Wade isn’t happy about it).

Never Have I Ever doesn’t last long, either. Mostly because Wade’s done just about everything anyone can think of, or has had just about everything happen to him.

It does result in some awesome story-telling, though. After a certain point, the game completely tapers off in favor of telling stories entirely. Wade and Neena both have the best, hands down, but Piotr and Yukio come in at a close second thanks to their unique backgrounds and heritages.

You quickly realize, though, that you don’t really have anything worth contributing to the story-time session. There’s nothing from your childhood that’s really worth repeating, and your friends already know everything that’s happened to you here.

Suddenly, you feel completely detached from the room, from your friends, from everything. It’s like someone’s cut the cords keeping you tethered to the world and you’re drifting away from reality.

You get up abruptly, managing a smile and citing some sort of excuse about needing to use the bathroom, and get the fuck out of there.

The bathrooms at Xavier’s, unfortunately, aren’t designed for one person at a time. They’re built like locker room restrooms --albeit much cleaner--with multiple stalls and sinks.

You take the stall furthest from the entry, lock yourself in, tuck your legs up as you sit on the toilet lid, and hope that no one comes looking for you.

You aren’t sure if you want to cry. You can feel the sensation tugging at you --grief, rage, pain--but it seems just as distant as the rec room, numbed by your unwitting ejection from reality.

A larger part of you just wants to disappear for a bit. Slip upstairs, get in bed, hide in the darkness of your room.

They probably wouldn’t even notice I was gone, you think --even your internal voice seems dulled in the face of this sudden shut down. It’s not like I was really contributing anything anyway.

A different part of you doesn’t want to leave your friends, if only because you don’t want to have to explain what’s going on; fuck, you barely even understand it yourself.

That, and they’d probably come looking for you if you did head up to your room, and as much as you love them you just want to vanish right now and get away from the noise that’s always everywhere--

You let your forehead rest against your knees. Fuck. The fuck’s wrong with me?

By the time you manage to uncurl yourself and stand up --and it takes a while if the stiffness in your legs are anything to go by--you’ve made up your mind. I’ll just say I wasn’t feeling well and decided to go to bed if anyone asks tomorrow morning.

You don’t get too far with your plan, though, because Neena and Piotr are waiting for you just outside the bathroom door.

You flinch back, startled. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Neena says with a sunny smile. “I’m heading out for the night. Wanted to make sure I said good-bye.”

The ‘need to disappear’ feeling only gets worse, more grating and jarring, when she wraps her arms around you. Fuck. This is hell. You manage to eek out a ‘good night’ and let out a shaky breath as she walks away.

Because you’re not out of the woods yet. Piotr’s still here, watching you with gentle concern.

He brushes his fingers against your upper arm. “Are you alright, myshka?”

Your brain completely cuts out, leaving you adrift and barely able to stay upright. Talk. Say something, for fuck’s sake!

Instead, you just let out a breath and sag against him.

He kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around your body. “How about we step outside, just for moment? I think fresh air would do you good.”

You let him steer you towards the front door, moving without thought. You suck in a breath when the cool night air hits you, rattling your brain a little from whatever’s come over you.

Piotr, to his credit, doesn’t leave you. He keeps his arms around you, rubs his hands up and down your back, kisses the top of your head, lets you lean against him like he’s the only thing in the world keeping you upright.

He kinda is, if you think about it.

He stays quiet, though, just letting you suck in breath after breath of fresh night air, letting your press your face against his chest and just breathe.

“You gonna ask me what’s wrong?” You ask after a while, voice a little too sharp, a little too acidic in the face of your unwelcome melancholy.

Piotr just kisses the top of your head. “Do you want me to?”

He’s gentle, not passive aggressive in the least, genuinely giving you an out if you don’t want to talk about it.

I don’t deserve him. “I just wanna disappear. Everything feels... like it’s too much.”

“Did not having happy stories from your childhood upset you?”

Bam. Right on the money. Whoever’s said that Piotr Rasputin is an idiot is dead wrong --blindly optimistic at times, yes, but never stupid.

“The fuck am I even contributing to the group?” You let out a bitter laugh. “Shit, I’m such a downer. Can’t enjoy everyone else’s happiness, can’t contribute my own.”

“Nights like these aren’t about equal contribution,” Piotr murmurs as he kisses your forehead. “And it’s okay to be sad that you don’t have similar tales. Besides, not everyone contributed equally. Cable was mostly silent as well, as was Russell.”

You let out a frustrated huff. “Yeah, but --I just-- Piotr, what’s the point of having me around if I can’t keep up with everyone? What’s the point of me being a part of the X-Force if I can’t contribute outside of fights? We’re supposed to be a team --a family.”

Piotr clasps your upper arms gently as he crouches in front of you so you can see his face in the dim light of the moon and the lights from inside the mansion. “Myshka, family means we take ups with downs. You do not have to be happy all the time --especially if something upsets you. And aside from your many valuable skills --and there are many--we keep you around because we want you with us. You, as you are, is enough.”

Your throat constricts at the thought, and you bury your face in his shoulder in an effort to hide your tears. “I just wanna be good enough.”

“You are,” Piotr croons gently in your ear. His arms wrap around you, shielding you from the chill of the night and bathing you in warmth and love. “You are more than good enough, myshka.”

When you finally come down from your grief --pain, anger, sorrow, everything--who knows how much time later, you find that your brain’s turned back on.

Not all the way. But just a little. Just enough.

You slump against Piotr’s shoulder and chest. “I dunno if I wanna go back to the group. I kinda just wanna go back to bed.”

“Do you think that’s what would be best for you?”

“...I don’t know.”

“Khorosho. That’s fine. How about this: come watch one movie with us. If you still want to go to bed after, you can. If not, you stay with group.”

You let out a shaky sigh and nod. “Okay. That works.”

You almost chicken out as you walk towards the rec room. You can feel everything shutting off again, and you don’t want to suck a night of enjoyment away from the group.

But Piotr’s hand is a comforting, solid presence on yours, a tether to reality that you can’t bear to let go off.

The warm light of the rec room almost seems too bright as you step over the threshold, and you grip Piotr’s hand tighter.

Yukio greets you with a bright, sunny smile and pulls you in for a hug. She doesn’t mention your red eyes or puffy cheeks or the fact that you were gone for so long. “We need someone to break a tie on the first movie choice.”

“Listen, Negasonic-My-Name-Won’t-Age-Well, ‘Monty Python and the Holy Grail’ is a literal, actual classic. It deserves to go first.”

“And ‘Get Out’ is both cutting edge and critically acclaimed. I still don’t see you making any points that actually tilt the argument in your favor.”

“Will someone just make a damn decision?” Nathan growls as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

You manage to smile, buoyed by your friends’ enthusiasm, as everyone looks at you. “‘Get Out’ first. I have a feeling we’ll need Monty Python to cheer us all up after.”

“Go to sleep, lyublyu.”

You blink wearily, the images of ‘Robin Hood: Men in Tights’ blurring before your eyes. You’d made it through the first three movies just fine, but you were barely holding on now. “I don’t wanna fall asleep first. Wade’s gonna prank me.”

Piotr lets out a gentle, quiet laugh and points surreptitiously across the room. “I do not think that will be problem.”

You manage to lift your head and clear your vision long enough to see that Wade’s long since passed out, slumped against an equally dead to the world Nathan. “They so like each other.”

Piotr chuckles and tugs you back down against his chest. “Da. Now rest, moya lyubov’. Everything will be fine.”

You lay your head down and finally let your eyes close.

You wake up on the couch alone, carefully tucked under a quilt and head propped up on a pillow.

It doesn’t take too long to figure out where Piotr went thanks to the sounds and smells coming from the kitchen --and the tone deaf humming; Piotr’s many things, but a naturally gifted singer is not one of them.

You sit up and stretch, rolling your shoulders and neck to work out the stiffness that came from not sleeping a proper bed with a proper pillow.

Nathan and Wade are nowhere to be seen; presumably, they’ve gone back to their rooms --or room if Wade managed to invite himself into Nathan’s bed without getting punched.

Ellie, Yukio, and Russell are still asleep on the floor, cushioned by air mattresses and blankets. Russell’s sprawled out like a starfish, and Ellie and Yukio are holding hands even though they’re sleeping on separate mattresses.

There’s a notification on your phone --a text from Neena.

Neener Wiener: Hope you’re feeling better this morning.

And you...

You are feeling better. Not completely, but a little.

It’s something.

You smile to yourself, just a little, and get up to join your boyfriend in the kitchen.

[slashiest-slasher]

How do you think the Dbd killers would react if they were aiming for someone else (like another survivor) but the survivor moved out of the way and they hit their s/o instead so they're s/o was the one that got injured? (if it's too many characters to write for then please let me know and I'll only pick a few)

.oh hoho, it’s angst night is it not?

read more because FUCK is this long

Trapper

- Damn survivors are too squirrelly to hit straight. He was lucky if her even managed to hit one of them in a match by catching them off guard. And this time he thought he had, and he swung after them, but they moved at the wrong god damn time. They looked back bug eyed, and ran. Not injured and yet, he still had hit something.

- You limped away, begging “Evan, please.” He felt bad about it, he tried his best to avoid hitting you for as long as possible, but he would if it came down to you being the last survivor. However, it was only the beginning of the match, and your friend had bolted in the opposite direction.

- He swings again, toppling you over, before picking you up. You’re crying, and screaming, which is pretty normal. Honestly, you act like a brat whenever he does this, because you always think he’s going to hook you. He goes down into the basement, and instead of doing anything, he waits until to wriggle out of his arms, before leaving. You peak around the basement and find that someone left a first aid kit down there.

Wraith

- It’s impossible to tell where where the Wraith is ever going to be, so when you hear his bell clanging, you run. Your run as fast as you can out of the immediate area. You and the survivor you were working on a generator with split up, but you trip. And get hit in the arm, to add insult to injury.

- Phillip immediately drops everything and picks you up, making sure you’re okay, and not too injured to keep on going. He had to kill you, but it’s not like he enjoyed it. He made sure to be careful with you, to minimize your pain. He tears off pieces of cloth, and ties them around your ankle, and the gash on your arm.

- He makes sure you’re able to stand on your feet, and walk on your own without limping. He even walks you to the nearest generator, like a gentleman, before cloaking and leaving to chase down the next survivor he finds.

Hillbilly

- Max tried to be gentle with you as possible. After you two got together, he refused to use the chainsaw on you. The thought of hurting the one person who genuinely cared about scared him greatly. He only hits you hard enough with his hammer to make him stumble, or knock you down, and hangs you by your clothing on the hooks.

- However, he does not show this same mercy to any of the other survivors. In fact, he loves chasing them down with his chainsaw, and hearing their bloodcurdling screams. He has no reason to care about any of them. When he was chasing one of then down through the cornfield, he didn’t realized they had diverged to the left, and instead, he hits you.

- He panics, of course. What else is he supposed to do? He picks you up, jostling you around roughly, and lays you outside of the cornfield. He tries, and fails, to make you feel any better, so he just runs away to go chase down some other survivor, leaving you for someone else to come help up. Outside of the match, he doesn’t let you go, and babbling nonsense that you think are apologies.

Nurse

- Outside of matches, Sally is soft and kind, like she was in life before going insane. She can’t talk, but you know she’s sweet on you, and would never dare of laying a single finger on you without your explicit permission. In matches, she is brutal and twisted, and shows no mercy to anyone, least of all you. However, she regrets hurting you, and makes it up to you outside of matches.

- She had knocked you and another survivor over, and had forgotten about both of you while she chased down someone else. The two of you had met up, and were trying to help each other up, but, well... You know what they say about the blind leading the blind. Sally finds the both of you, and lunges, aiming for the other survivor.

- You push them out of the way, and instead, her hands latch onto you, choking the life out of you, before snapping your neck. When the match is over, and you find her inside of the remains of Crotus Penn asylum, she hugs you so hard you can barely breath. You swear you can hear her crying as she buries her mask covered face into your neck. Once she finally lets go, you hug her again, and tell her you don’t hold it against her. This time, you can see the tears soaking through her mask.

Michael

- Michael was an interesting man to be in a relationship with, if you could even call it that. You knew from the bits and pieces of journals you’ve found that Michael it a killer, through and through, no sense of right or wrong, and yet, he spares you. Even lets you hang around him, and touches you strictly on his terms. He knows killing you outside of matches means you’d be gone for good, so relents then. 

- Inside matches, he holds no qualms about killing you, but he always saves you for last, and stands and watches to the last moment as the entity takes your corpse away. You and another survivor had been hiding in the same upstairs room, so he couldn’t become more powerful while he prowled around. All of a sudden, he turned the corner, and stabbed the closest person, which happened to be you.

- The other survivor slips out and runs while they can, leaving you behind. You really can’t complain much, you would have done the same. You were pinned to the wall by his knife, and as soon as he removes it, you collapse to the floor. He stares at you while wiping the blood off of his knife. Instead of doing anything, he jumps out of the window, and chases down the survivor that slipped away.

Hag

- Lisa like to play cat and mouse with you outside of matches. She likes the games, and chasing you down, and tackling you to the ground. But she would never dare hurt you, and is almost afraid of touching you when you aren’t playing, or in matches. Like you’re this perfect thing that she’s afraid of sullying. She teaches you protective charms that she likes to think help keep you safe, and styles your hair with mud to keep the bugs out of it.

- She’s no different inside of matches, it’s still a game to her, with you at least. She’ll tackle you, and tell you to stay down before bopping her head against yours and leaving. She always loses matches, because she can never bring herself to putting you up on the hook. Even if you’re the last person left, she always let you escape.

- She lunged to get a different survivor, but they moved out of the way at the last God damned second, and she ended up hitting you instead. She cried, screaming, and chases down the survivor the moved out of the way, and kills them as retribution. She can’t face you for the rest of the match, and as usual, lets you leave.

- When you two meet up outside of the match, she immediately strips you down, and checks where she hit you, and upon not even finding a single scar, she is instantly relieved. She doesn’t play with you today, and instead sits with you, and holds your hand.

Herman

- Being hurt or injured around Herman was an inescapable fate. Sometimes, he’d slowly drive you insane, and would hold you until you got better. Other times, he would accidentally zap you, ranging from static to electricity. But he never means any of it, and you know it. It makes for an interesting scenario at the campsite when the other survivors ask why you keep screaming.

- The cramped hallways of Lery Memorial Institutes causes some incidents, however. He never hits with his stick, but instead expects you to willingly let him put you up on the hook. It depends on your mood whether you indulge him or not. When he drives you insane, you don’t get much of a choice. This time, he was aiming at someone else, but they hopped through a window, and you came running up, earning you a smack in the face, knocking you to the ground.

- He carefully picks you up, and hangs you up on the nearest hook, and leaves. When you meet up after the match, he lets you sit in his armchair, and makes you tea as an apology, and bumps his head against your, since he can’t exactly kiss you properly. 

Huntress

- Anna can be a little bit more than rough with you, but that’s just in her nature. She squeezes you too hard during hugs and when she snuggles with you, and tugs you around her home by your arm like you’re a doll. But she would never dare harm you with her weapons. You were the first person who didn’t die, or leave her, so she was going to cherish you with every fiber of her being.

- Her aim, however, is something to be desired. She was aiming through the brush and trees to catch some unlucky survivor with her hatchet, but she didn’t realize that you were following closely behind them, and were knocked down by the hatchet. When she came to collect her prey, and she realized it was you she hit, she screamed, and carried you back off to the cabin, where she left you on the table why she went and slaughtered the other survivors.

- She carried you off to the exit once the rest had either escaped, or were taken care of, and let you escape. Outside of the match, she waited for you eagerly near one of the exits, and scooped you up into her arms, and carried you back to her cabin, where she tended to every single scratch and bruise you had before demanding apology cuddles.

Leatherface

- Bubba is an interesting character, and you find yourself having to wade into the dark to find him, and usually you have to find another killer’s domain when you want to spend any time together, usually Coldwind Farm, since it seems him and the Hillbilly have a sort of truce. And my, is Bubba an absolute gentleman. He doesn’t touch you with explicit permission, lest of all harming a single hair on his head. You’re the only thing he has left, since his family didn’t follow him here, and he treasures you.

- In matches, he still doesn’t hurt you, in fact, he cherishes any time he gets to spend with you, leaving him to be sidetracked. Even forgetting about all the other survivors when he finds you. He had been charging down some other survivor, but ran into a wall, and sufficed to say he threw a bit of a temper tantrum, in the process hitting you. When he realized what he had done, he started blubbering and held you in his arms (even though you were fine, and could still walk).

- He walks you over to the closest survivor he can find, and begs them to make you better (both of you have to stop from snickering at the ridiculous situation), and as soon as you are better, he hugs you and begs for your forgiveness. As soon as you say you do, he kisses your face over and over. Keep this boy happy, he’s a baby.

Freddy Kruger

- Freddy on the other hand? He may find you fun to play with, but in the end he doesn’t care about you. Or so he acts. He likes to leave little scratched on you outside of matches, marks that claimed you as his. And he loved torment you in matches, teasing you, hitting you but not quite killing you. It was all one great game.

- But you knew that, and it was like a game to you, because you knew exactly how to push Freddy’s buttons, and get him riled up. He swore to never kill you outside of matches when you got him going, and he kept up on that promise, no matter how much he wanted to slice your throat for calling him “kiddie strangler”. He rarely even attacked you because of taunting in matches.

- This time, you were working on a generator with another survivor, unaware of his presence, calling him a hot slice of beef jerky. Then the survivor called him kiddie strangler too, and it was all over from there. He goes to swipe at the other survivor, but they notice, and roll out of the way, and you get a chest full of claws instead. He shakes his head, says something about being too slow, and hangs you up in the basement. Just another day for the two of you.

sorry, I’m not familiar enough with amanda to write her yet.

[oisugasuga]

Karma is a witch

Read below the cut

"… well, fu-," is all Oikawa hears before there’s a loud pop and a plume of plum-colored smoke from across the room.

Or, more specifically, across the room where his boyfriend had been standing two seconds ago.

The interruption had cut off what had been a steady, soft stream of Latin, familiar and comforting against Oikawa’s ears, and now the silence is only broken by a fit of coughing from the same location of the purple cloud that hovers ominously in the air.

"Kou?" Oikawa calls out, setting the candy-colored vials he had been organizing to the side on the black marble table he’s perched at, squinting to see through the haze. He nudges his tortoiseshell glasses higher up the bridge of his nose with the tip of an index finger.

The lamps situated at odd intervals around the room had been turned down a few hours earlier by Suga, who claimed he couldn’t practice his magic properly in bright fluorescents. It throws the entire basement into a half-world of mellow, honey-colored light that pools thickly across the stone floor and outlines the curling tips and tendrils of the various plants they have growing from every spare surface, painting emerald and sapphire and rose with gold.

It also makes it very hard to see properly, even when the smoke - which smells strangely like cardamom - clears a little.

"Fucking hell," Oikawa hears Suga curse. His voice emanates strangely from the opposite side of the basement, sounds tinny and off and oddly youthful, higher-pitched and softer.

Oikawa stands up, his stool screeching behind him, circles the table and brushes past a few hanging bundles of heavyweight wisteria until he’s closer to the center of the room.

"Koushi," he says again, shivering because the floor is cold against his bare feet and he’s only wearing a thin, worn t-shirt and sweatpants, waving a hand through the air to clear some of the fog.

It’s a normal Friday night. The two of them, tucked away down in the basement of the tiny coffee shop they co-own, taking some time in their busy schedules to fall back into the magic they’ve both grown up with, the magic that runs through their blood and links them to the long, rich history of witchcraft that lingers deep down in their bones.

The winter solstice is coming up, a few weeks away now, and both Oikawa and Suga have been working tirelessly to prepare for the celebrations, to bring their own gifts to the annual gathering.

Oikawa knows that Suga prefers the summer solstice, the bonfires and the dancing and splashing out into the ocean, giddy with laugher, sand in his hair and saltwater on his lips when Oikawa kisses him and drags him under the waves.

But Oikawa personally prefers winter solstice, loves wandering the forest as the sun sinks below the horizon in a fiery explosion, smelling the cloves and apples that are stacked around the fires with careful precision, the sharp, fresh scent of the piles of evergreen boughs, adores the beautiful, curling vines of ivy that decorate the houses and the bundles of mistletoe that hang from bright red strings.

There have been a few mishaps along the way in the past few weeks of preparation, little accidental mispronunciations in spells, or an ingredient measured out wrong by half a teaspoon, done in the rush of things, but they had been easy to fix, nothing major.

But this… the smoke is taking longer to clear than usual and Suga sounds weird and Oikawa is a little concerned at this point.

"Babe," Oikawa says, sidestepping the mismatched pots of honeysuckle, their ivory petals stretching up to the ceiling, and wading farther into the haze. He’s getting close enough to finally make out the faint glint of starlight hair, although it seems a little too low to the ground, as if Suga is sitting on the flagstone. "What happened? Did you use too much rosewater again? You know it does funny things to the-"

Oikawa meets very familiar hazel eyes before he can finish his sentence, glaring up at him through thick lashes- about three and a half feet off the ground.

"Oh. My. God." Oikawa deadpans.

"Don’t." the child in front of Oikawa warns, holding up a chubby finger. "Say. Anything."

Oikawa blinks and stares, tries furiously to ignore the steadily building fizz of laughter that’s swelling in his chest, keeps his face completely straight.

Suga has somehow reverted back to being five years old - well, physically at least.

That’s the only explanation for the tiny human being in front of Oikawa. The tiny human being that has Suga’s doe eyes and his star fire hair and that dangerous glint in his eyes when he’s angry.

"I said, don’t say anything," Suga growls, his voice that of a child’s and yet still just as intimidating, and the ridiculous combination causes Oikawa’s facade to slip a little, a grin barely tilting his lips up as he desperately struggles to hold onto his composure.

"I didn’t," he defends half-heartedly, clamping his lips closed again, hysteria bubbling up the back of his throat when Suga’s large eyes narrow further, plump cheeks giving him the air of a very pissed off cherub.

"I can see it on your face," Suga complains, little hands curling into adorable fists at his sides. "You want to laugh."

"Hmmm," Oikawa hums because if he opens his mouth to speak, it’ll be over. He presses his lips harder together as the shit-eating grin that threatens to break out over his face grows stronger.

Suga pouts, silver hair, that looks so soft and curves in gentle curls around his ears, falling into his eyes, that unmistakable beauty mark that paints his skin just visible in this lighting.

He looks like one of the pretty dolls Takeru loves to play with, Oikawa thinks vaguely. And then he can’t help but grin because this is Suga, his strong, gorgeous boyfriend who - more than Oikawa likes to admit - can beat him in arm wrestling without batting an eyelash, for God’s sake. Not some play doll with miniature clothes and porcelain parts and glassy eyes.

Speaking of clothes, somehow Suga’s have shrunk to fit him, cladding him in child-size dark-wash jeans and a bright yellow hoodie, even little socks.

Oikawa’s smile widens.

"Shut up!" Suga yells in his tiny, little baby voice even though Oikawa hasn’t breathed a word.

He’s actually very proud of himself for how well he’s kept his composure so far, but when Suga stomps his foot in an absolutely perfect rendition of a child throwing a tantrum, Oikawa can’t help it.

He loses it. Starts laughing so hard he can’t breathe within seconds, eyes tearing up, both hands clutching at his ribs.

"Oh my God," Oikawa gasps out. "Kou, babe, what the fuck-"

Suga kicks him.

Just walks straight up to Oikawa, the top of his head barely reaching Oikawa’s thighs, and kicks him straight in the right shin with one small foot.

"Ow," Oikawa whines, laughter dying down immediately, different tears welling up in his eyes.

"Do it again," Suga says calmly, smiling sweetly up at Oikawa with his head tilted all of the way back, "and I’ll be sure to aim a little higher next time."

Oikawa crinkles his nose in a pout.

He’s never been this torn between wanting to kick Suga back and coo over how absolutely, perfectly adorable he is with his rosy cheeks and shining eyes and soft, little baby voice - even if his boyfriend is currently threatening to take a very low road.

It’s like Oikawa simultaneously wants to sit on Suga and wrap him in a blanket burrito to cuddle on the couch upstairs.

"Sorry," Oikawa settles on mumbling, eyeing Suga’s tiny fingers warily and wondering if his hands would still pack as much of a punch as they usually do.

Suga hums, still grinning with spine-tingling intensity, lips curved with saccharine falsity.

Oikawa wants to pinch his cheeks.

"Now," Suga says, voice dripping honey, "you’re going to have to drive me to Semi’s so I can fix this."

Oikawa wonders what Semi is going to say when they see Suga. He can already see the scowl on their face, the irritated tapping of flawless, black-painted nails on the translucent glass countertop in their kitchen, surrounded by their herbs and chunks of crystal and sparkling, sparking balls of witch light that they had enchanted to hover at various heights in the air.

Honestly, Oikawa isn’t sure when Semi sleeps. They’re always up and about, responsible for helping the other witches in the community with spells and potions gone wrong, their gorgeous Egyptian Mau constantly perched on one of their shoulders, all glowing bright eyes and glossy, dark fur.

He knows they always manage to find the solution to everyone’s problems though, despite the sleep deprivation. Turning Suga back will probably be a cinch, even if it might be a bit tedious.

Oikawa smirks. Imagining Suga trying to drive with those chubby, short legs is incredibly amusing and Oikawa isn’t feeling very sympathetic at the moment, not when Suga practically asked for trouble with that kick.

The ache in Oikawa’s shin only makes his grin more wicked, the edges of his mouth curling up slyly.

"Or," Oikawa hums thoughtfully, backing up away from Suga as he speaks, tapping an index finger agains his chin mockingly, "I could keep you like this until Takeru’s birthday passes next week. I’m sure he’d love a real-life, walking, talking doll that looks just like his beloved Uncle Koushi for a day. I’d be the uncle of the year-"

Oikawa breaks off with a half-laugh, half-screech as child-Suga, whose face is a lovely shade of cerise now, eyebrows pulled together in a scowl, charges him, whirling around to sprint up the stairs that lead to the coffeeshop, ducking on instinct as a vial of violet, powdered wolfsbane mixed with honey sails past his head a half-second later.

He doesn’t get very far.

Needless to say, Oikawa ends up driving Suga to Semi’s, a pack of frozen pees clutched between his legs with one hand while he drives with the other.

[continuitygains]

Sleeping in Bathtubs

The beautiful artwork is by the amazing and talented @jaimistoryteller​!! <3

Summary: Feeling lonely in his new apartment and needing some normality, Peter starts fostering kittens. It ends up becoming therapeutic for not only him but all of the Avengers and a certain mercenary.

'Peter pulled one of the kittens close to his chest and kissed her head. "They're so relaxing," he said, his voice breaking through the silence. Wade nodded in agreement, but didn't take his eyes off of the gray kitten that had settled into his lap and was blinking sleepily.'

Tags: Fluff, Minor Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Cat Cuddles

Word Count: 5004

Rating: Teen and Up

(Written for the Spideypool Big Bang @spideypoolfanfic​)

Read on AO3

As he walked to the shelter, Peter felt like he might throw up. Good Lord, he felt almost as nervous as he had when he was joining the Avengers. Why had he thought this would be a good idea? He knew that he’d had a lot of downtime lately, especially with his new job as Tony’s intern and the sudden lull in crime, but he didn’t know if he’d have enough free time to give this cat and her kittens the attention and socialization that they deserved.

He’d first seen the flyer when he was walking back home after a long day of going over schematics for Tony’s new invention. It was in the window of a small animal shelter, and loudly proclaimed in Comic Sans, ‘FOSTER HOMES WANTED!’ for dogs and cats in the shelter. 

Peter had lingered in front of it, rereading the details a few times before continuing on his way.

It wasn’t until he’d walked by the shelter five days in a row that he gave into temptation and went inside, asking the chipper woman behind the desk about fostering animals. A half hour’s worth of paperwork and a home check was all it took for Peter to be in this situation now, almost a week later, ready to pick up a mother and her kittens.

Next to the shelter’s front desk was a large crate with his name written on a sticky note on top of it. There wasn’t much movement, and when Peter crouched down to look inside, he was greeted by wary green eyes and four sleeping kittens snuggled up next to their mother. His heart melted.

He chatted with one of the volunteers for a few minutes, hearing what she said about their personalities and going over the paperwork. He thanked her, and then started the walk back home.

The walk only gave him more time to start freaking out. Every time he shifted the crate a bit more than usual or heard an annoyed meow, his blood pressure spiked and the nervousness grow.

After what felt like hours, Peter was finally in his apartment. He gingerly set the cats down—who were now awake and making restless noises in the crate—and rushed to take off his shoes and jacket. When he dropped his bag, he picked the crate back up, making soothing noises at them, and took them into the bathroom, closing the door leading to his bedroom and the hallway before sitting down and opening the cage.

He curled and uncurled his toes in anticipation as he waited for the cats to come out.

The mother cat’s gray head slowly peeked out, wide eyes darting around the room and searching for any sort of danger, lingering on Peter. A kitten came tumbling out, blinking and looking around as well.

Peter couldn’t look away as he watched the mother and the kittens emerge from the crate. He made sure to pet the mother first so she knew him, and made sure she could see what he was doing as he picked up one of the kittens and held it to his chest. Peter felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest as he stared in wonder at the almost unbelievably small face blinking owlishly at him.

His ass and back hurt from sitting on the tiled floor, but he was unwilling to disturb the curious kittens that were crawling on his legs and up his Hoodie. He was as still as a statue, letting them explore and tug at a loose thread on his pants.

Later that night, after Peter had eaten his dinner and finished responding to a few emails for his job, he couldn’t help but fret over the kittens and their mother. Logically, he knew that they would be fine to sleep alone, and if something happened, he’d be able to hear it from his bed. But he couldn’t stop tossing and turning in his bed, staring at the ceiling and startling every time there was any sort of suspicious noise in the bathroom.

Finally, he gave up. He stuffed two pillows under his arms and grabbed a few blankets before going into the bathroom. He made a makeshift bed in the bathtub, and settled down to spend the night.

It took a while to find a position that was comfortable, but almost all thoughts of the discomfort left as the sounds of purring filled the air. Peter propped himself up enough to see the mother and her kittens in their bed, all of them curled up. The kittens were lined up like sardines, nursing and kneading.

His chest was lighter than it’d ever been. The tension that usually ran through his body was gone, and the usual jitteriness that lingered in his limbs was nowhere to be felt. It even felt like his thoughts were lethargic, his brain not racing a million miles a minute to try and plan out everything he needed to do. He was able to just focus on the little rumbling purrs coming from the kittens and the mother’s gentle, slow blinks.

After only moments, his eyes started to droop, and then he fell into a deep sleep.

***

He knew that his secret wouldn’t be a secret forever, and a few days later, he had Clint and Natasha waiting on his doorstep expectantly.

“We heard you had cats of the kitten variety,” Clint said expectantly.

Peter blinked at them, sleepiness making his thoughts fuzzy. “Uh, yeah,” he stammered, opening the door wider. “Come on in.”

It was surreal having the two put-together and deadly assassins sitting on his living room floor and allowing kittens to climb over them. And one of them had pulled out little toys for the kittens out of nowhere and the cats were going crazy over them. It ended with all four of them piled in Natasha’s lap, sleeping soundly, while she stared down at them with a satisfied expression.

“She has a thing for kittens,” Clint said, cuddling the mother cat and kissing her cheeks.

Bruce was the next person to come by, and he had the decency to send a text asking if it was alright to come over. He even brought donuts and coffee and immediately became Peter’s new favorite. The kittens shied away from him at first, skittering under the couch when he tried to pick one of them up.

“It’s alright,” Bruce said with a wan smile when Peter tried to come up with a reason for their sudden strange behavior. “Animals take a while to warm up to me sometimes because of the other guy.”

After a while, one of the kittens gathered his courage and went sniffing at Bruce’s hand. The others were quick to follow after that, tugging at his shoelaces and biting at his fingers. The joyful grin on Bruce’s face melted Peter.

Tony didn’t come to visit—which Peter couldn’t blame him for, with how swamped the man had been with his company and projects. It was definitely a surprise, though, when he opened his door one morning to find an equally confused delivery man with three large boxes filled with cat toys, food, and one of the most elaborate cat trees he had ever seen.

Steve hesitantly approached him while he was in the Tower, after a mission. His eyes were hopeful as he quietly asked if he and Bucky could come over the next day for breakfast and to see the kittens. Peter had hastily agreed (who could say no to Captain America when he was giving them that look?), and spent the next day scrubbing his house from top to bottom to make it presentable.

Bucky and Steve came over, the former looking as gaunt as ever and constantly looking around for any sort of danger. He eyed Peter warily, staying close to Steve, but still entered the apartment and sat down on the edge of the couch.

“So, uh, I can go grab ‘em now,” Peter said after an awkward silence. “Do you, uh, want one at a time or all at once? I can bring the mom, too.”

“Maybe we should start with one,” Steve said, shining his trademark smile. “Just to get a feel of them.”

Peter nodded, and headed back to his bedroom. He already knew he was going to take little Stuart—he was the sweetest and chubbiest of the kittens, and was already shaping up to be a wonderfully lazy and cuddly cat.

Steve immediately took to the kitten, holding him and scratching him behind the ears. Stuart lapped up the attention, head lolling back and eyes closing in bliss as a rumbling purr started up in his chest.

“Oh, he’s so sweet,” Steve gushed, planting a kiss on the kitten’s face. He turned to Bucky, who’d been standing stiffly next to him. “Do you wanna hold him?”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Steve was already handing Stuart off to him. Steve and Peter held their breaths, wondering what Bucky was going to do.

The kitten meowed, annoyed at the lack of pets, and climbed further up Bucky’s chest, supported by his human hand. He sniffed Bucky’s chin before headbutting it, purring once again.

There was a collective sigh of relief as a faint smile grew on Bucky’s face.

***

Somehow, it became a thing. An Avenger would drop by at random intervals, sometimes even just letting themselves into the house, to play with the kittens. Peter regularly got texts from Natasha and Bruce demanding pictures, and when Peter had to spend nights swinging through the city, Tony would pick up the kittens and their mother and take them to the tower, announcing that the kiddos were spending the night with their uncle.

It was something that Peter wouldn’t have expected in a million years, but it was…cute. At least the kittens were getting properly socialized.

***

Peter wasn’t privy to the details of the mission, but he knew that it was a rough one. Clint looked numb as he entered the Tower, and didn’t acknowledge anyone as he wandered into his room. Peter knew he would be overstepping his boundaries by going after him, especially when Natasha was already making her way after him.

It wasn’t until he was getting ready to leave did he find Wade sitting in the hallway, hunched over with his head in his hands.

Peter paused, uncertain if he should approach Wade. The two of them had something of a complex relationship, and there was no denying that Peter had been a hardcore asshole for the first few months that they knew each other. After being thrown together for numerous assignments, though, Peter begrudgingly started to respect the mercenary, and traded jokes with him as a friendship started to form.

Ah, what the hell. Peter might as well try to talk to the man. Wade would do the same for him.

Wade didn’t acknowledge Peter as he came up, nor when he sat down next to him. He carefully watched Wade and tried to make his movements and presence obvious (the last thing he needed was a bullet in the shoulder from startling such a deadly man).

“Hey, you okay man?” Peter said lamely.

Wade kept his head bowed, but lifted a hand to give him an unenthusiastic thumbs up. He exuded a depressive mood, and seemed content to stay silent, which was one of the most off-putting things Peter had ever had the displeasure to experience.

Peter’s brow furrowed as he tried to decide what to do. He didn’t really know what would cheer the man up. Going out for pizza or a coffee? No, Wade didn’t really like going out in public, and the last thing he needed was to be stared at by a bunch of strangers. Maybe some video games in the Avenger’s living room? That might’ve been a good idea, if Thor hadn’t destroyed the Wii and other consoles during an intense game of Mario Kart.

There was one thing, though…

Peter stood up suddenly. “Wanna know a secret?” he asked.

Wade blinked and looked up at Peter, not fully comprehending. “I always wanna know secrets,” he said.

Peter nodded decisively. “Go put on some regular clothes,” he said. Wade still looked confused, but still nodded and stood up, wandering to the SHIELD locker rooms.

When Wade was dressed in civilian clothes and had his face hidden under a hat, Peter started leading him on the winding way back to his apartment. Wade nagged and whined about not knowing where he was going, but Peter could tell that he was only putting on a show, the protests seeming lackluster and with no meaning behind them.

It wasn’t until they were in Peter’s apartment and Peter was taking off his shoes that the situation seemed to pierce through the fog in Wade’s mind.

“Is…is this your apartment?”

Peter nodded, and Wade looked awed. “Holy crap,” he said. “I’m in Spider-man’s house.”

Peter snorted, shaking your head fondly. “Take off your shoes and jacket,” he ordered. “And try to be quiet.”

Wade obediently toed off his shoes, but stage whispered, “Why do I need to be quiet?”

Holding a finger up to his lips for emphasis, Peter led Wade through the house and towards the bathroom.

“Uh, baby boy, why are we going to the bathroom?”

“Shh.”

Peter could already hear the kittens meowing on the other side of the door, having heard him moving around. He could see Wade’s brow furrowed in confusion, and the way his eyes bulged out when Peter opened the door and saw the little fluffballs that Peter kept at bay with his leg.

“Kittens?”

The mother cat hissed in the corner, and Peter smacked Wade’s arm lightly, giving him a pointed look. Wade looked chagrined, closing his mouth into a thin line. Peter helped him finagle their way into the bathroom, making sure the door was closed behind them.

“You can sit there,” Peter said, motioning to one of the pillows against the wall.

Wade sat down, and his breath hitched when a kitten pounced on his leg. He clutched at his chest, making Peter chuckle.

“I didn’t know you had kittens,” Wade said, carefully petting the ginger kitten that approached him.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled, scratching the mother cat behind her ears. “I, uh, started fostering kittens for a local animal shelter. They…they really help me calm down after I’ve been on a bad mission, or I’m feeling down. They don’t really let you get stuck in your thoughts for long, because they’ll start knocking things over and biting on things.”

Wade gave Peter a blank look that quickly morphed into something else, something a lot sadder and emotional. He picked up two of the kittens and buried his face in their soft fur, hiding from Peter’s understanding look. Peter didn’t say anything, allowing him to have his moment as he watched the other two kittens start wandering over to their mother to feed. He pressed his shoulder into Wade’s side in silent support.

“They’re about to start nursing, if you wanna see that,” Peter said, tugging on Wade’s sleeve lightly. “Plus, those two are gonna get pissy if they don’t get their meal.”

Wade let the other two go, and they immediately went to their mother, fighting for a spot against her stomach for a teat. After a few moments of fussing, they were all content in their spots, and their mother had cleaned them to her satisfaction. Peter felt a curl of happiness when he saw Wade’s jaw drop as the cacophony of purring started.

“This is heaven,” Wade said numbly, staring at the scene in front of them. He let out a muffled squeal when he saw their small paws kneading the mother’s stomach.

Peter chuckled, straightening out his legs in front of him. “Yeah, it’s really amazing, isn’t it?”

They sat in silence, watching the mother and her kittens. She was blinking slowly, watching her children.

Peter swallowed nervously. “You’re welcome to come here whenever you want,” he blurted out, feeling his entire face flush. “I mean, it’s good for the kittens to meet new people, and they can really switch your mood around. Kitten therapy.” He let out a nervous laugh that had the mother cat giving him an annoyed glance.

“I wouldn’t wanna intrude,” Wade said hesitantly. “I know that it’s nice having your space being your space, and I don’t wanna get on another’s person bad side.” Peter hated the bitterly sad tone in the mercenary’s voice.

“I like your company,” Peter said softly.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Wade’s face start to redden, but neither of them acknowledged it.

“That sounds like a lie, but okay,” Wade said jokingly.

After more silence, Wade made an aborted movement before giving in and shifting to the side. His head came and rested on Peter’s shoulder, but he refused to rest too much of his weight on the other man, instead practically hovering. When Peter rested his own head on Wade’s, the mercenary let out a shuddering breath and sagged into Peter’s side.

***

The kittens grew bigger and bigger with each passing week, and Peter fell into his new routine. They were big enough now that he opened the door connecting the bathroom and his bedroom to give them more room to run around. Every other night or so (he’d shake it up sometimes—no need for the criminals to catch onto his schedule) he would go out as Spider-man, and the rest of the time he would spend in Tony’s workshop, or in his apartment with the cats.

He hadn’t heard much from Wade after their intimate moment, but he’d heard from a passing agent that he’d been assigned to another intense mission. He’d asked a casual question to Clint about it (it wasn’t casual, judging from the archer’s expression), and a wide grin had grown over his face before he ran off, shouting loudly that Peter had a crush on Deadpool.

A wrestling match and numerous threats later, Clint gasped out that he’d leave the topic be, and Peter helped him out of the cocoon of webbing. Unfortunately for Peter, pretty much all of the Avengers had heard, and he knew it wasn’t going to die that easily.

Peter groaned, running his hands through his hair and making it stick up more than normal. He’d just returned from an exhaustive night of being Spider-man, that had contained way too many crimes than was appropriate for a Monday night, thank you very much. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to take a shower and then pass out on his bed with the cats, and he was quick to follow through with his plan.

Peter hadn’t been asleep for more than a couple hours when there was a heavy banging on his door that had him and the cats startling. He immediately jumped to his feet, tense and wary as he made it to the door, heart already beating faster and muscles tensing for a fight.

“Pete?” Wade’s voice filtered through the door. “It’s me.”

Peter let out a deep breath and undid the lock chain, pulling the door open. The lights in the hallway hid any details, but Peter could see the familiar outline of the mercenary, lounging against his door frame.

“Jesus, Wade,” Peter huffed, finally getting his glasses on. He fumbled in the dark to reach the light switch. “You nearly gave me a heart attack…” His voice trailed off as he finally was able to take in the gruesome details of Wade.

Wade’s eyes were more than a little crazed as he let out a hysterical giggle. “I was wondering if I could get some of that kitten therapy you were advertising a couple of weeks ago,” he said, not acknowledging the numerous slashes and bullet holes in his suit.

Peter’s breath hitched when Wade shifted, and he could see all of the blood that was caked on his suit and skin. There were fresh, pink lines and dots, showing where the skin was still knitting itself back together from whatever fight Wade had just come from.

“Take a shower first,” Peter said, forcing himself to sound calm. “I don’t want blood on my furniture.”

Wade wheezed a laugh, pushing himself off of the doorframe and staggering into the apartment. “Yeah, it’s a major bitch to get out of things. I gave up years ago—that’s why I wear red and black. You can’t see the blood stains. Very handy. Is that why you do it? It’s pretty smart, when you think about it.”

Peter let Wade continue babble on as he locked the door and led Wade into the bathroom, making appropriate noises when the one-sided conversation called for it. Luckily, the kittens were all in the bedroom, so he was able to close the adjoining door before they came in and started clawing up Wade’s suit.

“Shower first, and then you can have a kitten,” Peter said when Wade started to protest. He leaned into the tub and turned on the shower, making sure the temperature was bearable. “No buts. If you think getting blood out of furniture and clothes is hard, imagine getting it out of a bunch of squirmy kitten fur.”

He’d meant his words to be a joke, but it seemed to take Wade to a completely different headspace. The mercenary’s smile turned strained and his eyes tight.

“M-maybe I should just go,” Wade said abruptly, turning and twisting the door open. He hadn’t put his shirt back on, choosing to let it land with a splat on the tiled flooring.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there, bud,” Peter exclaimed, jogging so he was able to get between Wade and the door. “What’s wrong? You were so excited to see them a few seconds ago, and now you’re freakin’ out.”

“Oh, I just remembered that I, uh, left some laundry in the washing machine,” Wade said, voice bordering on shrill. “We can do this again, uh, never? Probably never.”

“Why?” Peter frowned, moving when Wade tried to get around him. “Don’t you wanna see the kittens?”

“I don’t think—“ Wade stopped talking and let out a deep breath. “I don’t wanna hurt them,” he finally muttered, voice trembling. “I shouldn’t be around them. I can’t.”

Peter’s heart ached at the raw pain in Wade’s voice. “C’mon, dude, you aren’t gonna hurt them,” he said softly. He cautiously stepped forward before reaching and taking ahold of Wade’s hand. “You love them, and they love you. If I think you’re getting too rough with them, I’ll stop you. Do you think I’d let you hurt them?”

Wade was still tense, his jaw set and eyes wide. He let out a shuddering breath, slowly relaxing his shoulders. He grudgingly allowed Peter to lead him back to the bathroom, where the shower was still running and was warmed up.

“Do you need help getting your suit off?” Peter asked, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as Wade stood in the center of the bathroom.

The mercenary still seemed lost as he looked around. “N-no, I got it,” he said, voice trailing off as he unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the ground before wrangling with his boots.

He turned his back to Wade to give him some privacy, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. He heard the swish of the shower curtain as the mercenary stepped into the spray. Peter called out to him that he’d be in the bedroom, and the man grunted out an acknowledgement.

Peter rummaged around in the back of his closet and dresser for any clothes that would fit Wade, all the while pushing kittens away and stopping them from climbing up his pants leg. He was rewarded with some sweatpants and a T-shirt that would be a tight fit, but would work.

Peter went to knock on the bathroom door but hesitated. Through the door, he thought he could hear some sniffling. He silently stepped away from the door and went back to his bed, sitting down on the corner. It would do Wade some good to let out his feelings with some crying, and Peter refused to interrupt it.

In the meantime, he would just wait and play with the kittens. It wasn’t a bad trade-off, all things considered.

After what felt like ages, the shower turned off, and Wade came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. Despite the numerous old scars that were crisscrossing his body, he didn’t seem to be in any new pain, much to Peter’s relief. Wade’s face was twisted into a sour scowl, though.

“I ran out of hot water,” he grumbled. “Your apartment has crappy plumbing.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to take it up with the landlord after he fixes the ten thousand other things wrong with the apartment. Those are for you, by the way.”

He gestured with his head at where the mother cat was lounging across the pile of clothes. Wade grimaced and awkwardly tried to shoo her away. She let out an annoyed sound but gracefully jumped off the bed to find a new spot to sleep.

Peter’s heart skipped a beat as Wade shamelessly dropped the towel and started to get dressed. He turned his head away, and reflexively moved the kitten in his arms so she was also facing away.

“Wait,” Wade gasped, making Peter whip around in alarm. His eyes bulged and he looked around the room, thankfully fully-dressed. “Am I in Spider-man’s bedroom?”

“Yes, you are,” Peter deadpanned, his shoulders relaxing. “Take in the majesty of it all: the unmade bed, the cracks in the wall, the dirty plates by the bed, everything. I’m sure it’s marvelous.”

“You actually have a TV in your room?”

“I’m an adult. I can do what I want, Wade.”

Wade snorted, shaking his head. That flash of his old self seemed to fade fast, and he was back to his kicked puppy look. He stood by the bed uncertainly, glancing around.

“Come sit down,” Peter urged, shimmying backwards so his back was against the headboard and he could straighten the blankets. “C’mon.”

Wade slowly sat down, stiff as a board next to Peter. The other man was getting the distinct feeling that Wade was about to make some excuse to leave, and was quick to deposit his kitten into Wade’s arms.

Wade’s eyes widened slightly, scratching the small thing under her chin. He tilted his head down to look at the kitten that was determined to make his way to Wade’s face. He gave the kitten a soft smile that Peter couldn’t remember ever seeing him wear, and he was surprised at the way he felt something build in his chest.

They both stayed quiet as Peter switched the television on, keeping the volume low. The kittens were beginning to tire again and all started finding little nooks and crannies to sleep in. The one on Wade’s chest fell asleep curled into a ball, and another two had found places draped over Peter’s thighs. The fourth was pressed against his mother’s stomach, the two of them sleeping in the cat bed in the corner.

Peter kept sending discreet glances in Wade’s direction, but never made eye contact with the man. Wade seemed focused on absently toying with the kitten’s little paw and watching the television, the tension slowly starting to bleed from his shoulders.

“I, uh, can leave whenever you want me to,” Wade said at one point, his voice cracking through the silence.

Peter pointedly looked down at the kitten. “It’s illegal for you to move right now,” he said with a teasing smile. “You’re not allowed to even think about moving when there’s a kitten sleeping on you. You gotta pee? Too bad, there are kittens on you. Such is the life of a cat lover.”

That managed to get another semblance of a smile from Wade, who settled further into the bed, kicking the blankets over his legs. He ended up halfway on Peter’s pillow, head resting by Peter’s shoulder as he settled further into the bed. He heaved a sigh, and the last of the tension in his body was gone.

It was only natural that his head came to rest properly on his shoulder, and for Peter’s hand to creep closer to his until their fingers were entangled. Slowly but surely, they started peeking at each other when the other wasn’t look. Their eyes met, and they didn’t look away.

Peter swallowed reflexively, filled with trepidation. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

Wade’s eyes glanced down to Peter’s lips, making his heart jump in his chest. The mercenary gave a short, jerky nod, and Peter moved forward without any further ado and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. As soon as they touched, the nervousness melted away from both of them, shoulders sagging and held breaths let out.

When their kissing grew more heated, Peter scooted closer to Wade. He made a move to pull himself into Wade’s lap, but froze when one of the kitten unceremoniously rolled fell off of his lap and let out a loud, long screech of annoyance.

They broke away, looking at each other before bursting out in laughter. Peter picked the kitten up as Wade finally found his confidence and pulled the other man closer with an arm around his shoulders, letting him cuddle into his side. The other kitten that had been sleeping on Peter grew jealous and purposefully walked up to sleep stretched out across them.

“Is this what it’s like having children?” Peter joked, kissing the kitten on his chest.

Wade chuckled, nosing Peter’s hair before kissing his temple. “We’ll have to drop them off at the babysitter’s for some alone time,” he joined in, grinning proudly when Peter snorted with laughter. Both of their cheeks flushed after a few moments, but neither said anything.

“Does this mean I’m allowed to ask you out on a date now?” Wade blurted out. “Like, a proper date. Real fancy. Maybe not in a restaurant because, y’know, face, but we could still figure something out. Steal some nice silverware and a tablecloth from Stark and take it to a diner, maybe some candles.”

Peter snorted. “Don’t steal from my boss,” he chided him, reaching over and snatching up the remote. “Tell me what you want to watch, or I’m putting on Chopped.”

“I think I’m in love.”

[sweetnestor]

You Look Happier | Chapter 14

university au, teamiplier + jack

platonic/romance/angst/smut <-- read the sin on ao3 ;p

previous chapter

Friday was PAX day one. You would think I’d be the one doing panels and meetups, given the amount of nerves I was feeling. I woke up from a shitty sleep, and the only reason why I got up was because I saw the sun peeking through the curtains. That, and Ethan’s sleeping face was too comical.

Thankfully, things weren’t tense with us after my plane adventure. He was too sweet about it, which made me feel guilty. I really didn’t deserve someone like him. Even while sober, I got emotional over how much better I felt recently. I mean, despite the plane ride. The only difference was that I could push down the unnecessary tears for another time. I had to get ready for the day.

As soon as I started moving around in bed, Ethan stirred in his sleep. His arms went around my waist and pulled me back in before I could make my escape. He held me in a side hug, nosing my neck and humming contently.

“Hi there,” I greeted, amused by his sudden moves.

“Hello,” he sleepily mumbled as he scooted closer to me. “You didn’t let me cuddle last night.”

“Oh, really?” I asked, genuinely confused. I knew I had fallen asleep before him, I just didn’t think I’d push him away. Even in my sleep, I had intimacy issues. “Um… oops.”

He chuckled and kissed my shoulder. Then, he kissed my cheek. “It’s okay.”

Blushing, I turned so I was facing him. “I’m just not used to sleeping next to such a pretty guy.” I smiled as I stroked his cheek, down to his neck, and then his shoulder.

That was when I noticed he was shirtless. I had never seen him shirtless before. It was far more intimate than it should have been. My eyes trailed down his body and well… I was, for lack of a better word, shook.

“Since when do you have abs?” I blurted out, feeling all sorts of things.

“Um…” Ethan laughed nervously. “Since… always? I think?”

I glanced up at him, noticing how red his cheeks had gotten. A smirk etched on my face and I trailed my hand down his body.

“You’re so hot,” I said in a sultry tone, my fingers touching the waistband of his sweatpants. “You know that?”

Ethan didn’t say anything at first. I leaned in closer to him, trailing my fingers from his stomach around to his back.

“A-Am I?” he finally spoke, his voice soft and timid.

Oh my god, it was so endearing.

“Mhm,” I replied as I leaned in to kiss the crook of his neck. I felt him take in a deep breath, so I kept going.

I kissed up and down his neck as I felt up his body. Ethan's breathing got deeper and quicker the more I kissed around his skin. He tightened his grip on my waist, and then trailed his hands to my butt. Just from our bodies pressing together, I knew he was very eager and excited. I wondered if this was what he wanted to happen before I inevitably fell asleep on him.

~

We ended up running a little late to Jack’s panel. I managed to pull off a no foundation look and keep my hair in a high ponytail, fixing some strays along the way. We were practically rushed down to the convention center, where we were even more rushed to the show room where the panel was taking place. Thankfully, it hadn’t started yet, so Ethan and I were relieved once we were seated.

“Where were you guys?” asked Ethan’s friend, Brian, who I had met the day prior. “I was calling you, idiot!” He smacked his friend’s arm.

“I was asleep,” Ethan replied.

“I took forever to get ready,” I said over him.

“Both!” Ethan quickly added.

Someone in the row in front of us laughed. It was Mark, who had turned around. Once he did, so did the people next to him, which were Amy, Kathryn, and Tyler. Mark smirked and put up air quotes. “Yeah. ‘Getting ready.’”

“¡Ayy cochino!” I said as I playfully slapped his hands away and tried not be embarrassed.

Maybe it was the lingering euphoria, but I felt unusually calm sitting in the middle of a row, near the front of the stage. I was able to brush off Mark’s comment and avoid getting flustered and blushy. Maybe it was because it was Jack I was going to see on stage. I also had my boyfriend on my left, and my friends directly in front of me. Jack’s ex-girlfriend was on my right. It was like-

Wait.

My head immediately turned to the girl sitting next to me. I didn’t mean to make a sudden move, but I was surprised, not only at the person, but the fact that she was wearing the exact same black sweater as me. Despite that, I was a little salty that she was here.

She looked back at me, just as surprised. We’ve heard of each other, we had just never met. Honestly, I didn’t think I would meet her like this, when she was blacklisted in my mind.

“Hey Signe!” Ethan happily greeted, and we both jumped.

“Hi!” she replied, quickly composing herself.

That caused Mark, Amy, Kathryn, and Tyler to turn around. They were all happy to see her. She was happy to see them. Or they were all polite and collectively ignoring the elephant in the room. I mean, this group did have a tendency to welcome ex-girlfriends.

“You’re Bella, right?” Signe asked after that wave of greetings. “Sean’s roommate?”

I nodded and pressed on my own fake smile. “Yeah. Um, I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“I know, it seems… awkward,” she said in a tone that matched her words. “But I wanted to see him… and maybe talk to him later.”

To break his heart again? To have the same conversation and hurt him again?

“Oh, cool.”

Signe looked at me, hesitating. “You don’t like me.” It wasn’t a question.

Still, I was taken aback by that statement. I chuckled nervously. “Um, no. I mean… I don’t know you really, I’m just…”

“She’s great with people,” Ethan sarcastically added as he patted my hand.

I sighed. “Thanks, babe.”

Thankfully, the lights went down, indicating the start of the panel.

~

“I can’t believe you never told me!” I snapped once we were all taken out of the room following the panel. I was so utterly betrayed.

“I thought you knew!” Ethan replied in defense. “Babe, listen-” He tried taking my hand, but I quickly pulled it away.

“No! Do you know what this means?” I asked seriously.

He slowed his steps through the narrow hall. “Baby. Don’t do this. Come on, please. Let’s go back to our room, and-”

“I can’t go back to the room with you!”

“Where are you gonna go, then? With Sean? He can’t help you with this, he’s on my side this time!” Ethan shot back, folding his arms. “You know what? Don’t come back to the room! I was willing to talk this out, but if you’re acting this way-”

“You guys are way too passionate about pizza,” pointed out Signe, who was walking with us.

“I don’t like pineapple!” I justified.

“Oh, why don’t you just rip my heart out?” Ethan said to me.

We were escorted to a secluded corridor by enforcers, which eventually led us backstage where we met up with Jack. Or as I like to call him, the other traiter. I would have let him have it, had he not noticed that his ex was among his group of friends. We all kind of knew to leave them alone, so we did just that, and let the enforcers take us somewhere else.

“Do you think-” Ethan was about to say.

“Wait,” I cut him off as we walked away.

“They’re gonna-”

“Shh!”

I waited until we were all out the exit and near the main floor. I had been holding his hand until now, and I quickly pulled it back to my side as I heard people yell. “I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t like her that much.”

“How come?” Ethan asked, surprised at my words and probably my gesture.

“She hurt him.” I shrugged. “Like, she really, really hurt him. She made him fly back to Ireland only to confirm that they were broken up. She abandoned him.”

“Maybe they’ll work it out this time. He looked happy to see her.”

I would have said more, but then we were joined once again by Brian and his girlfriend, Morgan. They were surprisingly easy to talk to, I hadn't felt completely overwhelmed by them just yet.

“Okay, be honest,” Brian said to me, “How much is he paying you to hang out with him?”

“Well, I don't mean to brag,” I replied, “but… four dollars and pudding cup. Like, I don't wanna say I got it made, but…”

Brian looked at Ethan, betrayed. “She gets a pudding cup and I don't?”

It went on like that. It was fun.

We didn't get back to the hotel until nighttime. Once I was alone with Ethan, I was exhausted. It was a fun day, but I could only handle so much interaction. Not only that, Ethan and Brian were approached by fans more often than not, and while most didn't bat an eye at me, I was sure they would speculate online. So that was another thing to worry about. We had never really talked about when we would publicly show our relationship.

“Hey, so are you coming to my signing tomorrow?” Ethan asked me. Even more things to worry about.

I plopped face down onto the bed and sighed. “Do you want me to go?”

“Well, yeah,” he said as he lied down next to me. “But if it's too stressful for you, then you don't have to stay obviously. But I do want you there.”

Everything is already stressful. I'm not dead, but I'm stressed. I wanted to go home already.

“What about your followers?” I asked. “What’ll they think?”

“I'm sure they figured it out already,” he told me. “I already saw some stuff on Twitter. It's mostly positive.”

I scoffed, grumpy. “I literally do not believe you, but I'm too tired to see for myself.”

“Well, it's true. Some things can turn out positive, believe it or not.” He got up and went to the bathroom.

What was that supposed to mean? How could people not hate me? I went from Mark to Ethan in less than a year, and I knew how shady that looked! Mark had never seen the dark parts of his community until I came into the picture. It could be the same with Ethan's. It had to be the same.

I would have brought it up when he got out of the bathroom but then there was a knock on the door. That sound alone gave me enough energy to get up, grab my skincare products and hide in the bathroom.

~

The next day was Mark’s panel with Tyler, Ethan, Bob, and Wade. In other words, there was no time for fun things under the sheets this time, so I couldn’t find it in me to relax or not think of my empty apartment in Los Angeles. I couldn’t really think rationally either, and that probably had to do with the fact that Ethan had to leave beforehand.

“Will you be okay?” he asked while I was getting ready.

“Yeah.” I’ve learned nothing. “Jack is gonna come find me and…” I trailed off as I filled in my eyebrows with a brush.

“And we’ll never know,” Ethan joked with a small laugh.

I looked at him through the reflection in the mirror. He looked so cute and happy in his dark red pants and navy shirt. He even had his glasses on and everything. I double checked to make sure my brows were okay before standing up to face him.

“Good luck,” I told him with a smile. “I’m proud of you, and you look adorable.”

“Oh, stop!” he replied as he dramatically waved it off. “I’ll see you in the audience?”

“I’ll be the pink dot sitting by the green dot.”

Ethan smiled before quickly kissing me goodbye. As soon as he was out the door I dropped my fake happy expression. I wanted to support him, despite that it took all of my energy. I was starting to remember why I always avoided big events like this. Only a couple more days.

By the time I finished doing my makeup, Jack had come by my room. He was alone, but he looked perkier than usual. He looked happy. I envied him.

“I’m almost ready,” I told him, my brain feeling like static.

“Can we talk for a second?” he requested before adding, “it’s about me and Signe.”

“Okay.”

We sat on the foot of the bed. I had a feeling I already knew what he was going to say, but I had to hear it to be sure.

“We got back together last night.” As expected.

I nodded lightly.

“You think I made the wrong choice,” Jack assumed.

Come on, Baller. Use your words.

“No,” I said. “Well - I’m sorry, I’m just… really tired and… drained. It’s not you, sorry.”

“So you’re cool with it? That we’re back together?” he asked hopefully.

That’s when I hesitated. “Let me put it this way: what if I got back with my ex-boyfriend after everything he put me through? After you saw how I acted and what I did because of him. What would you think of that?”

Jack considered my words and then nodded understandingly. “Okay, I get it.”

“But still,” I continued. “It’s your life, and I want you to be happy, and if she still makes you happy, despite everything, then… I’ll welcome her with my open, anxious arms.”

He chuckled. “Okay. Thanks, Bellers. And, just so you know, I was angry at Mark for a while after what he did to you. It takes time for all of that to pass, so I understand if you don’t warm up to Signe right away.”

“I’ll be nice to her, don’t worry.”

“That’s all I ask.”

~

Mark’s panel was as extra as you could expect. He made the audience scream and wave for the first three minutes. Claimed the room wasn’t big enough for his ego. Then he introduced each of his friends in an equally extra manner.

“The one and only… Tyler! The undying smile! Stand please!”

“Ethan…” (“Is that my introduction?” He pulled a dab.) “The crankiest boy in the West… and the East! Watch as he… introduces himself…” (“Hey… it’s me!”)

“Me. Mark. The unbelievable. Mark. The girthy. Shout big words at me!” (The audience booed, myself included.)

“Bob! Who needs no introduction!”

“Tears come to my eyes when I think of this man. The man who has done so much amazing things in my life, and your guys’s…” (Ethan: “Dude are you crying?”) “Shut up. This man who, not only motivated me when I was in the early stages of my channel… Wade!” (“What’s the catch?” He went to hug Mark.)

Then, the show started. Each guy expressed their opening statements. Ethan did a backflip. Then, Mark announced a tour. The five of them. On the road. Four shows in June. Many cities in the fall. Why was it daunting and intimidating? Because Mark started talking about each member of the team individually.

“Bob and Wade have been my friends for a long time, Tyler has been with me since the beginning, Ethan-”

“I mean nothing to you,” he said with a laugh.

“Let me get to it!” Mark replied after some banter. “So, Ethan is a newcomer to the team but he’s been indispensable in everything we’ve been doing. ‘A Date with Markiplier’ wouldn’t have happened without him, or without Tyler. Or without anybody on the team.” He pointed to a section of the audience. “Amy and Kathryn, you guys are unbelievable. Amy, is my inspiration in everything that I do.”

The audience lost it at that moment. But Mark quickly got their attention again.

“And! I lied, Ethan isn’t the newcomer anymore! Bella, our dear friend Bella, she’s part of the team now and she’s going to be helping us with a lot of cool stuff!”

Once again, the audience lost it. Oh no, attention. Jack nudged my side, and I blushed and kept a stiff smile on my face. I kept my eyes firmly on the guys on stage. Luckily, Mark was able to diffuse that uproar and bring the attention back to the tour.

The guys played some improv games and then talked more about the show without giving away anything major. Then they answered some Twitter questions. It was generally very good and fun, I was able to forget about being put on the spot for the duration of the panel.

One question was the deep and inevitable, “What would you tell your younger self?” All the guys had deep, emotional answers but for some reason, Mark admitting that he was very happy where he is now got me. For a minute, that douchebag persona went away and he genuinely said he was happy. It was actually nice to hear. Also, Tyler said to focus on the small bits of joy instead of everything that was going wrong, and I did not need to hear that at all… but I did.

Finally, Mark fucking cried. It was understandable, though. He got so deep and into the moment that it made some tears arise. It made me think back to our early days at YTU, when he would tell me about everything he wanted to do. His mind was all over the place, and his heart was, or still is, in a good place. He wanted to make change, he wanted to do good things.

He changed mine. I wouldn’t be here, alive or dead, if he wasn’t so determined to talk to me back in 2014.

~

After the panel ended, Jack, Signe, Amy, Kathryn, and I were escorted backstage where we met up with the guys. Then, we all ventured out back to the hotel. For some fucking reason, we decided to walk. Outside. Where it was snowing. I was brutally reminded that I was in fact a desert rat. I held Ethan’s hand like it was a lifeline until we made it back to the hotel.

That was when I slowly started to lose it again. I felt exhausted, but my heart and brain were working overtime. I tried to distract myself by looking on my phone when we were in the elevator, only to find a stalker photo of my and my boyfriend on Tumblr. It was taken from behind, our colorful hair sticking out like sore thumbs. We were holding hands, or I was hugging Ethan’s arm and standing awfully close to him while we were surrounded by people. I honestly didn’t remember where in the convention center we were when that was taken, but it made me feel awfully weird. It wasn’t a little secret anymore.

“Now they know for sure,” Ethan said when I showed him. “That means you can go to my signing!”

If I don’t die first.

“Ooh, that’s gonna be fun,” Amy spoke up from behind us. “Everyone is generally really nice, don’t worry.”

I nodded, despite that I wanted to drown myself in the mini bar in our hotel room. That was a bad sign, right? I felt the need to sedate myself somehow. That’s bad.

Thankfully, I was able to get in some resting time. Ethan was super persistent on getting me to stick with him all day, and if I was going to do that, I had to keep to myself for a bit. I had to be a good girlfriend, but I couldn’t do it while I was on edge.

The mini bar was awfully tempting though. It was on top of the mini fridge, which was right next to the desk where I had my makeup laid out. However, Ethan was sat behind me on the bed. Maybe I could just wait until he went to the bathroom or something.

“Are you putting makeup on top of your makeup?” he asked at one point.

“Just on my eyes,” I replied, sounding distant for a multitude of reasons. “Maybe I’ll go nuts and put on false eyelashes.” Or I’ll go nuts in general. Whichever happens first.

At least I had new products to try out. Three hundred dollars’ worth of items. My soft, neutral look from this morning was quickly turned into a glittery cut crease. I was blown away by this liquid eyeshadow, I had to stop myself from reacting the way I did in my videos: an excited squeal and dropping a thousand f-bombs. Oh, and I did add false lashes. I got carried away in the name of distractions. When I finished the look, I turned to Ethan.

“Too much?” I asked.

“Huh?”

I waved around my face. “Do I look okay? Too much glitter? Too much glow?”

Ethan scooted up so he was at the foot of the bed and directly in front of me. He put on a mock thoughtful face and stroked his chin.

“Hmm, turn your head,” he told me, and I obliged. “Yes, very shiny. Very… contour-y. You sacrificed many babies to look this pretty, I can tell.”

I breathed out a laugh and looked him in the eyes again.

“Shiny nose,” he mumbled.

“In an oily way or a glowy way?” I asked as I reached for my compact.

“Glowing,” he quickly replied, grabbing my hand to stop me. “It’s adorable! Ya look gore-gus!”

“Aw, thanks boo!” I said, waving it off. “Now, come here. I have to do a kiss test.”

That caught him by surprise. “Kiss test?”

I pointed to my mouth. “New liquid lipstick. I need to see if it transfers, and it’s boring to kiss the back of my hand.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then.”

We moved closer to each other, I placed a hand on his shoulder, and I kissed him right on the mouth. Yes, this was a ploy to make out with him, but it was also for research! I had to keep it short, though. Too much kissing would obviously make the color transfer. I pulled back and quickly ran my thumb over his lips, doing a quick inspection.

“Alright, cool,” I concluded as I turned back towards the mirror.

“That’s it?” Ethan asked.

“Yup! Thank you, chulo!”

“Tease!”

_______

final chapter

[rockinem777]

Is this isn't even 30% of my life's fucking tragity & I still have the heart to do good for people and love like y'all are bitch made fr

I have been through so much fucking bullshit and deception and straight betrayals are an understatement to everything I have been through. I've lost my best friend. I have walked away from people I loved. I have let a grown man take advantage of everything in me he could and leave me with nothing but hate for myself. My best friend in high school wrote the first statement on me. My fiance in West Virginia has given up on me. I have never met anyone as solid as me. My best friend Kat Lynn fucking dumb fake ass bitch. She's causes a world of problems. Never did I once say a bad thing about her. My parents know I'm dying. They don't give a fuck. My dog is dying. Like lemme make it real fucking clear for you who doesn't seem to know who the fuck I am and wtf I've been through. I got my TBI cause I jumped out of a car cause the mfer told me I wouldn't. Well let me make it more realistic. My first love and I were fighting and his dad made me go home. In the car I wanted to jump out. He said I wouldn't and long story short I opened the door and the brakes through me out the door 55Mph I landed on my skull. I was unconscious for 9 days. I had to learn how to talk again. Like all for that first love of mine to leave as soon as I got out the hospital. All I had to talk to was myself. And that's just the beginning. I was suicidal then I'm suicidal now. I've lost every friend on my way here because they're fake liars back stabbers ect. My only friend Melanie Wade is who I could talk to. I used to watch her son and talk to her for days. She really understand me. She got shot in the head years ago. She was like my second mom. I talked and seen her more than my real mom. I ain't been the same since. My GMA and GPA knew I was gonna be homeless or kicked out of something when I was 16. They didn't let me stay at their house. Neither did my brother. The amount of times I've been beaten and thrown out this fucking house is an ungodly sin. And I don't want your fucking pity. The only reason I get to stay here now is cause I gave my mom a 75 thousand dollar check which I get 100 dollars a week of which she Hates to come up off of. which if I would have kept I bet you money id be dead. Ive moved out on my own with bfs and to drug houses like 5 times. 7th Street. Port republic. 10th St shout out to that nigga that gave me this fucking MRSA Gary lmao (this was the first house I was 16) scottsville. Norfolk. Like my first bf that was a mess. 4 years down the drain. IDK EHAT LOVE IS. 2nd bf my best friend at the time for years the only reason I dated that mfer is cause he would beg me for years so I figured id try. He ended up abusive. He ended up crazy. I ended up running out his house bleeding from stepping on the broken glass omw out walking from 7th to 250 near step-n-out. No phone. I got home cause that mfer came and got me and took me home no let him cause he promised I could go home. He used to refuse to let me leave. Throw me back into the house into the bedroom. Me and his son ooo malakii used to sleep and cuddle and rainy nights were the best with that amazing 5year old boy. Not that I know him anymore but whatever. Then we got that last one lmao wtf happened with that. Like fuck my life he told me I would see that none ofbthose mfers gaf about me and I guess I wanted to prove him wrong about a couple months ago when I lost all hope and I've became manically depressed I got a lisence plate that said, "told ya" like thanks. Soooo let's begiin on me being claimed by the KKK and forever fucking slave to some one or guy idk how it works tbh. Better than being sex trafficed right? I guess so. Like Garrette bar was the funniest and most loyal friend you could ask for and its a damn fucking shame he took his life over that fucking dumb whore cause she's the definition of vindictive and spiteful and evil. Hell yeah I love live blah blah blah loves you dillan I miss you. I should've ditched and went to hburg that nughtbeih you. Instead I've been having my hair pulled and legit hit and smacked around and screamed at by this mistake of a ex boyfriend John micheal which this should have been awarded with best human pickier me. Cause obviously I know how to pick the worse fucking ones cause up until today. I thought he loved me. I thought I could make it work. And tbh it was my last hope. He was my last hope and here we fucking are and fr I took 50 sleeping pills the other night and novlie he walked out on me and was clueless until he was dragging me around me bed by my hair and head calling me a bitch 2 days later for asking him "what he problem was now" in my sleep but he legit says I deserve it. He's called me a bitch twice today and oh yeah he pushed me off my bed into my closet which I like flew but anyway I smacked my head on the closet. And he watched me lay there for about an hour holding my head not saying a word. While he just got rude and acted like a douche. But then he picked me up off the floor and left me on the bed to tell me he was gonna leave me. Then I was ignoring him of course idk what to say cause obviously after forcing my hands off my ears while he screamed hateful shit into my ears 2xs he still grabbed me by my head and hair on my bed after throwing me ect and called me a bitch and told me about how his cousin is gonna come get him. So long story short I'm not trying to fix shit and he's laying on my floor saying he don't want me and blah blah blah long story short I wish I never fucking met the guy he popped my cherry. I hate myself for letting him docthisnto me if I could go back in time and never meet him. I would. I hate him. Up until today I swear I loved this mfer so much. Like I thought it was meant to be. Like omg if you don't want to be here anymore 😭 but I wish I was dead. But yeah but fr the way I let him treat me is disgraceful and I'm having a hard time forgiving myself for allowing it and like I'm not sure if that isn't the only reason I stayed this long like I was trying to vouch for myself for chasing after a man 2xs my age who was clearly just getting more abusive and mean and shamelessly more selfish by the day. Anyway I don't know what you think of me and I don't give a fuck honestly cause your fucking retarded if you don't know who the fuck has put in so much work and gave up so much fucking of my entire fucking life for the credit and adoration I receive. And no I don't ever remember the bad times. I have so many compressed memories. Like dude getting teeth taken out and getting brutally beat up and bitten and raped like and almost trafficed but I escaped. Like but fr I don't have a bone in my fucking body that has I'll intent for anyone. Always look for the helpful way. Always help who needs to be helped. Always there for people. I'm a good fucking person. Probably better than you. And I'm no longer interested in the position I think I had. I give people clothes and feed them and take care of who needs it. I'm a 100% spectacular human being and I'd be a jealous fucking asshole too if I had half the fucking mind to be as cruel hateful mean and selfish as almost everyone else around me seems to have.

[berjhawn]

Requests...

So while i have some down time, since the next few chapters of WINTERNIGHT are done, I have thought about doing some one-shots. 

RULES:

You can request one-shots of the following characters:

Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier

Steve Rogers / Captain America

Sebastian Stan 

Chris Evans

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Natasha Romanoff

Peter Quill / Starlord

Wade Wilson / Deadpool 

Castiel

Thor 

Loki

I will write about pretty much anything EXCEPT:

non-consensual sex (RAPE)

Abusive Relationships 

You can send me a request or if you can’t think of anything here are a few prompts you can choose from. You can choose as many as you’d like:

1. Do you ever wonder when you became the very thing you’re afraid of?

2. When you love someone, it’s worth fighting for. No matter what the odds.

3. Friends don’t let friends do stupid shit alone.

4. You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want

5. I really don’t let myself cry in front of anybody

6. I need to learn to stop caring

7. Pretending not to love you was the hardest thing I ever had to do.

8. You took a piece of me and I let you.

9. We’re friends, real friends and that means no matter how long it takes, when you finally decide to look back, I’ll still be here.

10. It wasn’t over, it still isn’t over!

11. So you think I’m broken? Then fix me.

12. If you love someone, you tell them. Even if you’re scared that it’s not the right thing. Even if you’re scared it’ll cause problems. You say it, you say it loud.

13. There is nothing worse in the world than thinking you have a chance when you really don’t

14. Don’t you understand? I can’t leave you, but you’re constantly leaving me.

15. I only wanted you to be happy, I’m just sorry it couldn’t be with me.

16. I’m still in love with you. I tried not to be, but it didn’t work.

17. What if nobody ever loves me?

18. You’re perfect. Which is beyond annoying, I can’t look at you.

19. I love you and I’m always going to love you, but I don’t want to love you. I want to be happy.

20. You don’t destroy the person you love

21. If I murder someone, you are the person is call to help me drag the body across the floor. You’re my person.

22. If there’s no food, I’m going home

23. We should be drunk, why aren’t we drunk?

24. I’m standing here, looking at you and all I want to do is kiss you.

25. I have to walk away from you, I have to for me.

26. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did.

27. I can’t imagine a day when I won’t be in love with you

28. You bother the hell out of me

29. All I want is you!

30. Since when do I care about anyone’s happiness but mine?

31. I will always find you

32. If people are suppose to be together, they will find a way.

33. You may have noticed, but I’m not all there myself

34. Come bother me

35. I just want you to be happy

36. How do you begin to explain something that you cent even understand yourself?

37. Everything around me makes me miss you

38. Nothing about us feels right anymore

39. You have to promise me, you won’t fall in love with me.

40. I don’t want to be just the next girl

41. You wanna dance with me?

42. Sometimes, you fall for someone you didn’t expect but that doesn’t make it wrong

43. Every time I look at you, it hurts

44. Shouldn’t we hold out for the person who doesn’t just tolerate our little quirks, but actually kind of likes them?

45. I’m happy your happy, but dammit what if?

46. You are the only thing that makes me want to get up in the morning

47. We were inseparable, constantly being separated

48. I know you’re mad at me, but I need help with my tie

49. What am I to you?

50. So whose the unlucky girl?

51. I love you so much, I just want you to be happy. Even if that happiness no longer includes me.

52. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met and somehow, I don’t know, somehow you chose me.

53. What I’m about to say is the most selfish thing I’ve ever said in my life.

54. The first rule of truly live, do the thing you’re most afraid of.

55. The truth is, I’ve tried to stop thinking of but I cant

56. I’m mad at you because I love you!

57. I try so hard and I’m never the one

58. You’re jealous aren’t you?

59. Why are you so annoying?

60. Never in a million years

61. I might have had a few shots

62. I could kiss you right now!

63. It’s your fault we are in this mess.

64. I hate you

65. Just admit you’re wrong!

66. I need you to do me a huge favor

67. Well this is awkward

68. “When you love someone, you just don’t stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Specially then!

69. “If you’re not scared, then you’re not taking a chance. If you’re not taking a chance, then what the hell are we doing anyway?

70. Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?

71. All nighter, you and me. First one to fall sleep buys the other dinner.

72. It’s midnight, what do you want?

73. Okay, am I drunk or did you really just say that?

74. I’m too sober for this shit

75. Just pretend to be my date

76. I can’t believe you dragged me into this

77. Quick, kiss me!

78. Out of all the people in the world, I get stuck with you

79. You’re going to love me. Watch, you’ll see

80. It’s midnight, what do you want?

81. I wish I never laid eyes on you. I wish we never met. If I never laid eyes on you then I wouldn’t have fallen in love

82. I’m not a fantasy. If you want me, earn me!

83. Are you wearing my shirt?

84. Don’t look at me like that

85. Being your friend is basically ruining my life

86. If you leave, I will literally go out of my freakin mind.

87. I just want the chance to be yours again

88. Stop saying you’re sorry

89. I’ve been in love with her/him my entire life! And I think she/he loves me too.

90. It hurts so bad I can’t breathe

91. you’re my best friend. And if anything were to happen to you, I would lose my mind

92. That’s the problem, I don’t want to hate you. Because if I hate you then I’ll have nothing left

93. How about that dance?

94. Hold my hand dammit, we gotta make this look convincing!

95. Wait, am I dreaming or are you actually smiling?

96. Just do this for me and I promise I will make it worth your while!

97. I never had a minute to think about how I feel about you

98. I came here to win you back, and dammit, I’ll do whatever I have to

99. Why do you care? It’s not like we’re friends or anything.

100. Words don’t mean anything to me! You know what does? Taking action

101. The thing is, I can’t pretend we never happened because I’m still in love with you

102. We could’ve had a life together

103. Hold on to me

104. Can you stay? Please?

105. Let’s go somewhere, anywhere in the world. Just you and me.

106. You only get one life. It’s actually your duty to live it as fully as possible

107. I can make you happy

108. Do it, I dare you!

109. I’m not freaking out, are you freaking out?

110. You are never too old for a Disney movie

111. College AU

112. You’re my new dream

113. You mean more to me than anyone in this whole wide world

114. I’ll always catch you

115. Wait, what are the rules again?

116. That’s no fair! You cheated!

117. Neighbors

118. I’ll race you

119. I look at you and I’m home

120. True love is putting someone else before yourself

121. And when I promise something, I never ever break that promise. Ever.

122. I think about you a lot more than I probably should.

123. What do you wish for at night?

124. I told you not to fall in love with me.

125. Coffee shop au

126. How drunk are you right now?

127. Can we just stay in bed and cuddle? Watch some Disney movies?

128. I think I’m falling in love with you

129. This stays between us

130. You have ten minutes, so make it quick.

131. You owe me, big time.

132. If you make fun of me one more time, I’m gonna tell everyone we know that you named your favorite pillow Mr. Puff Puff.

133. If your house was on fire and you only had ten seconds to save something important, what would you get?

134. So I was–don’t move! There’s a spider on your shoulder!

135. How the hell do I end up with hufflepuff!?

136. Okay, it’s settled.you are officially my zombie apocalypse partner.

137. What is the point of being alive if you don’t try to do something remarkable

138. Sometimes you make choices in life and sometimes choices make you

139. When you meet the right person, you know it. You can’t stop thinking about them. They’re your best friend and your soul mate. You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with them. No one and nothing else can compare.

140. When you find someone you want to keep around, you do something about it.

141. You’re just as screwed up as I am, I like you.

142. Doctor au

143. You’re insane, you know that?

144. But what if we get caught!?

145. Comic con au

146. You are really comfortable.

147. Just kiss me already

148. You made me love you and I hate you for that!

149. Why are you smiling at me like that?

150. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t stop thinking about you

So if anyone is interested send me an ask, message, or Fanmail and let me know. 

Request here