#I gave up on the original plan for this prompt and saved that hot mess to try and figure out again later but I don't know if that's doable.

[averbaldumpingground]

"No, no, don't apologize. Your constant complaining is music to my ears."

Sarah ignored him, squaring her shoulders as the rocks arranged themselves again. They didn't reach as high this time, but seemed like they would be a little bit more stable.

"Verily, my lady, art thou certain about proceeding with this endeavor? Ambrosius and I--"

"Ow!" So much for stability. She banged her knee as the stone that she'd stood on rolled backwards.

"Sorry," came the low, defeated roar.

"Oh, it's alright, Ludo. There's got to be another way to do this."

"Or you could just give up. And maybe let His Royal Highness win this one?"

"There is no honor in conceding defeat! Why I--"

Sarah tuned them out. She had known, before she'd even opened her mouth, that making a bet with the Goblin King would be a terrible idea. But she was tired of the goblins trampling her makeup and eating all her little brother's crayons. And if competing in the goblins' Chicken Olympics was what got them to stop, well, she had been willing to try it.

She just hadn't counted on needing to be able to fly. Or pretty much any of the rest of it.

This whole thing really wasn't fair. She should have known.

#fanfiction #Labyrinth #Sarah Williams #December 31 2023 #I gave up on the original plan for this prompt and saved that hot mess to try and figure out again later but I don't know if that's doable. #I'm not happy with it but this was a last minute change to the plan and I give up and am going to be. #This concludes my daily attempts at getting something written. #I've kept at this since January 1 2019 so 5 whole years of this daily thing. #At first it was a challenge to myself to see if I could and then also a way to try to handle my depression. #I don't have it in me anymore to keep trying. #So this blog thing is going to be mostly defunct now. #I may or may not come back and write things for the hell of it when I feel like it. Or answer a prompt if I get one. #But I am done I guess. #I should probably say something profound but since no one reads this thing anyway I'm not going to bother. #And now I get to sleep. Hooray!

[obiwanobi]

Catch me thinking about sith Anakin who got in a fight w/ Palps (did Palps cross a line? Did Anakin decide he had nothing to lose? Idk), barely managed to win and is now seriously hurting and a little freaked out winding up outside Obi-wan's quarters and Obi-wan doesn't have time to draw his saber let alone figure out how a sith lord managed to get so far into the jedi temple unnoticed and Force is that blood? before Anakin's passing out with only a murmered request for help.

LISTEN you can’t keep sending me perfect prompts, how do you know I can’t resist bloody men on their knees begging for salvation, how do you know me so well??? anyway here’s 2.3k of always-a-sith!Anakin who could have been the new ruler of the empire but said ‘no thanks, this is too much responsibility, I would like to be pampered by my favourite jedi now’ (with a bit of Ahsoka as Obi-Wan’s padawan!)

 He didn’t mean to kill him.

Well, not at first.

He didn’t mean to kill Sidious, but pulling his lightsaber from his lifeless corpse only felt like complete satisfaction. A weight on his shoulders he didn't know he carried disappeared, letting him stand up above the body of his master— former master, and gaze upon what was left of him. A shapeless form on the ground. A dark cape around an old man playing at being a god. A begging mess of futile promises when he realised it was the end for him.  

As mindless fury leaves him, his ragged breathing slows down and his fist unclenches around his saber. Sidious is dead. Now that the adrenaline rush is gone, his knees start shaking. His Master is dead. His face is wet with sweat and blood and tears. Dead and now Anakin has no one.

And then...  And then fear.

"You know," Ahsoka groans as the water starts boiling, "I don't understand how you got your reputation of Cool Jedi Master. Other padawans think I'm lying when I tell them you wear the ugliest slippers at home and gets excited by new tisanes."

"You gifted me those slippers."

"As a joke. And you still wear them."

"I'm not going to throw away perfectly good slippers." Obi-Wan wiggles his toes under the red and yellow fuzzy monstrosities, just to see his padawan rolls her eyes. "And they're really comfortable."

"So you're just going to stay there, then? Your whole battalion is out celebrating our first day of leave since forever, but you prefer to drink your tea alone and go to bed at 22:00?"

"No one wants an authority figure around when they're letting loose and celebrating, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan says, pouring hot water in his cup. He raises the kettle towards his padawan as a question, to which she shakes her head. "I thought you would be happy to see me putting sleep before work for once."

"I am, Master, but I thought it could be..." She trails off, fidgeting with the hilt of her sabers. For once, she looks like a typical padawan, just like he was at her age, dying to enjoy one night away from the temple and any kind of responsibilities.

"It's alright my dear," he sighs, "you can join them if you want."

Ahsoka suddenly perks up. "I can?"

"If you're old enough to be sent to the front, I think you can handle yourself for one night on Coruscant."

"Thank you Master! I promise I'll be careful and not come back too late!"

"You do that, and-- wait, Ahsoka," he adds as she's already halfway through the door, "make sure to stay around Cody! And no alcohol of any kind! And don't lose your lightsaber at sabacc again!"

"That was you!" she yells from the end of the corridor, "don't worry, I'll be fine! Don't wait for me to go to bed! Goodnight Master!"

Obi-Wan smiles, blowing on his cup. He already sent a message to Cody earlier to keep an eye on her, so he knows she's in good hands.

He has his herbal tea, his ugly slippers, no reports to read or write, and no immediate Separatist menace to plan for. For once, a perfectly good night to catch up on sleep and meditation.

So, of course, something has to be wrong.

The Force is bright. The Force is lighter than it has ever been for the past few years.

And Obi-Wan can't understand why.  

It's not just him that can feel it: Ahsoka has acted chipper since, more like the teenager she is, laughing with the clones and playfully teasing him the whole fly back to Coruscant. The temple has felt livelier than ever when they arrived, Jedi from all ages going about their day with a new spring in their step, greeting each other warmly in the corridors. Even Master Yoda has taken a few minutes during their Council meeting to note the shift in the Force. No Master could pinpoint the origin of this change, but all agreed that something good happened somewhere in the galaxy, and they were just feeling ripples of the effect in the Force.

Still now, the whole temple feels a bit more like it used to, before the war, and all Jedi are a bit happier without knowing why.

Only Obi-Wan feels like a noose tightening around him. Whatever it is, it's slowing making its way around his presence in the Force. Focusing on him and him alone. Doesn't matter how much Obi-Wan tries to hide himself, it's getting closer and never slowing down or losing interest.

Needless to say, Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this.

But after almost three years of war, sullen faces and grim expressions, he doesn't feel like dampening the sudden good mood around the Temple just with a few words. He can probably deal with whatever it is by himself.

His tisane is cold when he finally emerges from his meditation. Nothing is clearer than when he started: the Force is deaf to his questions and inquiries, still light as a breeze. An airy unconcern for his restlessness. And yet, a thick pressure still looms around him, getting heavier each passing second now.

His fingers start pulling on his collar.

The clock on the wall indicates that he lied to Ahsoka when he said he was going to bed at a respectable time today. No diurnal Jedi would still be up right now, but he still considers going out to knock at Mace's door. Narrowed eyes and a very long sigh will be his first answer, but Obi-Wan knows that Mace would never refuse to hear him out. Yes, he finally decides when the pressure seems to creep even closer to him, it's worth waking up Mace.

He opens his door, wondering if he should take his robe with him, and instantly stops walking.

There, in the empty corridor of the Jedi Temple, at his door and on his knees, is a Sith. He knows it's a Sith only because he recognises this specific mass of hair, the large shoulders, the dishevelled dark robe. He knows it's a Sith because he has crossed path with this one enough times on the battlefield to recognise him anywhere. Outside of it a few times too. He isn't sure it's a Sith when the Sith raises his head up, bloody and bruised face torn in an agonizing expression, and his eyes are blue.

"I— I didn't know where to go," Darth Vader says quietly, with the kind of voice expected from a lost child. It gives Obi-Wan a second shock to hear his voice, making his presence suddenly real. "You said... You said if I ever wanted to, if I needed help one day, you would— I could—"

Obi-Wan remembers it. He remembers all the times he offered his help. His pleas for him to stop the violence, the appeals to reason, the multiple suggestions of a gentler path. His hand continuously outreached but never taken. He remembers the burning gold of the Sith's eyes too, and his black cape floating above the dead clones at his feet.

His laughter the first time Obi-Wan brought up the idea of lowering their blades and talking around a cup of tea. His sneer the third time Obi-Wan tried to change his misconceptions about the Jedi Order and play-flirt with him in the same breath. The silence the fifth time Obi-Wan asked him his name, his real name, the one a parent gave him.

The tears the last time he gave it to him.

"And you're always trying to save me," Vader adds more forcefully now, like the words anger him, "you're always here, showing up almost every time I'm sent somewhere with your stupid smile and stupid words, and you're always nice, and... and teasing, and disappointed when I kill someone, like you expect me to be better, and I don't understand you, but..."

Vader raises his hand towards him, and it's only this sudden move that shakes Obi-Wan out of his stupor. Before the Sith can touch his leg, Obi-Wan calls his lightsaber to him, ignites it in one fluid motion, half-expecting Vader to be up and swaying his saber in his face by now. But the Sith is still on his knees, and it's only now that the blue light of his blade is above him that Obi-Wan realises the state he's in. His face isn't the only thing bruised and battered: his dark tunic is stained with blood and ripped in more than one place, one of his arms is bent in an unnatural way, and it looks like a cut above his hairline is still bleeding, making his curls stick to his face in a mess of wet hair and burned skin.

"Vader," Obi-Wan says slowly, when his thoughts finally regain a semblance of coherence. A rapid investigation through the Force assures him that no other enemy is around and the calm and quiet of the night in the Temple isn't a prequel for a storm. "How did you get in here? What are you doing here? How—"

Vader's hand, stuck in the space between them, reaches once again for Obi-Wan. Foolishly, Obi-Wan lets him. His fingers twist themselves in the fabric of his pants.

"He made me killed them all.” Vader wobbles on his knees for a second, the hand on Obi-Wan's leg gripping it tighter. “No platoons, no battle droids. Just me. He sent me to the power station and I cut through them so easily, so quickly, they didn't even fight back, and I didn't think that..." he trails off, panting. "Until.... until I saw the electro-whips." 

"Are you talking about Naphtla?" he asks when Vader doesn't seem to be able to continue.

Naphtla. Outer Rim. Barely on the Republic radar until this afternoon, when nearby troops answered a distress signal and found a hidden Separatist power station operated by slaves. A third of them were dead, killed only a few hours before, and the survivors turned to the Republic for immediate support. Slaughtered like animals, the rescue team reported to the Council only a few hours ago, by one single man wielding a red lightsaber. According to witnesses, the darksider cut through the slaves like bantha butter, killing everyone in his path without discrimination, until he stopped for no apparent reason and abruptly left.

"You were the one who killed the people at the station there," Obi-Wan realises out loud, horrified, "the slaves from Zygerria."

Vader snaps his head up and his fingers tighten painfully around Obi-Wan's knee. "I DIDN'T KNOW!"

All Obi-Wan's senses and logical thoughts urge him to back out, put an end to this nonsensical charade, raise his lightsaber between them, get away from the dark, hungry void Vader generates in the Force.

But his eyes are looking up to him. Gripping his gaze with the same intensity as his hand on his leg. Bloodied face and pleading, on his knees. Full of tears.

Obi-Wan doesn't push Vader's hand away.

"I didn't know they were slaves, I didn't!"

"Vader."

"He never said! He sent me without telling him, he knows I don't—" A small noise sounding suspiciously like a sob swallows the rest of his words.

"Vader, who sent—"

"When I came back," he tries again, quieter. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to ask about this he, but Vader's head lolls for a second, too heavy to support, before butting gently against Obi-Wan's leg. Vader makes no effort to move, content to stay there, and after a second, a small, almost timid nuzzle against his thigh sends a series of shivers through Obi-Wan's spine. It shuts him up instantly. "When I came back, he looked at me for so, so long, before saying that he knew, he knew I was going to fail, that I was... just like them after all, and that I could never... And I was so mad, so angry at him, so I... I..."

The last words are muffled by the fabric Vader clings to. Hides into. There's blood on Obi-Wan's pants now.

"What have you done, Vader?" Obi-Wan asks, softer than he intended. "Vader," he asks again when no reply comes, without success. The hand not holding his lightsaber moves, hesitates for a moment, then settles lightly on Vader's hair, mindful not to touch any open wounds. His fingers nudge him to tip his head back, gently, carefully, and settle on his cheek to hold his face up, looking at him. "Anakin." His name, his true name, makes him blink a few times. "Anakin, what have you done?"

"I killed him," he finally admits, barely audible. He looks exhausted, more like a child in need of rest than ever.

"Who did you kill?"

"My master."

"Dooku? You killed Dooku?"

"No," Vader— Anakin frowns, like Obi-Wan should know better. "Sidious."

It's a bit much to process in one day. Another Sith Lord, Vader's master, concealed and kept a secret, now dead, killed by his apprentice —and does that make Vader the ruling Sith Lord now? Do Sith have rulers?— the lightness in the Force the same day, a half-dead Vader begging for help in the middle of the night in the Jedi Temple, and all of that while Obi-Wan is still wearing his ugly slippers.

He's so glad he sent Ahsoka away for the night.

Anakin doesn't let him time to feel the migraine coming.

"I can't do it, I can't be my master, I can't— and Dooku hates me, he will never help me, even if I let him have it all, he will never..." Vader seems to run out of steam, and lets his eyes close as his head falls once again against Obi-Wan's thigh. Closer. "You said you could help me. You said I could come to you at any time. You said you would always be there if I didn't want to... do this, anymore."

"I did," Obi-Wan assures him, his hand lightly petting his hair again.

Anakin lets out a long breath. His fingers tighten on the fabric of Obi-Wan's pants, loosen, and tighten again.

"You're the only one I trust," the Sith quietly tells the Jedi, and it's the saddest thing Obi-Wan has ever heard.

#appleslakesandeuchre #(I changed the end of your prompt a bit I hope it’s fine with you) #asks #obikin #clem's aus #fic i will never write #always a sith anakin au #ahsoka the next morning is HORRIFIED to find a sith on the couch #like 'I knew you had a huge soft spot for him but really master? REALLY?' #obi-wan 'shh don't raise your voice at him' #fic i did write

[angel-anoetic]

Hey! 🌿 here, I've been having Jack Manifold brain rot recently. He's so pretty and genuine and has such a nice singing voice. And then I was struck with this idea of Jack and Reader being reincarnated souls of dryads who waltz to save the world when the egg takes over and reset the timeline minus the corruption that happened and only Foolish remembers (because he's a god) even if you don't write it, thank you for writing all of my requests, it means a lot to me! ❤️

hey hey 🌿! i too have had jack manifold brain rot or it might be the gender envy but anyways- his voice is so pretty. Anon, you always give me the best writing prompts to and i always love writing your requests! i hope you enjoy !!

Don't forget to like to save, and reblog to share

c!JackManifold x gn!Reader - Saving Souls

genre: /rom, soulmates almost (?), fantasy, Dreamsmp au

warnings: none! (let me know if i missed anything)

masterlist <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time you had noticed any kind of power, you were maybe 5 years old. It wasn't too obvious at first, things that could be passed off as mere coincidence Leaves seemingly following you, flowers turning to face you.

But you couldn't ignore the big signs, the bigger things. Vines growing around you, the flowers you picked immediately sprouting a few more in their place.

It scared you, but over time you got used to it. It gave you something to do on the hot summer days and cold winter nights. Spring gave you the most power and let them flourish, literally and metaphorically.

It had been some years ago when you met a young man who went by the name Jack Manifold. It was a nice day and you decided to cross the river that surrounded your home when you came upon a field of flowers after walking for a few minutes.

There were so many that you could feel their energy fill your veins. But there was something else. Someone. An energy that matched your own, too powerful to be a plant or a part of the Earth. Then he appeared, seemingly from nowhere. A tree a few yards away suddenly a boy.

From there had blossomed, no pun intended a friendship and relationship that held so much power. You two had grown and helped each other through work through the cons of your powers. Learned how to control them before they controlled you.

So one day when you received a message from an old friend regarding a certain evil that had taken over his friends and one of his homes, you couldn't ignore his call.

You and Jack showed up a few days later, and after a brief meeting with Foolish, you considered your options as you and Jack walked to the Egg's resting place.

"Maybe we could find if its core, and if we're lucky it'll be plant-based. Or Foolish did say that there are lots of vines and other plants surrounding it. We can just bury it so deep it won't be a problem ever again."

"No, Foolish wants it gone, and I think we should exhaust all of our options, whether we destroy the Egg or not."

As you two made your way to the Egg, people began to stop and consider the new visitors. Some looked tired, others just seemed angry or upset.

Then you two found it. The entrance to its resting place. Its red color illuminating what otherwise would have been a darkroom underneath the SMP. Vines and some other plants that you weren't sure you had ever seen.

"Oh my god." You looked at Jack, his eyes glowing against the room's tainted glow.

"What is it?"

"This is worse than what I would have expected, Y/N. These plants...I've only seen them once before in a very bad place. But it could work to our advantage."

You both made your way down the stairs, the sight of the Egg pushing beyond what you could have ever imagined. It stood tall, and the pure energy and heat that it gave off were almost enough to make anyone tired.

You began to feel a sense of panic rising in you, your hands slightly shaking at the sight of the object.

You felt the energy rushing out, towards the palm of your hands as a small flutter of energy found its way to the ground. As soon as the small seeds touched the ground, they grew into enormous green and white flowers.

A terrible scream suddenly emitted from the room, one that neither of you could hardly understand.

"Y/N, do that again."

"W-What?"

"The flowers, help them grow, just like those."

You focused on the type of flower, seeing it in your mind, then three more sprouted out of the original one.

Another scream filled the room.

"Alright, I have a plan. I'm not sure it will work but I do know it's worth a chance."

You couldn't look away from the Egg. It was like a monster staring you down, one that you were seconds away from fighting.

Jack turned to you, grabbing your face gently, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

"Hey," he whispered, "It's alright. We are gonna take care of this in no time and help so many people. And we're gonna come out of it together. Okay?"

You nodded, grabbing his hands with your own, leaning into his energy.

"Alright, the plan is simple. I am going to try and manipulate these plants and grow the ones you just did. The Egg, it doesn't like the sight or the addition of plants that aren't connected to it. So while I'm carrying that out you need to start making something to protect us. I don't care what it is, how big it is, as long as it's strong enough to get us through a really bad thing. Can you do that for me?"

"I can do that."

You both smiled until Jack spoke. "Then let's do this."

Jack picked one of the flowers and one of the crimson plants that encased the room. He placed them gently together in front of the Egg and began to focus on transforming them into whatever he could.

You on the other hand began to pull together whatever plant matter you could find. Some pieces of wood and plants you had never even seen in your life still seemed to bend your will with just a little resistance. A small burrow was slowly being formed around you. When you looked up you could already see Jack had formed a large hybrid of the red and white plant which was now surrounding the Egg in a spiral.

The screams returned, nearly knocking Jack off his feet. He was a mess, the focus combined with the pure power that he needed to do what he needed was taking its toll slowly but surely.

Eventually, the Egg's screams, while still loud, became weaker, and a sudden rumbling came from the ground around you both.

"Jack! Jack get in here!" You screamed from your makeshift plant and wood bunker.

"Just a minute!" He continued his work, the vines and leaves already infiltrating the Egg's core.

You looked up, the ceiling above you caving in slowly. Right above Jack.

All he felt was the large vine wrap around his waist, then a harsh pull as he fell next to you within the bunker, moments away from the boulder that nearly crushed him.

"Keep going! It's not over yet."

You turned your attention away from the bunker and began to help Jack. The screams had to be the worst part. Your ears were basically going numb. You weren't even sure if Jack could hear your encouragements or if you were even talking.

All you know is that both of you were trying, the shaking of the ground was strong, and a sudden bright light was exploding from the Egg.

Then silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were the first to wake up. The ringing was still in your ears, but less powerful and daunting. Jack was situated against you, sleeping peacefully.

You leaned back against your arms and tried to shake him awake. Eventually, he stirred up, and you were able to clear away your shared 'bunker'.

After you made your way back up you saw the change immediately. The skies seemed happier. People were less scared to move about town.

You and Jack walked around, people greeting you as you did. You spotted Foolish atop a hill.

When you finally met him up there he smiled.

"Y/N, thank you so much. It happened. Whatever you two did...it worked." The tears filled his eyes as he engulfed both you and Jack in a hug.

"I don't know what you did, but no one here even seems to know what happened. It's like they went to bed and woke up new people. A fresh start."

You laughed. "That's great Foolish. I'm happy we could help. It was all Jack in the end."

You both turned to each other, the light in both of your eyes new.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#c!Jack Manifold x reader #c!Jack Manifold x y/n #jack manifold x reader #dsmp imagine #dsmp x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #🌿 #🌿 anon

[vampiredecay]

I Can Hear Your Heart Beat (Part 1)

A/N: heyo! this is the first part of a two parter, in celebration of hitting a little over 50 followers! this was a prompt/suggestion from @n3on-lights , thank you again so much!! originally this was going to be one part, but i realized i was at 3k words and only half way done with the story, lol. so part two will be out soon! in the mean time, hope you enjoy this first half!

rating: teen

wordcount: 3,139

warnings/notes: swearing, descriptions of being in pain, half vamp!michael, human!lost boys, the boys turn back to human, implied minor character death, goodbye max, poly!lost boys, lost boys x michael

summary: after convincing sam that he wasn't going to kill him, michael raced to the hotel to seek answers about what he was becoming. little does he know, sam has his own plans up his sleeve, leaving the boys human for the first time in years, and michael still stuck as half vampire.

--

“Sammy, please!” Michael cried out, hanging onto the phone cord for dear life, hoping to whatever god out there was merciful enough to put some sense into his little brother's head. Sam just stared, debating if he should really let his brother in or not. He was floating outside his bedroom window like a freak, and he tried to eat him! But when Sam looked at him, at his older brother, he could see that he looked terrified. He's hardly ever seen Michael genuinely afraid, and he looks so human, despite the obvious circumstances. So, Sam takes a deep breath and walks over to the window, unlocking it and opening it for Michael to crawl through.

Michael counts his blessings as he drops onto the floor, takes in huge amounts of air that he doesn't really need. Sam sinks down to the floor next to him, and Michael grabs hold of him, wrapping his arms around him like he'll start flying away again. Sam tries not to squirm too much.

"What's goin on, Mike?" Sam whispers, his voice refusing to go any higher. Michael is shaking slightly, breathing heavily, so Sam tries again, "What did those bikers do to you?"

That gets a reaction out of him, a low growling sound from deep in his throat. Michael can hear Sam's heartbeat quicken and he has to swallow thickly. "I don't know, Sam. But I'll sort it out, okay?"

"But what about mom-" Sam tries, but Michael cuts him off, frantic, "Just- just don't tell her anything, okay? You gotta trust me, Sammy."

Sam wants to argue, this was way bigger than getting a bad grade on a test, or getting into a fight in school. His gut reaction was to tell his mom, because he knew she would try and make it okay again. But he also trusted his brother. Plus, he had more experience with these guys, so Sam nodded, deciding Michael had it covered. “Okay. I trust you.”

Michael let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived once they heard their moms car screeching to a halt outside of the house. The boys frantically got up, looking at each other with wide eyes. “I gotta go, Sam. Distract mom for me, yeah?” There wasn’t any time to debate, so Sam just nodded and sprinted down the stairs. He didn't know how Michael was going to sneak out, but at this rate, he didn’t want to know.

When he got down stairs, the blond teen could hear his mom calling his name, and when the front door opened, he could see his mom looking worried like crazy. “Oh, Sam!” she said once she saw him, she sounded exhausted. “You scared me half to death!”

Sam felt guilt start to stir in his chest, he didn’t mean to make his mom worry so much. And the fact that he had to lie now didn’t help matters at all. “I’m okay, mom. I was reading a horror comic and I thought I saw someone outside my window- but I just got carried away, that's all.”

Lucy stared at her son, trying to understand the excuse he was feeding her. She squinted her eyes at him. “You got carried away by a comic book?”

Sam tried not to flinch, he knew it sounded like bullshit, but it was the best he could come up with on the fly. “It was a scary comic mom. I’m sorry.”

The look on his mom's face made it clear she was frustrated. She couldn’t believe how her boys were acting, like she didn’t raise them better. “You know, I’ve just about had it with the both of you, you know that?” Sam nodded his head and looked down at his feet, and she almost forgave him then. But then her eyes landed on the kitchen, and her frustration flared up all over again. “What is this mess?”

Sam looked over to where his mom was talking about, and saw the spilt milk and open fridge door. God damnit, Mike. He tried telling her that it wasn’t his fault, but she wasn’t listening, not that he could blame her at this point. When he was done cleaning up the floor, Sam raced up to his room, pausing to see that Michael had long gone. Wasting no more time, he launched himself on his bed and called the Frog brothers again.

It took a few rings, but eventually, Edgar had answered the call. “What?” he asked, short and coarse. Sam rushed to answer, “Guys, it's me again.”

Edgar sighed from over the phone, “What, Sam? We told you to stake your brother, what more do you want?”

“Look guys, Michael and I talked, he’s going to try and talk to the vamps that got him, but there has to be something more that we can do!”

There was some vague conversation that Sam couldn’t hear, then Alan was speaking, “Do you know if he made his first kill? Can he still walk in sunlight?”

“No, he hasn’t killed anyone, and yes, he can still walk in sunlight.” Sam said, “That means he’s only half shit sucker, right?”

Alan grumbled into the phone, like he didn’t want to be entertaining this idea at all. “Yes, so technically, if you kill the head vampire, all half vampires would return to being human.” Sam was ready to celebrate, he was about to say something like “hell yeah!”, but then Alan asked something that made him cut the celebration short. “Does your brother know who the head vampire is?”

“Uh,” Sam mumbled, "No, I don't think so."

"We can't screw around anymore, Sam." Edgar said, taking the phone back. "Kill your brother, or we'll be forced to do it for you "

"Wait, no!" Sam shouted, desperate to think of something that would help. "We just gotta find the head vampire, right? We-" as he was talking, Sam suddenly thought of something. "Actually, I might know who the head vampire is."

"What?" Edgar asked, voice high and tight. "Well, this all started when my mom started working at Max's video store."

He could hear both the Frogs groaning. "Wait guys, hear me out! He doesn't come in till after dark, he has a dog that's always growling at people, and I read that vampires have hell hounds as companions!"

"Well duh, but-" Edgar started, but Sam cut him off. "If my mom is dating the head vampire, you guys can nail him and save Santa Carla!"

The Frogs were silent for a few seconds, so Sam tacked on "Truth, justice, and the American way triumphs, thanks to you two."

That seemed to convince them, because after a few more seconds, Edgar said "Alright, we'll check Max out. Tonight. Get ready, we'll come get you in ten minutes."

Sam froze, mouth open wide against the phone. "Tonight? Can't we wait until tomorrow?"

"This was your idea, Sam." Alan said, more rustling could be heard from the background. "If Max is clean, we're coming for your brother and his friends tomorrow. Be ready." Before Sam could say anything more, they hung up the phone.

--

When Michael got to the hotel, it was dark and quiet. There weren't as many candles lit, making shadows dance and flicker against the walls, and the only sounds Michael could hear were drops of water bouncing around the cave.

"David?" Michael called out, walking further into the hotel. The place was eerie now, without the boys there, dancing and laughing and joking around. "David? Anyone here?"

Where the hell were they? Michael was getting agitated, a hot irritation settling under his skin as he looked around the cave. If they weren't even here, he didn't know what he was going to do. Michael needed answers, he needed to know what the hell was happening to him.

"I'm not fucking around." The brunette said to the air. "I want answers, and I want them now!"

Silence. Michael snarled at nothing and turned around to stomp towards the exit, but then he heard an all too familiar voice echoing out the cave.

"I'm right here, Michael."

David was standing at the entrance, Dwayne, Paul and Marko lurking behind him. The platinum blond gave a wide smirk as he walked down into the cave, eyeing the angry halfling. “What’s going on?”

“What the hell did you do to me?” Michael demanded, walking right up to David and getting into his face. David cocked an eyebrow as the rest of the boys surrounded him, whispering and laughing. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Cut the bullshit! I’m hungry, I’m in pain, I was floating on the goddamn ceiling-”

“Woah,” Paul interrupted, sounding amazed, “You got there already? It took me a while-” Marko kicked Paul’s leg before he could continue, making the blond rocker yelp loudly. David cleared his throat and suddenly looked deadly serious. “You drank from the bottle, Michael. You’re one of us now.”

“But what the hell does that mean?” Michael was starting to feel drained, he was so tired of going around in circles, and it feels like he hasn’t gotten proper sleep in weeks. “What the fuck was in that bottle that makes me float off the ground and makes me want to eat my brother?”

The boys all looked at each other like they were having a silent conversation.

“Take it easy, man.” Dwayne said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. He was smiling like nothing was off or weird about this situation at all. “You’ll get the hang of it. Just go with the flow.”

Michael was about to ask what he’d “get the hang of”, but Marko spoke before he could. “It’s getting late, you should probably go home.” The way he spoke and the look he gave had an air of finality, like fighting would get him nowhere. This had been a huge waste of time.

“Fine.” Michael spit, shoving past David roughly as he walked towards the entrance. He would have to find answers some other way. As much as he hated it, he might have to resort to Sam’s weird friends. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but they seemed to be the only other ones who knew anything about-

“Wait!” Paul called out, making Michael stop in his tracks. He turned around and looked at Paul, who had a weird look on his face. His eyebrows were scrunched down and he held a hand to his middle. “Do you guys feel that?”

The others looked confused, but soon their faces contorted into concern and agitation. Marko’s hand shot to Paul's arm, gripping like his life depended on it, while Dwayne and David held onto each other, as if keeping each other from falling. Marko was panting, “What the fu-”

Suddenly, Markos words were cut off by a loud screeching sound. Michael nearly jumped out of his skin as the boys started shouting and screaming, falling to the ground hard. The halfling stared at them in shock.

“What happened?! What's wrong?!” Michael asked frantically, panicked, running back over and crouching over the pile of writhing bodies. No one could answer, the only sounds coming from them were grunts and whimpers of pain. Michael could only stand and watch, horrified that he had no idea what was going on.

After what felt like an eternity, the screaming stopped. The boys stopped convulsing on the ground, completely still and silent, like they passed out. The silence was deafening now. Michael slowly walked over to David, breathing heavily, anxious out of his mind. He placed a gentle hand to his cheek, finding him surprisingly warm. He checked his pulse, then, and found a shallow, but steady heart beat. Michael then checked the other boys and found the same warmth and beat. The teen sighed in relief, they were all alive, at least. They seemed to be out cold, though, and Michael knew that he needed to move them from the cold hard ground.

One by one, he moved each of the boys to a chair or couch, trying to make them as comfortable as possible. Michael looked around, but didn’t find any stashed food or water, so he decided to hurry out and get them something to eat when they woke up. He didn’t know if they would be hungry or not, but it would be worth the try.

Michael sped on his bike to the nearest convenience store and grabbed a basket, stuffing it with random chips and snacks. He also grabbed a few bottles of water and threw it in the basket. When he went up to the counter to pay, the cashier gave him an odd look, but he just smiled awkwardly. The total almost drained his wallet, which hurt, but there were more important things to worry about right now.

The trip back to the hotel was a bit of a pain in the ass, but he managed to get there in one piece. He parked his bike and hauled the food and water down into the cave, and when he was in the main lobby, he was startled to see that the boys were awake. They were all huddled around each other, holding and touching in whatever way they could. All of them wore similar shocked, concerned and disturbed expressions on their faces. It almost felt wrong to intrude on them, but he accidentally made a noise and alerted the boys to his presence.

“Michael?” David called out, but his voice was smaller, less sure. Michael immediately walked over to them, setting the bag down as he squatted next to the couch they were all piled in.

“Hey, are you guys okay? What the hell happened?” As he talked, Michael pulled out bottles of water and handed them out to each of the boys. They snatched the bottles out of his hands and opened them like they haven’t drank water in years, guzzling down the liquid and getting it all over themselves in the process.

“Woah, guys, slow down-” But they didn’t listen, not even if they started choking and coughing. When the waters were drained, Paul crawled over everyone to grab the bag full of snacks and dig through it.

“Michael.” David said, looking intensely at his face, studying every inch he could look at. He grabbed at Michaels arm and pulled him closer. “Do you feel any different? Did you change back?”

The brunette stared at him, bewildered. “Change? No, I feel the same as before.”

David's eyes widened, and Paul stopped tearing into a bag of potato chips, mouth gaping. “Wait, he’s still half? How’s that possible?”

Marko and Dwayne gave each other a disbelieving look, and Michael scrunched up his face in confusion. “Half what? What are you guys talking about?”

No one said anything for a long moment. David sighed and ran his hands through his spiked hair. “I guess we have no choice but to tell you.”

Michael watched as David sat up straighter, a pained look on his face, like his whole body ached. He looked uncomfortable as he said, “We were vampires, Michael. And you’re one, too. Half, anyway. You still haven’t made your first kill.”

So many thoughts and questions flooded Michaels mind at that moment. His first reaction was to call David crazy, but he remembered what it felt like to fly out his bedroom window, how painfully hungry he was and how loud he could hear Sam's heartbeat, even from the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror was fading and weak. Michael couldn’t fuckin believe this.

Michael stood up so fast he felt lightheaded. “So- you’re telling me,” He started, pacing in front of the couch. The rest of the boys were no longer paying attention, too busy devouring the snacks from the bag, but David was watching him walk back and forth. “That I’m a half vampire. An actual, honest to god vampire. That’s just fuckin great!” Michael shouted, and David winced at the sound.

“Wait.” The halfling stopped pacing and turned back to the platinum blond. “What do you mean you were a vampire?”

David blew air through his nose like an angry bull. He shifted around in his seat before answering, “We have a master. Or, I guess we did. If the vampire that turned you dies, you turn back into a human.”

“Which must be why Michael hasn’t turned back.” Dwayne chimed in suddenly, still chewing loudly on chips. Michael was lost at this point, which must have been clear on his face, cause Marko pitched in with, “You drank David’s blood from the bottle, not Max’s. David didn’t die, just turned back into a human. So, therefore, you can’t go back to being human.”

Michael didn’t know which fact he hated more, that his mom's dorky (now ex, he supposed) boyfriend was a head vampire, or that he drank actual blood. A lot of it, if he remembered properly. He groaned loudly and sank to the floor, head in his hands. “So you’re saying I'm stuck like this?”

“Well…” Paul started, but didn’t get to finish. David interrupted, irritation clear in his voice. “We don’t know. We don’t know jack shit.”

The tension was thick in the air. Michael had no idea what they were going to do now. Living in a sunken hotel may have been okay when they were vampires, but it’s not gonna fly being human. He knew he couldn’t just leave them here. Michael sighed and stood back up, walking over to the entrance. It was still dark out, but he figured it was going to be morning soon. He walked back down and stood in front of the boys.

“Look, we’ll figure out how to change me back,” David huffed at that, looking less than amused. Michael rolled his eyes. “But until then, you guys are basically homeless. Why don’t you come stay with me for a few days?”

The boys froze. They looked at each other, and they looked at Michael, wondering if this was some kind of joke. They had lived in that cave so long it felt like forever, they couldn’t imagine leaving what they considered their home.

“What about your mom? And your brother?” David asked, knowing that it couldn’t be that easy, right? Surely Michaels family would bitch about them being there. But Michael didn’t look bothered. “Sam can be an ass, but he’ll deal. And my mom wouldn’t kick you guys out.”

David was still hesitant. He still didn’t want to believe he was human again, after all these years. It hurts to even think about it. He felt a nudge against his shoulder, and when he looked over, he saw Marko, shrugging his shoulders.

“What do we have left to lose?”

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #tlb 1987 #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys marko #the lost boys paul #the lost boys michael #michael emerson #poly!lost boys #poly!lost boys x michael #michael x the lost boys #michael x david #michael x dwayne #michael x paul #michael x marko #95060 #lost boys fics #decay fic tag #requested

[merakiaes]

Familia - Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: Warning for slight OOC-Spooky and a change of the series’ original plot and storyline. There’s soe Spanish in here so you might have to look some phrases and words up. This took me nearly four days to complete so please leave a comment and let me know what you think. This is definitely too long to be proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. I hope you like it xx

Wordcount: 30,766 (Yup, you read that right)

Summary: You and Oscar have been together since you were seventeen, with a four-year-old daughter and another child on the way. When Ray returns after being absent from his sons’ lives for twelve entire years, tension is awakened between everyone and you’re determined not to let your family fall apart. 

Quick, Spanish words blended together with the bubbling sounds of the coffee maker on this early morning in the Diaz residence, filling the otherwise silent air.

You could make out the faint sound of the clock on the kitchen wall and through the open window right where you were standing, you could hear the early birds chirping and the leaves of the trees rustling with a light breeze.

The smell of coffee was invading your senses and the fresh air coming in through the window pulled at your hair where you stood by the sink, washing the plate Oscar had eaten his breakfast from only minutes before, but the warmth from the sunrays hitting your face and bare arms made up for the chilly morning breeze.

The man in question was sitting at the kitchen table with his phone pressed to his ear, speaking to Sad Eyes and waiting for the coffee you had promised to bring him when he had to answer the call.

He had, of course, protested, saying that you shouldn’t be doing as much work around the house as you did when you were heavily pregnant, but when hearing what his second in command had to say he had sat down pretty quickly.

The sound of his voice and the feeling of genuine peace this morning was enough to make you smile as you cut off the water and gave the plate a good shake before grabbing a towel and drying it off.

Once the surface was squeaky clean, or well, as clean as it could be with the deep, grey fork scratches from the frequent use, you put it back into its cabinet and brought down Oscar’s black coffee mug.

The bubbling of the coffee maker had quietened down by now, indicating that the coffee was done and ready to be consumed, and you wasted no time in filling the cup up to near the brim, only saving a little bit of space.

The cup was now releasing a cloud of steam that went all the way up to your face, causing your skin to grow damp.

But you paid it no mind, simply walking over to the refrigerator where you brought the open carton of milk out, briefly putting the mug down on the counter in order to be able to open it and pour some in.

Once you were done, you put the milk back into the fridge and grabbed the mug again, not letting your eyes leave it even once as you carefully waddled over to the table where Oscar was sitting, not wanting to spill the coffee on the floor.

You might have filled it a little too generously and it wasn’t the easiest of tasks so balance it when you could barely balance yourself on your feet with the weight of your round belly, but you managed, reaching Oscar within the next few seconds.

He looked up at you the second he saw you approaching. Once you reached him, the hand that wasn’t holding the phone reached out for your belly, pressing against it protectively before taking the steaming hot cup of coffee from your hand.

You smiled softly, wiping your hands on the front of your jeans to rid them of the little coffee you had spilled while waddling over from the kitchen.

“You heard anything from Cesar yet?” You asked, keeping your voice down to not disturb his call.

You watched as he took a gulp of the coffee before shaking his head, mouthing ‘no’ as he listened to Sad Eyes speak on the other side of the line, all while holding eye-contact with you.

When you had gone to wake Cesar up, you had found his bed empty like you had so many other mornings before. Him sneaking out when you were sleeping to go sneak into Monse’s house wasn’t a rare occurrence.

Still, especially now when you were pretty much constantly controlled by your hormones, the motherly worry came naturally whenever he wasn’t safe at your side. But you were sure he was fine. If he wasn’t, Oscar would have known. He could always sense when his mano was in danger.

Dropping the subject, guessing he would show up before going to school, you wordlessly leaned down to kiss Oscar’s cheek before leaving him to his call and coffee again, instead heading towards your shared bedroom.

Reaching the door, you grabbed the handle and carefully pushed it open, peeking your head inside.

The room was dark, the blinds still down, but just enough light managed to escape in through the cracks of said blinds to allow you to see your daughter where she laid in yours and Oscar’s bed.

She was laying facing the door, her long, black locks spread out in a mess over the white pillow, her chest rising and falling with soft snores leaving her nose and her thumb sucked into her mouth.

The sight of her never failed to make your heart skip a beat in your chest, just when it did when you saw Oscar. Neither of you had lived very happy lives but she was the greatest gift God ever could have given you.

You had met Oscar when you were both no older than seventeen, and Cesar ten. You had both been in a really bad place, with Oscar struggling to carry an entire gang on his back while simultaneously having to raise his brother and with you jumping between your friends in a desperate attempt to flee the system you had been forced into at an early age.

To a start, your relationship had only been about a warm body to hold when things got too heavy and you couldn’t go through it alone.

Oscar wasn’t too fond of feelings and lovey-dovey shit and always had to show himself as hard and emotionally unavailable, and you… well, you just didn’t trust very easily.

But when you started staying over after your nightly fun and he saw you with Cesar in the mornings, he couldn’t help but fall head over heels in love with you, and when he started inviting you over for activities that didn’t include rolling around in the sheets, your feelings started developing for him too.

You never officially moved in with them, but you never really left either. You started making sure that three meals a day was on the table for them and started taking initiative to walk Cesar to and home from school when Oscar got caught up with disobeying the law.

A year later, you were playing house and happy family pretty much on a routine with little to no effort at all, everything coming naturally.

The Santos accepted you into the family, Cesar looked up to you like you were his mother despite the fact that you were only seven years older and Oscar was already planning on spending the rest of his life with you.

On your eighteenth birthday, he gifted you a promise ring and kept an identical one for himself. He wasn’t one to get all cute and mushy and this time was no different, but you knew it was a big step for him to take so the way he handled it didn’t really matter.  

It had been one of the best days of your life. Not only were you now claimed by Spooky, but you were also free from the system and free to be your own individual, and on the same night you found out that you were pregnant and expecting your first child together.

But of course with your luck, the happiness was short-lived.

The next night, Oscar was arrested and sentenced to four years in prison, leaving you and Cesar alone. Of course, you still had the Santos to provide for you. Oscar being gone didn’t change the fact that you were a part of the family.

But you didn’t like having them around the house when Oscar wasn’t there so the only one you really hung out with was Sad Eyes, who came by a few times a week to check up on you and leave you a roll of cash for rent, food and other necessities.

How exactly they got the money you didn’t know, neither Oscar nor Sad Eyes liking to involve you into the gang-business, but you didn’t ask questions.

You went to visit Oscar in prison every Tuesday, Sad Eyes and Mario taking turns driving you while Cesar stayed at the Martinez residence until you got home when he was still too young to be left home alone.

Cesar never went to visit him in person, though. Oscar didn’t want him to have to see him stuck behind that thick glass in that awful jumpsuit, so he only ever talked to him over the phone once or twice a week.

During your pregnancy, Mario was there for you every day and you managed to become really good friends which you knew Oscar was forever grateful for.

There weren’t many people the infamous Spooky respected and trusted, but Mario was one of them and he was happy that you were able to hang around someone on the right side of the law.

After first hearing about your blooming friendship when Mario had driven you to visitation day the first time, Oscar more or less forced the slightly younger guy to go with you to all of your ultrasounds from then on, wanting him to witness everything that he was missing so that he could re-tell it to him during visitation.

Mario was too scared to turn him down so he made sure he was free to accompany you to all of your check-ups and by the time you were approaching the end of your pregnancy, you had lost count of the amount of time Mario had been mistaken for the dad.

Much to his horror, he had been forced to be present at the time of birth, as well. Geny Martinez was there too at your request and she was able to keep her calm, having gone through the procedure of childbirth before, but the seventeen-year-old Mario had never been as terrified as he was then.

Still, he forced himself to sit through it in order to be able to tell Oscar about it at the next visitation, during which you brought him pictures of your baby girl and decided on a name.

It took a while to get on the same page, but after a good half hour of bickering back and forth, you finally managed to decide on the name Lucía with a helpful input from Mario who had been sitting by and listening to your fighting in silence up until then.

You had been planning to talk to Oscar about making Mario Lucía’s godfather after that, something you hadn’t told Mario yet.

But before you could even mention it, Oscar, much to yours and Mario’s surprise, was the one to bring the topic up, telling him it was only right after how much he had been there for his baby mama when he couldn’t.

And of course, Mario gladly accepted, basically jumping with happiness when you left that afternoon.

Him and his family continued to be there for you now that you didn’t only have Cesar to care for, but a newborn baby, as well.

It was all overwhelming to you, all of the sudden having so many people jumping at the chance to help you when you had grown up all on your own.

You continued to visit Oscar on your own, bringing him new pictures and stories every time, but you never brought Lucía to see him.

You wanted him to meet his daughter and you knew that he wanted nothing more in the entire world than to do so, but he didn’t want her first memory of him to be of him in prison, much like he hadn’t wanted Cesar to see him like that.

So you had no other choice but to respect his wishes, instead showing your daughter pictures of her father every day as she grew bigger, to put a face to the man she would be calling daddy when he got out.

And his sign-out day was soon upon you, four entire years later. Both you and Oscar were twenty-two at the time, Cesar fifteen and Lucía had just turned three.

Four entire years he had gone without touching you or seeing his mano face to face, but that was nothing in comparison to the three years he had been forced to endure knowing he had a daughter waiting for him on the outside, a daughter he had never gotten to meet.

He didn’t show it, but he was so nervous that he almost threw up on the spot when he came out of the building inside which he had been locked up for the past four years, to see you standing in front of his red Impala with Lucía balanced on your hip.

She had smiled upon seeing his familiar face, recognizing it from the pictures you had shown her every day, and stretched her arms out for him with a gleeful laugh.

That was the first time since meeting him that you had seen him cry, tears welling up in his eyes as he took his daughter into his arms, felt her skin against his for the first time ever.

You had stayed there, in the middle of the parking lot, for a good ten minutes. He had been holding her so carefully, not moving an inch, almost as if he was scared that he would break her if he did.

Once he finally broke free from his trance and managed to relax, he had taken you to the beach where you spent your first ever hour together, eating ice cream and watching the waves.

It had been perfect, but also very comical.

Oscar obviously knew how to be a father. He had raised his brother on his own throughout his entire teenage years, and all he really had to do was the exact opposite of what his dad had.

But he had absolutely no idea how to handle a baby, so to say it had been hilarious to see him chasing after Lucía as she, in turn, chased after a couple of seagulls, was the biggest understatement of the century.

He had been so careful with her, so wary and pretty much walking around on eggshells the entire time you spent together. And when she fell and started crying, he was at an absolute loss of what to do.

But then he picked her up, held her against his chest, and she stopped crying immediately, nuzzling her face into his neck and wrapping her short arms around him, and he was absolutely gone in the sudden burst of love he felt.

Ever since then, he barely left her alone, and you knew it was only going to get worse as she grew older. You didn’t even want to think about how protective he would get when she started getting interested in boys.

You loved her to bits but Oscar… the love he held for her was on an entirely different level. He would throw himself into the line of fire to take a bullet for you, but for her, for her he would burn down entire cities if he had to.

He was in love with you and had been since the moment you first met, but it was in her that he had found his true happiness and that, in turn, only made you even more happy.

The sound of a car door slamming shut somewhere out on the street suddenly cut through the air and you jumped in fright, a hand automatically flying to clutch your chest in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

You had gotten so lost in your train of thought that you had no idea how long you had been standing there for.

You shook yourself back to reality and sent a final glance to your sleeping daughter before you carefully closed the door again, allowing her to sleep in. You left a small crack open in the door so that you would be able to hear her if she woke up and cried for you, and headed back into the living room area of the house.

Oscar was still sitting where you left him, his back turned to you where he sat at the table.

His eyes met yours as you re-entered the room and he started saying goodbye to Sad Eyes on the phone, only a second later removing the phone from his ear to end the call on the screen.

As he did so, you approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning your head down to press a kiss to the side of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating smell of his skin and kneading his shoulders with your hands gently.

“Everything okay?” You questioned and he hummed, raising the now almost empty cup of coffee to his lips to take a gulp while putting his phone down on the table.

Just then, the front door slammed open, causing both of you to jump with surprise and look over to where Cesar had now barged into the house, his eyes wide with worry.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Cesar yelled out, head looking around in search for his brother for a second before finding you at the table, then walking up to you while pointing his thumb behind him. “There’s a dude posted up outside!”

You tensed at the sound of his words, your hand instantly going to your belly, and Oscar wasted no time in standing up from his seat.

“Baby?” You questioned, and he turned to you, pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, hand on top of your own where it rested on your stomach.

“Wait inside, mamas.” He instructed before turning around and grabbing his gun from on top of the cupboard standing in the corner and marching outside, cocking the gun as he walked through the doorway and out into the sunshine.

You exchanged a look with Cesar and as usual, before you could even think to stop him, he did the exact opposite of what he was told and rushed after his brother.

“Get back inside!” You could hear Oscar yell at him almost immediately and he did as told, backing into the doorway again and looking back at you.

Curiosity got the best of you when you still hadn’t heard any threats or gunshots from outside and you waddled up to your future brother-in-law, holding on to his arm while you attempted to peek outside.

His hand came up to grab yours and together, you slowly moved a few steps further out on the porch.

Your eyes instantly found Oscar where he was standing on the lawn, body tensed up. And then your eyes flickered over to where he was looking, finding a man standing around on the other side of the street by a tree.

He was wearing a white tank top and blue jeans with a belt, had black, slicked-back hair, a big tattoo running across his chest with a few smaller ones on his arms. He was smoking a cigarette, leaning against the tree as him and Oscar stared each other down, and he had a bag waiting at the ground beside him.

It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for you to connect the dots and recognize the man from Oscar’s stories, figuring his identity out almost immediately.

But Cesar was clueless, taking another step forward and losing his grip on you in the process, looking between his brother and the stranger with confused, brown eyes.

“Oscar?” He called out, taking another step closer to him. “Who is that?”

The man’s eyes moved from Oscar to Cesar as he made himself known, and even though you couldn’t see Oscar’s face right then, you knew him good enough to know that he was glaring.

“Our father.” He answered without missing a beat, confirming your suspicions.

Cesar froze in his spot, his eyes turning slightly wider, while Oscar turned his head to the side and tucked the gun into the hem of his shorts, turning around to come back inside.

He shoved past Cesar who was still standing rooted to his spot, and you reached your hand out to grab his arm once he reached you in the doorway.

“Baby.” You mumbled, pulling him to you, and he made no move to stop you, his hand simply coming to rest on your belly and his forehead pressing against yours as you backed into the house together.

“I thought I told you to stay inside.” He muttered, annoyed, but his touch was as soft as ever, not threatening in the slightest.

“I know, I’m sorry…” You apologized quietly, looking up at him hesitantly. “Should I put on some more coffee?”

His soft eyes turned stern. “No. He’s not staying.” He told you surely, shutting the subject down.

You nodded silently and sat down with him in the sofa, Cesar coming in and sitting down beside you with his father in tow a few seconds later.

While you and Oscar sat close to each other in the furthest corner of the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, Cesar sat at the opposite corner, his elbows leaning on his thighs and his legs manspreading just like his older brother’s were beside you.

Ray’s eyes instantly found you where you were sitting, flickering between Oscar’s face to yours, and along to Oscar’s hand that was still resting protectively on your belly, thumb absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of your shirt and sporting a thick, golden wedding band identical to the one on your ring finger.

A look of shock momentarily crossed over his face, but he quickly covered it up, dropping his bag to the floor and starting to look around, now smoking a fresh cigarette by the looks of it.

The air remained thick with silence for a good minute and you almost felt like you were about to suffocate from the tension.

Oscar was tense beside you, his leg bouncing up and down in an attempt to keep himself calm and so far, he was doing an alright job.

You had expected him to react a lot harsher when the time came that his dad would be returning home and you were proud of him for being able to stay calm, even if you knew he was only doing it for you and Lucía and not for himself.

But then Ray walked over to the kitchen table and tapped the excess ashes of his cigarette into the mug that Oscar had been drinking coffee from only a few minutes ago, and he instantly reacted beside you.

“Can you not smoke in the house?” He spat out at his father, his face pulled into a murderous glare. “It’s not good for the baby.”

“Oscar.” You spoke before you could stop yourself, your face turning to meet his glare with a pointed look. He only stared at you for a second, before turning back to his dad, his glare now even fiercer.

You turned to look at the older man too, forcing yourself to smile. “It’s fine.” You told him and he nodded at you, but Oscar was quick again.

“It’s not fine.” He snapped, and you closed your eyes, breathing out deeply through your nose.

It wasn’t that you were angry with Oscar for being rude. He had every right to be and quite frankly, you hadn’t even expected him to let his father into the house.

But still, you always got anxious when he was in a bad mood, no matter what the cause behind it was, and the stress wasn’t good for the baby so you had to do everything in your power to stay calm, the tension making you so uncomfortable you would have rather melted through the floor than stay there right now.

Luckily, however, Ray stayed polite even with his son’s anger directed toward him and nodded his head, looking directly at you as he put the cigarette out in an ashtray standing on the table. “Sorry.”

You forced another smile through the tension and nodded, silently telling him thank you.

“So when did you get out?” Cesar finally joined the conversation after having sat quiet up until then, obviously nervous judging by the way he was twisting his hands around.

“Yesterday.”

Ray looked around some more as he answered, and Cesar smiled. “How was the trip down?” He asked, but Ray barely even spared him a glance.

“Long.”

The tone in his voice was bored and for a moment, you were overwhelmed by the urge to slap him upside the head and tell him to sound more interested. But of course you didn’t, keeping quiet as you watched him walk around the room.

“Looks the same, even smells the same.” He muttered but stopped himself as he came over a photograph on the wall. It was of you, Oscar, Cesar and Lucía on his first morning home from prison.

You looked like absolute crap, just having woken up at the time, but Oscar had insisted that you hang it up and who were you to say no?

Ray hummed at the sight of the picture, his fingers touching the frame lightly. “Almost the same, at least.” He said, before turning around.

You glanced at Oscar as Ray walked over to where you were sitting, finding his face pulled into an expression of pure and utter hatred as he watched his dad sink down on the stool across from you.  

The feeling of unease only intensified inside of you now that the only thing between him and Oscar was a coffee table, feeling hopeless that you couldn’t do anything to ease the tension, and Cesar was feeling equally as awkward about the entire situation.

Ray looked at his youngest son, raising his head in a questioning manner. “You in school?” He asked, and Cesar opened his lips to reply.

Before he got the chance to get as much as a sound out, however, Oscar beat him to it. “Of course he is.”

Their father’s eyes flickered over to him and he nodded. “How about you?” He asked, Spanish accent thick. “Going to college?”

His question drew a scoff from Oscar’s lips. “Seriously?” He questioned.

You could feel him getting angrier for every second passing and out of pure instinct, grabbed a hold of the hand he had resting on your belly, a move that didn’t go unnoticed by Ray.

The man in question quickly looked away from your now intertwined fingers and back to his oldest son, changing the subject. “You’re about to be a father.” He pointed out, and the words instantly caused your lips to tug up into a smile.

“I am a father.” He corrected his own dad, the hidden pride in his voice causing a flurry of butterflies to go through your stomach.

If Ray hadn’t been shocked enough to see you pregnant when he first entered, he was almost at loss for words now. “You have another one?” He asked and Oscar answered without missing a beat.

“Lucía. She’s four.” The corner of his lip twitched upward for the shortest second, but he quickly realized his mistake and hardened his face again as the next question was delivered.

“How long have you been together?” Ray asked.  

“Almost seven.” Oscar answered flatly, again without missing a beat.

The silence was really deafening, thick to the point where it was almost painful to be there. More than anything you would have rather just slipped away and gone back to bed where Lucía was still sleeping.

But you didn’t want to be rude and you knew that Oscar preferred to have you by his side when things were uncomfortable for him, so you stayed, no matter how much you didn’t want to.

“It- It’s nice to see you.” Cesar spoke then, breaking the silence again. You smiled at him, adoring him for how he was obviously trying to ease the tension, but Ray only nodded, not answering and not looking away from Oscar, which caused your smile to fall slightly.

Cesar didn’t give up, trying again. “Do you have any plans?”

This time, Ray turned his head to look at him, shaking his head. “No. Just wanted to see you guys before heading up to Bakersfield. Got a job lined up.” He informed him, and before he got the chance to answer, Oscar took the wheel again.

“Cesar, you need to get to school.” He spoke sternly, his eyes not leaving Ray, who had now looked back to him again.  

Cesar threw his arms out in exasperation, looking to his older brother and looking ready to protest, but one stern look was more than enough to make him rethink that decision.

Instead, he sighed, turning to look at his dad again. “I’ll see you later.” He said, voice discouraged as he grabbed his bag from the floor beside him and begrudgingly standing up.

You watched as he headed for the door, reaching out to grab the handle, but before he opened the door he stopped himself and turned back around.

“Hey, do you maybe, uh, I don’t know, wanna hang? After school?” He asked unsurely and Ray tore his eyes away from Oscar’s for a moment to look up at him.

“Sure.” He answered.

Cesar’s discouraged attitude was exchanged by a happy one almost instantly and he nodded. “Cool.” He said and without another word to any of you, opened the door and left.

“So where are you staying?” Oscar asked the second his mano was out the door, causing Ray to turn back to him.

“Here.” He answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and you automatically braced yourself, thinking that Oscar was going to object.

But instead, he only sniffed, pulling a hand over his mouth and chin and standing up, clearing his throat and walking out the front door, leaving you alone with his dad.

You knew he didn’t really want you, Lucía and his unborn baby around his dad, but you knew that he also knew that you would have to talk to him sooner or later, which you guessed was why he hadn’t forced you to come outside with him.

You hadn’t expected Ray to actually speak to you so when he did, you were surprised.

“He really hates me, huh?” He asked, looking down at his hands where he was fiddling with his fingers.

“No.” The word slipped out before you could help yourself, causing him to look up at you. “He loves you. A bit too much, if you ask me.”

You hadn’t meant for the words to come out as harsh as they did, but in retrospect, he deserved nothing better, something he seemed to know.

“I deserve that.” He agreed with your thoughts, giving you a somber look.

“You do. He’s really hurt and has every right to be. But you know…” You trailed off, swallowing and shrugging your shoulders gently. “It’s not too late. If you stay, he might forgive you someday in the future. It’s going to take a long time and you’ll really have to work for it, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”

He listened to you intently. You could really see how concentrated he was on your words and you appreciated the fact that he was actually partaking in the conversation you were having.

He nodded his head slowly, spacing out for a moment, but then pulled himself back to reality and waved a hand at your stomach.

“How far along are you?” He asked, and automatically, your face instantly lit up in a wide smile.

“I’m due in a month.”

His lips stretched into a smile of his own, although much smaller. “Congrats.” He congratulated and you nodded in thanks as he kept talking. “What about the other one? Lucy? Where is she?”

“Lucía.” You corrected, motioning with a hand down the hall. “She’s still asleep so you’ll meet her later.”

A hesitant expression crossed over his face. “You think Oscar would be okay with that?”

You understood his worries because you knew for a fact that Oscar wouldn’t be happy about it, but you still offered him a comforting smile. “If you’re staying here, I don’t really think he’s got much of a choice. She’s curious so she wouldn’t stay away from you even if we told her to.”

He hummed, nodding his head toward you again, this time looking at the ring at your finger. “You married?”

Without even noticing it, you began twisting the golden ring around your finger. “No. Not yet.” You replied. “We’ve been engaged for five years but it’s not the right time for a wedding, you know, with the Santos and everything going on. But I hope, someday.”

“But the timing was right for a kid?” He asked and his face pulled into one of regret almost instantly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

But you took no offense to it, simply shaking your head. “It wasn’t planned and we would have rather waited until we had a more secure life going, but…” You paused, smiling gently as you remember how happy Oscar had gotten when you gave him the news. “When I got pregnant there wasn’t much else to do but go through with it because getting an abortion wasn’t an option for neither of us.”

“Do you know what gender it is?” Ray motioned for your stomach once more and again, you shook your head.

“No, Oscar wants it to be a surprise.” You told him.

He nodded, eyes flickering between your stomach and your face. “What are you hoping for?”

You snorted, rubbing your hands over your stomach gently. “I would like a boy for a change but Oscar is hoping for another girl.” You told him, rolling your eyes. “He thinks the risk of him fucking them up, the risk of them walking in his footsteps down the wrong road, is smaller if they’re girls.”

A part of you thought the logic behind his reasoning was nothing but ridiculous, but another part understood the pressure of giving them a better life than he was given.

“I didn’t have a good dad and I ended up the way I did because of him.” Ray told you then. “I never thought I’d be a good dad and I wasn’t, and it’s because of that Oscar ended up the way he did. But it’s not too late for him, to turn things around.”

He was unsure of himself as he spoke and the closer you looked at him, the easier it became to identify the shame behind his eyes. You knew he didn’t deserve your sympathy, but you couldn’t help it.

You tried your hardest to push the feeling of secondhand sorrow to the back of your head, almost feeling like you were betraying Oscar just by feeling it.

“I know.” You agreed with a small smile and he nodded.

“Do you think he knows?”

“He does.” You confirmed, shrugging your shoulders with a sad smile. “He just has to deal with it in his own time.”

Ray hummed, averting his eyes from you and looking around the room. “He’s lucky to have you to guide him. You seem to love him and Cesar a lot.”

“I do. More than anything.” You said and he turned back to look at you with an awkward glance.

“That’s good.” He said. “They both need someone like you in their lives, to keep them away from the bad stuff.”

“Well, Oscar was already mixed up with it when I met him but I’m doing my best to prevent him from getting stuck in it too deep. And as for Cesar, you’d catch me dead before I let him get caught up in any of it.”

You thought back to when Cuchillos had wanted Cesar jumped out of the Santos when he had failed his task to kill Latrell.

Because of a lot of yelling from your side, Oscar had agreed not to push him away, but you weren’t sure he would have done the same if you hadn’t been there.

Either way, going against Cuchillos put a lot of heat on all of you, especially Oscar. They were forced to make up their debt by setting the Prophets up with the money the Santos had robbed from a bank the week before and get them all arrested.

So that was one gang gone from the streets, and it had been pretty quiet since, but now you heard rumors about the kids from 19th Street going around to all of the business on their block, threatening people into paying them rent, which was a new problem in itself.

But you were sure Oscar had it under control. They may have been violent, but they were just kids, most of them no older than fifteen.

If there was anything you had learned from analyzing the other kids in the system while you had still been there, it was that the cause of anger most of the times found its source in them wanting one thing and one thing only; security, which could be used to bargain with them.

It would have been harder if they had been older. Then, they most likely wouldn’t have been after anything in particular, just power, like the Prophets had been.

Getting them off the streets had cleared Oscar and Cesar’s debt with Cuchillos but she was still hanging on his ass, more than she had been before. She was doubting the extents he would go to in order to make sure she was happy, a problem she hadn’t been having before he met you and had a child.

It was constantly unsafe for you and Lucía to go outside and if Oscar got to choose, you wouldn’t have been going outside at all. But you refused to be caged inside like some animal and he knew that both Lucía and you needed the fresh air and human interaction, so he had no other choice but to allow it.

He felt a bit safer with the Santos keeping a watchful eye over you whenever you went anywhere.

You had all heard rumors about the previous generation of Santos turning their back on one of their own some years ago but luckily, this generation of Santos were more loyal to each other than to Cuchillos.

They loved you like you were family and would do anything to keep you safe.

“He’s a good kid. Cesar.” Ray nodded his head, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the conversation you had almost forgetting you were still in the middle of.

You nodded your head, returning your gaze to him. “He is.” You confirmed. “He’s got a lot of potential. Both of them do, even if Oscar thinks his is long gone.”

His lips twitched every so lightly at your words, his heart unbeknownst to you swelling with pride. But before either of you could say anything else, the sound of a light cry broke through the air.

Both yours and Ray’s heads instantly turned toward the hallway leading to yours and Oscar’s bedroom, and you wasted no time in moving to stand up at the sound of your daughter’s intensifying cries.

She could get extremely confused and disoriented when she woke up alone so you wanted to get to her as quickly as you possibly could.

But getting out of the low couch was easier said than done when you were heavily pregnant. Luckily, twelve years in prison didn’t seem to have stolen all of Ray’s manners, the older man wasting no time in wordlessly standing up and offering you his hands.

You took them gratefully, thanking him softly under your breath and allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“I’ll be right back.” You told him, offering him a last smile before waddling past him and in the direction of your bedroom.

You held on to the wall for support as you walked, reaching your destination in no time despite the slow pace you were forced to walk at. Pushing the door open, Lucía’s cries instantly quietened down as she found your form in the doorway.

She was still lying in the exact same position that you had left her in; turned towards the door with her thumb in her mouth, only now her eyes were wide open and glassy, staring back at you.

“Good morning, baby.” You greeted her as you walked inside, and she wasted no time in shuffling up in the bed.

You walked past her and directly to the windows, pulling the blinds up to let the sunshine into the dark room. Turning back around, you found her shielding her eyes with her arms, sitting on the edge of the low bed, if that’s even what you could call it.

It was just a thick mattress on the floor, without an actual bedframe. Oscar had taken the frame down and gotten rid of it the second he got home from prison, claiming it was too dangerous for Lucía to be sleeping that high up without any kind of fence at the sides.

You didn’t enjoy sleeping so far down to the floor, especially not now when you were pregnant and could barely stand up by yourself, but you hadn’t stopped him, allowing him to be a father for the first time in three years.

Lucía let out a small whimper, rubbing her eyes and getting off the bed, walking over to you. She held her arms out, her blue comfort blanket hanging from one of her hands, and you gave her a sad look.

“You know mommy can’t carry you, baby.” You told her, putting a hand on top of her head. “My stomach is in the way.”

You pulled a hand through her messy, black curls, breathing out in relief when she simply sniffed and lowered her arms again rather than throwing a fit.

It would seem you had caught her on a good day, much to your luck as you knew her meeting with Ray would have been chaotic to say the least if she would have been in a bad mood.

Taking her hand, you wordlessly led her out of the room, taking it slow so that her short legs could keep up with you. When you walked back into the living room, Ray was still standing in the middle of the room, now facing you and appearing to have been waiting for your return.

Once he caught sight of Lucía, a flurry of emotions instantly flickered through his eyes and face, but the second she caught sight of him, she stopped right in her step, cowering behind your leg.

Still holding her hand, you were forced to stop with her, and you looked down at her. “You want to say hello?” You questioned, watching as she shook her head and hid even further behind your legs.

But Ray didn’t seem to take it personally, staying in his spot to not frighten her and smiling softly to himself.

“Shy.” He pointed out, and as that word would be the last one you would use to describe your daughter, you laughed.

“She won’t be when she wakes up properly so I’d brace myself already if I were you.” You warned him, looking down as Lucía stepped out from behind your legs, tugging at your hand and cautious eyes never leaving Ray’s form.

Despite your back and every muscle in your body screaming at you not to, you bent down and picked her up, grateful that she wasn’t very heavy. Once she was secured on your hip, she wrapped her arms around your neck and carefully dared to peak through her curls at Ray, who was now walking closer.

“Es bella.” He complimented his granddaughter, smiling as he pointed a finger at his eyes. “Has Oscar’s eyes. And his curls, too.”

“Yeah, she does.” You chuckled, looking at her. “She didn’t get much from me.”

Ray watched you as you brought a hand up to her face and pulled a curl away from her face, the strand of hair wet with the tears still fresh on her cheeks.

“Is he a good dad?” He asked, causing you to look up at him as he shrugged. “Better than me, I mean.”

“The best. He would do anything for her.” You smiled. “She loves him to pieces, almost never leaves him alone.”

Lucía sucked on her thumb, looking up at you with big eyes. “Quiero a papa.” She mumbled out, her light voice muffled.

At her words, you raised an eyebrow at Ray, who was now smiling in amusement. “You see?” You questioned, before turning your attention back to her. “Let’s go tell daddy you’re awake, yeah?”

She buried her face in the crook of your shoulder in agreement and you turned your attention back to Ray. After him asking you to use the shower and you pointing him in the right direction of the towel cabinet, you bid him goodbye for now and headed outside with Lucía still in your arms.

You spotted Oscar at the driveway immediately, his body bent down and head hidden beneath the hood of his car, hands working away on something inside.

A smile grazed your lips at the sweet sight of his tan arms under the sunlight and Lucía looked up the second the familiar sound of a wrench being twisted reached her ears.

“Papá!” She squealed out, instantly drawing the attention of Oscar. His lips turned up and he dropped the wrench, wiping his hands off on a red rag before kneeling down and opening his arms.

Lucía immediately started twisting her body in your arms, wanting to be put down, and you gladly granted her wish and put her down on her feet, having to stop on the porch for a moment to stretch your aching back.

While you did so, you watched with a smile as Lucía ran into Oscar’s arms, who in turn wasted no time in picking her up against his chest. “¿Dormiste bien?” He asked her, and you waddled your way down the steps of the porch to approach them.

Lucía nodded to answer his question, not very talkative when she had just woken up, and Oscar brought his hand up to the back of her head, pressing a kiss to her forehead and mumbling fondly against her skin. “Mi princesita.”

His eyes drifted over to you when he saw you approaching then, your hand covering your face from the bright sun.

“Did you talk to him?” He nodded at you, wasting no time in cutting to the chase.

You hummed in response, standing up on your tippy-toes in order to press a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah.” You answered honestly, feeling his eyes on the side of your face as you switched your attention to Lucía where she was resting her head against Oscar’s shoulder.

“What did he say?” Oscar asked, and you answered simply.

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” He questioned again and this time you turned to look at him.

“Just stuff.” You smiled, bringing your hand up to his cheek. “Don’t worry about it.” You pulled him down to be able to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss, but the second you pulled apart again, he went right back to interrogating you.

“Did Luci talk to him?” He asked, his face now turned into a glare.

You shook your head, dropping your hand from his face with a sigh when you realized you wouldn’t be able to cure his foul mood right then, not that you blamed him for being angry in the first place. “No. She’s still drowsy from waking up so she was a bit shy. She didn’t cry though so that’s a good sign.”

He hummed, turning his attention to Lucía. When he looked at her, she brought her head up from his chest and stared right back, her nose scrunching up when he brought his hand up to her face to move a strand of hair that had stuck to her cheek, just like you had done minutes before.

After making sure her face was free from hair, he turned back to you, looking you up and down and nodding his head slightly when he reached your feet. “Your shoelace is up.”

You looked down at his words, finding that the shoelace of your left Nike shoe was, in fact, undone. But before you could even think about trying to tie it yourself, not that you would have been able to,  he had put Lucía down on her feet and gone down on one knee, lifting your foot up to his thigh.  

“I got it.” He told you simply, tying your laces up in no time. When he dropped your foot back down and stood up, an uncomfortable pain suddenly went through your stomach, forcing a gasp out of your lips.

Oscar was alerted immediately, watching as your hands automatically went to your stomach. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his entire attitude turning serious and his hands coming to rest on top of yours,

“Nothing.” You quickly answered, smiling as you got used to the uncomfortable feeling. “He’s just kicking. Here, give me your hand.”

Without waiting for a reply, you moved your hands from underneath his and grabbed his wrist, moving it to the place where your baby was kicking the hardest.

“She’s kicking.” He corrected you with a small glare while you moved his hand around, causing you to roll your eyes and drop his wrist.

“You always have to ruin the moment, don’t you?”

“No, espera.” He said as you began moving away from his touch, moving right after you in order to keep his hands on your stomach.

You smirked at him, shaking your head. “Too late now, papi. She stopped kicking.” You turned to Lucía, holding your hand out. “Come on, mija. Let’s go.”

Oscar watched as she took your outstretched hand and stood at your side, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Where are you going?” He questioned, and even though there would never be a day when you weren’t thankful for his protection, you rolled your eyes at the defensive tone in his voice.

“We’re taking a walk to the store.” You told him. “The fridge is nearly empty and we need to stock up on food now that we’ve got another mouth to feed.”

“He can pay for his own damn food.” Oscar quickly spat, eyes turning hard. “You’re not his sirvienta.”

“Oscar.” You warned with a glare of your own. “Don’t lose your temper in front of her.” You instinctively pushed your daughter further behind your leg to shield her from Oscar’s murderous face.

He turned his head to the side the second your words reached his ears, taking a deep breath through his nose and calming himself down before turning back around. His face was still cold and guarded, but not nearly as furious as it had been a few seconds ago.

“Be careful.” He ordered you softly, one of his hands finding its way to the top of Lucía’s head while the other rested on your belly. He leaned his head down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, amores míos.”

“We love you, too.” You smiled, squeezing his hand with yours.

He pulled away from you after another two quick kisses and turned to Lucía, raising a playful eyebrow at her. “Sé bueno para tu madre, ¿de acuerdo?” He held his pinky finger out and she hooked her much smaller one with his, taking her thumb out of her mouth.

“Prometo.” She answered with a toothy grin.

“Good girl.” He ruffled her hair, chuckling in amusement as her face pulled into a glare, her small hands trying to swat his hand away.

Turning back to you, he gave you a chaste kiss to the lips. “I’ll see you soon.” He said, giving your stomach one last caress before turning back to the car, allowing you and Lucía to walk away and head for the store.

Being pregnant was always one huge dilemma. Your ankles were constantly swollen and your back felt like it was about to snap in two pretty much all of the time. But in order for your ankles not to get even more swollen and for your back not to get even more stiff, you had to walk around pretty much all day, which was never free of pain.

Luckily, you lived pretty close to the store you usually shopped at and the store in question was still on Santos territory which you knew was the only reason that Oscar let you and Lucía walk there alone.

His boys all lived spread out through the same neighborhood as you did and when they weren’t out patrolling or participating in illegal activities, they were always sitting out on their lawns or porches, watching over the street and by doing so, also watching over you.

The walk that would have taken no longer than five minutes for anyone else took about fifteen for you.

Not only could you not walk very quickly with the extra weight you were carrying around and with Lucía’s short legs, but now that she had fully woken up, her usual overly social personality had come back to the surface, pretty much forcing her to stop and greet every neighbor who happened to be outside. And let’s not even talk about the many times she spotted an animal.

It was safe to say that it took a while for you to reach your destination and you were sure that if Oscar hadn’t known how his daughter functioned when she was out in the world, he would have come after you, worried out of his mind, a long time ago.

But he was very well aware of how she functioned. After all, he had gotten used to it before she was even born, her absentmindedness and tendency to get easily distracted being pretty much the only thing she had inherited from you.

Everything else about her; her looks, her temper, the energy that never seemed to run out and her charm, came from him. It was truly like looking at a mini Spooky.

Nearly an entire hour had passed before you were turning back onto your street, Lucía’s hand clasped in yours and your other hand holding two plastic bags full of groceries.

Rather than her thumb being in her mouth, she was now happily sucking away on a blue lollipop, her mouth sticky with a mixture of the sugary goodness and ketchup from the hot dog you had bought her for a late breakfast on your way home.

You had tried to wipe it away but she had pretty much refused to let you touch her, too eager to chase after a squirrel, so you let it go, deciding you would just give her a shower when returning home instead.

It was an as good time as ever as she was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, having fallen asleep in them the night before and both you and Oscar having been too tired to even notice it.

While eating her lollipop, Lucía was looking around the street with a wide smile on her face, waving to every person she laid eyes on, while you were keeping your gaze forward.

You could see Oscar still working on the car in the driveway of your house in the distance, but now Ray was standing beside him, motioning to the car while Oscar kept his focus on the engine.

As you got closer, you could hear Ray laughing as he said something.

You could make out the exact words but whatever he said made Oscar snap because the next thing you knew, he slammed the hood shut and got up in Ray’s face, who was now looking down into the ground.

When seeing the all but peaceful behavior, you pulled at the back of Lucía´s shirt gently, urging her to stop.

“Hold on, baby. Let’s wait this out, yeah?” You smiled down at her, and although she hadn’t noticed her dad and Ray fighting yet and had no idea what you were talking about, she happily nodded and sat down on the sidewalk, patting the asphalt beside her in a way that made your heart melt in your chest.

She was so used to you having to take small breaks every so often by now that she never even questioned it anymore.

You couldn’t deny it felt nice for your feet to sit down for a moment, but your heart was still heavy in your chest as you listened to the conversation taking place in the distance while Lucía cluelessly played with your bracelets beside you, caught up in her own world.

“Let’s get something straight. You can come back here and pretend to be a father. But I know what’s up.” You listened intently as Oscar spoke to his dad, watching out of the corner of your eye as he raised a hand to motion to the house. “Cesar. He’s been through a lot of shit lately. So I’ll let him live under this delusion. For now. And let’s not even talk about my girls. If it were up to me you wouldn’t even be allowed to be in the same room as them, but (Y/N) wants to give you a chance because you’re their Abuelo, so you better not fuck this up.”

Oscar glared at Ray and took a step back, wiping his hands on the red rag as he walked around the car toward the fence.

“Does Cesar hate me?”

Oscar stopped at the sound of his dad’s question, looking back at him and scoffing. “He’s never even talked about you.” He answered with pure hatred, before turning back around and disappearing behind the red fence to the backyard.

Only then did you and Lucía stand up and keep walking, not wanting her to witness any conflict. Ray turned around at the sound of your footsteps, his eyes catching sight of you, and when his gaze flickered down to Lucía by your side, he hurried to drop the cigarette he was smoking and waved the smoke away with his hands.

No matter how bad he had treated Oscar and Cesar in the past, you could admit that it was decent of him to care for Oscar’s wishes about not smoking around her and actually seem to care about her wellbeing.

He started walking toward you to meet you halfway and wasted no time in reaching for the bags of groceries in your hand. ”Let me help you.”

“Thank you.” You thanked him, using your now free hand to support your belly as you walked up in front of the house.

Once entering, Lucía ran past the two of you toward the kitchen island where she climbed up on the barstool she had claimed as her own a long time ago, watching you as you followed.

Ray put the bag down on the island in front of her and her eyes were instantly on him.

“What’s your name?” Her small voice came before either of you could even think about saying anything else, followed by the sound of the hard lollipop hitting against her teeth.

A shocked expression took over Ray’s face for a moment, not having expected her to talk to him so soon. But you had warned him.

“Ray.” He answered after taking a moment to collect himself, watching the small girl with a fond expression.

Lucía stared right back at him with curious eyes, squinting them and tilting her head to the side slightly, just like Oscar would do.

You put a hand on top of her head as you passed her, smiling. “Él es tu Abuelo.” You told her and she instantly held her pinky out.

“Mucho gusto.”

Ray raised his eyebrows, glancing at you as if asking you what to do. You held up your own pinky behind her at that, silently showing him to hook his with hers, and he did just that, turning his attention back to her.

“Nice to meet you, too.” He said politely, watching as she then turned her attention to a magazine that was laying on the countertop. In turn, he moved his attention to you, pointing out. “You’re teaching her Spanish.”

You nodded, beginning to busy yourself with unpacking one of the bags. “Yeah. Or, well, Oscar is.” You chuckled. “Almost seven years together and I still don’t know much. I can understand it, though.”

“Better than nothing.” Ray praised you awkwardly and moved to unpack the second bag, to which you offered him a grateful smile.

“Do you like ice cream?” Lucía then spoke again, causing you both to turn back to her while continuing to unload the groceries onto the counter.

“I love ice cream.” Ray answered, causing her to smile.

“Me too.” She said happily, her body moving where she sat as she kicked her legs under the counter.

Ray nodded while you went around his back to start putting things into the fridge. “What’s your favourite flavor?” He asked, passing you objects over his shoulder in a fluid pace without breaking eye-contact with the smaller girl.

Her smile widened at the question and she took the lollipop out of her mouth in order to flash him a charming grin. “Chocolate chip cookie!” She exclaimed proudly and as you rounded Ray to keep taking things out of the bag, you noticed his eyebrows shooting up.

“Mine too.” He admitted and Lucía gasped.

“Twins!”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing out loud. Her bubbly personality in comparison to his pretty much opposite one was so comical to you for some reason. But Ray didn’t hold it in, chuckling at her as he continued to help you with the groceries.

Before any of you could spark up another conversation, the sound of the front door opening reached your ears. Expecting to see Oscar, you were surprised to instead see the younger Diaz brother walking inside, bag slung over his shoulder.

Your eyes instantly shot up, but he only greeted you with a smile, grinning even wider when his eyes caught sight of Ray standing beside you.

“What are you doing home already?” You wasted no time in asking, crunching the now empty bag together into a ball with your hands.

Cesar dropped his bag on the counter once he reached you and leaned in to kiss your cheek like he always did when greeting you.

“Our teacher got sick last minute and they couldn’t find a sub.” He informed you and you hummed, watching as he turned to Lucía.

“Hug, tío.” She held her arms out and he bent down to give her a hug without protest, attacking her cheek with kisses.

She giggled, holding on to him tighter, and you instantly moved in to pull them apart when seeing her lollipop dangerously close to his hair. “Watch your uncle’s hair, Lucía.” You told her as you carefully moved her hand away.

Cesar pulled a hand over the back of his head to check for any stickiness as he stood back up to his full height but didn’t seem very bothered as he locked his pinky with hers, grinning widely at her before turning to Ray.

He suddenly turned shy, shifting on his feet. “Are you free right now? I was thinking we could go over to Dwayne’s Joint and grab some lunch. My friend’s dad is the owner and I work there sometimes so I eat for free. The food there is amazing.”

Ray glanced at you, almost as if to ask permission, and when you gave him an encouraging nod and smile, he turned to his youngest and smiled awkwardly. “Sure, I could eat.” He agreed and Cesar instantly lit up.

“Great. Let’s go.”

“Have fun.” You told them as Ray began rounding you.

Cesar reached over and gave you a quick side-hug, followed by an even quicker kiss to the cheek, obviously excited beyond words to finally get to spend some time with his dad. “I’ll be home to help with dinner later.” He promised.

You only smiled, accepting the brief affection with a smile on your face. “Don’t worry about it, it’s still early. You’ve got time.”

The teenage boy flashed you a final grin, showing off his pearly whites, before the two of them bid you and Lucía goodbye and left, leaving you and your daughter alone.

Looking to her, you noticed she had now finished the lollipop, the stick laying on the magazine beside her, and that she was now looking up at you with big, questioning eyes.

“Can I go draw?” She asked, and you smiled, nodding.

“Of course.” You replied, picking the lollipop stick up from the magazine and heading over to the trash bin. You could hear her getting down from the chair behind you and you turned around, pointing a finger at her. “But go wash your mouth first.”

She only looked at you, giggling before running away. You stood still, listening intently until you heard the tap turn on in the bathroom, only then moving again.

“You best friends with my dad now?”

You jumped at the sound of the sudden voice speaking up from behind you, one hand going for your heart and the other going directly to your stomach. Turning around, you found Oscar now leaning against the edge of the kitchen island. You hadn’t even heard him come inside.

“Shit, Oscar.” You swore, leaning back against the sink as you attempted to calm your beating heart, glaring at him. “You know you can’t scare me like that.”

He nodded slowly, uncrossing his arms from over his chest and pushing himself off the island, approaching you. “Sorry.” He apologized lowly, placing a hand on your stomach. “¿Estás bien?”

You released a breath through your nose, looking up at him. “Yeah, but you near gave me a heart attack.” You told him, eyes pointed. “You know the doctor said scaring me isn’t good for the baby.”

Taking you into his arms, he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing his lips against the skin in the crook where your neck met your shoulders. “I didn’t mean to.” He mumbled, voice coming out muffled as he placed another kiss on the spot.

“I know you didn’t.” You hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging your fingers over the back of his head. “It’s fine.”

He pressed a third kiss to your skin before bringing his head back up, looking at you with absolutely no emotion on his face. “I don’t want you being around him. I don’t want Lucía around him.” He stated flatly, and you knew exactly who he was talking about.

“He’s her grandfather.” You defended, your voice becoming hushed so that she wouldn’t hear you talking and a glare settling over your face.

He met your glare with one of his own. “I don’t want her to get attached.” He did nothing to hide the loathing behind his words, but despite being angry he kept rubbing soothing circles on your waist and stomach.

“You’re not the only one who gets to make decisions regarding our daughter. I’m her parent, too.” You pointed out. “I’m not his biggest fan either and you know it, but I’m not going to alienate her from him like he’s got the plague. We’re all going to be living under the same room and for her sake we have to make the best of the situation.”

Oscar’s eyes closed with annoyance and he breathed out harshly through his nose, his hands stilling their previous movements at your sides. He leaned his forehead against yours and pressed a long, hard kiss to your lips, before turning around without another word and heading for the bathroom.

He clearly didn’t agree with anything you had just said but he still knew your relationship was more important than being petty and never left you on a bad note, which was one of the many, many reasons that you loved him as much as you did.

You were left alone in the kitchen when he disappeared, but not even a minute later you could hear his voice yell out through the entire house.

“SHIT!”

Your pregnancy hormones had completely control over your body and worry instantly filled your body, causing you to imagine the worst and forcing your feet to carry you across the room toward the bathroom as quickly as they could.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” You yelled out as you waddled through the hallway, appearing in the bathroom doorway only a few seconds later.

You instantly allowed yourself to let go of the breath you hadn’t known that you were holding when seeing that Oscar wasn’t hurt, laughter quickly bubbling up in your throat and escaping your lips in soft chuckles.

Oscar turned to look at you with a glare. “You think this shit is funny?” He asked, hurrying to turn off the tap that was running on full capacity.

Bringing a hand to your mouth in a failed attempt to hide your laughter, you shook your head, taking in the way his feet were now soaked in the water that had collected on the floor.

In the sink laid a white towel, having prevented the water from going down the drain and given the water no other choice but to spill over the edges.  

You struggled to hold back the snickers at the sight of him walking around in the water, his socks hanging off at his toes with the added weight.

With the laughter still caught in your throat, you turned your head out to the hallway, yelling out. “Lucía! What have we told you about leaving the towel in the sink?”

“And turning off the fucking tap!” Oscar joined in, his voice shaking the walls.

You stepped over the threshold and walked into the bathroom, happy you weren’t wearing socks and slapped his chest while giving him a pointed glare. “Don’t curse at her.” You scolded, and he simply met your glare with one of his own as Lucía’s voice came from down the hall.

“Sorry!”

The sound of her voice instantly made Oscar’s glare fall, but he still pulled an annoyed and tired hand over his face, reaching out to grab a dry towel from a shelf.

“I’ll help you.” You wasted no time in trying to round him to get to the shelf, but he caught you by your upper arms, stopping you and letting out a sigh.

“No, I got it.” He insisted. “It’s not even noon and you’ve already moved around more than you did all day yesterday. You shouldn’t put too much pressure on yourself, mami.”

He was in a bad mood and had every right to considering the circumstances. Not only had his dad just returned, pretending as if he hadn’t been gone for twelve entire years but now he had to clean up after his irresponsible daughter, too.

You raised your hand to his face, pressing it against the line of his jaw and turning his head toward yours. Without saying anything, you pressed your lips to his, feeling him let out another breath through his nose, his body slowly but surely relaxing under your touch.

Breaking apart, you kept your hand on his cheek, searching his eyes.  

“I love you.” You told him sincerely, watching as his eyes closed and feeling his hands come to rest on your waist, the situation at hand and the mess around you momentarily forgotten as you held each other.

“I love you too, mamas.” He replied, leaning down to steal another kiss before pulling apart with a sigh, looking around at the mess he would be left with.

You caressed the corner of his lip as he looked around, bringing your other hand up to touch the cross hanging around his neck. “Can you give Lucía a bath once you’re done?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah.” He turned to look at you again. “Did she eat?”

You hummed in response to his question, confirming it. “She ate a hot dog on the way home from the store, hence the need for a shower.” You chuckled, looking around. “I doubt she actually got any of the ketchup off her face. Mostly looks like she made a mess in here.”

“A mess?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow, letting go of your waist and taking a step back, the water splashing around his feet. “We have an indoor pool.”

“Yeaaah…” You drawled, laughter once again bubbling up in your throat. Your eyes flickered to the floor for a second before going back up to meet Oscar’s, your hand laying a light slap to his cheek. “Have fun cleaning this up, baby.”

You leaned in and placed a last kiss to his lips before turning around and heading back out toward the doorway, making sure to wipe your feet off on the threshold sill before stepping over it into the dry hallway.

“Puta…” You could hear Oscar muttering under his breath as you walked away and you grinned, yelling back over your shoulder.

“I heard that!”

“Good.” His voice came again, this time a lot closer to you, and before you had time to register what was happening, a sharp slap was delivered to your ass.

You squealed, almost jumping out of your own skin in surprise. “Oscar!” You scolded him, turning around to see him standing in the doorway with the towel twisted in his hand. How he had gotten there so fast without you hearing him stepping over the water you didn’t know, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

He leaned his head out into the hallway and stole another kiss, giving you a smug smirk. “Go lay down, mami. I’ll deal with this shit.” He told you before closing himself into the bathroom, and you didn’t have to be told twice.

You shook your head, chuckling to yourself and rubbing your stinging butt while waddling back into the living room and heading directly for the couch.

Laying down, you let out a breath of relief as your back was stretched out and the pain slowly but surely started disappearing.

You grabbed a pillow and placed it over your face to block out the sunlight for the sake of your growing headache and just laid there, listening to your surroundings.

Outside the window right above you, you could hear doors of houses and cars opening and slamming shut. You could hear voices of kids yelling somewhere down the street and the wind that had been blowing through the window earlier that morning was still going strong judging by the sound of ruffling leaves.

A few minutes later of just lying there in silence, you could hear Oscar walking out of the bathroom and into Lucía’s room, talking to her in Spanish.

Another minute or two later, the sound of the bath filling and the bathroom door closing cut through the otherwise silent house and with a sigh, you decided that you were done resting.

No matter how nice it felt in your back to lay down, you hated doing nothing and didn’t want to waste any more time just lying around when there were plenty of things to be done around the house that you knew no one else would deal with.

So you stood up and wordlessly started moving around again, going around the house on a hunt for dirty dishes and bringing them with you to the kitchen where you dumped them in the sink for later.

You then began picking clothes and garbage off the floor, throwing the clothes in a hamper and the trash in a bag.

Going through the hallway with the hamper in one hand and the trash bag in the other, you checked through every room and cleaned up where it was needed.

Cesar’s room was the one at the end of the hallway and you braced yourself, also knowing that it was always the messiest.

You weren’t one to complain about what state in which he left his room; he had his space and you had yours, and as long as the door remained closed to that you didn’t have to look at his mess, you didn’t care.

But on the rare occasion, like now, where you had nothing better to do, you would head in and clean it as well as you possibly could without violating his privacy and going through his private things.

You had learned the hard way that he got extremely defensive about his things and his privacy so after that first time, you hadn’t made the mistake of snooping again, even though it had been by accident that you had found an open condom wrapper on his desk.

That was the first and only time he had ever yelled at you, something Oscar had given him shit for later, but you didn’t really take offense to it; you were only glad that you hadn’t found the condom.

While picking up dirty clothes and candy wrappers from Cesar’s floor, putting them in their respective bags, you looked around, taking in your surroundings.

The walls that had been white up until a few months ago were now spray-painted in blue and pink graffiti and on the wall right next to the doorway, a pinboard hung, holding drawings and a few pictures of Cesar with you, Oscar, Lucía and his friends, the one of him with Lucía being one of your favourite pictures.

Cesar’s arms were wrapped around her from behind, both of them smiling so widely it almost made your cheeks hurt by looking at. Lucía was holding an ice cream cone, her entire face covered in the treat, and she was wearing a yellow hat that had slid down over her eyes, hiding them from the camera.

You had taken it on one of the many days you had spent with them on the beach. It would have been perfect if Oscar had been there, but he had still been locked up at the time.

You smiled as you thought back to that day, remembering their laughter and how they had chased each other at the seashore, Lucía having been absolutely ecstatic when feeling the water at her feet.

With one last look at the photograph, you evened it out so that it wasn’t crooked before continuing to clean up on the floor.

Once all of the trash was in the bag and all of the dirty clothes were in the hamper, you folded the clothes you knew were clean and put them into his drawer, then moving on to make his bed and tidy his desk up a bit.

The carpet needed to be vacuumed and the surfaces in his room were in a pretty desperate need of a dusting and scrub, but you decided to put a pin in it, knowing it wouldn’t be very long until he got back home and probably wouldn’t want you in his room when he did.

Closing the door behind you when you left, you headed for the closed bathroom door and put the  trash bag on the floor to be able to open the door, still holding on to the now full hamper at your side.

As the door slid open, you were immediately graced by the sight of Oscar’s naked back where he was crouched down by the side of the bathtub, his arms holding his body upright on the edge.

The tiles on the floor were now dry and the washing machine was spinning like crazy, Oscar appearing to have started a load with the towels he had used to clean up Lucía’s mess, which instantly made a smile rise to your lips.

You approached him from the back, Lucía becoming visible over his shoulder as you got closer. She was playing with a blue rubber duck, making quacking noises and repeatedly moving the duck toward Oscar in an attempt to make him join in on the quacking.

He obviously didn’t and it was appearing to make her grow agitated, her quacking becoming more aggressive by every second passing.

You chuckled to yourself and decided to have some fun as Oscar had yet to notice your presence, the sound of your entrance being swallowed by the loud noise coming from the shaking washing machine.

You closed in on him sneakily, putting the hamper down to the side before slowly leaning down to his head.

You stayed there for a moment, just looking from over his shoulder as he rippled his hand through the water to create waves for Lucía’s duck, before blowing on his ear and whispering a quiet; “Quack.”

“Mierda!” He jumped to his feet instantly and you had to hurry to back away in order to not be smacked right across the face, laughter instantly spilling out from your lips.

Lucía, now having spotted you, wasted no time in joining in on the laughter even though she most likely didn’t even know what was so funny, while Oscar glared at you.

“¿Qué te pasa?” He asked, furious. “I could have hit you.” He motioned for your stomach, but you only laughed, not being able to take the situation seriously.

“For someone who’s been on the run from the law for most of his life, you’re not very attentive.” You pointed out and he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before taking one step forward and tugging you by your arm into his chest.

You rested your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso. Above you, his eyes spotted the hamper filled to the top with dirty laundry.

At the sight of it, he moved his head away from on top of yours and raised an eyebrow at you. “I thought I told you to rest.” He said and you sheepishly smiled. “You never listen, do you?”

“Mommy never listens.” Lucía joined in from the bathtub, causing the two of you to turn around and look at her.

Oscar threw his head back as he laughed while you only narrowed your eyes at your daughter. “Are you ganging up on me now?” You questioned, and in response, she narrowed her eyes to imitate you, only causing Oscar to grow even smugger.

He reached his hand out toward her, pinky out, and Lucía moved to the edge of the tub, hooking her pinky with his.

You tutted at the sight playfully. “Like father, like daughter.” You teased, and walked back out of the bathroom, leaving them alone to their quality bath time again.

You grabbed the bag with trash from the floor outside and closed the door to the bathroom, heading over to the kitchen where you dumped the bag of trash in the bin before moving on to clean off the coffee table and make up the sofa with pillows and blankets for Ray to sleep with.

Just as you got done, Lucía and Oscar emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of steam flowing out behind them after the shower Oscar appeared to have taken by the look of his fresh clothes.

He was now wearing a black and grey checkered plaid and a pair of grey sweats that weren’t soaked in water at the ends and Lucía was dressed in her Winnie The Pooh bathrobe, the hood with ears on top pulled over her wet curls.

She wasted no time in getting up on a chair at the kitchen table, short legs starting to kick as soon as she had sat down.

While she got situated over there, Oscar walked over to the fridge by the couch where he kept the alcohol, bending down and opening the door. Before he got the chance to grab what he came for, however, Lucía called out from her spot.

“Bring me my crayons.”

It wasn’t particularly directed at him, but Oscar still closed the fridge again and stood back up to his full height, not saying a word as he left to her room to bid to her command.

While he did so, you grabbed the bottle-opener from the kitchen island and waddled over to the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of Corona just as Oscar returned with Lucía’s crayons and coloring books.

When hearing him return, she stood up on her chair and Oscar put the things down in front of her before taking her in his arms and sitting down on the chair with her in his lap.

She wasted no time in digging into her crayons and you walked over to them, opening the bottle of beer on the way there.

At the sound of the cap releasing from the throat of the bottle, Oscar looked up, and reached out and grabbed it from your hands the second you got close enough, raising it to his lips and taking a sip immediately.

Once he brought it back down from his lips, you bent down and wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing your lips to the tattoo on his neck.

“Gracias.” He thanked you for the beer, turning his head to the side to capture your lips with his in a kiss.

You weren’t sure when the time went from noon to afternoon, but soon enough, the sun was setting outside and Ray and Cesar were walking through the front door, talking loudly and laughing between themselves.

Oscar was still sitting with Lucía at the table, sipping on his beer slowly and watching over her as she colored in her books.

You had started on the cooking only a few minutes ago, standing over by the kitchen island chopping onions for the guacamole you were making, and you could almost feel the entire atmosphere turning hostile when ray stepped in through the door, Oscar’s anger radiating off of him and reaching you all the way where you stood in the kitchen.

But he ignored him, keeping his eyes on Lucía’s drawing and taking a large gulp of his beer while Cesar walked over to them and pinched Lucía’s cheek, causing her to let out a gleeful laugh.

The sound brought a smile to everyone’s lips, even Oscar’s, who raised his head to greet his brother with a fist-bump.

Cesar then walked right past you where you stood and headed for his room, while Ray cautiously sat down across from Oscar and Lucía at the table.  

“Pink, please.” Lucía spoke without looking up from her drawing, and Oscar did what he had been doing for the past hour and a half and handed her the crayon of her wishes, taking another gulp of his beer and completely ignoring Ray’s gaze.

She dragged the pink crayon over her drawing a few times before holding it up. “Blue, please.” She repeated herself, this time asking for another color, and Oscar wordlessly took the pink crayon and exchanged it for a blue, watching as she colored away in her book.  

You tried to give father and son some privacy by busying yourself with chopping the onions, but since you were so close to them, you couldn’t miss the way Ray was desperately trying to search out his oldest son’s eye, and failing miserably.

“You’re good with her.” He finally spoke up, nodding his head and motioning with his hand carefully.

“Mm.” Oscar’s eyes didn’t leave the drawing, his lips pulled into a tight line as he simply hummed in response.

“Are you hoping for the baby to be a boy or a girl?” Ray tried again, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as Oscar brought the bottle of beer to his lips and down the rest of its content before slamming it down on the table, raising his hand at you over his shoulder, almost as if he knew that you were watching them.

“Girl.” He answered while you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel and rounded the kitchen island, heading for the fridge where you grabbed two beers this time.

You brought them over to the table they were sitting at and grabbed the opener where you had left it when bringing Oscar his first bottle, opening the two bottles and taking the sharp caps into your hand so that Lucía wouldn’t get to them.

“Why not a boy?” Ray questioned, glancing up at you briefly as you handed him one of the beers, nodding his head. “Thank you.”

You offered him a gentle smile before turning to Oscar, taking the empty bottle from beside him and handing him the new one.

He didn’t look up at you, but when you put a hand on his shoulder in passing, he put his hand on top of yours, squeezing it in thanks before you walked back to the kitchen.

Ray knew the answer to his question, of course, already having gotten it from you earlier that day. He just wanted to hear what he would answer himself, but he should have expected Oscar not to be willing to give much away.

“Less problems.” He answered flatly and this time, Ray didn’t question him any further, only nodding and leaning back in his seat, joining him in drinking while watching Lucía draw.

The house turned silent again, but Cesar chose the right time to come back right then, returning with a plastic bag in his hand.

You hadn’t seen it when he had first arrived, so you guessed he had carried it in his bag that he had now left in his room.

He held the bag up with a smile on his face, looking around at all of you. “We went by the store and got some ice cream on the way home.” He told you, and Lucía instantly perked up, turning in Oscar’s lap to look at Cesar.

Oscar turned too, narrowing his eyes. “Where’d you get money from?” He asked, and Cesar only shrugged.

“Dad paid.” He replied simply, walking over to the freezer where he brought the tub of ice cream out of the bag and put it inside.

You watched from your spot as Ray smiled at Lucía. “Chocolate chip cookie.” He told her, and she instantly squealed in excitement, turning to Oscar.

‘’Chocolate chip cookie!” She repeated happily, and he hummed.

“I heard.”

You glared at him from where you stood on the other side of the room and almost as if feeling your glare burning into the side of his head, he turned to glare right back at you.

You gave him a pointed look, silently scolding him for not being excited for your daughter’s sake, and when he turned his head back around, bringing his beer up to his lips again, you looked at Lucía who had now gone back to drawing.

“What do we say, Lucí?” You asked, and she looked up from her drawing to beam at Ray.

“Gracias!” She exclaimed, and Ray smiled, although it didn’t go unnoticed by you the way his eyes kept flickering to Oscar’s, his smile faltering ever so lightly when they did.

The subject was dropped after that. Oscar didn’t say another word but Lucía was as happy as ever that her Abuelo brought ice cream home for her.

While the two oldest Diaz men watched her draw, Cesar joined you in the kitchen, finally greeting you after having passed by you earlier.

He murmured a quick ‘hey’, leaning down to kiss your cheek in greeting before standing beside you, watching you chop the last of the onion.

“Did you clean my room?” He asked and you glanced at him with a soft smile, nodding your head.

“Yeah.” You answered, turning your attention back to the sharp knife in your hand. “But I didn’t snoop, I promise.”

He chuckled beside you. “It’s alright. Thank you.” He let out a breath and you glanced at him again to see his smile widening, his hands now moving to roll up his sleeves. “Can I help?”

You smiled, nodding your head. “Sure. You can start dicing the tomatoes. I’m just finishing up with the onions so I’m going to start on the avocados.”

He nodded his head and wasted no time in reaching for another knife, starting on the tomatoes beside you while you, as you had told him you would, put the onions in a bowl and started on the avocados.

You chatted between yourselves and after a few minutes, Ray joined you in the kitchen with a sullen look on his face, probably having come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t welcome where he had just come from.

An hour later, you were all sitting around the table, the coloring books and crayons now put aside and the table full of food.

The only sound that could be heard was silverware scraping over the plates and the occasional silly remark from Lucía about the food. The tension hanging in the air was so thick it could have been cut with a butter knife and made it near impossible for you to enjoy your dinner no matter how good the food was.

Oscar was the tensest out of all of you, not having looked up from his plate since you served it to him.

You were holding his hand under the table, rubbing your thumb soothingly over his knuckles that seemed to be constantly bruised, doing your best to at least take some of his anger away.

But it wasn’t doing much and Cesar seemed to have noticed as well, the two of you exchanging an uncomfortable glance before he plastered on a smile and finally broke the awkward silence.

“So… dad got a job at Dwayne’s Joint today.”

“Really? That’s great news!” You hurried to join in on Cesar’s brave attempt, maybe being a little too quick judging by the way Oscar’s head whipped up to glare at you.

He slammed his fist into the table angrily, turning to glare at his younger brother. “You got him a job?” He spat, the hurt and betrayal evident in his voice as he shook his head. “Big mistake.”

Ray cleared his throat from where he sat, putting his fork down and resting his clutched hands on the table.

“You’ve got a good thing going here, Oscar. You’ve got a kind mujer and a good kid, and another on the way.” He spoke, and you smiled. “I’m not here to mess that up for you. I’m done stirring shit up in your life. I’ll move out as soon as I have enough money, I just need some more time.”

“Pendejada.” Oscar quickly swore, turning his glare to his dad. “Do you really think you’re fooling me? You’re not planning to stay. You never do. You’re gonna leave and you’re gonna crush Cesar and Lucía just like you crushed me.”

Your heart broke at his words and the feeling of his hand getting clammy in yours, and you hurt even more when seeing the tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

He stood up from his chair, pulling his hand out of yours in the process and you attempted to reach for it again. “Oscar-“

“Cállate!” He yelled, whipping around to glare at you. The unexpected volume of his voice caused you all to jump and Lucía instantly started crying out of the scare.

Oscar’s face fell the second her cries reached his ears, guilt visibly filling his body. But you just glared, stood up from your seat and picked her up, holding the back of her head as she buried her face into your neck, carrying her out of the kitchen without another word.

You could feel Oscar’s presence not far behind you and you knew he was following you. Once you reached your bedroom door, you opened it up and put Lucía down on her feet, giving her a light push toward the bed.

“Go lay down, baby.” You told her. “Mommy will be right back.” She did as told, climbing up on the mattress, and you backed back out, closing the door and turning around only to become face to face with Oscar.  

His face was regretful to a start, but it turned hard when he saw your glare.

“What the hell is your problem?” You whisper-yelled, not wanting Lucía nor Cesar to hear you fight. “You never raise your voice around her!”

“You don’t get it.” He tried, speaking through gritted teeth and pulling a frustrated hand over his face in an attempt to not lose his cool again.

You only glared back, crossing your arms over your chest. “It doesn’t matter whether or not I get it.” You spat back, shaking your head.

“If you want to be angry when you’re by yourself, that’s fine, but we made an agreement when you came home that the anger stays outside the house. Your pent up anger isn’t just affecting you right now. It's affecting us. Me. Our children." You put a hand on your belly, giving him a pointed glare. “It needs to go. The anger needs to go.”

“Do you think it’s that easy?” He fired back, glowering down at you. “You think I should forgive him, is that it? You stand here defending him but you don’t know him. Not like I do. Not even close.”

“I’m saying you deserve it.” You whisper-yelled, uncrossing your arms and prodding a finger into his chest harshly.

You glared at him, letting your and drop back to your side and took a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing.

“You’re right.” You agreed, voice now quieter and your head shaking. “I don’t know him. I don’t even know whether or not he’s sorry for his actions, for leaving you behind like you were nothing to him. But either way you need to let that shit go. Not for him, not because he might apologize or acknowledge the pain he’s caused you but for you. Holding onto anger will only hurt you, make you do things you regret. Don’t make the same mistake he did, don’t hold on to the hurt, don’t go down that same road. You’ll end up right in his shoes in a few years if you do.”

A dark look crossed over his face, unlike anything you had ever seen before. Suddenly, you were backed into the wall behind you, his chest pressing against yours and his hand coming up to press against the wall beside your head as he glared, only millimeters away from your face. “Are you saying that I would leave my kids?”

You swallowed, your heart beating violently behind your chest at the new kind of proximity. Had you been in any other situation, you would have without a doubt gotten aroused by this side of him, but sadly, that was not the case.

“Of course I’m not.” You whispered, pressing the back of your head against the wall behind you, carefully reaching out and taking ahold of his other hand as a frown spread across your face. “I’m saying that if you don’t let that shit go, you’ll continue to be driven by hatred and anger and even if that won’t actively make you a bad father, it will come in the way of you being the best version of yourself, the version I know that you can be if only you let yourself.”

He listened to you intently, his eyes shutting tightly with anger and his nostrils flaring with anger.

But you continued, bringing his hand and placing it atop your belly, pressing your forehead against his. "I know you don’t want him around but if he wants to be there for them, I’m not going to rob them of that."

His head shook against yours and his hand balled into a fist at the side of your head. "He’s just gonna leave them like he left us. Like he left me."

"If so, we’ll take that if the time comes.” You continued trying to reason with him softly, but that had not been the right thing to say.

His eyes opened and in one hasty movement, he had removed his hand from your stomach and pushed himself away from you. "When that time comes, I’m not having that conversation with them. You are." He spat and you followed his example and pushed yourself away from the wall.

“Yeah. I’ll accept that.” You glared, swallowing. “But right now he’s making Lucía and Cesar happy and that’s all I care about.”

“What about my happiness, huh?” He questioned. “Doesn’t that mean shit to you anymore?”

“You’re not unhappy because he’s here.” You stated. “You’re unhappy because you’re holding on to the anger. You owe it to yourself and your family to let it go and move on. Not to him. You and us.”

“It’s not that simple.” He shook his head and you frowned.

“I know it’s not but it all begins and ends in your mind. What you give power to, has power over you. If you allow it.” You paused, looking around the hallway and letting out a deep breath. “I know you’re hurt but-“

“You don’t know anything about hurt!” He whisper-yelled at you, whipping around to face you again after having turned around.

Your heart fell in your chest and your jaw tensed as you met his eyes through the darkness. “Are you forgetting that I was left behind, too?” You whispered and only watched as he shook his head and turned away from you again.

“It’s not the same thing.”

This brought a surge of anger through your body, an anger you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“No.” You scoffed. “Living your entire life in the middle of the system, being thrown between foster-people, all of whom were either toxic or abusive except one who died, like a fucking ragdoll with no human rights, is so much better.”

Your mind wandered back to Stanley who had taken you in when you were fifteen.

His wife had just passed away and as they had been living with infertility their entire lives, he didn’t have anyone left to keep him company. So in honor of his late wife’s memory, he decided to make one final difference in life and help a child in need.

Just like the system was portrayed in the movie ‘Instant Family’, no one ever wanted to adopt a teenager if it weren’t for the checks they got in the process, so you weren’t expecting anything. But much to yours and the social workers’ surprise, he took a liking to you.

Unfortunately, he passed on only six months later and as you were still a minor, you went right back into the system.

When you were seventeen you finally had enough of being mentally and physically abused by your foster parents all so that they would be able to get money from the state and left the center you were placed at.

You kept moving between your friends, living in their basements and attics one week at a time for almost six months until you met Oscar and slowly but surely started staying with him and Cesar.

You shook yourself free from the painful memories, forcing yourself to return to reality and noticing your eyes were now stinging with tears. But you weren’t discouraged, determined to let him hear what you had to say.

“I’ve been alone all my life. No family. Ever.” You sniffled, still glaring at him through your progressively blurring vision. “You’ve at least had Cesar and the Santos, somewhere to belong, which is more than I can say about myself. I’ve had no one but myself to count on and I finally have a family that loves me. I’m not going to lose that all because you can’t let go of the past. I hate him for leaving you, for hurting you, but he’s here now and there’s nothing neither of us can do about it but make the best of the situation for Cesar and Lucía’s sake.”

Hie eyes were burning holes into the floor and his body was tense and halfway twisted away from you, but you could still see from the side of his face that his gaze was concentrated.

No words left his mouth once you finished your little rant and for a moment, you thought that maybe you had managed to get your point across and gotten through to him, but then he wordlessly turned his back to you and began walking in the other direction.

Your heart instantly dropped in your chest and you called out for him. “Where are you going?”

“Out.” He answered coldly, not turning around and not stopping.

You rushed after him as fast as your feet could carry you and grabbed the back of his shirt, tugging him to a stop. “No, not like this, you’re not.” You protested. “We don’t leave each other upset. You know that.”

He reached around to his back and grabbed your hand, softly but firmly pulling it away from his shirt and turning around to look down at you. The glare that had previously been etched onto his face was gone now, but for some reason you found this new, emotionless expression worse.

“You’re standing here, defending him and taking his side over mine.” He spoke calmly, shaking his head. “I don’t have to stand here and listen to this shit. I’m not going to.”

“It’s not like that and you know it.” You tried sadly, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his with the hand that was still holding on to your wrist.

But he twisted his hand out of the way. “Lo que. I’m out.” He told you, dropping your wrist and turning back around. “Don’t wait up.”

He began walking away again and this time, you didn’t follow. “If you leave, you’re not sleeping here tonight.” You spoke after him, raising your voice slightly.

But he didn’t react, or at least he didn’t show it if he did. He just kept walking away from you, heading past the kitchen and straight for the front door, disappearing from your line of sight when he stepped outside.

The sound of the front door slamming shut behind him reached your ears a second later and caused you to flinch where you stood. The house was suddenly eerily quiet, the only sound being heard being the soft sobs coming from your bedroom.

Ray and Cesar were still sitting at the kitchen table and now that you had stepped out of the hallway to your room, you were on full display for them. But you didn’t say anything to them despite feeling their awkward but worried gazes at you.

Instead, you wordlessly turned around and headed back to your bedroom while sniffling against the back of your hand.

The second you were locked inside your bedroom, the tears started falling, and when seeing you cry, Lucía only cried harder.

You didn’t waste another second before heading over to the bed and getting in next to her, taking her in your lap as much as you could with your belly coming in the way. You stroked her hair, getting lost in thought.

You hated being as empathic as you were. In any other situation, you saw the personality trait as a blessing, but now… now it felt more like a curse.

Your heart bled for Oscar. You had experienced his hurt first-hand when your parents left you when you were little, along with every time the relatively nice foster parents had decided you weren’t the child they wanted and returned you to the foster care center.

You wanted to hate Ray for what he had done, for the hurt he had caused the man you loved, but no matter how much you tried, you just couldn’t, because you could see it so clearly in his face that he was trying to be better.

You sympathized with him, despite the fact that he was supposed to be- no, despite the fact that he was the bad guy in this scenario, and you hated it.

You hated that you couldn’t just snap your fingers and make it all alright, make everyone happy. Ray had only been back for a day and the hopelessness was already so overwhelming you could barely bear it.

Oscar drove to the beach that night. He sat there thinking about everything for hours, even when the final warmth had left the air and the harsh evening air started pulling at his clothes.

He had started off by thinking about his dad, about everything that had happened when he was young, but as soon as his anger melted off, Ray’s face was replaced by yours, and suddenly you were the only thing he could think about.

Not that it was a rare occurrence. Even though you had been together for so long, it happened far more often than he would like to admit.

You had always been there taking care of him and his mano in the midst of the gang wars, never losing your positivity despite the hardships you had endured throughout your life, and that’s what made him fall for you.

You were always smiling, always telling and showing people you believed in them, that their hopes and dreams were valid and reachable.

And there was your unwavering loyalty. He thought back to when you had only known each other for a year, how he had expected you to run the other way with your unborn baby when he got locked up. But you stayed, no matter how hard shit got for you on the outside.

You were twenty-three now and no matter how hard things got, you still stuck to his side through thick and thin, through things that would have had any other person fleeing for their lives a long time ago.

You had done nothing but stay positive about the little that you had through the sorrow of what could have been, and he knew he owed it to you now to do the same. Only, of course, he realized this far too late, like he always did.

By the time you heard the front door open and slam shut again, the clock on your bedside table were showing 2:42am and Lucía was sound asleep with her head in your lap.

You were stroking her long, black locks as you had for the past five hours; a trait she inherited from Oscar along with pretty much everything else.

She hadn’t gotten much from you, in truth, but you didn’t mind it. After all, Oscar was the love of your life, despite all the shit you had been through together.

Your cheeks were stiff and itchy with dried tears and you watched the clock turn from 2:42 to 2:43 just as the first knock was delivered to your bedroom door, followed by three more.

You heard a thud, most likely from his forehead hitting the door, and then came his voice, muffled through the thick piece of wood.

“Mi amor. Lo siento. Open the door, por favor.”

You carefully put Lucía’s head down on the pillow, grabbing more pillows and stuffing them under the mattress to stop her from falling down and tucked her in with a blanket before shuffling over to the door.

You twisted the lock and opened it, instantly coming face to face with a regretful Oscar. He tried to look inside and move past you, but you shoved him back, quietly closing the door behind you.

“She’s sleeping.” You whispered tiredly, your voice groggy.

“Tengo que verla.” He pleaded, but you shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to bring some warmth to your body to make up for the lack of body heat you had previously been receiving from your daughter.

“No, it took a long time to get her to fall asleep.” You protested again. “You’re not waking her up.”

You turned your gaze to the ground, leaning your back against the door and shivering slightly. You were tired, still shaken up and not really sure how to handle the situation seeing as you had never fought like this before.

Oscar, being able to read you like an open book, sensed your unsureness immediately and also took note of the fact that you were cold, carefully reaching his hands out to your upper arms.

Slowly, he pulled you toward him, testing the waters, and when he knew you wouldn’t blow up on him, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you

Your eyes instantly fell shut at the feeling, a shock of warmth going through your body and your senses being invaded with his perfume and the smell of fresh air still lingering on his clothes.

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper around her.” He mumbled, leaning his chin on the top of your head.

You hummed tiredly, wrapping your arms around his torso and taking a step closer to him. “That’s right, you shouldn’t. But you can apologize to her in the morning. Not to me.” You replied, pressing your cheek into his chest. “I’m sorry if I made it seem like I was picking his side over yours. That’s not what I was trying to do at all, I just-“

“I know, mami. You were right.” He interrupted, moving his arms from around you to take your face in his hand, bringing his face down to yours. “I’m gonna try better. I want you, Lucía and Cesar to be able to live good, without all this negative energy and shit.”

You could sense that he still didn’t fully agree with you despite claiming that you had been right, but he said nothing more about it, changing the subject and asking; “Can I sleep with you? He’s got the couch, which you already know since you made it up for him.”

A sigh of annoyance left your nose at his moody remark, but you nodded, grabbing his hands. “Come on.”

You opened the door to your bedroom again and led him inside. His eyes instantly found Lucía’s form where she was snoring lightly in the bed, her face illuminated by the bright red light cast from the alarm clock beside the bed.

His eyes didn’t leave her once while he got out of his clothes and into bed and you followed his lead, getting in on the other side of your daughter. No more words were shared between you as you got comfortable, your hands just reaching over Lucía to intertwine, sleep coming quickly for both of you.

The next morning, you were all gathered in the kitchen slash living room, all of you getting ready for your respective days.

The atmosphere was still very much tense but after Oscar’s promise to you the night before, it was a lot less hostile.

After making sure Lucía had breakfast, you had left her with Oscar and Ray to go wake up Cesar and then you had left to go get dressed in proper clothing, not wanting to waltz around in Oscar’s oversized shirt all day.

You were just now returning to the kitchen, finding a very tired Cesar sitting beside Lucía with a sandwich and a glass of orange juice on the table in front of him, slowly eating his breakfast while looking through an old Garfield comic with his niece.

On the other side of the table, Oscar was watching them silently while drinking coffee from his usual black coffee mug and Ray was minding his own business over by the couch, getting ready for his first day at work.

As you rounded the corner and entered their field of view, Oscar’s face instantly pulled into a smirk. You stopped beside him and his hand found its way to your ass in no time, pinching it cheekily.

“You’re looking fine today, mami.” He said, smirking.

You raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “Really? Because I feel like a whale on the verge of bursting.” You replied crankily, only causing him to laugh and pull you down onto his lap.

“No, stop, Oscar. I’m heavy.” You protested, immediately trying to stand up again and free him from your weight.

But his arms were wrapped securely around you, his hands already having found their way to your stomach where they were now rubbing soft circles over your shirt, his lips making contact with your arm from behind you. “No estás pesada para mi.”

“You look beautiful, (Y/N).” Cesar joined in, agreeing with his brother, and Lucía wasn’t far behind, speaking out through a mouthful of cereal.

“Yeah, mamá.”

You chuckled lightly, your face pulling into a wide smile at their words in combination with the feeling of Oscar continuously pressing kisses against your arm while rubbing your stomach.

“Thank you, my babies.” You replied, leaning out of Oscar’s grasp for the briefest of second to press a kiss each to their cheeks.

In response, their grins only widened, both of their mouths full of food and looking nearly identical with the way their eyes squinted when they smiled.

But Oscar wasn’t as impressed as you returned to his arms. “You giving out kisses to my mano but none for me? You’re gonna make me jealous.” He tutted behind you and you rolled your eyes.

Turning around, you were met with his smirk, the smug bastard you oh so loved already having been expecting you to turn around. Without saying another word, you brought your hands up to cradle his face and brought your lips down to his, his hands still rubbing your stomach affectionately.

Cesar and Lucía made mocking sounds of disgust from their spots, fooling around with each other and causing you both to chuckle against each other’s lips, but you kept kissing, only breaking apart when Ray cleared his throat from the sofa.

Your faces came apart and you turned to look at him, finding him now standing awkwardly by the front door dressed in a black t-shirt with ‘Dwayne’s Joint BBQ’ printed across the chest.

“I’m off to Dwayne’s. I’ll see you all later.” He spoke lowly and your eyes furrowed together.

“No breakfast?” You asked, and he looked at you, but before he could answer for himself, Oscar’s voice spoke up from behind you.

“He doesn’t like eating in the morning.”

Both you and Ray turned to look at him, but he avoided your eyes, his face now free of emotion again as he picked his coffee cup back up and wordlessly took a sip.

You smiled fondly at him, placing your hand on top of the one that was still resting on your stomach, before turning back forward to see Cesar standing up.

“I’ll walk with you!” He exclaimed excitedly while shoving the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, reaching out for his school bag on the chair next to his and without as much as a goodbye, he had walked out the door behind Ray, leaving the three of you alone.

“Alrighty, then.” You drawled, the last minute having gone by so quickly, and turned back to Oscar. “Any plans for today, baby?”

With Ray gone, the tension from his body melted right off.

He put the coffee mug back down on the table and wrapped his arms around you again. “Nah. Thought I’d just spend the day with my two favourite girls. Go for a drive, maybe take a walk on the beach.”

You hummed, leaning back into his chest while holding on to his hand on your belly. “That sounds nice.” You smiled, turning your attention to your daughter and stretching your foot out under the table, nudging one of her legs. “Do you want to go to the beach?”

Lucía nodded, but made no move to look up from her comic, simply shoving more cereal into her mouth and starting to kick her legs more violently underneath the table judging by the way said table was shaking.

You raised your eyebrows at her, turning back to Oscar to see him watching her with an identical expression before turning to meet your eyes.

“She gets that from you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, a small smile playing at your lips. “Well, if we’re going outside you’re going to have to help me get my shoes on because I’m too fat to reach my feet.”

He chuckled but didn’t protest, urging you to stand up. You did as told and took his seat when he left to retrieve your shoes from over by the front door. Wordlessly, he helped you get them onto your feet and tied the laces into flawless knots before taking your hands in his.

“Come on, fatass.” He teased.

You raised an eyebrow, allowing him to pull you up. “Who you calling a fatass, fatass?”

“You called yourself a fatass a second ago, dumbass.” He fired back and to this, you raised your other eyebrow, as well.

“Oh, I’m a dumbass, too, now?”

He just smirked at you, pulling you into his chest in an embrace and bending down to kiss you as his hand pinched your butt.

“Dumbass is a bad word.” Lucía spoke up from the table and you laughed, cutting the kiss short, turning to look at her while nodding your head.

“You’re right, it is. Bad daddy.”

“Bad daddy.” She agreed, glaring at Oscar who playfully raised his eyebrows in return.

Lucía, now having finished her breakfast and apparently having had enough of Garfield for this morning, went and changed out of her pajamas into some regular clothes, and then the three of you locked up the house and headed out in the Impala.

You left the streets of Freeridge and drove around Los Angeles for a good hour before you headed back and found yourselves at the beach, and once there, you spent a good two hours thanks to Lucía refusing to leave.

You bought a bag of bread at the store before going there so that she could throw it to the seagulls, and once the annoying, screeching birds made an appearance, it was near impossible to get her back into the car.

But you managed in the end, even though she cried pretty much the entire ride home.

Once you were back home, you took her to bed for a much-needed nap while Oscar went out again to deal with some business, Sad Eyes having been waiting in front of the house when you got back.

When you had finally managed to get her to sleep, you had moved to get out of the bed and go tend to the chores that needed doing, but just as you were about to stand up, Oscar had come back in and laid down with you.

You lost track of how long you just laid there. You didn’t speak a word to each other, just drifting in and out of sleep while waiting for Lucía to wake up again.

His arms were wrapped around you from behind, instinctively moving around on your stomach and squeezing gently in hope to feel a kick.

When the times came where there actually was a kick, he always had his hands in the wrong place, which in turn forced you to constantly move them around with your own.

Lucía woke up some time later, but by then, you had both managed to fall asleep, and she had not-so-graciously woken you up by hitting you both in the head with a book that she wanted you to read for her.

Oscar had accepted the task. He wasn’t doing much reading, just flipping through the book and looking at the pictures, but she wasn’t complaining.

“Can we eat the ice cream Abuelo bought for me yesterday?” She spoke up then after a long while of silence and your eyes instantly switched to Oscar, awaiting his reaction, but he barely even reacted at all.

“Yeah.” He only replied calmly without looking away from the book, flipping the page.

While she reached out and touched the butterfly now presented before her, touching the purple glitter, he looked at her from the side. “I’m sorry I got angry and yelled last night, princesita. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She didn’t answer, just keeping her eyes on the butterfly and wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek to his in a way that made her entire face scrunch up at the force.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, flipping the page again.

A few minutes later, you found yourself sitting around the table in the kitchen, each with a bowl of ice cream in front of you and conversing easily while you ate.

The front door opened then and all of your heads turned to see Cesar jogging inside with his school bag slung over his shoulder.

“Have a good day at school?” You asked with a smile, and he smiled back, nodding.

“Yeah, thanks.” He hurried out, rushing over to you and hastily kissing yours and Lucía’s cheeks, bumping his fist against Oscar’s in a quick greeting.

“You want some ice cream, mano?” Oscar asked before putting another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, giving his brother an amused smirk.

Cesar only shook his head, going over to the kitchen island where he dropped his bag at Lucía’s barstool. “No, I’m meeting up with dad at Dwayne’s. He gets off work in five minutes.” He answered quickly and barely even spared you another glance as he headed for the front door.

But he stopped himself suddenly and turned back around, and you raised an eyebrow at him as he jogged over to where you sat and took your spoon from your hand, scooping some of your ice cream into his mouth and giving you a goofy grin.

“Thanks, bye.” He gave your spoon back to you and rushed back for the door, this time not turning around.

You chuckled at his antics, going back to your ice cream, but beside you, Oscar had now put his spoon down and pushed his bowl away from him on the table.

Lucía noticed this in an instant and immediately claimed his bowl, pulling it over to her. You watched as she began eating from both of the bowl, all while Oscar stared into the table, obviously disappointed that Cesar hadn’t joined you.

You slowly reached your hand out over the table to take his in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. He squeezed it back, pulling a hand over his face, before standing up and leaving the table to go outside for a smoke.

The fact that Cesar was suddenly looking up to his dad more than he hurt him, that much was clear in your eyes no matter how much he would try to hide it.

But he still didn’t want to hover and be an ass by forcing him to spend time with him, which was why come Saturday morning, you saw the perfect opportunity for them to spend some good old brotherly time together and pushed them to take it.

Oscar was, like every other morning, sitting at table in the kitchen slash living room. Seeing as it was Saturday, you had slept in today, the clock showing eleven by the time you had finished eating breakfast.

Ray had left for work when you had still been asleep and Cesar and Lucía were still sleeping, for the time being giving you the rest of the house to yourselves for the first time since he had returned.

You were on day six of him staying with you now and during that time, you had learned the hard way that he wasn’t the most organized or clean person, leaving clothes and food out all over the house.

The living room was smelling like a literal garbage dump, a mess of suspicious food occupying the coffee table over by the sofa.

You had attempted to clean said mess the second you had woken up, but Oscar hadn’t let you, saying that you weren’t his maid and that he could clean his mess up himself, so you tried your very best to ignore the awful smell while you had your breakfast.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a very big struggle once you got your mind on other things. It would have been worse, for sure, if you would have been at the beginning of your pregnancy. Had that been the case, you wouldn’t have been able to hold your food down.

Once you heard the bubbling of the coffee machine slow down in the kitchen, you stood up from your seat at the table and walked over. On your way, you cranked open the kitchen window, hoping that a bit of fresh air would help with the smell.

You then brought Oscar’s usual black coffee cup down from its cupboard and filled it up with coffee, leaving a little bit of space for the milk that you poured in when you passed the refrigerator, and then waddled back over to him where he was boredly flicking through Lucía’s Garfield comic.

“Here you go, papi.” You said as you reached him, putting down the coffee cup in front of him, careful not to spill any on the magazine because if you did, you knew hell would be unleased when its owner woke up.

Oscar looked up at you, closing the comic and pushing it to the side and pulling you into his lap by your arms. “Gracias, mamas.” He thanked you, raising his head in an indication for you to come closer.

And you did just that, leaning your head down to press a kiss to his lips. You smiled against his lips and he hummed, his hands contently rubbing along the sides of your thighs.

You didn’t get a lot of moments with just Oscar anymore so you took your sweet time with each other, slowly moving your lips together in synchronization.

Whenever you had some free time on your hands, he always had some illegal shit to take care of. When he had some time to spare, you always had some errands to run and when you both, against all odds, had some free time, Lucía was always there with you.

It was risky getting frisky in the open, you knew, as anyone could’ve walked right in on it, but in that moment you didn’t care.

Your hands slowly moved over his arms, shoulders and neck, coming up to grab his face to pull his face even closer to yours, and his hands moved to your butt, turning you more against him in his lap.

It wasn’t the most gracious embrace with your giant stomach coming in the middle, but it was comfortable anyhow, his touches sending small holts of electricity through your body

“Good morn-“ Cesar stopped himself in the doorway as he entered the living room just then.

You broke apart from the kiss, both out of breath, and looked over at him just in time to see his entire face scrunch up in disgust. But not because of what he had just walked in on. No, that he was used to, more so than he would like to admit.

Instead, he started sniffing the air, looking around and not even blinking an eye to the intimate moment he had just caught you in.

“Agh, dude. What is that smell?” He asked and Oscar wasted no time in pointing to the coffee table.

“Chicken.” He spoke out in an annoyed voice, shaking his head and getting defensive at the look his mano was suddenly giving him. “Don’t look at me.”

Cesar glared back at him. “Look, he’s been gone 12 years. I just want a chance to get to know him.” He said.

Oscar nodded, one of his hands leaving your butt to pick up his coffee mug. “Then you can clean up after him. I’ve got bigger things to worry about. Block’s been quiet.” He said, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a big gulp.

Cesar stared at him and it was only then you noticed the towel hanging from his hand, the realization that he was wearing swimming trunks hitting you shortly after.

He then went to move past you where you sat and Oscar put down the mug and stood up on his feet in no time, still holding on to your waist as you stood up with him and reaching his other hand out to catch Cesar’s shoulder.

“Hey, where you going?”

Cesar gave him an obvious look. “Duh. The pool. It’s open.” He answered rudely and Oscar raised his eyebrows at him.

“Not before you clean up that nasty ass chicken.”

“The chicken can wait a few more hours.” You heard yourself speak before you had even gotten the time to process the thought in your head, but when they turned to look at you, there was no going back, their looks urging to you to continue. “You’re taking Lucía and going with your mano to the pool.”

“Mamas-“

“No.” You interrupted Oscar, pushing at his chest. “Go wake her up and I’ll pack you a bag. Cesar can clean up when he comes home.”

You smiled at him and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Cesar’s face lighting up into a smile to his brother, too.

Said brother glared down at you and you could practically hear his thoughts; you were being too easy on Cesar.

But he didn’t say anything, only turning on his heel and heading to your bedroom to bid to your command.

Meanwhile, you packed his and Lucía’s swimming suits into a bag along with two towels and her Winnie The Pooh bathrobe, a bottle of sunscreen, some water and sandwiches for lunch and of course, the worn-out Garfield comic that she always had to “read” when she ate.

After a good five minutes of convincing Oscar that you would be alright on your own for a few hours, they left for the pool and the second they were out of the house, you laid down in your bed and fell asleep again.

By the time you woke up again the alarm clock by your side was showing 3:27pm, meaning you had been asleep for a good three and a half hours.

You had totally intended to let Cesar clean up the mess left behind by his dad by himself to a start, but after doing two loads of laundry and vacuuming and dusting his room like you had put a pin in a few days ago, you were left restless and bored while awaiting someone’s return and company.

So you brought out a plastic bag and began cleaning off the trash on the coffee table, having to scrub it down with gloves in order to get the juices of the old, rotten chicken out of the wood.

And of course, Oscar had chosen that time out of all the times to return home.

Lucía had run straight past you into her room, her hair still wet and her body dressed in her swimsuit and bathrobe.

While she disappeared down the hallway to your room, Cesar and Oscar stopped in the doorway of the front door at the sight of you scrubbing away at the table, meeting your eyes with different expressions on their faces.

Cesar’s was a mixture of gratefulness that you had relieved him of his work, and nervousness as he knew what was about to come.

Not wanting to be around when shit went down, he slipped off to his room after kissing you hello, leaving you alone with Oscar who was glaring coldly at you for doing the exact thing he had told you not to do.

But he hadn’t said a word, simply taking the trash bag standing by your side and taking it with him outside.

Dinner was tenser than usual that afternoon and when you had shut yourself into your room to put Lucía to sleep later that night, you listened as Oscar yelled his father out in Spanish, pointing out that you were heavily pregnant and still did more around the house than he did.

You couldn’t hear any of Ray’s replies as he was clearly talking with a normal indoors voice, Oscar being the only one yelling, but come next morning when you were cleaning away after Cesar’s breakfast, Ray got out of the sofa and told you to sit down and let him do it.

Surprised, you did as told, the two of you conversing while he cleaned and even fixed you breakfast.

He was obviously trying his hardest to earn his stay, he just hadn’t gotten the routine in yet. You knew Oscar was having a harder time accepting his presence, but you were grateful that he was even trying.

Oscar came out from shower a few minutes later to find his dad feeding Lucía yogurt, the two of them chatting away about Garfield while you sat eating the toast he had fixed you up before she had joined you at the table.

He obviously approved of the change in his dad’s behavior because he served himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table rather than leaving the room, but he still didn’t say anything.

For the next two weeks, they barely spoke a word to each other. Ray tried to spark up conversations every day to a start but he stopped when he realized he wasn’t making any progress, respecting Oscar’s unspoken wish to be left alone.

Whenever Ray would volunteer to look after Lucía, Oscar would just stare at him with distaste as you agreed, while you, for one, were just happy to see her having so much fun.

He was great with her, taking her out for ice cream, bringing her back small toys when he came home from work and spoiling her rotten to the extent he could with his small income.

On the afternoons Oscar were out handing gang-related things, Ray started walking with you and getting her from daycare so that you didn’t have to walk by yourself, which in turn resulted in Oscar making sure he was free around that time every day to minimize the time you and Lucía spent with him.

He did everything in his power to keep you away from him without actually speaking his concerns out loud, not wanting a repeat of the first night. But whatever he did, everyone but him just seemed to grow closer to Ray and it made him furious.

He was now on his third week staying with you, it was a Friday afternoon and you were just coming back from having picked Lucía up from daycare.

Oscar was walking behind you with her sleeping form held tightly against his chest, his arms wrapped around her back and her head resting on his shoulder, her thumb sucked into her mouth and her comfort blanket hanging from her hand.

You were walking ahead and stepped through the front door first, holding it open for him so that he could walk inside without bumping Lucía into the doorway.

While he disappeared straight down the hallway to put Lucía to bed, you spotted Cesar lying back-down on the couch, his face illuminated by the bright light streaming from his phone that was held over his face.

He barely even noticed your presence, concentrated on whatever it was he was doing on his phone and you raised an eyebrow at this, shrugging your jacket off and dumping it on the chair across from the couch.

Before you could say anything to him, though, Oscar walked back into the living room. “Where’s dad?” He wasted no time asking and only then did Cesar look away from his phone, surprised to see two pairs of eyes at him.

He shrugged his shoulders at the question. “I thought he went with (Y/N) to pick up Lucí.”

“No, I did.” Oscar answered immediately, narrowing his eyes slightly and taking a step forward.

Cesar gave him a look. “Yeah, I can see that.” He shrugged again, turning back to his phone, not seeming very bothered. “He’s probably still at work.”

Oscar snorted. “He got off at four. It’s almost seven.”

As the brothers kept bickering back and forth about Ray’s whereabouts, a bad feeling settled in the pit of your stomach and before you could even register that your body was moving, your feet carried you over to the kitchen island where your wallet was laying on full display.

With a shaky hand, you opened it, and instantly got your suspicions confirmed.

“Shit.” You swore quietly under your breath, hanging your head down.

But no matter how lowly you had spoken, Oscar had heard you and walked over to you, asking. “What?”

You looked at him, guilt and pity building up in your chest. Could he really have been right about Ray all this time? Had you been naïve and misinterpreted his affection for Cesar and Lucía?

“My bus card isn’t in my wallet.” You answered finally, keeping your voice down so that Cesar wouldn’t hear you and get any ideas.

A glare instantly settled over his face, and he didn’t bother keeping his voice down as he shook his head. “What did I tell you? Huh?” He questioned, and Cesar, sensing the atmosphere taking a turn for the worse, walked over.

“What’s going on?” He looked between you with a questioning glance and Oscar let out a humorless laugh.

“You gonna tell him?” He asked and you closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose and breathing out before looking back at Cesar.

“My bus card isn’t in my wallet and it was when we left an hour ago.”

Cesar’s face turned cold almost immediately, his eyes hardening as he understood what you were insinuating. “No.” He shook his head, taking a step back and clenching his fists at his sides. “No. He wouldn’t just leave. Not without saying goodbye.”

“Yeah, he would.” Oscar let out a scoff, followed closely by a dry laugh.

You sent him a glare at his insensitivity, but before you got the time to tell him off about it, Cesar whipped around to look at him and prodded a sharp finger into his chest

“Of course he would, with the way you’ve been treating him!” The youngest Diaz brother exclaimed angrily, tears already building up in his eyes as the panic settled in him. “I just got him back and now you’ve pushed him away, why do you always ruin everything good in my life?!”

Oscar looked at his brother with hard eyes and stood quietly, just taking on his rage, but the way his Adam’s apple bobbled in his throat indicated that he wasn’t feeling as unbothered about the situation as he put on.

Just the thought of how broken he would be if Ray actually left again caused your heart to tug in your chest, even more so when you realized you would be the one left behind to pick up the pieces not only from Oscar’s broken heart but Cesar’s too.

“Cesar, calm down.” You tried reasoning with him, putting a calming hand on his shoulder. “We don’t know what’s going on yet. We can’t just rush to conclusions, maybe he just-“

“There is no maybe!” Oscar exclaimed, turning to look at you and in turn causing you to look back to him. “He left, like I told you he would. This shit’s on you.”

“Don’t blame her.” Cesar instantly jumped to your defense, getting up in his brother’s face. “This is your fault. Not hers. She’s done nothing but try to make him feel welcome.”

They glared at each other, both clenching their fists at their sides and not moving a single muscle. You were left not knowing what to do, your heart beating violently in your ribcage, your pulse deafening in your ears.

But then the front door opened, and all of you turned your heads to the source of the disruption, holding your breaths as you watched Ray walk inside with several paper bags balanced in his arms.

He hadn’t noticed you yet, busying himself with kicking a pair of shoes out of the doorway in order to be able to get in without dropping the bags.

After stepping inside, he turned around and closed the door behind him softly, and then he turned around to face you, stopping in his tracks once he caught sight of you.

His eyes turned unsure as he became aware of the tense atmosphere and the threatening stance both of his sons were standing in.

He looked at them for a moment, silently wondering what was going on, and then turned his gaze to you.

When your eyes met his, you felt more relieved than you had ever done in your life before. Not just for Cesar’s sake, but also for Oscar’s, because no matter how much he would have tried to deny it, you knew that it would have absolutely broken him if he left again.

He had been forced to grow up early in life when having the responsibility of raising his brother on his own thrown on him, but inside of him there was still a small part of the little boy he had been back then and that small part craved his father’s attention and presence.

He tried so hard not to show it, to not show himself weak by covering his true feelings up with the hate and spite he had taught himself to feel for his dad, but deep down, he still loved him. You knew it, he knew it and you were pretty sure Ray knew it too, and that it was therefore that he always kept trying to talk to him.

“Everything okay here?” Ray was the one to finally break the silence and at the sound of his voice, both brothers seemed to relax, their shoulders slumping and their glares faltering.

While Oscar looked at him with a foreign expression, unreadable even for you, Cesar looked at him with pure relief.

Ray noticed this, giving his youngest a worries look when he caught sight of the tears built up in his eyes.  “You alright, mijo?”

Cesar offered him a watery smile before turning back to glare at Oscar. “I told you he wouldn’t leave.” He spat out shortly, not saying another word to any of you before walking off, the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut reaching your ears a few seconds later.

The three of you were left in silence again and Ray awkwardly looked between the two of you. He carefully balanced the bags with one of his arms, slowly reaching his other hand into his back pocket do grab something.

Once he got a hold of whatever object it was, he held it out for you and you realized quickly that it was your bus card.

"The fridge was empty so I borrowed your bus card to go to the store.” He informed you. “Wanted to save you the trouble of going on your own. I hope that's alright."

A smile pulled at your lips as you took the card back from him. "Of course. Thank you." You thanked him, but Oscar wasn’t as impressed.

His face pulled into a nasty glare, eyes narrowed to the point where they were just lines of eyelashes.

“Did you take her credit card too?” He attacked, his entire stance rigid.

He wouldn’t admit it but you could read him like an open book, see that he had gotten scared and was now trying to cover up the vulnerability with anger; the only way he knew how.

Ray turned to look at him with an offended look crossing over his features. “I know I’m not the best person but-“

“You’re not.” Oscar quickly interrupted. “You’re as bad as they come.”

Ray nodded, not even bothering to deny his son’s accusations because he knew it was true. “But I would never steal from family.” He finished the sentence he had been trying to get out before being interrupted.

Without waiting for another reply from Oscar, probably knowing that he was just going to keep fighting, he turned to you, now with a smile on his lips. “I got you something.”

Your eyes instantly flickered to Oscar who was now narrowing his eyes in suspicion, but while he kept glaring, you only perked up with curiosity, following Ray as he walked over to the kitchen island to put the bags down, watching as he began rummaging through one of them.

“It’s in here somewhere…” He mumbled to himself while unpacking the bag in order to get a better view of what was inside, and no longer than a few seconds later, you watched as he pulled out a small, white baby bodysuit.

He smiled as he unfolded the tiny piece of clothing and turned it around, and your eyes widened at the sight of the words printed across the front in shimmery, golden letters.

‘Mommy and Daddy’s Little Saint’.

The smile on Ray’s face was genuinely excited as he proudly presented his find. “For the baby. You know, Saint as in Santo.” He explained. “It’s white so it works for both a girl and a boy.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took it from him, feeling the soft fabric under your touch and tracing your fingers over the letters.

Before you could stop yourself, you had wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as your stomach would allow.

His hands unsurely found their way to your back, patting you lightly.

“Thank you.” You mumbled into his shoulder, completely oblivious to the look Oscar was giving you.

Ray patted your hair and hugged you back, frowning slightly as he didn’t know why you were getting so emotional. “No problem, mija.” He answered, and that’s when the hormones got the best of you and everything just came crashing down.

You tore yourself out of his embrace and put the bodysuit down on the barstool by the kitchen island before wordlessly hurrying down the hallway, closing yourself into the bathroom.

You liked to convince yourself that you weren’t affected by your parents, or lack thereof, and you usually weren’t, but when you were pregnant you leaned pretty quickly that it was a subject to stay away from.

Just the mere thought of them could make everything, all the pain you had been forced to withstand through your life, come flooding back in one moment, and despite his past record of walking out on his family, Ray still had a natural fatherly feel to him.

When you hugged him and heard him use the nickname that so many parents used to show affection for their kids, something you had never gotten to experience before, all of it just got too overwhelming for you.

Ray was rooted to his spot, looking at you with shock written all over his face. He turned to Oscar, who was still watching him with squinted eyes, although now a lot less hostile.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, and Oscar just sniffed, walking over to him.

“No. She gets like that.” He said, picking the bodysuit up from the barstool when he got close enough to reach it, taking a look at it for himself and turning his lips down in a ‘not bad’-expression. “This is nice. She appreciates it.”

He ripped the tag off the hem and began folding it, ignoring the way Ray’s gaze was burning into the side of his face.

“And you?” Ray asked, and Oscar nodded, avoiding his gaze.

“Yeah.” He answered simply before walking over to the side of the front door where your hospital bag stood at the ready, picking it up and packing down the bodysuit.  

Ray watched him from where he stood, not really sure what to say. “Do you need to go check on her?” He asked finally after a few seconds of silence, and once again, Oscar barely spared him as much as a glance.

“No. She wants to be alone when she gets like that. Hormones and shit. She’ll be back soon.” He replied, putting the bag back down and heading for the fridge by the couch.

Ray nodded, his eyes following Oscar as he moved around. He watched as he brought a beer out from the fridge and walked over to the table with it in hand, and as he sat down and grabbed the bottle-opener, snapping the metal lid off and wasting no time in bringing the bottle to his lips, taking a large gulp.

Oscar let out an annoyed sigh, feeling the stare burning into the side of his face.

“What?” He asked without looking up from the table, and Ray’s face changed to one of confusion.

“What?” He asked back, and finally, Oscar looked up to meet his gaze.

“You’re looking at me like you got something to say so speak.”

Ray gave him a hesitant look. “I’ve been here three weeks and I haven’t heard anything about her parents. Got me wondering, is all.” He spoke slowly.

Oscar nodded, looking at him for a few more seconds before turning his attention back to the table, lifting the bottle of beer to his lips for another sip. “She has no parents.” He replied. “Cesar, Lucía and I are all she’s got.”

“Where are they?”

“Left her with her babysitter when she was five to go get dinner, never came back. She grew up in the system.”

“You sure nothing happened to them?” Ray questioned, his voice still careful, almost as if one wrong word would make Oscar blow up. And in truth, it probably would.

“No.” He took another gulp of his beer. “They left a note.”

Ray’s face fell, his hands gripping at the edge of the kitchen island behind him. “That’s rough.”

“Mhm.” Oscar hummed, moving a small piece of cereal around on the table in front of him, left behind from Cesar and Lucía’s breakfast earlier that morning.  

“For what it’s worth-“

Oscar’s head instantly whipped up, a hard glare crossing his features. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth shit.” He spat, causing Ray to flinch back slightly.

But no matter how discouraged he got, he continued. “I’m sorry I never called or wrote. If I could take it back and do it differently, I would.”

“But you can’t.” Oscar glared and Ray shook his head.

“No, I cant.” He agreed. “I already told Cesar this the other day but if I got the chance to choose my kids, I would choose the two of you every time. You’ve had it rough, been down the same path I’ve been stuck on all my life. But I’m proud of you, mijo. Of what you’ve got going on here. I know you don’t want me around but I’m not here to stir shit up for you. I’m here to make things right.”

Oscar looked up at his dad while he spoke, listening to him intently and not interrupting him once. The glare on his face was gone when he finished. However, the hard look in his eyes remained in his eyes as he answered.

“You can’t. It’s too late for that.”

But Ray only started back. “That doesn’t mean I should stop trying.”

Oscar nodded in response, the two of them holding their eye-contact as a comfortable silence fell over them. Half a minute later, Oscar finally broke the stare, turning his gaze to the side as he took another swig of his beer before putting it down on the table.

He stood up and headed over to the fridge again, wordlessly bringing out another bottle and heading back to the table where he snapped the cap off.

Grabbing his beer, he walked over to Ray where he was standing by the kitchen island and shoved the untouched beer into his chest, pushing past him and walking around the counter.

Ray took it and turned around, meeting Oscar’s eyes over the counter as he motioned for the bags that were still just standing around. “Make yourself useful.” He ordered, and without waiting for a response, he began unpacking the bags, Ray following his example after taking a sip of his beer.

Half an hour later, your hormones had calmed down, allowing you to stop crying about the bodysuit and exit the bathroom again after freshening yourself up by splashing some cold water into your face.

You slowly and quietly walked down the hallway, slowing down slightly as you reached the corner at the sound of Ray and Oscar’s voices.

“Do it like this instead.” You heard Ray instruct, and Oscar’s annoyed reply came only a second later.

“I know how to cut a jalapeño, anciano.”

“You’re getting the seeds everywhere. They’re supposed to stay on the core.”

“You do it if you’re so much better.”

You slowly rounded the corner, careful not to make a sound.

Your eyes found the two of them in the kitchen immediately, standing side by side. The kitchen lamp was shining down on them and on the stove, something was frying in a pan.

Oscar stood taller than his dad by at least five inches, yet he somehow still looked smaller beside him. Maybe it was the momentarily vulnerable look that crossed over his face when his dad reached out and  took the knife from his hand that caused the illusion.

“You cut the tip of first and then stand it up, hold the stem and cut down from the bottom. And then you can dice the slices.” Ray calmly showed him how he was supposed to cut it and even though Oscar’s eyes remained guarded, he watched. “No seeds, no mess. You try it.”

Oscar muttered some Spanish curse word under his breath, but still snatched the knife back from his dad’s hand and did as he had just been shown.

You took that as your cue to make yourself known, waddling into the kitchen with one hand on your stomach and the other at the small of your back for support.

Their head rose in sync when hearing you approaching, their hands stopping what they were doing. Oscar greeted you with a kiss and Ray greeted you with a smile, neither of them bringing up the way you had just ran off earlier of which you were grateful.

You took a seat on the barstool and only a minute later, a now calm Cesar appeared from his room and joined you in watching his dad and mano cook dinner together.

Things were still not all okay, far from it, but even a blind person could have seen that you were making huge progress, and in that moment, it was enough for everyone to be civil with each other, which was more than could be said about the past three weeks.

After dinner, Cesar had gone over to Monse’s house and you and Oscar moved into your bedroom where Lucía was still sleeping soundly in the bed while ray went to sleep in the couch.

You moved around the room, getting ready for bed quietly to not wake her up. While you were changing into your nightshirt over by the closed window, Oscar was sitting at the side of the bed, pulling his white tank top over his head.

Once you were properly dressed for bed, you wordlessly climbed onto the mattress, wrapping your arms around Oscar’s shoulder from behind and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

He turned his head to look at you, but before he could say or do anything, his phone lit up on the nightside table, starting to vibrate as a call came through.

You released his shoulders and sat back, watching as he took the phone and stood up, answering the call.

“Sí?” He spoke into the phone. You could hear someone talking on the other side of the call, but you couldn’t identify the voice or the words spoken.

Oscar whipped around to face you then, causing you to jump. “When?” He asked the person, and you watched with growing worry as a dark look crossed over features and he pulled a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I’ll call you back. Cuídate.”

He hung up and quickly started pulling on his clothes again, causing you to rush out of the bed. “Who was it?” You asked, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“Mario.” He replied without looking at you, pulling his tank top over his head and going over to the drawer in the corner of the room, where you knew he kept his gun.

“Since when does Mario call you?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing together and arms crossing over your chest.

He unlocked the top drawer of the dresser and wasted no time in bringing the gun out. “Since Cesar, his brother and their friends got caught up with Cuchillos.”

“What?!” You exclaimed before you could stop yourself, and the two of you instantly turned around to look at Lucía who was now stirring in her sleep. But luckily, she didn’t wake up.

You turned back to Oscar, finding him already looking at you. “Her men kidnapped them a few weeks ago and offered them the Rollerworld money back if they finished a job for her. It’s taking them to long, she’s getting impatient. She broke into Monse’s house yesterday and Ruby’s house just now, threatened their families.”

“What? Kidnapped? Why the fuck am I only just hearing about this now?” You asked, eyes widening. “Is that why Cesar was in such a hurry to get to Monse’s? What kind of job could Cuchillos possibly want a group of teenagers for?”

Oscar looked away from you, loading the clip into the gun. “Tracking down Lil’ Ricky.”

“What?” You whisper-yelled, not really sure what you were supposed to think anymore. “Isn’t he dead?”

Oscar glanced at you. “No.”

Your eyebrows creased together. “How do you know?”

“Because I helped them dig up his grave.” He replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. But it wasn’t.

Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief, barely believing what you were hearing. “You did what now?”

Your head was spinning. You didn’t know what the hell was going on at this point, you were being given far too much information at once and you weren’t able to process it.

You had known about the Rollerworld money, of course, as they had been used in the whole plot to buy Cesar’s freedom back and get the Prophets off the streets, but the rest of it… it was all new to you, this being the first time you were hearing about it.

You’d had absolutely no idea that Cuchillos had roped in the kids, and it got you wondering how long it had gone on behind your back.

“I have to go take care of this.” Oscar turned to you then, tucking the gun into the waistband of his pants and pulling his tank top over it.

Your teeth started chewing at the inside of your cheek automatically, the worry only intensifying by every second passing. “What are you going to do?”

He took a step closer to you, grabbing your face in his hands. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, mamas. I’ll be fine.” He promised.

You stared up at him, placing your hands on top of his. “Please tell me you’re not going after Cuchillos.” You pleaded, and the look on his face revealed that it was exactly what he was going to do.

In that moment, it really hit you how much information Oscar must have kept from you throughout your relationship and it didn’t sit well with you at all.

Not because he hadn’t told you, but because he could have been in life-threatening situations more times than you could count, and you wouldn’t even have known about it.

As if being able to read your thoughts, Oscar leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, pulling away and moving one of his hands to stroke your belly. “I’ll be fine.” He promised again. “I’ll be here when you wake up and we’ll start fresh. Prometo.”

With that, he lowered his hand to hook his pinky with yours, and as he left, you took his word for it. But when you woke up the next morning, you were alone.

Or well, not entirely alone; Lucía was still there, of course. But Oscar wasn’t. He never got home like he told you he would and you were worried sick.

But despite the sickening worry you pushed through and went on with your day as you usually would with a lot of help from Ray, who had called in sick to work when you had told him about Oscar’s approximate whereabouts.

He didn’t want to leave you home alone with your due date being so close, and you were thankful to have him there because in all your worried-sick glory, you could barely bring yourself to take care of Lucía, constantly spacing out.

You had called Cesar to ask if he had heard from his mano but he hadn’t. He told you that him, Ruby, Monse and Jamal had locked themselves inside in the Martinez house, the four of them wanting to be together until they knew where they were at with Cuchillos.

You called Mario too, since he had been the one to call Oscar to tell him about Cuchillos threatening their family, but he hadn’t heard back from Oscar either, and the man in question, of course, wasn’t picking up his phone.

You had never been as worried as you were now, and things didn’t get easier for you when Lucía kept asking you about her dad’s whereabouts, a question to which you couldn’t give an answer.

But you were lucky to have Ray there to help you out. He had tended to all the chores around the house throughout the day, all while taking care of his granddaughter and making sure you were okay.

He and Lucía had even cooked dinner together, a process during which she had cracked an egg over his head, something you knew Oscar would have found absolutely hilarious.

After dinner, Lucía went to bed on her own accord, exhausted after a long day of excessive playing with her Abuelo, leaving you and Ray to clean up in the kitchen.

No words were exchanged between the two of you as you worked together with the dishes. Ray washed them under the tap, scrubbing them free of food, and then passed them on to you for you to dry and put them back in their cabinet.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp jab of pain go through your lower abdomen, and after that, everything happened so quickly.

The glass that you were currently drying slipped out of your grasp as you reached out to grab on to the counter for support out of instinct, the glass shattering around your feet as it hit the floor.

Ray’s head whipped around in your direction and he wasted no time in dropping the plate he was currently washing, turning off the tap in one swift movement before rushing over to you.

“Watch your feet.” He instructed you worriedly, stepping over the big shards of glass to help you back away to a clean part of the floor. Once he was sure that you were safe, he let go of your arms. “I’ll go get the broom.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned around, stepped back over the glass and disappeared down the hallway, leaving you to support yourself by the kitchen island as another sharp jab of pain spread through your stomach.

This time, the pain was much more intense, causing you to rush your hand to your belly, and before you knew it, a warm feeling spread through your lower parts, wetness soaking the leggings you were wearing.

“No, no, no, no, no, not now. Please, not now.” Your eyes widened, panic settling in your chest as the pain hit you again. “Ray!” You yelled out, holding on to the counter with all your might as the pain got worse.

He came running in no time, meeting your eyes with a worried glance.

“Call Oscar again.” You instructed him at once, trying your hardest to focus your breathing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he approached you, but as his eyes flickered from your face, scrunched up in pain, to the floor where you were now standing in a puddle of fluids, he got his answer.

“Shit.” He cursed, walking over the glass without a single care in the world and rushing over to your side. “Okay, let’s sit you down, mija.”

With the new-found support, you were able to waddle over to the kitchen table where he helped you sit down on a chair, all while calling Oscar on his phone.

“He’s still not answering.” He stated the obvious and you squeezed your eyes shut, the pain becoming more intense and your heart picking up in speed.

“Take my phone, my code is Oscar’s birthday.” You told him, holding on to the backrest of the chair next to yours and motioning with your other arm to the coffee table where you had left your phone.

He wasted no time, rushing over and grabbing your phone as you opened your eyes again, and in that moment you just wished Oscar could have been there to see his father type in the digits of his birthday without as much as a doubt in his mind.  

“Text Geny, tell her the baby’s coming. Then call 911.”

He didn’t protest even once, following your instructions while silently wondering how you could be so calm in such a stressful situation.

Not more than four minutes later, Geny and Cesar burst through the front door, right before the ambulance got there.

Geny went to look after Lucía and Cesar ran up to your side immediately while Ray kept trying to reach Oscar both through texts and calls, but to no avail.

The oldest Diaz was panicking, not at all sure what he was supposed to do, but Cesar was calm, giving you encouraging words and helping you control your breathing as you were helped into the ambulance.

This was, after all, not the first time he had supported you through this process.

While Geny stayed behind to look after Lucía, Cesar and Ray rode with you in the ambulance. Ray rode in the front with the driver while Cesar stayed in the back with you, holding your hand through the entire ride.

When you reached the hospital and you were pushed inside in a wheelchair, he still didn’t let go of your hand. Or maybe you were the one who wasn’t letting go, but either way, he didn’t complain once.

You were wheeled into an empty room and transferred onto a bed where two nurses helped you out of your clothes while Cesar and Ray waited outside.

Once you had received your epidural and were properly dressed and situated, with your legs in the holsters and holding a mask of laughing gas to your face, Cesar and Ray came inside and joined your side again.

They sat down in a chair each at either side of you, Cesar holding your free hand while Ray held on to the bag you had packed months earlier in preparation for this day.

The doctor stood by, scribbling down notes on a pad while awaiting you to be dilated enough to begin. He looked up at Ray over his glasses.

“What’s your relation to the patient, sir?” He asked him, his pen stilling on the notepad briefly.  

“They’re my brother- and father-in-law.” You replied through controlled breaths before they got the chance to say anything, squeezing your eyes shut and clutching down on Cesar’s hand as another contraction hit you.

“And the father?” He asked, taking notes.

This time, Ray spoke up. “I’ve been trying to get to him but he’s not picking up.”

You let out a dry laugh through the pain, pushing your head back into the pillow and removing the mask from your face to breathe some fresh air.

“Of course he chose this day out of all the days to get caught up with some bullshit.” You panted out, letting out a sound of pain and tensing your entire body as another, much bigger contraction went through your body.

Beside you, Cesar cursed under his breath from having his hand basically crushed, while the doctor put the notepad away and moved down to your legs, checking under the cover the nurses had put over your legs and humming.  

“We’ll have to start without him.” He looked up at you, pulling a chair toward him and sitting down, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. “Do you want them to stay with you?”

You nodded furiously, putting the mask back over your face. “Yes.”

Cesar and Ray remained silent at your sides as the delivery was started. Cesar kept holding on to your hand and throughout the process, a nurse handed Ray a wet, cold rag to dab your sweaty forehead with.

The pain was excruciating but even though it had been four entire years since you gave birth to Lucía, the feeling was familiar, allowing you to handle it a lot better than you had back then in combination with the gas.

This time, the thing hindering you from being completely calm was the fact that Oscar couldn’t be reached and that you had no idea where he was, if he was okay, or if he was even alive.

For all you knew, he could be dead in a ditch somewhere and the mere thought of it brought tears to your eyes.

The doctor and nurse kept encouraging you, thinking that you were just crying from the pain, but Ray saw your sorrows for what they were, reaching out and holding your hand in his tightly once you abandoned the mask.

“He’ll be alright, mija.” He promised you, and you nodded your head while squeezing both his and Cesar’s hands as you gave another push.

And then, almost as if someone had heard your silent prayers for Oscar’s safe return, a nurse rushed inside, stopping in the doorway.

“A man just arrived, claiming he’s the father. He’s hurt, looking like he’s been beaten pretty bad, and acting aggressively so we need someone to come and identify him before we let him in.” She spoke in one breath, and Cesar was on his feet immediately, sending you a comforting smile.

“I’ll go.” He said, and the nurse nodded, leading him away.

But you had barely even registered her words, too caught up in your own head, giving all of the little concentration you had left after the drugs to the pushing.

It wasn’t until Oscar appeared in the doorway that you truly allowed yourself to relax, letting out a cry of relief.

“Oscar.” You cried, and he was at your side in no time, taking the seat Cesar had previously been occupying while the boy in question stayed in the doorway.

“I’m here, mi amor.” He told you, and you looked at him, letting out another cry when you caught sight of his bruised and bloody face. “You’re doing great, mami. Keep going.” He told you, gripping your hand with both of his.

As he kept giving you encouraging words, kissing your knuckles, Ray stood up and sneaked out of the room with Cesar, leaving the two of you alone.

The delivery lasted for another fifteen minutes, and then with one last push, a new cry broke through the air as your body fell limp on the bed.

Oscar left your side to cut the umbilical cord of your newborn baby, being the first one to hold it in his arms once the nurse had wrapped it in a blanket.

He looked down at the new life with a smile on his face, slowly walking over to your side again, sitting down and turning the bundle so that you got a clear view.

“It’s a girl.” He told you smugly, smirking at you, and you groaned playfully.

“Damn it.” You cursed, your head hitting the pillow behind you again, but you smiled and Oscar chuckled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your damp forehead.

With the help of one of his hands, you were able to scoot up into a sitting position on the bed, looking down at your newborn daughter’s pruny face from your seat.

When Lucía was born, she had been screaming the second she came out and not gone quiet for hours, but this baby was quiet, only whining slightly as she moved around in Oscar’s arms.

You smiled at the sight, silently holding your shaking arms out. You didn’t need to say anything, Oscar carefully handing the bundle over to you, and you instantly sniffled when you felt her in your arms, a fresh set of tears starting to prick your eyes.

He sat beside you, leaning his elbows on his knees and looking at you with a concentrated expression.

You were suddenly pulled back to reality, your eyes flickering away from your daughter’s perfect face and over to Oscar, your heart falling in your chest as you got your first proper look of his face.

Both of his eyes were purple and slightly swollen, small cuts littering his face and an even bigger cut on his neck. Worry filled your body as you noticed his drooping eyes and took note of the fact that the cut on his neck was still producing fresh blood.

“Oscar...” You whispered and his eyes instantly moved from the baby to you.

Before you got the chance to say anything else, however, there was a knock at the door.

Both of you turned your attention to the source of the sound, finding Ray standing there with the hospital bag slung over his shoulder, alongside the nurse who had come in and alerted you of Oscar’s arrival earlier.

“Sir, you’re bleeding.” She stated the obvious, taking the words right out of your mouth. “If you come with me, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

A glare instantly settled over his face, but when you reached your hand out to touch his hand, it melted right off. He turned to look at you and you nodded in encouragement. “We’ll be fine.”

Ray left the nurse’s side, walking into the room and coming over to Oscar, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. “I’ll stay and look over them.” He promised.

Oscar sighed, turned back to you and gave you and the baby a kiss each, before silently walking after the nurse out of the room, leaving Ray to take his seat.

He dropped the bag next to the bed and sank into the chair. He looked at you questionably and before he could say anything, you smiled, answering. “It’s a girl.”

He smiled back lightly, peeking over the bundle of blankets.

“Do you want to hold her?” You asked, and he looked at you with a doubtful expression. But then he nodded, and carefully reached out to take her from your arms and into his own.

He looked down at her carefully, bouncing her in his arms lightly and pulling the blanket from out of her face, touching her nose.

When feeling his touch, she reached a small hand out and wrapped her even smaller fingers around one of his, causing him to smile up at you. “She likes me.”

You chuckled and nodded, leaning back on the bed in exhaustion. “Yeah.” You agreed, feeling your heart tug in your chest when he looked back at her and sniffled, bringing an arm up to wipe his eyes.

Oscar reappeared in the doorway then, the cut on his neck now covered by a thick bandage and the smaller ones on his face clean from dried blood.

Ray threw a look over his shoulder when hearing his approaching footsteps, turning back to you and carefully handing the baby back before standing up, meeting Oscar in the middle of the room.

Oscar threw a quick look at you, making sure you were both okay, and when getting a smile of confirmation, he turned back to his dad while you turned your attention to the baby, giving them as much privacy as you could considering the fact that you were still stuck in the same room.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Ray was the one to break the silence between them. Oscar only nodded his head once, which urged Ray to continue. “I, uh… I found an apartment.”

Oscar scoffed, a glare crossing over his features. “You’re leaving again?”

“You’re leaving?” Came Cesar’s voice, now standing in the doorway with a small, white plastic bag clutched in his hand. His face was sad, eyes wide.

“No.” Ray looked over to him and quickly protested, shaking his head, and both Oscar and Cesar visibly relaxed. He turned back to Oscar. “It’s just down the street from you. Figured you won’t want me on the couch now that you’ve got a baby to take care of.”

He paused, eyes flickering down slightly, but then he made his move and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a good squeeze. “You did good, mijo. I’m proud of you.”

Oscar’s face scrunched up with emotion, his eyes growing glassy, and before any of you could register it, they had wrapped their arms around each other in a tight embrace, Ray’s hands clapping his back in a fatherly manner while Oscar buried his face in his neck.

While they shared their moment, Cesar silently walked around them with a smile permanently splayed across his face, approaching you while raising the bag.

“I, uh, I wanted to bring you flowers but you know, the hospital cafeteria didn’t have much to offer so I bought candy bars instead.” He said nervously and your entire face lit up.

“You know I’d take chocolate over flowers any day.” You chuckled in relief at the thought of getting something to eat after the physically and mentally draining day, putting on a playful smirk and nodding to the baby. “I’ll trade you.”

Cesar’s nervous smile pulled into a much brighter one and he hurriedly took a seat at the edge of the bed, dumping the bag beside you and holding his arms out.

Handing him the baby, he looked down at her and then up at you again. “Do you have a name?” He asked and you parted your lips.

“Ariel.” Oscar spoke before you could answer, causing you to turn and glare at him as he joined your side again, Ray heading over for the chair at Cesar’s side.

“I thought we agreed on Isabel?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, and he gave you one of those annoyingly handsome smirks.

“No, you agreed. I didn’t.” He protested and you rolled your eyes.

“You could always mix them.” Cesar offered a solution, shrugging his shoulders while slowly rocking the sleeping baby in his arms.

You instantly shook your head, scrunching your nose up in disgust. “No, thank you.” You declined, begrudgingly. “I’d rather settle with Ariel.”

You sighed, laying back down and Oscar took your hand with a small chuckle. Five minutes later, Geny turned up with Lucía and her entire family, and not long after that, Monse and Jamal turned up with their parents, too.

That’s what you loved about the people in Freeridge. They knew when to give people space but they also knew exactly when you were supposed to be together.

You were like one giant family. It wasn’t perfect; rather, on the contrary, it was broken and pretty fucked up, but it was yours, and that was more than enough.

#oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz #oscar spooky diaz #spooky diaz #spooky x reader #spooky #on my block #on my block imagine #on my block x reader #omb imagine #omb #omb x reader #mario martinez #mario martinez x reader #mario martinez imagine #ruby martinez #cesar diaz #cesar diaz x reader #monse finnie #jamal turner

[citrusella-flugpucker]

All 68 of my SU fics, apparently

((Because @novantinuum did it and then I wanted to do it and then they said “do it” and I took it as a dare

Compiling these gave me a sense of accomplishment. And pain. In my wrist.

Multi-line summaries nearly always squashed to lessen the vertical length of this post, even if most of it is below a readmore))

Multi-chapter fics, regardless of collection status (chronological order--oldest to newest):

And He Doesn’t Wake: My first SU fic, complete; “It can't end like this. Or: Waxing realistic as we examine the events of the episode "Bubbled".” Steven suffers halfway-realistic effects from being exposed to the vacuum of space. Probably not super canon compliant given what we learned in Growing Pains but a fic that branches off at Bubbled and rejoins canon around Mindful Education (and written around that timespan).

Diamond in the Rough: Incomplete; “Connie is in the hospital with a serious disorder, and her biggest chance is an experimental treatment combining minerals with blood transfusions. Little does anyone know...” Originally crack of “Connie gets powers from PD-infused blood” but then ASPR happened and I have to figure out where it goes now (and I want to! but...).

The Results Are In: Incomplete; “Sadie gets a piece of mail from her dad. For most people that'd be pretty mundane, but it's a little more complicated considering who exactly her dad is.” Barb/Blue Diamond crack (it makes sense in context) and affectionately called “Space Maury” internally for reasons that will make sense later. Has a similar but less “it flips the ENTIRE plot” issue with ASPR. I have many idea chunks but almost no connection between them

He’s Gone: Complete (and technically a oneshot with two “bonus chapters”); “Steven asks Peridot to get the shirt Connie got for him for his birthday from his closet. He says he wants to look nice. She's confused by his request. Greg and the Maheswarans are less confused and more terrified. He keeps saying it'll be okay. They'll be okay, even though he'll be going away. It'll just be a couple of days now. Or: Steven and Pink Steven are unable to fuse after being separated on Homeworld. That's not good for Steven.” Steven dies. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. Might potentially get an extra chapter or two still. Or not. Eh.

Thanks, Padparadscha: Incomplete/open-ended oneshot collection; “Stories about the best gem.” Padparadscha oneshots.

Your No-Good, Dirty-Rotten, Gem-Shattering, Rebellion-Leading Mother: Incomplete, little desire to finish; “What if Steven had gone to Camp Green Lake instead of Stanley? Or: If Steven Universe And Holes Were The Same Universe: A Fanfiction (thanks @captainjzh) Or, as the top of my Google Doc I started back exactly a year ago (*2019-01-07) says: SU x Holes: Because the fact that Steven Universe and Stanley Yelnats are both 14 is messing with me”. Wrote this as an exercise after reading the appalling original shopped screenplay for the Holes movie which was basically a nuclear fallout enthusiasts dream world but also quite possibly the worst and most uncomfortable thing ever written and I have had to have whole pages bleached from my memory

It’s Okay to Need Help: Incomplete (three chapters total planned), the last part of the pre-SUF-finale “Steven Corruption Theory” collection; “"Everybody needs support sometimes, and you need support right now, with this. And that's okay." She takes a deep breath. "It's okay to need help, Steven." Or: (Based in corrupted Steven theory as well as taking inspiration/using characteristics from a fic by @love-killed-the-superstar​) Sometime after coming back from corruption, Steven sees a therapist to try to hammer out some lingering issues.” Steven has specific lingering issues from corruption due to the way they had to mitigate it, and that affects how he communicates with his therapist some days. Just been blocked on the best way to write it

Waiting is Worse: Incomplete; “Is there anything more awful than the feeling of powerlessness?” The movie mostly ends the same, except Steven doesn’t un-rejuvenate.

Realism: Incomplete, strong desire to complete; “As much as he may want it to be, this is not a dream. He's not possessing anyone. It's not happening to someone else. It's real.” Steven has the same effects happen to him as the Watermelon Steven from Escapism--an arm and a leg are amputated.

The President Kisses Babies, and Other White House Briefs: Incomplete, open-ended oneshot collection with very little overarching plot; “Oneshot escapades of President Connie Maheswaran and her First Man, Crystal Gem and public speaker, Steven Universe.” Inspired by a Tumblr post and with more ideas in the pipeline! Love this fic even if I lost most inspiration for four years!!

Collection (series) oneshots (chronological order):

Citrusella Tries (And Succeeds!) to Write a Fic Each Day of the Bomb: A collection where I tried to write a fic each day of the HotCG (wedding) bomb. I succeeded but also kind of not? XD

Could You Imagine?: “Imagination is wish fulfillment. What are some of the things Pearl has imagined?” Now We’re Only Falling Apart

Partake In New Extraordinary And Pleasing Pizza Lover Experiences (Or: Kiki's Lament): “Kiki rarely hates her job. But she does hate pineapples.” What’s Your Problem? (Also the title spells PINEAPPLE o.o)

Acquired Taste: “Steven has a snack as he helps prepare for an important ceremony.” The Question

My Whole Life: “Some people are just born to go into certain careers.” Made of Honor

We Can Think About Hope: Incomplete multi-chapter with no hope of completion (why it’s not listed in the multi-chapters, BTW... also the “kind of not” regarding success); “What's going on? What do we do now? Can you still hear me? (Or: The end of Reunited plays out differently.) (Or or: And He Doesn't Wake: Part II: This time with weirder angst! And more not waking!)”

Citrusella's "Steven Corruption Theory" Collection: A collection of fics written on the corruption theory premise before it became canon. It’s Okay to Need Help not duplicated here but would be at the end.

Change: “Steven's come back from probably the most serious thing that's happened to him--save almost dying after his gem was ripped out--but that doesn't mean he came back unchanged. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

My Skin: “Steven does a mental inventory of what's changed about him since his uncorruption and finds himself starting to fall into a hole of self-criticism, until a song playing downstairs sets him straight. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

Eternity in a Moment: “It had only taken a few hours, and yet, an eternity.”

I Can't Say with Confidence: “Over an hour. He's been sitting in the tub, fully clothed, the bathroom a mess… for over an hour.It should be working! Why isn’t it working?!” Based on this art!

It’s Okay to Need Help

Happy Steven's Day!: Just after Steven discovers his mother is Pink Diamond, Mother's Day rolls around...Greg just doesn't want Steven to be in a slump about it anymore.

You Deserve All the Joy: “Because nothing is better than being surrounded by family and love. Or: Steven's once-a-year struggle with a holiday he doesn't exactly have the ability to traditionally celebrate.” It’s Mother’s Day and Steven is sad. Post-ASPR

Universe Day: “"Being your dad is the only present I really need." Or: Greg and Steven talk and realize their experiences with Mother's Day have been two sides of the same coin.” Post-SUF

Citrusella's Comfortember 2020 Fics: Fics written based on prompts for November 2020 Comfortember... not finished with it

Speed Bump: “Steven's first night on the open road isn't as smooth as he wanted it to be. Attempt to combine prompts 2-6 of Comfortember (prompt 1 just couldn't be squeezed in): "first day/night", "nightmare", anxiety", "cuddling", "afraid to sleep"”

In the After: “Steven wonders if it was corruption. Comfortember days 7-10, though only in the most tenuous, technical sense (and by that I mean all four phrases are mentioned): "blanket fort", "lashing out", "confession", "crying"”

Late Night Hot Chocolate (described in next section)

Zombie Club Chronicles: Steven endures a violent accident on Frightnight (Halloween) that changes his life forever.

Beach City Zombie Club

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Steven] doesn’t enjoy the Halloween season, but [Fill in: Steven] take(s) them on a well-meaning trip to an old Gem Ruin where they come to realize [Pick from list: They’ve made a terrible mistake in coming here]

On Frightnight when he is 17, Steven experiences the most serious event of his young life. Almost exactly a year later, Steven takes Steven to Lars' ship in hopes of being able to hop off at a truly secluded gem ruin to talk about something that Steven and Steven have been disagreeing on for several months. Lars has an idea, and Steven comes to a realization.

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

Late Night Hot Chocolate (also a Comfortember fic)

"Steven? What are you doing?" He stares into the pot.

The gem half's voice comes monotone. "Making hot chocolate."

"It's three o'clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making… hot chocolate?"

The slyness on his face is one pixel away from nonexistent and yet it's practically a traffic cone to his other half, as he remarks flatly, "Because I've lost control of my life."

Or: Steven and Steven both have nightmares that threaten to take them back to... that night... One copes by making the other hot chocolate and pretending he really isn't having any problems.

Comfortember days 16-18: Protective, Flashbacks, Hot Cocoa

Standalone oneshots (reverse chronological order--newest to oldest):

Rumble Strips:

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Greg] notices [Fill in: Steven] is in a somber mood lately. Out of the goodness of their heart they try to cheer up the sad soul in the only way they know how: [Fill in: WHO WANTS TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP?!]

"I really thought I could handle myself on my own." He scoffed. "Even my own therapist didn't think I could do it."

"I bet she thought you could handle yourself just fine. She probably just thought you'd do better with your support system close, bud. Like, literally, I mean." His eye weaved through the thin line of gravel past the edge of the shoulder. "You started saying some pretty concerning things."

Or: Greg and Steven stop on the side of the interstate on their way to Empire City for New Year's, to have a conversation.

For the Cluster Christmas Writing Challenge!

Auto-Injector: “In an alternate timeline, Steven meets Bluebird at her welcome party but he cannot, under any circumstances, try her hors-d'oeuvres. Or: Steven ends up with allergies because why not” (I have three more ideas for chapters)

Don't Put Beans Up Your Nose: “"I know you want answers, and I wish I had some for you, really, Steven, but from what you've described…  those aren't things to play around with. It's unethical to knowingly subject you to those for the sake of 'experimenting', even if you consent." Or: Steven asks Dr. Maheswaran a question she's not ethically able to answer.”

The Exor-schist:

Prompt: A series of events have led to a terrifying effect on one or more of the series’ characters. [Randomly roll from list: Mr. and Dr. Maheswaran] are now suffering from [Randomly roll from list: Spiritual Possession]. How did this happen?

"This corrupted gem, it has a powerful connection to organic matter. Ones this powerful have been known to overtake and even kill humans."

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

It's My Party and I'll Dry If I Want To: “You would dry too, if it happened to you! Or: Steven says he wants a pool party for his eighteenth birthday in Delmarva, after over a year of traveling the country. ...But why isn't he swimming?”

Ace Up Your Sleeve: “Or in your back pocket, same diff. Or: Steven's sad about potentially not getting to go to Pride.” (oneshot and an epilogue)

Milestone: “"Okay, so like, the books aren't, like, useless, but they assume you have like the perfect baby. Maybe consider the following: kids are dorks, man." Or: Steven went to the doctor. Once. Or: Greg thinks Steven, at 15 months, is being weird and missing milestones and is worried he's a bad dad so he goes to Vidalia for help.” May eventually be part of a babby Steeb over the years collection

Full Enclosure: “What am I going to tell you? You're better off not knowing the trouble I'm in. / I don't want you to worry about what I've just seen, about where I've just been. / You don't have to be a part of this, I don't think I want you to be! / You don't need this, you don't need me... Or: Steven defines himself by his connection to others. So when they all leave, then… he's no one. (In short: Steven is crushed by his need to be needed.)”

Vice: “He could stop whenever he wanted to. He just didn't want to. Or: Steven falls into a bad habit and tries to rationalize it as okay as long as he's not completely abandoning the idea of improving his life.”

Stairwell Solitude: “Over ten years, Greg wrote just six letters to his parents. What could they have contained?” Post-Mr. Universe

Striations: “At Connie's behest, Dr. Maheswaran makes a house call to Steven's place after his un-monstering. It's different than his last appointment, but its core is the same.”

Everything Stays: “Ever so slightly, daily and nightly, in little ways, when everything stays... Steven's therapist brings up something she's noticed about him outside his PTSD.”

I Do It For Me: “"Forgiveness is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offense, and overcomes negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance." Steven asks his therapist a question. The answer may surprise him.”

A Break in the Case: “Dr. Maheswaran takes a look at Steven's results but quickly finds herself in over her head.” Mid-Growing Pains

I have a couple entries in the @connieswap omake collection (Comic Relief and Same Old Steven)--I’m not linking them

Changing Tastes: “ Steven and Connie share a conversation after watching Crying Breakfast Friends: Under the Butterknife.”

Rejuvenated Regrets: “Someone calls Steven's name from downstairs. He's not listening closely enough to know who it is. He's not sure he cares right this moment. He wants Mom—Rose—Pink—and that's the one person he knows it's not.”

Gut Feeling: “Every time, he has to push his brain off that train of thought--what if she does it again?--but for someone with super-strength, he's surprisingly not very good at pushing.”

Lapis Watches Titanic (1997) ...There’s no summary

The Cluster Halloween Exquisite Corpse 2019 (I only wrote part of this!!): “Lars tells a horror story but loses track of it, or; a bunch of fic writers do an exquisite corpse and hilarity ensues. Written by DocCairo, citrusella, E350, love-killed-the-superstar and br42.”

Drift Away: “There are timelines where Steven fell into the biopoison when the Earth cracked under his feet. Here we see three times Steven (technically) lived despite a dive into pure poison, and one time he didn't.”

The Rose Wilts: “Once upon a time, he knew Rose. But he knew he didn't know everything.Sometimes it feels like he's learned more about her after she died than he ever knew while she was alive.“ Doug and Rose used to be friends

Tying the Knot: “Steven never wears shoes with laces, because he can't tie them. When Connie finds out, he's pretty chill about it.”

Haploid: “You're not sure if this is what being shattered feels like. You don't know if you want to be sure.” Mid-CYM

Thestral: “"How many have you seen?" "All of them." She answered without hesitation. "Oh." Or: Pearl and Steven talk about a type of gem that corruption has given some... special characteristics.”

500 Words a Secret Santa Gift: The Gratuitous Reference: “200 words a day, every day, until Under the Knife comes back. Or Crying Breakfast Friends. We're not picky at this point. Secret Santa edition! (A Secret Santa gift for @e350tb that deliberately and gratuitously references their 100 Words a Day series.)”

Sesimorp, Sesimorp: “A Lapis Lazuli makes a beautiful work of art.”

Ship Talk: “Lars and Steven share a moment on the Sun Incinerator.”

No Way Around It: “An order is an order.”

Give It A Try!: “Steven gets a Diamond to try something new.”

Better Off: “Peedee ponders what could have been.”

Steven x A Nice Calm Life Please and Thank You™: A Case for the Realization of a Bold New Ship: “Steven deserves a happy life free of interplanetary struggle and strife. It's my OTP. So I'm going to give him that! :D”

I Don't Know: “Will this ever make sense? Will this ever feel normal?” Post-ASPR

Force of Nature: “Her diamond gave her orders no longer.”

My Gemmortal (by XXXbloodstoneshardz666XXX): “the escupaids fo steven hardlight amnesia lion universe and his freinds n crushs” (this is exactly what it sounds like)

The Picture of Steven Pink: “It took a lot out of him.” (SU but Steven takes on the injuries he heals)

Self: “In the Connie Swap AU, Steven considers his identity and place in his family, community, culture, and himself. For a kid who at least tries to be all sunshine and rainbows, this isn't exactly the most fun thing to do, but sometimes it's necessary.” (these are different than the things in the CS omake collection)

I Really AM My Mom...: “"When you're singing, you want to use enough air that you could blow a throatful of peanut butter clear across the room." The crackiest of escape-from-Homeworld plots, based on a ClickHole article and a joke headcanon.”

Left: “Of course there's shame in bailing.”

Old shames (chronological order): Stories I just kinda cringe at now

Shrinking Rose: “Steven never felt bad about his stature. Until he did.” (I just don’t love it)

A Rose for Emily: “What if Rose wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone before Greg? ...It's safe to say she has a skeleton in her closet.” (less old shame than the others on this list but was hard to shoehorn in the A Rose for Emily style writing)

Alone: “Steven won't open up about how everything that happened is affecting him. Not even to himself.” (I know I’ve written other dark stuff but this one just hits different)

You Should've Asked Me, I'm Really Good at Naming Bands (November 2019 Unfinished WIPs): “(title subject to change) I did a challenge that I had to write my WIPs in November (revised to November and December) or be forced to post them unfinished. I got some updates done, but several not done. These are those stories. Dun-dun.” (only “shame” because they were things that were never finished--I also had a Connie Swap omake I was supposed to finish or the punishment was not to post it unfinished but to write Steven and Spinel (NOTP) but I just never did that)

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fanfiction #su fanfiction #su fanfic #long post #(it should be considering there are 78 FICS IN HERE) #THIS POST IS ITSELF THE SIZE OF A FANFIC #(68 fics not 78)

[majoraop]

I heard you wanted more Sabo fanfics, @akemichan007, so here you are (I’m sorry in advance). This short story was inspired by the “whump” prompt in my card for the One Piece Bingo hosted by @op-pirate-fleet.

Dying Flame Sabo woke up to the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.   He slowly opened his eyes but couldn’t see anything in the complete darkness. He tried to stand up despite his aching body, but he was chained to a wall and could only twitch his fingers or turn his head. As soon as he did the latter, though, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach and coughed more blood. An internal injury, probably.   I feel weak…ad cold.   Cold? Since when could he feel cold, now that he was fire itself? He had eaten his late brother’s Devil Fruit, the Mera Mera no Mi. He could turn into fire now; he had even mastered the fruit! His flames were so hot they turned blue-white, so why was he trembling?   Am I dying?   If he had an internal haemorrhage, probably he was. Sabo pulled on his chains with all his remaining strength, but he couldn’t get free of them.      Seastone?   That substance made Devil Fruit users like him lose their strength and feel a horrible sensation similar to drowning. Sabo felt nauseous, but he still tried to focus on his surroundings: he couldn’t see anything, but he still had his other senses.   And Observation Haki.   He could smell blood and some other unpleasant things. Probably, he was locked into some prison. Where, though? His best guess was Mary Geoise’s underground, but he couldn’t be sure of that yet. He felt dampness on his kin. Naked skin. Someone had removed his clothes and boots—his hat, even! He only wore his pants now, but their fabric was tattered and dirty. Next, he focused on sounds. The silence was almost absolute, only rarely broken by distant sobs and cries. Just once, he heard a high-pitched scream. He didn’t want to think what it was about, even if he probably knew the answer already. Finally, Sabo used his Haki. He could feel his “ambition” slipping away, but he was still able to detect the presences of a few other people in the dungeon—or whatever that place was. Some of them were just feeble presences—probably coming from injured or tortured prisoners—but others belonged to guards. He didn’t feel maleficence radiating from them, but just cold indifference—which was even worse. Anyway, he recognised those auras.   I’m still in Mary Geoise, and I’ve messed up.   The original plan was to declare war on the Celestial Dragons, but then he and his comrades had decided to save Kuma as well: a revolutionary like them whom the World Nobles had enslaved. It had been risky, but the rescue had been successful. However, another unexpected event had made things go downhill for them.   But I couldn’t let those bastards kill Luffy’s friend!   So, he had rushed to save Nefertari Vivi after leaving Kuma to Karasu and the others.   I hope you made it out of this damned place safely…   Mary Geoise reeked of arrogance, prejudices, and injustice. There, slaves died day after day both under the sunlight and in the depth of darkness, unseen by anyone.   And they have the nerve to call this place the “Holy Land”!   Sabo spat blood mixed with disgust. He needed to be out of there, but how? At least, he had managed to save Vivi. The princess of Alabasta should have left the Red Line at this point and should be searching for his brother using the vivre card he gave her. Her father hadn’t been that lucky, though: when Sabo had arrived on the scene, he was already dead. The late king had shielded his daughter, saving her from the CP0 members that had attacked them.   Sabo wasn’t fond of monarchy, to put it mildly. There were better forms of government, and monarchs were horrible people for the most part. However, the Alabasta rulers were different. Their ancestors had refused to leave their people behind, and instead of becoming Celestial Dragons like the other families that had created the current World Government, they had remained just regular nobles. Sabo grimaced, remembering some very different nobles—his family.   No, they have never been my family. The Revolutionary Army is.   The Nefertari, however, were admirable people. Now, Vivi was the last living member of their dynasty, and she would search Luffy for help.   What are you doing now, little brother?   Sabo tried not to think about him but to no avail. To make matters worse, his predicament was probably similar to what his other brother had gone through before dying.   Did it hurt so much for you too, Ace?   Luffy would be devastated to learn that his only remaining brother had been sentenced to death too, accused of a crime he had not committed. Sabo gritted his teeth, remorse and pain clutching at his chest. The weight of his failure and its consequences was suffocating, and his rapid breathing and heart rate made him feel dizzy. He couldn’t accept the idea, but he wouldn’t survive long enough even to step on the scaffold—one last chance to get his freedom back somehow. No, he would die in that dark cell, alone.   I’m sorry, Luffy. I’m sorry, Dragon, Koala…my friends!   Sabo had often asked himself what Ace had felt in his last moments, and now he probably knew. He wanted to scream all his frustration and pain but felt too weak even for that. He pulled at his chains again, desperately, only gaining more wounds around his wrists. He panted in that damp, lonely darkness until his breathing returned normal, trying to calm down. However, all he could think of was his failure, his comrades in the Revolutionary Army, his younger brother.   Forgive me, Luffy…everyone!   Since joining the revolutionaries and even before getting his memories back, Sabo had known that his life would have been probably short. As a pirate, Ace must have thought the same, too. They all chose their own path, and there was no point regretting it now. Sabo knew it, but it still hurt. It hurt that he hadn’t been able to taste full freedom in his life yet. It hurt that he hadn’t been able to party together with Luffy. It hurt that he had never completely opened his heart to his closest comrade.   Will you cry, Koala?   Heck! Probably Dragon, their stoic commander, would cry too upon learning about his death. Sabo owned him everything: a new life, a place to belong, a goal. He closed his hands in tight fists as he realised that, without him, the whole army was at risk. Dragon’s lifetime goal itself was at stake: Sabo knew he was the strongest among them, but he was getting old.   And I won’t be next to you in your final fight.   The awareness of that hit him hard, especially now that he knew the time of reckoning was near. The Celestial Dragons had gone too far by killing the king of Alabasta and attempting on his daughter’s life. They had grown too arrogant—even for their standards. They wanted to suppress any flame, any spark of rebellion, but that would make the freedom-seeking spirit always latent in people only grow stronger. Sabo’s only consolation was that, even if Dragon’s plan would fail, there was no way his younger brother at least wouldn’t change the world.   A world so rotten that any change would be for the better at this point.   Sabo coughed more blood as numbness was slowly replacing pain. That wasn’t a good sign.   How much do I have left? Days? Hours?   Sabo smiled bitterly. All of his life, he had searched for freedom and its meaning; yet, he would die in an underground prison.   Away from the sun, away from the people I love, away from the wind and the waves...   Even if it didn’t make any difference, he closed his eyes. No, it did make a difference. Now, instead of darkness, Sabo saw his memories. His precious childhood memories with his beloved brothers, when they were still young and untainted by the cruel world.   No, we were tainted even back then.   Sabo had met Ace not long after running away from his home, and Ace had been distant and cold at him at first—aggressive even. His first brother had suffered for the “sin” of being the late Pirate King's child, despised by most people even before they learned of his existence. Sabo, instead, had lived in a cage, unloved by his own parents and with his whole life already planned for him. And Luffy, despite his smiles and eyes always brimming with life, had had something dark buried in the depth of his heart, too.   Loneliness.   Sabo didn’t blame Dragon for cutting ties with his son, but Luffy had suffered because of it. Without a mother, without a father, and only a rude grandfather taking “care” of him sometimes. But then, the three of them had become brothers, and Luffy hadn't been alone anymore. Unrestrained, tears fell from Sabo’s eyes and flowed down his face, slightly warmer than his skin.   At least I’ll see you again soon, Ace.   Sabo reclined his head on his chest, feeling his life draining away.   Farewell…little brother.   After that last thought, the young revolutionary stopped fighting the torpor pervading him. Later that day, the brightest of flames died in the underground of Mary Geoise: far from the forests full of adventures, far from the ocean overflowing with dreams, far from the freedom-whispering wind. That same day, historians agreed, marked the start of the Revolution.

#opbingo2020 #sabo #onepiece #one piece #opfanfic #opfanfiction #oprevolutionaries #revolutionary army #blood tw #torture tw #death tw #long post #majoraop #(As usual feel free to comment and also point out typos or any error you may find! Any feedback would be really appreciated!) #queued

[redhawtriot]

Master List✨✨✨

This master-list is a directory (of sorts [look, I tried my best]) of the all of the stories/head canons posted on this page!

SFW=👌

NSFW =💞

Fluff=❤️

Angst=😭

Humor=😂

💞 😂  Endeavor Suga Baby Series: Oneshots and shit posts about being endeavors suga baby lol. (Enji Todoroki x Reader)

Part1 Part2 Part3

👌😂❤️ Crush Journal: How tododeku (separately) would confess to their crushes. a.k.a. Izuku takes notes on how to be the perfect SIMP (Deku x reader Todoroki x Reader)

👌❤️ Bunny: Read this if you have a thing for being called bunny (Todoroki x reader, Bakugou x reader)

👌😂❤️ Art and Oreos: How our two top students deal with having a civilian girlfriend (Bakugou x Reader, Todoroki x Reader)

👌😂❤️ Problem Child: After the cute stage every parent has to eventually deal with a shitty teen. BNHA characters as parents (Midoriya, Shinsou, Bakugou, Iida, Kirishima) 

😂 What up my name’s ‘Gerund’ I’m 19 and I never FUCKING learned how to read.  Lord, bless this mess (Kaminari x Reader) 

👌😂❤️ Koala: You don't want your bed to get cold a.k.a. Todoroki with a clingy ass significant other (Todoroki x Reader)

💞 😭 Nobody’s Hero: Ground Zero saves you from being mugged one night and can’t seem to let you go. Warning: slight non/con (Yandere Bakugou x Reader)

😭 Mirror Images: Warning: mentions of still birth. (Bakugou x Reader)

👌😂❤️ Missed Call form Blasthole: Your first time being invited to spend the night with your boyfriend (Bakugou x Reader)

👌😂❤️ Shinsou Shits: You and your husband, Bakugou, are tasked with babysitting the twin seeds of Satan (Bakugou x Reader ft.Mina x Shinsou)

👌😂 Wanna Win?: Kirishima asks for Bakugou’s help to find the words to tell you that he loves you, but things don’t exactly go according to plan... (Kirishima x Reader ft Kiribaku)

💕😂 Operation Unvirgin:  Bakugou never bothered with girls. He’s got too much shit to deal with; however, he finds himself in a world of cognitive dissonance when he hears that his rival is about to lose “it” before him. hWHAT? That loser is gonna beat him in something?! He thinks that FUCK NOT. (Bakugou x reader)

👌😂❤️ Whose Manz is this?!: You get a box of chocolates and a love note from a little broccoli head boy and let’s just say... it truly does take a village to raise a child. (’Izuku Midoriya being wing-manned by class 1-A’ x Reader)

👌❤️ Grey Area: You are beginning to feel a little jealous over Todoroki, but it shouldn’t matter because you're just friends... right? (Todoroki x Reader ft TodoMomo)

Valentines Weekend: Just random, unrelated short stories, headcanons and drabbles for all your loving needs. (BNHA x reader [Look. there is over 23 “x reader” pairings in this! I cant name each one])

Part 1: type (HCS) (👌😂❤️)

Part 2: food play (💞)

Part 3: Things my boyfriend has said to me (👌❤️😂)

👌😭 Two Birds on a Wire: Hawks unexpectedly finds himself falling for love with a villain during his time as a double agent. How will he handle having to betray the woman he loves? trilogy (Hawks x Reader feat. Shigaraki, Dabi, Twice, and minor OCs)

Part 1, 

💞😂❤️ Deprived: They fucked up and you take it upon yourself to teach them a lesson in the coldest way possible: putting your body on lock down. How the hell are they gonna survive? (Todoroki x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Midoriya x Reader, Iida x Reader)

👌❤️😂 Curly Hair Headcanons: (HCS) Let’s see how these boys do with a girlfriend who has curly hair... (Todoroki x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Kirishima x Reader)

👌❤️😂Plant Daddy: Bakugou with a significant other who is obsessed with plants-- fragile, defenseless plants… I am sure nothing will go wrong there. (Bakugou x Reader)

👌😭When Cheated On Part 1: Shinsou finds out that you have been cheating on him. (Shinsou x Reader)

👌😭When Cheated On Part 2: Bakugou finds out that you have been cheating on him. (Bakugou x Reader)

👌😂❤️Tinder Games: You like to play tinder for fun, and it is all fun in games until a certain someone swipes right for you… (Bakugou x Reader, Iida x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Midoriya x Reader, Kaminari x Reader, Kirishima x Reader)

👌😂❤️Drunk in Love: New Years Eve Special! Can any of these messes properly handle their liquor? Find out! (Bakugou x Reader, Midoriya x Reader, Yaoyorozu x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Kirishima x Reader, Shinsou x Reader)

👌😂❤️Bad Dreams Fluff n Stuff: You wake up from a bad dream crying and Bakugou has to unclog his emotional constipation to support you. (Bakugou x Reader)

👌😂❤️Holiday Edition: Christmas with your boyfriend’s family is always a spectacle… (Bakugou x Reader)

👌😂❤️Holiday Edition: This is the first time you met Kaminari’s family! You gave him one job to prepare for the event…. One job... smh… (Kaminari x Reader)

👌😂High school: (HCS) Gender neutral Reader is just tryna make it through a school day after Sero smoked them out (ft. Bakugou, Midoriya, Jirou, Iida, Aizawa, Kaminari, and Todoroki)

👌❤️😂 How to Stop Liking a Stoner: Bakugou can’t help but falling in love with your delinquent ass, but that doesn't mean he is gonna fall quietly without a fucking fight. (Bakugou x Reader)

👌😂Tectonic Plates and Platonic Dates: You and Kirishima are platonic buddies that secretly watch romantic comedies together. Everything is chill until your hot-headed twin brother finds out! (Kirishima x Reader ft. Bakugou, Kaminari, and Sero)

👌😂MHA Charecters as Candy: (HCS) What was that? What candy would these MHA characters be!? Wait... oh… You never asked? Oh okay… I guess I’ll just leave this here anyway… *sniff-sniffle*… (Bakugou, Midoriya, Kirishima, Kaminari, Mineta, Monoma, Yaoyorozu, Sero, Shinsou)

👌😭❤️The Same Side of Anything: Dabi is totally a Todoroki in this. Romeo and Juliet did it better probably, but I love the idea of star-crossed lovers. Read this if you’re into mediocre poetic themes.  (Dabi x Reader)

👌😂Crackhead Post: Reader regrets letting the three stooges into their life (ft. Kaminari, Sero and Kirishima)

👌😂 ❤️ Soft Dad Moments: What would prompt some of the MHA dads to buy their children a plushie? Warning: Some of these dads are so sweet that you might need to see a dentist after. (Bakugou x Reader, Kirishima x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Shigaraki x Reader)

💞 😭 Baby Boom: You end up prego after a one night stand and Bakugou learns how to be a decent human being (Bakugou x reader)

Month 1,  Month 2, Month 3, Month 4

Interactive Series (You voted on the outcomes):

💞😭 😂 ❤️Sole Mates: Your every day life as a business woman is rudely interrupted by an explosive hero’s name being painfully imprinted on the sole of your foot, bounding the two of you’s pain, emotions and thoughts. (Bakugou x Reader, past Izuku X Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

💞😭Caught in The Act: You find out that your fiancé cheated on you, your grandmother’s dresser is ruined, Kirishima is a precious gift from god, and… wait, when did Todoroki get so hot? (Bakugou x Reader ft Todoroki, Kirishima and a few minor OC’s)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,  Part 5 Finale

Sequel (just a lil writing experiment. pay no mind if you like the original ending): Part 1

Tsugi No Hero Academia: a Next gen AU me and my crackhead friends conjured up feat. Bakugou’s son as the MC 

#masterlist #whips with inhaler in hand #i finally did it #on my death bed

[thatesqcrush]

Soul Savin', Pt. 4

Rafael Barba x Reader. AN: Taking a lot of liberties and using a lot of prompts and part of a challenge here, specifically: @madpanda75‘s “from your smutty prompt list, can you please do “Friends don’t do this kind of shit!” where Barba and the reader go to a bar, have some tequila, then do some body shots” as well as @delia26′s “I turned out liking your a lot more than I originally planned.” Finally, using Jewel’s “Who Will Save Your Soul” as part of @thefanficfaeriebirthday challenge.

CW: language, some parts NSFW. Some dub-con, because they’re buzzed,angst, continued slow-burning. Flashbacks are indicated with italics.

AN: Please forgive any typos. Again, writing through grief is weird AF. I’m trying my best.

WC: 2600

--

Rafael signaled for the bartender.  Six shot glasses were lined up. You each lifted a shot glass. “For Sean,” you proudly exclaimed.

“For Y/N, the best detective and friend a man could ask for. Well done today.” Rafael returned. You gave him a toothy smile and clinked your glass with his.

“Otra vez.”

Rafael nodded and lifted his shot glass, and quickly tossed it back before tuning the glass upside down on the bar top.

You gave him a small head nod and did the same; you both repeated the same with the two remaining glasses. The endorphins from the honeytrap mixed with the buzz from the alcohol was making you feel warm; your inhibitions were starting to fade. You didn’t care for the consequences – all that mattered was that you wanted Rafael and were tired of keeping your feelings at bay. Desire was bubbling at the surface, ready to spill over like a pot of boiled liquid.

You made your decision. You asked the bartender for the bottle of tequila, salt and limes.

“What are we doing? Body shots?” Rafael laughed, his eyes crinkling.

“Yeah, what of it? Lets live a little,” you stated. “Have you ever done a body shot?”

Rafael didn’t immediately respond and you squealed with delight. “Oh, this is going to be fun!”

You reached over and grabbed Rafael’s hand and ran your tongue on the back of his hand, just below his index finger. Rafael’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched you pour the salt on his skin. You ran your tongue over the salty skin and then knocked the shot back. You grabbed a lime wedge and bit down, sucking on the lime juice. You gave Rafael a smile, with the lime wedge in your mouth before removing it, dissolving into a fit of giggles. “Your turn.”

Rafael let out a shaky breath. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. You unzipped the zipper of your very oversized sweatshirt slightly, and shimmied the material off slightly. You pushed your hair back  and tilted your neck, exposing your skin.

Rafael’s eyes darkened at your exposed skin. His mind flashed to earlier in the evening, as he watched you shake your shit all over the strip club, like you owned the place. His cock twitched again and he decided to give into his desire.

Rafael stood and took a step closer to you. He helped you stand up, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, bringing you closer. You were millimeters apart. His large hands were soft and warm and he gently tilted your head. Skin exposed, he lowered his face to your neck. Your skin, which was still covered in body glitter, smelled like warm vanilla. He quietly groaned before taking a long broad swipe along your neck. You moaned and it was euphoria in Rafael’s ears. He pulled back, shook the salt shaker onto your skin, and resumed his actions. You squirmed in Rafael’s embrace, biting your lip hard to prevent you from obscenely moaning. As Rafael sucked a mark into your neck, you gasped, “Friends don’t do this kind of shit!”

“Then I guess we were never friends,” Rafael husked in your ear, before pulling away to toss the shot back. Rafael slammed the glass down on the bar top. You grabbed Rafael’s face with your hands; his five o’clock shadow prickled your palms. On wobbly tip-toes you stood and pulled him into a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss was intense, all teeth and tongue clashing against one another, desperate and hungry. Finally, Rafael pulled away and you briefly whined at the lost connection. The dark look in his eyes sent an involuntary shiver up your spine.

“Let’s get out of here.” You requested.

“Are you sure?” Rafael asked. ‘Please say yes, please say yes.’

You stepped closer to him and placed a small kiss on the corner of his lips. “Yes guapo.”

Rafael let out a shaky breath. He hadn’t been called guapo by someone significant since Yelina and hearing you call him that made his heart skip a beat.

“If we want to get out of here, I have to pay the tab.” Rafael murmured returning your small kiss with a small kiss of his own. He signaled for the bartender.

“I’ll get us a cab.” You offered, nodding your head to the door. “I’ll see you outside.”

You shivered while you tried to hail a cab. It was warmer earlier, but it had cooled off substantially.  The city smelled like petrichor and the street glistened as it had rained earlier. Just as you were about to just give up and call an Uber, a yellow taxi-cab slowed down and pulled up.

You opened the door and poked your head in. “Just waiting on someone.” The driver nodded and you leaned against the side as you waited for Rafael.

Rafael burst out and looked frantically side to side, and you could feel the sigh of relief he exhaled as he noticed you. He quickly strode over and cupped your face with one hand. His other hand settled on your hip.  Wordlessly, he captured your lips with his once more. You let out a sigh as he sucked your bottom lip. The kiss continued for another five seconds before you were interrupted by the cab driver.

“Are you two getting in or am I wasting my fucking time?”

You both jumped and you felt your cheeks grow warm. “We’re coming – hold your damn your horses, Jesus fucking Christ!”

Rafael chuckled at your outburst. The driver huffed and Rafael rolled his eyes as he entered the cab after you. Rafael rattled off his address and you felt a mixture of relief and excitement to be going to his place, versus yours.

The streetlamps were a blur as the cab sped towards downtown. The entire ride was filled with the two of you kissing, desperate for each other’s touch.  You rubbed his thigh through his pants and Rafael nuzzled your neck. The heady scent of his cologne invigorated your senses. Rafael’s lips ghosted along your skin and your pussy throbbed against the confines of your jeans. You were already so aroused, and nothing had even started yet. Rafael couldn’t wait to show you how much he wanted you – to feel you. His pants felt tights and he was desperate to relieve the ache that had settled.

Music on the radio played quietly. If you had truly listened, you would have realized that “Who Will Save Your Soul” was playing.

Who will save your soul when it comes to the flowers now Who will save your soul after all the lies that you told, boy And who will save your souls if you won't save your own?

 The cab finally came to a stop. The cab driver barked at the two of you, causing you to both jump. Rafael apologized and handed the driver a large bill, well covering the ride plus tip and then some.

 “Mr. Barba, good evening. Welcome home. Ms. Y/N, lovely to see you again.” The doorman greeted.

 Rafael coughed slightly, trying to regain some composure. “Good evening Anthony.”

 You gave Anthony a small smile and wave, murmuring a hello; you allowed Rafael to grab your hand and let him lead you in.

 --

You both tumbled into his apartment. Lips still connected, Rafael used his leg to slam the door shut behind him. Hands were everywhere, desperate and eager to touch one another’s flesh.  One of Rafael’s hands slipped under the hem of your sweatshirt and traveled upwards. He was extra cautious with his movements, as he knew your side was bruised from being kicked earlier. As he made his way to a breast, he was pleasantly surprised to learn you were bra-less. His hand cupped and squeezed one globe, before moving onto the other. With his thumb and index fingers, Rafael rolled and tugged at your nipples, until they were hardened pebbles.

“Too many clothes.” You managed to say breathlessly in between kisses. Rafael nodded and pulled away. You were both breathless from your intense kissing session. You reached for the hem of your sweatshirt and flipped it over your head before moving your hands down to your jeans and unzipping them. You kicked off your shoes, before pushing your pants off. Rafael followed suit – shoes, shirt, then pants. Rafael’s gaze traveled over your body and lewdly, stroked himself through his boxers.

With a growl, Rafael was upon you once more, his lips crashing against yours. You whimpered as you opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter. As your tongues tangled, Rafael’s hands traveled to your thighs. He gave them a squeeze before lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he carried you towards his bedroom. You collapsed onto the bed, a tangled mess of limbs and Rafael rolled you, so he was on top. You hissed slightly, the pain from your ribs, were sobering to not just you, but to Rafael too.

Rafael propped himself up, his arms along side your head and he looked at you, his face full of concern.

“Y/N “ he began, his voice somber. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

You leaned up and pressed a hand onto his chest, pushing him off you. Rafael sat on his haunches while you sat up fully. “Wait – why? Don’t you want this?” After a pregnant pause, you continued, your voice low, near a whisper. “Don’t you want me?”

Rafael leaned over to press a gentle kiss on your lips and then rested his forehead against yours. “I do – believe me I do. But you’re hurt and we have both been drinking.”

You bit your lip and nodded slowly, feeling your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. “Okay. I’ll just get dressed and go.”

You began to move but an outstretched arm stopped you. You looked over your shoulder at him.

“Stay the night. Please.” Rafael implored, his eyes searching yours. You wanted to, so badly. Part of you hesitated to wonder if in the morning Rafael would still be interested or if this would be chalked up to a mistake of too much alcohol. You had a feeling the friendship was effectively ruined. But you were a consummate professional and even if your friendship was ruined, you would not let it get in the way of work.

“Y/N… please. Say something.”

Your eyes flickered past Rafael’s shoulder to the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was late and your buzz was starting to fade into exhaustion. You weren’t wild about really leaving at such a late hour, even if you were only a few blocks away. You agreed and internally decided to make sure to leave before Rafael woke up in the morning.

Rafael pulled you into a soft kiss. “I’ll get you something to wear.” The bed creaked as he stood and he made his way to his drawer, where he pulled out a pair of sweatpants, which he quickly slipped on. Rafael fussed a bit more, looking for something you to wear. He eventually produced his old Harvard Law t-shirt and gave it to you.

Rafael climbed back into bed and you snuggled on his chest where sleep befell you both.

--

The next morning you woke up to the smell of coffee and cinnamon. From a distance you could hear music in the background. You winced as you sat up. Sunlight pored into the bedroom through the curtain and you raised your arm over your head in an attempt to block the light. You looked to the left and noticed Rafael wasn’t in bed. You glanced at the clock – it was 9:15 A.M. You were appalled that you slept in and did not get to sneak out. At the corner of the bed were your clothes piled neatly.

“There’s my answer.” You mumbled to yourself. Your stomach growled and you made a mental note to grab something on the way home. You took off Rafael’s shirt and slipped your clothes back on. Your sweatshirt reeked of booze and you crinkled your nose in disgust.

“Just play cool – say Olivia called and you had to come in after all.” You told yourself. “Totally believable.”

“What’s believable?”

You jumped, startled. You turned around and found Rafael in the doorway, an amused look on his face. He stood shirtless, his sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. You felt your mouth go dry as you drank him in. You noticed one hand was balled in a fist and the other, held a glass of water.

“I – I – uh, good morning Rafael.”

“I figured you could use this – for the hangover and your ribs,” Rafael continued as he dropped two pills in your hand.  “I have coffee in the kitchen, and I was about to order some food.”

You mumbled your thanks and took the painkillers. Rafael watched you intently as you chugged your water. You wiped your mouth on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and thrust the glass back into this hand. “Thanks for letting me stay the night. I should go.”

“Look, I know last night wasn’t ideal.” Rafael protested, setting the glass down. “But I meant what I said. I want you. I turned out liking you a lot more than I originally planned.”

You cocked your head, studying his expression in a veiled attempt to eek out anything that would indicate what he was saying wasn’t truthful. “Come.” Rafael outstretched his hand and nodded his head towards the living room.

You took Rafael’s hand and allowed him to lead the way. “I should have done this that night you were here – when I invited you to hear my closing.” Rafael looked through his vinyl collection, quickly finding the record he was looking for. You instantly recognized the cover to the record as the one you chose. Rafael waited for the turntable platter to stop spinning before he gently removed it and returned it to its cover. Finally, Rafael set the new record to play and Moonlight began to play.

Rafael returned to you and took you into his arms. He caressed your face gently, pushing your hair away from your face. “I should have kissed you that night. And every night before then and every night after. I shouldn’t have waited.” Rafael lowered his face and brushed his lips against yours. You felt your heart swell at his proclamation and eagerly returned his kiss. His stubble prickled your skin and you lasciviously wondered what it would feel like in between your legs.

Your tongues gently rolled over one another’s as you each explored the caverns of your mouths. You moaned slightly and Rafael took the cue to deepen the kiss. Your hands ran up and down his defined arms, before running down to his sides. Rafael nipped your bottom lip and sucked it in between his teeth, causing you to moan.

Rafael moved back to your neck, focusing his ministrations on a particularly sensitive spot. You ran your hands into his hair and gripped tightly as he sucked a mark into your neck. You whimpered as he used the tip of his tongue to soothe the bruised spot.

“Still have to go?” Rafael asked breathless, his voice hopeful as he pulled away. He beamed inwardly with pride at the hickey that was beginning to develop.

You shook your head, smirking. “No.”

“Good. I want to have breakfast and I bet you’re just delicious.”

You laughed heartily at his comment and then squealed as he picked you up, hoisting you over his shoulder and leading you back to his bedroom.

TBC.

Tags:  @melsquared79 @madpanda75 @youreverycolor @tropes-and-tales @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoollike @fanficfaeriesrafaelbarbalibrary @theenchantedgalleryofstories @thefanficfaerie @trekinthruthestarwars @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty -anyone else, just ask, xo

#rafael barba smut #barba and reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #barba x reader #barba smut #svu fanfiction #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fanfiction #law and order svu fanfic

[ambersky0319]

A sequel idea to the prompt about Res kidnapping Logan! He's now the official local kidnapper as he takes Roman this time, using his own Imagination against him by keeping him in his own castle/fortress. The other Sides try to get in but it's too fortified so they call Remus, who only JUST heard that his brother was kidnapped. They may fight, but it's his brother. No one but him can mess with Roman ❤️💚 Please end it with a happy ending 😅

Pairings: Roman/Patton/Virgil (I don't remember the ship name) and background Loceit - note, no ship is in the spotlight for this

Warnings: Heavy Roman Angst, Embodiment of Repression, knives, torture, blood, injuries, deaths of dragons and guards, lmk if I need to add anything else!

Sidenote: This is mostly angst with like, a tiny bit of fluff at the end. I’ d still count it as a happy end 😅 ... You have been warned tho

Masterpost 

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

Res tilts his head, watching the prince in his slumber. He was surprised by just how easy it was to even capture him. Wasn't he supposed to be a hero, never being the one needing saving? Honestly, Res was a bit disappointed at how easy it was to snatch him away. No struggle, easy to knock out and disappear with. It was even less fun than kidnapping Logan! And no one even noticed Logan was gone until he had sent a note to Deceit!

It was also far too easy to control the prince's section of the Imagination. Just take Roman's sword. Res had assumed that's where Roman's ability had been since the prince always had the sword with him no matter what. But anyone being able to use it? Res hadn't expected that.

Also, Roman was so boring to watch. At least Logan had given him a surprise and woken up early. Roman had exceeded the time that he was supposed to be up by three hours.

Res glanced out the window, into the city beyond. About two dozen dragons were around the castle walls, having already been there when Res had arrived. Res had only made them a bit more... hostile, to any trespassers. And the city remained untouched by him. After all, Res didn't really care about them. Just the castle being fortified.

Which is why the guards were on high alert and created to keep anyone out at any cost. The moat around the prince's castle, originally containing a few dolphins to swim around, was now boiling, hot enough to burn with even a few drops.

There were some more traps inside the castle, some that Roman had already put there for his own protection against his brother. Res didn't bother to look too closely at them.

Res perked up when he heard a small groan, whipping around to face the side currently tied to a chair in chains. The chains were melded together instead of combined with any locks. Mostly so Res could watch as Roman made a futile attempt to struggle.

"Aw, aren't you cute, thinking you can just worm your way out of them?" Res cooed, approaching the side. He watched as Roman was hit with a realization that he couldn't just magic his way out of his restraints.

"Where's-"

"Your sword?" Res gestured to where the sword was, resting against the wall so Res could easily access it but also so Roman had a clear view. "Pretty idiotic to put all control of your kingdom in it, Prince." Res tilted his head, returning his gaze to Roman. "Then again, you were never the brains of Creativity."

Res walked closer to Roman and leaned into the prince's face. He pulled his scarf down to reveal his grin to Roman, before reaching out and gingerly touching Roman's cheek.

Roman flinched away from him, and Res clicked his tongue. "Aren't you such a pretty prince. But as part of our Host's ego... So fragile. I wonder how long it would take, to bring all those insecurities up. Five, ten minutes?"

Roman felt the chains tighten around his hands and feet as he continued to struggle, and it hurt. His eyes widened as pain flooded his wrists and ankles, the chains squeezing. It stopped as soon as Roman stopped struggling, but they remained tight, leaving Roman's bones aching softly.

"But that's not what's gonna be the most fun." Res stated as a knife fizzled into existence in his hand. Res removed his scarf with his free hand, discarding the garment so he wouldn't get any blood on it. "Do you want to know what'll be more fun than watching you sob over every insecurity you have proved to be correct?"

Res used the knife to tilt Roman's chin up, raising a brow and waiting for Roman to answer. Roman clenched his jaw, mouth remaining shut. After a few more beats of silence - though all Roman could hear was his heart racing - Res decided to answer his own question.

"It's going to be watching you experience true pain for the first time. It's going to be thrilling, right, Roman?"

As Res hissed out Roman's name, Roman's chest began to ache horribly and it forced a whimper from Roman. Doubt and fear and guilt and loneliness clouded his mind all at once and his heart felt heavy, as though someone had lodged a rock in its place.

The overwhelming feelings drowned out the pain from the knife, suddenly slicing at Roman's collarbone.

-

The others had barely noticed Roman was gone until Virgil had mentioned it being quieter than usual. Remus was doing something in his little area of the Imagination, and wouldn't be around for awhile. That everyone knew. But normally Roman would fill the silence in his brother's absence.

He wasn't in his room, either. Patton had checked.

"The Imagination?" Deceit guessed. "I thought he had wanted to spend time with you and Virgil all day, though."

Logan frowned from where he lay curled up in Deceit's side. "You're not suggesting something happened to him?"

"Since when does Roman miss perfect days to cook and cuddle with his boyfriends?" Deceit asked instead, raising a brow. Logan bit his lip.

Virgil set his phone down. "I've gotta agree with Dee. Roman would've told us if he was planning on spending the day in the Imagination."

Patton set down whatever he was doing in the kitchen, wiping his hands off on a towel before entering the living room. "We can always go check. Roman did say we were always welcome!"

Deceit stretched. "I'm down."

Logan sat up, fixing his glasses as he nodded. "Let's just hope that it's nothing but a sudden burst of inspiration."

"You say that like you're thinking it's not."

"Need I remind you the last time one of us disappeared without a word, it was because some side captured them and practically tortured them? Or shall I show the faint scars to prove it." Logan's voice was sharp as he sent a light glare Virgil's way. Virgil flinched.

"Right. My bad."

Deceit took Logan's hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I doubt Res got out again. But if he did, I can always cast him back to the Subconscious. With Virgil's help, if he can."

"I would gladly," Virgil said, getting off the couch. "Now, let's go check up on our resident royal."

Let's just say, things didn't go as smoothly as they had all hoped.

Res looked out the window when he heard the dragons, and his grin widened when he saw a few taking flight. "Well, would you look at that!" He leaned forward just a bit more. "They do care for you, just enough to come try and find you after a day. I was wrong, they do like you more than Logic."

Res waved his hand as Roman whimpered. His skin was coated in large amounts of blood, the wounds only stinging more as Res had summoned salt to drizzle into each and every cut. Tears had long since stopped falling down Roman's cheeks, and his mind felt numb. The flashes of hot pain from the bones in his wrists and ankles had stopped after Roman had tried once again to get free, effectively breaking all four of the areas chained.

The chains on his torso had been shifted so Res had better access to more of Roman's flesh, and he marked Roman with each word Roman believed he was. Correction, every negative word Roman was.

"Wonder if the others can even get past the dragons." Res gasped. "Oh! It would be wonderful if Morality was tossed into the moat! Seeing his skin blistering... I doubt the Imagination would just let him die, so he'd be in agony for a long while."

Roman squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't- don't hurt them, p-please," Roman wanted to scream, but his throat felt like it was ripped to shreds and it took so much energy to even croak out that little sentence. "Please, Res-"

"Oh, I'm not the one causing them to be hurt. The dragons are your creations, after all, Roman. I merely gave them... motivation. Their abilities were made with your own hands, so if Anxiety gets a bit scorched or Deceit a bit cut up... Truly your own fault for having dragons as security in the first place."

Res cackled as he left the window, returning to Roman. He tilted his head, bringing a bloodied hand to his chin and humming absentmindedly. Roman wasn't hyperventilating anymore, though his breathing was still shallow as the blood dripped off Roman and onto the floor. Res was glad that the Imagination refused to let Roman die.

"Not gonna fall asleep on me, are you Roman?" Res asked, a light tone to his voice as Roman glared at him halfheartedly. Anytime Res said his name, feeling came flooding back and it made it hard for Roman to breathe or even think at all.

"Good. Though, I think I need to do more. Gotta make sure you're no longer the resident pretty boy. Maybe even get Morality and Anxiety to gag at how you look." Res laughed, picking the knife back up off the floor. He made it dull, and he drove it into Roman's shoulder, earning him a quiet cry. "They'll flinch anytime they even see you, knowing how useless they were in saving you and how pathetic you were in being unable to get free yourself."

The roaring outside from the dragons quieted, and Res dragged the knife down Roman's chest and circled over Roman's heart. He didn't cut deeply, just enough to get the blood to ooze out and slide down Roman's torso. More tears arose in Roman's eyes and started to slip down his cheeks again, just causing more pain as they fell onto open cuts along his chest.

Res waited a moment, before leaning in close to Roman's ear. "Guess they didn't love you as much as they said, huh?"

Even Roman felt the others' leaving the Imagination, and that alone tore another cry up Roman's throat as he bowed his head in defeat.

-

Remus had finished making himself a snack when the Imagination door opened, and he looked over to it when he heard loud panting and swears. His eyes widened as the others came practically falling out from the fantasy land, out of breath and bloodied.

Wait, bloodied?

"Oh my God." Remus ditched his food and rushed over, the Imagination door slamming closed. "What the fuck happened?!"

Deceit seemed the least injured as he shoved Virgil and Patton into Remus's arms. Both flinched at the contact. "Just heal them, Rem, please." Deceit's voice was strained. It left no room for arguing. Remus frowned but nodded, hastily getting Virgil and Patton to follow him to the couch, and he set to work without asking anything.

Logan and Deceit tended to one another, luckily neither as hurt as Patton or Virgil. Remus was able to heal them up in almost an hour, the mindscape filled with nothing but silence and the occasional whimper.

And Remus didn't miss that his brother was nowhere.

Deceit had fallen asleep after Logan finished bandaging his last wound, as did Virgil and Patton. All three still looked stress even in their sleep. Logan remained awake with Remus, and Remus stared at him intensely.

"What happened, Lo? Because I know this didn't happen on my side of the Imagination!"

Logan swallowed, picking at an old scar on his wrist. "We, um. We went to Roman's castle, to see if he was there. Because we couldn't find him. But, it was heavily guarded. By dragons. They were so hostile, but they've never been like that before and something's wrong, Remus. There's something wrong."

Remus blinked, processing it. Hostile dragons? That didn't sound like Roman, but it did sound like-

"Oh, Res is going to suffer!" Remus bolted from his seat, summoning his morning star. Hope had said something had shifted on Roman's side, but he didn't think it was that kind of shift, but the orange border preventing Remus from entering, it made sense.

Logan caught Remus's arm. "You can't go there alone!"

Remus shrugged Logan off. "I can, and I will! I'm stronger than all of you in there, and besides!" Remus grinned, tilting his head with a sickening crack. "Res has messed with the wrong side of Creativity!"

Logan couldn't grab him quick enough to stop Remus from jumping into the Imagination, and Logan didn't have the energy to race after him either. Instead, Logan collapsed on the couch beside Deceit and hoped Remus would be alright.

-

Remus took a deep breath as the last dragon was sent hurtling towards the bubbling moat. He felt a bit bad, the creatures didn't do anything to deserve that fate. And Remus knew so as they almost seemed to scream in agony as they boiled alive.

"Okay, which tower?" Remus huffed as he started up at the castle. The guards had also been taken care of, knocked away or burned by the dragons in the confusion of trying to get to Remus. So all that left was trying to actually find Roman.

He could feel Res's power from this distance, the familiar feeling of everything and nothing as Res forced feelings to the surface. Remus nearly swore under his breath, his grip tightening on his morning star. He was going to clobber Res if it was the last thing he ever did.

The silence helped. The Imagination was eerily quiet, not even a single breeze drifted by. But it still wasn't enough for Remus to hear Res's loud, triumphant laughs. Growling in frustration, Remus charged into the castle.

It took Remus longer than he should've to find the right tower, hear the cruel laugh from a particular side. It made Remus grind his teeth that Res had turned Roman's castle into a shifting maze, though he supposed it was a tactic Res used. He ran up the stairs, the taunting voice of Res only growing louder and louder.

Remus knocked the guard standing in the doorway down the stairwell with his already bloodied weapon, and he broke the door down, I'm bothered by it's splintering. Res jumped as Remus cane rushing in, breathing heavily and a crazed look in his eye.

Meeting Remus's eyes, Res knew he was absolutely fucked if he didn't leave right then. Before Remus could even raise his morning star again, Res snapped his fingers and disappeared, presumably to his room back in the Subconscious.

Remus almost tried to follow him, too, his blood still pumping and anger still boiling just as hot as the moat. What stopped him though was seeing all the crimson on a certain princely side.

Remus's morning star clattered to the ground as he rushed in front of Roman. "Oh, fuck- Roman, please, tell me you're not dead, oh God, please." Remus received a small groan from Roman, and Remus felt momentarily relieved.

"I'm going to get you out of here, alright? You're going to be fine, Ro."

Remus set to work at undoing the chains, cringing at the awkward way Roman's limbs were angled. The bones were clearly broken, a few might even be shattered. Remus let Roman fall into him once he undid the last set of chains, catching his twin and holding him close despite Roman's whimpers.

"I'm going to take you to your room, okay?" Roman nodded just barely before he finally lost consciousness. Remus sank out soon after.

-

Everything hurt. Not terribly. But Roman ached all over. He couldn't remember much, well, aside from lots of orange and silver and red in his vision. And pain. Lots and lots of pain.

He groaned softly, opening his eyes. He was on something soft, and wasn't constricted anymore. Not by chains, at least. The blanket that rested on top of him was fluffy and warm against his skin compared to the metal. And it was dry, not sticky with layers of blood.

Roman's door open, and it was draining to even tilt his head. He squinted when he saw Remus carrying some water on a try, setting it on Roman's nightstand. Remus then moved the blanket, barely even noticing Roman had woken up until Roman had tried getting his attention.

"Remus?"

He felt like he was clawing his own throat as he spoke, and Remus appeared startled as he looked down at Roman. He gasped as he was met with Roman's brown eyes.

"Here! This'll help, sit up carefully though. I did my best to heal you, but you were always better at that than me." Remus held the glass of water to Roman's lips, and Roman did as told. His bones felt like they were on fire from the action, and he winced. "Sorry," Remus mumbled, before helping Roman actually drink the water.

"Your left wrist is still broken... I was too exhausted to heal it, after healing the rest of you and your boyfriends. Oh! They'll be so glad you're awake! Patton and Virgil were so worried and-"

Remus was cut off as Roman lurched forward, enveloping Remus in a hug. Despite his body feeling as though he had taken a tumble down a cliff, Roman hugged Remus tighter. He buried his face in Remus's neck, feeling his eyes water. He remembered hearing Remus, right before he blacked out. And it made sense, that Remus was there. Only Remus could scare off Res.

"Thank you," Roman croaked, starting to tremble slightly. "Thank you, Rem. Thank you."

Remus wrapped his arms gingerly around Roman, pressing a kiss to Roman's temple. "You're safe now, Ro."

Roman cried as he nodded, pressing closer to Remus.

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

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[mayve-hems]

New Perspective | Dad!Calum

Type: IMAGINE | ONE SHOT | MULTI CHAPTER

Summary: After leaving for four years, Calum returns back to his friends and he has a big surprise: he has a three-year-old daughter, but he refuses to admit it. Until, he falls in love with his little girl, and learns he can’t live without her and her sassy mom either.

Word Count: 15.0k

Note: If you would like to request a one-shot / imagine / story prompt / blurb / HC then I am accepting requests currently and I would love to take them! 

Warnings: Calum is honestly kind of a dick in the beginning and Eve just doesn’t wear a shirt sometimes

Moodboard

-

“As’in” Melody slurred, stomping her left, light-up Sketcher on top of the eye-level stool in front of Ashton. Ashton flinched from the loud noise, scooting back on the kitchen floor just a smidge. “Cooler ‘an you.”

“Of course you are, Mel,” smiled Ashton. He dug his ring-clad fingers gently into Melody’s sides. The brown-haired girl, with one foot on a step stool and the other, bare, foot holding her balance upon the floor burst into a fit of giggles. Laughing with her shoulders digging into her ears and arms struggling to get Ashton to release his grip. “Who said you could wear my dinosaur pajamas?”

“Mine, you - you jerk!” Melody stuttered. Her Uncle Luke stuck his hands underneath her arms and pulled her body from the ground. “Hey!”

“I was saving you from the tickles,” said Luke. “I could put-”

“No!” screamed Melody. She stuck the foot with a shoe on into Ashton’s face. “Off.” She commanded. Ashton rolled his eyes and unstrapped the velcro.

“Was dance practice fun?” Luke asked, pulling his niece’s whole body away from the shoe. With Ashton’s hand holding onto the rubbery bottom, it slid off easily. Melody nodded her head and struggled up the too large countertop. “Did you learn anything?”

Melody gained her stability and stood up straight. With high countertops, she seems to be an inch taller than Luke. “I can do a roll!” Melody stuck her hands straight in the air, preparing for a somersault.

Luke, Ashton, Calum, and Michael had been planning to build a house together since they were in grade school. A custom-built one with five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a Gameroom, an upstairs and a downstairs living room, a large kitchen, and a workout room built into a large shed just outside of the house, and a fully furnished, soundproof basement. Evita “Eve” Sanchez, a girl with luscious long black curls and dark freckles became their best friend and included on their house plans too. Only, Calum didn’t officially go through with the agreed plans and left the state after paying his part of the house, before it was finished.

“No!” Luke yelled, catching Melody before she started a somersault off the counter. “Let’s not do that. I don’t want Mommy to get mad at me.”

Calum’s bedroom was finished, and several arguments ensued between Michael and Eve over whether or not Melody’s nursery should’ve taken over her fathers’ room. Michael got his way, and Eve didn’t turn the barely-furnished room into a nursery. She bit her tongue every time she passed the empty room.

“Did you feed all of your animals, Mel?” Ashton asked, standing up from the floor. Melody gave him a single, hard nod. “Both dogs and your cat?” Melody nodded again. “Your ferrets and your lizard?”

“Mommy fed Norber’!”

“So Norbert was the only animal Mommy fed? If I go ask-”

“-Well . . . Phin and Ferb too.”

“That’s it? Norbert, Phineas, and Ferb?”

Melody bowed her head in shame. “Well . . .”

“If you don’t start feeding your mass abundance of pets, Mel, you know Mommy will get rid of them!” lied Luke. Melody, just like her father, has taken a liking for pets of all kinds. Melody isn’t allowed at the pet store very often because she’ll convince somebody into getting a new animal - lately, she’s been adding to the downstairs aquarium. “How about you give your ferrets some treats, and make sure Norbert has water?”

“Yes, Uncle, Lu’,” Melody sighed. Luke put her on her feet and pushed her towards the living room. She walked from the counter, towards Norbert The Leopard Gecko. Her favorite pets have to be Phineas and Ferb, twin ferrets. Their large cage sits in the downstairs living room for everyone to play with. Originally, Melody wanted their cage in her shared bedroom. Eve quickly said no.

“You aren’t supposed to tell a kid things like that, Hemmings,” a familiar voice said. Luke turned around from watching Melody. The blond didn’t want to believe who was standing in his kitchen, with arms crossed over his chest and a smirk like he’s the fucking leader. “Especially an animal lover like her. She’s got a heart like her daddy’s right? Dog lover and names on Petunia?”

“You think-” Luke started, flabbergasted at Calum’s accusations.

“-Don’t,” Ashton groaned. He faced the intruder that ran away only four years before. “What are you doing here?”

Calum let out a loud breath. “It’s my house too, right? Unless my bedroom was turned into a playground for - what’s her name? Melody?” His black combat boots his loudly, approaching Ashton and Luke quickly. His finger drug itself along the countertop then led a journey to his eyes. At least the house was clean. “So, who’s the mom?”

“Excuse me?” asked Luke.

“The kid - who’s her mom? Is it Evita? I bet you ten bucks y’all fucked and-”

“-Obviously she’s Eve, dumbass,” Luke bit down on his lip. He didn’t know if it was his right to inform Calum that - Guess what! - he had a kid after escaping the state.

“Never thought you’d get with her,” Calum flashed a look of betrayal on his gorgeous face. “What about the Bro Code?”

“I didn’t get with Eve-”

A loud cry cut off Luke’s explanation. He flipped around to see a chair collapsed on the ground, and Melody clutching her right arm close to her body. Luke and Ashton quickly bolted to their niece to see what happened.

“Help!” Melody screamed through tears. Michael and Eve joined Luke and Ashton within moments. Eve, just barely out of the shower, sat her daughter on top of her fluffy robe and asked what was wrong. “Hurts,” Melody cried and pointed toward her dominant hand.

“What happened?” asked Eve. Calum peered through the doorway at the cluster of adults servicing a three-year-old alien activist and Disney lover. Surprise overtook Calum when he watched how Eve messed with Melody’s arm. Within four years, Eve’s hair seemed to have darkened from chocolate brown to jet black and pink still wasn’t her color. Calum made out dark ink all along exposed skin.

“Norber’ want water,” Melody started before letting out a loud wail when Eve attempted to straighten Melody’s arm. “I want to give him ‘dat bottle, an’ I fell!”

“Luke, can you get her shoes on? I’ll put some clothes on and take her to the hospital.” Eve sighed. Calum was surprised at how sure she sounded, not hesitating to be stern in a time of need. Eve’s older sister broke her hand, and Eve completely freaked out and fainted on Calum. That wasn’t an enjoyable experience for him. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Michael swept the small girl off the floor, giving affirmations that she’d be okay. He set her down on the counter and handed her mother his own jacket after she’d ran down the stairs in just a hoodie and a bra. “We have a visitor.” Michael griped, clenching his jaw hard. “What do we do?”

Eve looked at Calum watching Luke put Eve’s shoes back on. He seemed uncomfortable. “Fuck it, my kid just broke her arm and I couldn’t care less about him.” Eve wrapped Melody’s favorite blanket around her shoulders and picked her back up. “Calum, your daughter just broke her arm, want to come to the hospital with us?”

“Wh-what?” Calum sputtered. He shook his head, trying to hide his bulging, scared eyes.

-

“Where’s Michael?” Calum asked as he took a journey through the kitchen. He stopped behind the girl with a bright blue cast, chewing something that looked like a lazy attempt at pizza. He grimaced.

“Guitar!” Melody said before taking another bite. Tortilla, pizza sauce, and cheese piled together and microwaved on high for a single minute- that’s Melody and Michael’s favorite meals. Besides chicken strips, of course.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That means he’s in the basement practicing with the guys,” explained Eve. She barely looked up from her load of dishes at her confused face. “What? Can’t she explain where they are?”

Calum looked disgusted. “Why can’t she just say they’re in the basement? Is she delayed?”

“She’s three, give her a fucking break before I break you,” Eve shoved a plate into the dishwasher and finally looked up at Calum. She couldn’t help that he still looked hot; messy curls, tan skin, and bright brown eyes. It was destined that Melody is the cutest kid in the world.

“What is she even eating?”

“Lunch.”

“That is not a meal,” said Calum. “That’s something you feed a child that won’t eat anything besides chicken strips and pizza.”

Eve locked eyes with Calum. Staring straight into his ripped soul. “Exactly.”

Calum scratched the side of his head with the tip of his middle finger. “Can you lead me to the basement?”

Eve smirked. “You should know the house, Cal,” she laughed. “You helped design it. Oh, wait, you-”

“-Yes!” Calum screamed. “I get it! I left! Just . . . fucking lead me to the basement please.”

“Fine,” Eve picked Melody up from the enjoyment of cheap pizza. Melody protested a little bit, but the pain in her arm came ‘round and she stopped. “Wanna’ give Uncle Mike some pizza?” Melody nodded her head and grabbed the plate with her good hand. “Let’s go/”

Melody, Eve, and Calum rounded the corner toward the back door and walked through the laundry room to find basement steps. With Melody on her his, and Calum sadly right behind her, Eve descended down the steps. Michael looked up from his controller and took the plate from Melody and shoved it into Luke’s chest, then took Melody in his arms.

“How’s the hand, Mel?” asked Michael. He kissed the big ‘CLIFFORD’ signature underneath her wrist.

“Hurts.”

“Well, of course, it’s going to hurt, you fell off a chair,” Melody scowled at her uncle. “What’re you guys doing down here?” he asked, dismissing Melody’s continuous sass. He placed her back on the floor.

“Just seeing what the house looks like,” Calum said, looking around the furnished basement. It’s large; larger than he’d remembered. There’s a bathroom behind the wooden staircase, a man cave to the left and a room with tons of band equipment to the right inside of a soundproof studio. Just in front of the stairs was Melody’s playroom. Calum had never seen so much pink. “Pretty nice. How do you guys pay for all of this?”

“Jobs, Cal,” Luke snapped. The youngest of the adults rolled his eyes. “Are you going to get one?” 

“Wait, you guys have jobs? Why aren’t you working right now?”

“I’m a YouTuber,” Michael pointed to a section of the playroom with a backdrop and a nice camera, along with a gaming computer. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to.”

“Bet the rest of you don’t have jobs like that,” Calum shrugged, pointing to the rest of them. Melody already escaped to her dolls and barbies. “Probably mooch off all his money like the lowlifes you are.”

“Actually,” Luke snapped again. “I’m a teacher, and Eve is a tattoo artist.” Calum’s eyes went wide. Eve began to show off her ink to Calum. One really intrigued him; a feather on her left arm that dissolved into tiny fragments that formed ‘MELODY ANN’ on Eve’s wrist. There seems to be enough space for more children too. “Ashton works at KFC.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Calum pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Nah, dude, I’m a museum tour guide,” replied Ashton.

Calum snorted. “Nice one.”

“I’m serious.”

 “Bone library, huh?” Calum laughed at his joke. His fingers reached for little toes right underneath Eve’s eat, tattooed in a seemingly-painful way. “What’s what one?” Eve pulled her shirt up just a little bit to reveal the tattoo she sat hours for. The design was as if Melody walked from the front of Eve’s left hip bone, to her back, up to Eve’s right shoulder blade and ended with Melody’s footprint right behind Eve’s ear. Though, she only had the right foot, as if she were waiting for another child to come along and step on her. “Are those actual feet? Like prints from when Melody was born?”

“Taken right from her birth certificate,”

Calum wanted to undress Eve and analyze all the ink beneath her skin. He wanted to know the story behind the entire canvas she’d printed on her back, sternum, legs, and arms. It would take a couple of hours to learn about three years' worth of tattoos. When Calum left, she had a single tattoo of five tally marks on her finger. Each mark was dedicated to her friend group.

“You think I could get a job? Who’s the owner of the shop?” Calum asked. Eve pulled her shirt back down and laughed loudly. “What?”

“I’m the owner, asshole,” said Eve. “You can’t even draw a stick figure. Unless you’re buying, don’t come to my shop.”

“You’re a bitch,”

“I know,”

“Cut the shit, what are you doing here?” Michael asked when Eve and Ashton walked away to play with Melody. Calum ruffles the front of Michael’s blue hair. “Seriously. Why did you just randomly show up?”

“Did some stupid things,” Calum laughed. “Turns out sometimes you have to pay to perform. Dropped out of high school, so music is all I got.”

“Then what are you going to do for a job?” Luke asked, stepping up close to Calum. Michael and Luke were trying to intimidate him, make him see how stupid he is for leaving everything behind one day, leave without a warning, and show up randomly. He’ll never get off scot-free while living with them. “We’ve got people to support. A house to live in. You’re going to have to pay bills.” 

 “You’re joking,” Calum chuckled. Luke and Michael didn’t break their stares off the man. “I don’t have a way to get a job. I’m not good at anything. Can’t I just watch Eve’s kid and be okay?”

“You don’t get paid for watching your own child,” Michael replied in a low voice. “I don’t care if you helped design the place. It’s time to pay bills.”

Calum locked eyes with Michael. “She’s not my kid.” He pulled the curls falling into his eyes back and combed through the dark locks with his fingers. Their intimidation wasn’t working on him. “Guess I’ll have to get a job. Ain’t got nowhere else to go.”

-

Calum shivered underneath the orange tip of a washable marker. Its cold sensation ent socks through his arms, resulting in goosebumps and for Melody to color outside of the tattoo lines. He looked down where Melody sighed and takes in the sight; Melody, with eyebrows scrunched up and her little tongue poking through her teeth, and a marker sitting between her fingers. She was very focused.

Calum notices that their hair curls the same way, and their hair color is the same shade. He catches a curl, twirling it around his digits. A knot sticks around Calum’s finger, catching skinny strands along one of his rings.

Melody yipped. “Hey!” she whined, pulling her head far away from Calum. She rubbed the spot Calum assaulted and acted as if she were to cry. Melody’s dark lip begins to quiver and she burst into a fit of sobs. “Mommy!”

Eve ran into the kitchen, halfway through braiding her hair back for work. “What’s going on?” Eve asked, staring straight at Calum. Quickly, Eve wraps her arms around Melody. Melody laid her head against Eve’s chest. “What’s wrong baby?”

Calum looked down at his hands. “I was messing with her, and I accidentally pulled her hair a little bit,” he answered. Melody continued to cry. “I . . . I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Eve answered for Melody. Melody calmed her loud fries and looked back at her father. “It was just an accident. Can you tell him that you’re alright?”

Melody shook her head. “Not ‘right-”

“-Melody Ann, you are perfectly fine. Can you tell him that?”

Melody shook her head again. “Go to work with no?” Eve shook her head as a reply. One occasion, just a few months before Calum showed up, Melody walked into Eve’s tattooing shop for her birthday and got her very own Crayola tattoo of a sunflower on her right thigh. Since that day, she’d used all efforts to get another. “Pwease?”

As they say, you get addicted to the feeling of tattoos.

“I thought you wanted Calum to watch you?”

Melody had requested that ‘Uncle Calum’ put her to bed while Eve was working. Calum disagreed, argued with Eve about how Melody isn’t his kid and Eve needs to find her own babysitter. Calum continued to argue with Eve until Melody’s big brown eyes looked up at his, and she held a handful of markers underneath his nose. She sat next to him on the counter and asked if they could play tattoos. Calum was confused until she began to color in Mali Koa’s bird.

“No!” Melody screamed. “Hurt me!”

“Mel,” Calum whispered. He felt terrible. “It was just an accident.” He’d never had such a feeling of guilt, even the day he ran from New Jersey to New York on the small promise of a successful music career. He’d been promised by an agency that if he left New Jersey, he’d have a good life filled with wealth and fame, as long as he left home quick. His parents told him if he left, to never come back. “I’ll never do it again. I promise.”

“Promise?” Melody stuck her pinky out for Calum to wrap with his own. Calum gave her a stern nod and hooked their fingers together. “Good Uncle Cal.”

Eve’s face dropped. Uncle? Eve wants to break all habits Melody developed around Calum. Telling people he’s her uncle, even calling him Uncle Calum. Eve wants to tell Melody to call him an asshole, a fucking jerk, a liar, and most importantly, Dad. Calum was only comfortable with Uncle Calum. Eve turned around when he’d said that the day after Melody broke her arm, told Calum to ‘choke on her dick’ and stomped away.

“Face masks?” Melody asked, forgetting she’d just been crying. She drug her pointer finger along her face in areas you’d put on a face mask. “Yes?”

“I’m not doing a face mask,” stated Calum. “Never.”

“Liar,” Eve snorted. “You did them with me all the time when we were teenagers.”

“We did a lot of stupid things when we were teenagers, Eve. I’m not doing face masks.”

“Did I just hear Calum reference how bad he is at sex and facemasks?” Luke called, walking through the laundry room. He offered up his arms for Melody to enter and had a pouncing three-year-old in his arms. She thwacked the side of his face with her cast. “Ouch. Jeez.”

Melody got close to Luke’s ear to whisper. “What’s sex?” she asked. Luke looked towards Calum and Eve for an answer but Calum hid his face. Tiny fingers pointed at the pair. “Sex.”

“Well, tech-”

“-Hemmings!” Eve interrupted. Luke’s face flashed terror of the five-foot-nothing girl. “You want to do a face mask with Uncle Lu?”

“Blue one!”

Luke stared down at the floor. The last time Melody, Luke, Michael, and Ashton had done the blue face masks - Melody’s favorite color - they all ended up with blue splotches spread on their faces for a few days afterward. Luke refused to show his bare face in public and stole a whole bottle of Eve’s dark foundation just be able to go to work. Michael slathered his face in blue paint for a YouTube video and played Fortnite. Their lives are very different.

However much Luke wanted to please Melody, he doesn’t want to wear foundation several shades too dark for his complexion. He took his phone out and texted Michael to grab Eve’s golden mask out of his bedroom. He may have stolen it from her. She’ll never know.

“I’m not putting that shit on my face, Eve,” whined Calum.

“You don’t have to,” Luke smiled. “You can leave, or go to your room, or do something that’s not bothering us.”

“You’re seriously just doing face masks?”

Luke smiled a little bit wider. “We let Mel pick out a movie she’d like to see,”

“I can do that, just not face masks,”

“It’s an all or nothing package, bro,”

Calum offered Luke a very disgusted look. “Fuck that.” He hauled himself off the countertop to stand. “Have fun being a girl, Luke. Let me know how the gender reassignment surgery goes.” Luke bit his tongue to not have a witty comeback filled with several choice words.

“Lil’ Sanchez!” Michael called from the staircase. Melody almost fell from Luke’s arms to see Michael. “Heard you wanted the good kush!”

“Michael!” Eve drew out, ready to fight everyone. Luke and Calum constantly arguing, Calum being an asshole, and Michael teaching Melody words he shouldn’t be. Ashton is the only one she can stand.

“Sup dude!” Melody held out her fist and Michael bumped it softly. “Good stuff.”

“Which one do you want, kid?” Michael held up a grey tube he’d also stolen from Eve. The front of it read Clay Mask, but Michael couldn’t stand the scent of the paste. It was too late to give it back to Eve without her noticing. In his opposite hand, he showed off a round tube of golden gel. “Good smelling stuff or Luke’s knockoffs?”

“Blue.” Melody stated.

“Good stuff or knockoffs?”

“Blue.”

They were in for a long argument against a three-year-old.

-

Calum was surprised he didn’t see Eve quickly, inside of her tattoo parlor. He thought the name of a shop would have something to do with Melody, but he’d about had a heart attack when the large neon sign read ‘FIVE SECONDS OF SUMMER TATTOOING’. He walked in immediately and requested the first appointment they had open.

“Man, our artists are busy for the night. You’ll have to find somewhere else,” Jason, Eve’s apprentice, said looking over the schedules for each artist. Except for Eve. All four basic artists were booked with large projects for the night drunks and fucked up stoners. Eve had space next to her name, though, twenty minutes into the future.

“Why can’t Eve do it?” Calum questioned, pointing over the counter at Eve’s full first name written in fancy cursive. He wasn’t used to seeing it written so perfectly. Usually, she writes ‘Eve’ with a light hand and lowercase letters.

“Evita? Man, she’s real good and doesn’t do most people.” Jason shook his head. He looked tired, tripping balls, or just done with Calum. “You have to get special approval from her. She doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit.”

“Ask her then,”

“What? Man, no. She won’t listen to me. How would I even ask?”

“Well, first you walk up to her and say ‘Eve, you’ve got a customer that’ll take your shitty tattoos and will pay fucking cash and a tip. Now tattoo him.’ It’s easy.”

“I think if I say that to her, I’ll be fired,”

Calum sighed and ran a hand through his dark curls. One caught on his ring and pulled like he’d done to Melody just hours early. He thought to himself how weird it was they had the same curls, hair color, and facial features. “Just get Eve.”

“I don’t-”

“-Do it and I’ll tip you.”

Jason turned around in the uncomfortable spinning chair and stood up. 5 Seconds Of Summer tattooing took over an old tattoo shop and a bar, erasing of all the alcohol and vomit stains on the floor and disposing of all barstools and tables. Eve put in a couple of couches in the front of the shop for people that waited, had a bathroom on both sides of the shop, and turned the bar portion into a piercing area. Calum looked around the teal walls at anatomic sketches and cartoon characters drawings. He was very impressed.

“Evita!” Jason screamed. Calum dropped a twenty on the desk.

“I get it,” Eve stammered loudly. “I’m Mexican! But you don’t have to constantly call me Evita like an asshole Jason!” Red burned her cheeks and ears at such anger. To Calum, Evita was triggering to Eve after four years of him calling her it. He was fully convinced she’d explode when her eyes landed on him. “You have blue on your face, dumbass.”

Calum wiped his face and noticed no residue on his finger. “Your daughter got Michael to put on blue shit,” Calum sighed. “Roped me into it too.” Michael, Ashton, Luke, and Melody watched two minutes of The Nightmare Before Christmas, disregarding February creeping upon them before Melody ran to Calum’s room and rasped on the wood. He asked her what she wanted, with his attitude faltering. Melody pointed to the blue cream on her face, and Calum reluctantly agreed with a groan and learned that he’s becoming wrapped around her finger.

“She’s your daughter too,” Eve said. “What do you want?”

“A tattoo,” Calum crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “Feel like I’m due for one that’s not Crayola.”

“I’m busy,”

“No, you’re not,” Eve looked a little defeated. “We can go for drinks instead. Get drunk, fuck, and you’ll get pregnant and claim Luke’s kid is mine again.” Calum smirked harder than before. Eve resisted punching that smirk off his face.

“Come on!” Eve stammered again, dragging Calum to her office with walls of perfect drawings. “You need to fucking stop!” Eve said the moment she locked the door. Their relationship seemed loveless and dangling off the edge of a crumbling cliff. They’re covering anger at themselves with arguments. Eve’s angry Calum left four years before; Calum’s angry he left too. Their feelings are repressed, but unlike Calum, Eve wanted those feelings back and to know what it’s like to be loved.

“Stop what, Evita?”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Eve hit her hand on the wooden door and a stinging pain shot down her arm. She didn’t stop. The brunette took all of her anger out on a hard door, tempting the bones in her hand. “You lost the right to call me that the day you left! You lost the right to call me that the day you came up with the thought that Melody is Luke’s daughter!” Eve turned to face Calum. Hot tears full of rage were beginning to gather. “If she was Luke’s daughter, why does she have dark hair? Curls? Why isn’t she pale?”

“You’re dark,” Calum snapped back. “You have curly hair.”

“Melody barely took after me! She took after you, you fucking asshole!” Eve wanted to hit Calum, take the rest of her burning rage out on him. She kept her hands to herself. “She’s supposed to be Melody Hood, not Sanchez. She’s supposed to be calling you Dad, not Uncle Calum! She looks just like your fucking sister, Calum! Stop denying her!”

“I’ll stop denying her the day you admit you fucked Luke.”

“I’ve never fucked Luke!”

“Everybody knows you did, Eve! Why else would you have kept your daughter a secret from me?”

“Because you fucking left,” Eve’s voice dropped low, scarily. She’s shorter than Calum by a foot, but he was scared he would get his ass beat. She could tear him to shreds; rip his confidence up one leg and down the other. “You left without a fucking word! Changed your phone number, abandoned any way we had to contact you!”

“I was doing what I needed to do!”

“Then why are you back? Why didn’t your dream go perfectly? Why aren’t you living happily in New York? Do you just want to torment me?”

“Everything failed, Eve! It’s not like I wanted to come back! I had nothing!”

“Then leave.”

“What?”

“If you didn’t want to be here, then leave. I’ll give you some fucking money. Get out, stay away from your daughter and this ‘Uncle Calum’ bullshit. Tell her that you’re her dad and I’m not the reason she’s never met him!”

“Eve-” Calum tried to say.

“Do you want to be here?”

“I . . . I don’t-”

“Yes or no. Decide right now. Do you want to be here?”

Calum swallowed his thick pride. “Yes.”

“Then man up and quit being everything you vowed you wouldn’t.”

“Get a DNA test.”

“What?” Eve looked down at her bruising hands, suddenly feeling the worst ache from them she’d felt in a long time.

“Get a DNA test. If it comes back that she’s mine, then I’ll be her dad. If I’m right, and she’s Luke’s, then shut your fucking mouth and quit being a bitch about everything. Deal?”

Eve squinted. “Go fuck yourself.”

-

Calum didn’t get a tattoo from Eve that night and took the first opening from a different artist in the same shop. Shay Ramsey, a regular that Eve tattoed a lot, walked into the parlor right after Eve finished cleaning her hands up and showed Eve a sketch she wanted. Eve studied the design and quickly fell in love with the way it had been originally sketched. She stayed up until dawn, tattooing a Medusa staring at a loaded bow pointing towards Shay’s neck. Underneath the bow were Medusa’s snakes with cracks and flowers sprouting from them.

Eve rang Ashton for a coffee and food run after the sun was fully up, explaining that she was working. Ashton pulled on joggers and a hoodie, put Melody in her car seat, and made the drive into town just for her.

“How’s it looking?” Shay asked, looking at the wall right in front of her. Medusa was split in half, which was the hardest part for Eve. Medusa didn’t have a nose bridge or a cupid's bow, to make room for a quote of Shay’s spine. ‘Daughters of the witches you couldn’t burn’ was tattooed in cursive, leading into the arrow.

“I think I’m going crazy, but a relaxed crazy. You know?”

“Makes sense,” Shay laughed a little bit, trying to not move her back from Eve’s needle. Eve only does large and time-consuming projects she knows will tip and sit well. “Miss your baby girl yet?”

“Man,” Eve laughed, turning to dip the needle in ink. “I do. She was with her uncles last night and they did the blue facemasks again.”

Shay laughed again. “You ‘gotta tell them not to do that again. How’s her arm?”

Eve rubbed the sleep from her eyes for a brief moment with the side of her arm. She just had to finish up shading Medusa, and she’d be finished. It would take forever, though. “Good. She’s getting out of the cast in a few weeks. She no longer feels comfortable feeding Norberty by herself.”

“How many animals does that child have now?”

Eve thought for a moment. “Two ferrets, a cat, a lizard, several fish, and she’s claiming Petunia, Michael’s dog, Ashton’s hedgehog, and Calum Hood.” Melody claims all of the animals, but she doesn’t take care of any of them. Though she’s three, so everyone lets her get away with it most of the time.

“Woah, wait. Calum Hood? He’s back?”

“Been here about a month. Spent all of his money, came back to live in the house and is a giant pain in my ass.” Eve shook her head. How dare he just leave her? She’s still not over four years of mourning and fear over raising their child by themselves.

“You two were perfect in high school. What happened?”

“I’m not even sure we liked each other in high school,” Eve wiped the sketch from Shay’s skin. The tattoo was progressing like a snail, but amazingly. “That’s a lie. He was the best thing in my life. Then, he gave me another Best Thing In My LIfe and he’s still sitting a close second.”

“You have to tell him that.”

“No thank you,” Eve watched the shop door open after Ashton unlocked it. “How about a break?” Shay nodded her head. Eve made her way towards Ashton and snatched the brown bag from his hands. “Did you get me food?” She slipped him some money for compensation. Eve grabbed a doughnut out of the bag. “Thank you so much.”

Just like Calum’s face, Ashton and Melody had faces stained with blue. Eve had to laugh a little bit. “Tell Uncle Luke to throw that stuff out, yeah?”

“No!” Melody shook her head. Ashton had thrown it away after he looked at the blue marks for a second time, depositing it in the location it was born from. Trash. “I had strawberries and ‘nanas.”

“You have strawberries and bananas?” Eve repeated back. She began feasting on her donut and sipping on frozen coffee. It tasted like perfection. “Did you save me any?”

Melody shook her head again, rustling her bed head. Ashton only slid a pair of jeans and a jacket on the little girl. Eve didn’t blame him for not dressing her up that much, that’s her job. “Uncle Cal made ‘em.”

“Calum made you strawberry banana pancakes? He hates those,”

“Yeah, but they were fucking good,” Ashton laughed. “Somehow, he knew they’re Melody’s favorite.”

Eve was very surprised.

-

Staring at the seemingly bored man standing in her bedroom doorway, Eve wondered if she should just kick him out. The thought of welcoming him inside of her bedroom made her feel warm and comfortable, she just wasn’t sure if it was the best idea. Calum hadn’t been in her bedroom at all, even when he showed back up and started taking care of Melody. He’d hold her until she slept, then Luke, the seemingly quietest person ever, would carry her up to her room.

It was personal, a barrier from the lives they used to love to the ones they’re entertaining now. Before escaping New Jersey, Calum snuck into Eve’s room, kissed her, and they laid together until she was well asleep. What eve doesn’t know about that night is that it took everything in Calum to leave her. He didn’t want to move hours away, but he had to. Calum remembers preparing to sneak back out and just watching her chest go up and down with shallow breaths. Everything in his body hurt.

After a few seconds of staring, Calum brushed his hair from his face. “We should go drinking tonight.”

“No,”

“Why?”

“I haven’t been drinking since before Melody was born,”

That didn’t stop Calum from convincing her into taking shots of tequila at a bar with their friends. Melody was staying at her grandparents for a few days. Eve could do whatever she wanted.

“Woah, slow down there Sparky!” Calum called, grabbing Eves shot out of her hands. “I think we should go home.”

“You’re just a party pooper,” Eve slurred, barely able to keep herself up. She slumped over a little bit, causing Calum to catch her. “See. I’m fine.”

While Eve isn’t the tallest person, she still manages to have long legs. On the few occasions, she’d get drunk at parties during teenage adolescence, and also go home to have sex all night with Calum, she’d learned how to not trip over her own feet and break her legs. After spraining her ankle walking from a party to Calum's house, she drilled herself to no longer trip over her feet like a newborn foal.

Calum was impressed she managed to keep that ability after several years of not drinking. Calum wrapped his arm around her for support and they stumbled towards the door, Calum getting in the way of where Eve was stepping.

“We should get tacos, Cally!”

A sharp pain overtook Calums' left side. Eve called Calum ‘Cally’ when they were teenagers. It was her favorite nickname for him because only she could call him that. On one occasion that Luke tried to call Calum ‘Cally’, Luke almost ended up with a shiner. Calum and Eve had nicknames for each other that only they could say.

“Yeah,” Calum whispered through a scratchy throat. “I don’t think there’s a place to get them.”

“Then let’s go home and make tacos!”

Calum rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he unlocked the car door and helped Eve inside. She smiled at him and blew him a kiss before he ran to the other side of the car. “Ready to go home?”

“Yes,” Eve smiled wider.

The ride was short for the pair. The bar was a while away from the house, but with a flirty Eve in the car with him, Calum drove over the speed limit before he did something he’d regret soon. Eve sobered up a little bit on the ride and began to remember some of her anger towards Calum. In all honesty, she wanted a kiss from him too.

“How was drinking?” Ashton asked. Eve gave him two thumbs up. “Sounds like you had fun.”

“I don’t even remember why I went drinking,” Eve laughed. Calum pulled her toward the kitchen. “Tacos!” Eve screamed, gathering the ingredients. She pulled meat from the fridge they’d cooked earlier in the night, along with tortillas, and everything you can imagine going on a taco.

“Wanna watch a movie downstairs while we eat?” Calum asked. Oddly, he didn’t want to separate from Eve. He wanted to stay with her, protect her, lay with her, and watch bad TV shows together. Calum misses how he and Eve used to be.

“We can watch it in my room.” Eve shrugged. She grabbed her plate of a soft taco packed inside of a splitting shell and lead Calum to her room.

Melody had left some toys behind, leaving them scattered on the floor. Eve shoved them toward Melody’s messy bed and set her plate on the side table. Calum felt uncomfortable walking into the room as if it were his own, sitting down on the bed like he used to. Eve always sat toward the end so she could see the TV better, but Calum always sat behind her. He laughed when she chose The Jonas Brothers.

“You still watch that?” Calum asked. He took a bite of his cold taco.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Me,”

“Well you’re stupid,” Eve said. She watched the show intently, taking bites of her food every so often. Calum didn’t watch TV, instead he watched Eve break down a wall he wished was never there and let him inside of her. She wasn’t mad at him, she wasn’t trying to pick a fight or argue with Calum. She just sat there, eating and watched a Disney show like her life depended on it. Until she fell back into teenage habits and scooted back to sit in Calum’s lap.

“Comfy?” Calum asked, offering up a small laugh. Eve rested her head on Calum’s shoulder, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He smelled like Old Spice and memories. “Are you going to lay like this for a while?”

“Obviously,”

“But I’m cold!”

“We are laying on a blanket, Calum, learn to use your head,” Eve sighed and tore away from her comfortable position to pull the blankets tucked corners out. First, she got underneath the blue duvet, then sat on Calum so he could be warm too. “Better?” Eve asked, returning to her position.

“Much.”

Calum wasn’t cold. He just wanted to get Eve off of him, but he didn’t know how to say it. He wants Eve off his body so he didn’t feel the fire of her skin touching his, the sight of her small body laid on top of him, or the smell of orchid shampoo filling his nostrils. Calum wanted to forget everything; Melody, coming back to New Jersey, Eve, how he still loves Eve with all of his heart.

“Calum?” Eve broke Calum’s concentration on the window behind the TV. Calum looked down at her and wanted to keep her body in that position forever. “You okay?”

Calum cleared his throat. No. He’s not okay. He’s falling even further for someone he never got over. “Yeah. You?”

Eve looked up. Calum couldn’t help but gape at Eve. “Kiss?” Eve tilted her head back for a kiss. Just like when they were teenagers. Calum hesitated for just a moment. “W-wait. I’m sorry. Just-” Eve hid her face in her hands. Embarrassment flooded her body.

She’d forgotten about everything. Calum seemed to do that to her. She forgot about how she’s supposed to be mad at him, about how he left without saying anything. Calum giggled and reached for her hands.

“Evita,” Calum smiled. It was funny to him - her red cheeks and ears were magnificent.

Eve declined his laughter. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why? It’s your name. Evita Ma-”

“No!” Eve cries. “Stop it!”

“Why do you hate it so much? You used to love being called Evita,”

Eve looked at Calum. Calum thought she was going to fall over and cry. “You used to call me Evita. Only you!”

“And?”

“You call me Eve now,” Eve brushed her hair away from her face. The messy bun she’d tried to do during the car ride was falling in small strands. She felt like she couldn’t see. “Just Eve. I only let you call me Evita, and then-”

“-And then I left and you felt that it was tied to me.”

Eve nodded her head. “Michael tried to joke around and call me Evita one day and I started to cry. Could've been pregnancy hormones or something, but you came back and now it’s like it’s all in the past and-”

“Eve, shh, calm down,” Calum grabbed Eve’s hands before she had a chance to hurt something. Her fists clenched hard and he was forced to undo them. “Listen. I’m here right now, and I’m not going to leave. No matter how much I say I just want to leave, I’m not going to leave. I’m here for you, for Melody, for . . . for everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Of course.” Calum didn’t realize how tense Eve was until he said that. Her body relaxed as if she’d finished working out or something. She just fell into him and he felt well. “How are you feeling?”

Eve looked up at Calum. “Kiss?”

Calum barely pressed his lips to Eve’s, giving her what both of them wanted. His lips began to feel numb, ripped apart by electricity he only felt with Eve. Neither of them let go. Eve snaked her hand around to the back of Calum’s neck, deepening their kiss. Calum slid his cold hand up the back of Eve’s hoodie. She shivered.

“Your hands are very cold,” Eve whispered, crumbling away from Calum’s lips. Calum nodded his head. January has made their entire lives freezing. “So are mine.” Eve clapped her hands on an area of skin Calum’s collar revealed.

“Yes they are, Eve,” said Calum. They both giggled a little bit. Eve watched Calum, but Calum watched her lips. She bit down on her bottom, kiss-ridden lip. Calum couldn’t stop watching. Eve kissed him again.

Calum loved the feeling of Eve’s lips on his, Eve sitting on top of him in a non-sexual manner - but let’s be real he’d love it either way. They weren’t angry at each other, just happy and acting like teenagers they used to be. Calum’s heart broke a little bit, though, realizing that Eve wouldn’t remember a single thing when she’d wake up the next morning.

She’d just remember drinking.

-

“I’m going to pick up Melody, anybody need anything?” Eve questioned, walking through the kitchen to grab her car keys. She plucks them off the hook and wraps her lanyard around her finger.

“It’s snowing, Eve,” said Ashton. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“You’re so overprotective,” Eve groaned. “I have to pick my daughter up from her grandmothers’ house. Does anybody need anything?”

“You’re not going,”

“Yes I am, Ashton. Would you like anything while I am out?”

“I’ll go with her,” Calum sighed, reaching for a jacket. He pulled it over his head and let the hood settle on top of his curls. “Might as well have somebody else with you. Right?”

“I guess,” Eve snapped. “Let’s go or we’ll be late.”

The cold wind hit them like a ton of bricks. Eve was suddenly well aware of how underdressed she was, and how she should buy a snowsuit. She got into her silver SUV and turned the heat on immediately. It also blasted cold air.

“Cold?” Calum asked with a small chuckle. He pulled his jacket back off, leaving him in just a long-sleeved shirt. “Here,” He said. Eve took his hoodie and slipped it on. It smelled like heaven and even while he only wore it for just a small period, it was warm.

Eve took it off before entering her moms' house, though. She gave it back to Calum so her mother didn’t question why the Hood emblem is on her breast. The short girl became cold and wanted it back.

“Mel!” Eve called before hearing the sound of Melody stumbling down the stairs. “Don’t break another bone!” Melody ran right up to Eve and hugged her legs tightly. “Ready?”

Melody shook her head. “No.”

“Why?”

“It’s cold.”

“Want my jacket, kid?” Calum asked. Melody nodded her head, and for a second time, Calum peeled it off his body. “Arms up.” Melody put her arms to the sky and Calum helped her put it on. It pooled at her feet.

“I swear if she breaks another bone-” Eve started.

“-She’s not going to break another bone, Eve,” Calum laughed. “I can just carry her- see.” He lifted Melody off the floor and onto his hip. “Comfy, kid?” Melody nodded her head. Calum laughed again.

Catalina Sanchez, Eve’s mom, walked into the kitchen and started to swoon. She looked different from the last time Calum had seen her; black hair turned grey, wrinkles embedded themselves in her forehead and underneath her eyes, and she seemed to have lost a lot of weight. “Calum!” She called, opening her arms up bringing him into a hug. “I heard you were back from this little munchkin,” Catalina poked Melody’s belly.

“Sure am, Mom,” Calum replied.

Catalina is the mom of every person she comes in contact with. All of Eve’s friends, all of her sister Emerson’s friends. Ashton, Calum, Michael, and Luke were always allowed around her house to relax, live, eat, or for emotional support. Everyone calls her Mom, besides her grandchild.

“How long? Are you leaving again? Please tell me you aren’t leaving again Mister Calum H-”

“I’m not planning on leaving again, don’t worry,”

“Good. This little girl is happy to have you. She talked about you for about two days straight,”

Calum felt a pang of happiness in his heart. Did Melody talk about him? Bragged about Calum? Calum had never had anything like that before. He smiled wider than he could imagine.

Catalina turned to her daughter. “Now, Eve, I swear you need to get Melody’s speech impediment figured out-”

Eve groaned. “She doesn’t have a speech impediment, mom, she’s just being a kid.”

“Are you sure? She can’t say, Ashton. Melody say-”

“Mom!” said Eve. “Would you stop? Please? My daughter is perfectly fine and is just barely three!”

Catalina pointed her finger sternly at Eve. “Don’t talk to me that way, young lady. If she still can’t say Ashton when she turns four, then she has a speech impediment.” Eve rolled her eyes. “Calum, how about you go warm up the car? I need to talk to my daughter.”

Calum took the cue to go away and headed out the back door. “How was your stay at grandmas?”

“Good!” Melody squealed. “We had chicken!”

“Chicken? No way!”

Calum opened the door of the SUV but stopped when he noticed all the snow accumulating. There was no way they’d get home safely with all the snow. He cursed, but quietly so Melody wouldn’t hear him.

“‘s wrong?” Melody asked. She looked around, trying to figure out the problem Calum was having. If Calum set her down on the ground, snow would reach above her ankles, almost to her knees. The snow wasn’t the only thing falling from the sky, but also hail the size of golf balls and painful sleet.

Calum’s head was turning into the clouds above him. There’s no way that this is happening to him. No way! “We’re going to have to stay here, Kid.”

“Sleepover!” Melody squealed.

-

Calum almost had a heart attack. Eve’s bed seemed to be more comfortable than he could remember, but when she walked from the hallway, into her old bedroom, he couldn’t believe the outfit she’d worn. A large shirt - that used to be his - and he wasn’t sure if there was anything underneath. He glanced away, staring at the floor instead of the beautiful princess closing the bedroom door.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with this? I can go to sleep on the couch if you’re not.” Calum said with a bit of pitch in his voice. He looked at the window he’d crawled out of the night he left New Jersey. He felt like shit.

“It’s fine,” Eve shrugged. After she moved in with Luke, Ashton, and Michael, she changed almost nothing about her old room. The dresser still sat crooked near the closet door, a small TV was still sitting on top of it, but Calum wasn’t sure if it’d work. Eve sat down on the bed next to Calum. “Are you okay with it?”

“Yeah,” Calum said. He cleared his throat. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because . . . okay, that’s it, I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

Calum grabbed Eve’s arm before she could stand up from the bed and pulled her close to him. “I’m fine, okay? I promise. It’s like when we were younger and-”

“-We fucked practically every night.”

“Well, not exactly,” Calum chuckled. He offered a small smile to Eve, which she took with an eye roll. “When all of us would sleepover. Luke would always sleep on the floor with Michael and Ashton, and after they were asleep I’d crawl up to bed with you.”

“They had no clue about us for like . . .”

“Four months,” Calum said. Eve smiled. She couldn’t remember that small detail, but Calum could. She wondered how much more he could remember about their relationship. “Remember Ashton screaming after the basketball game?”

Eve hid her blushing face with her hands. Giggles slipped through her fingers. “I remember that. You busted open your lip or something and whined every time I put the cleaner on it. I had to kiss you like every five seconds and-”

“And Ashton walked in and screamed at the top of his lungs,”

Eve laughed even harder. “You threatened to tie him down and fill his lungs with orange soda.”

“I had to make sure he wouldn’t tell anybody!”

Eve brushed her long hair from her face and looked at him. Her ears and cheeks were red, but not like a few days before. “He still told Michael two minutes later.”

“How was I to know that he had his phone on him, Eve!”

“Remember when Luke found out? He walked straight here and told my mom-”

“-And she said ‘You’re late’!”

They both tumbled backward from laughter. Luke had walked straight from his house a few blocks away just to tell Catalina, but Catalina already knew. She felt bad for saying that, so she made him his favorite meal. Luke ate it quickly, thanked her, and went to Calum’s mom to spoil the news for her.

“Man, I miss being a teenager,” Eve sighed. She was nineteen when Melody was born. Her life went from studying modern art to being a badass mom with tattoos and ignoring everyone's opinions about her life. “No responsibilities. Get to live life. Don’t have to worry about which Disney movie to watch next.”

“Since when is it movies? We watched The Jonas Brothers, Eve,”

“We did what?!” Eve yelled. “The other day we watched The Jonas Brothers? Are you sure you just didn’t see the TV that well and we were-”

“Eve, the TV is right in front of your bed. I know which show we were watching,”

Eve looked down and began playing with her fingers. Calum was in her room? They watched her guilty pleasure together, and Calum didn’t complain until some stupid show was played? “What else happened?”

Calum didn’t want to reply. He didn’t want Eve to know about them kissing, or how she confessed why she hates Evita, or how he said he wasn’t going anywhere. He wanted to leave her hanging just a little while he came to terms with Melody. It was taking longer than it should’ve and he was even mad at himself. “Nothing important.”

“You sure?”

Calum pretended to think. “100-percent.”

“Really?” Eve asked. “I may have forgotten most of the night but I remember one thing.”

Calum’s heart began beating fast. He didn’t know what she remembered, and he was suddenly worried. He didn’t want Eve’s hopes up, and all of a sudden he had to dip because he can’t take the idea of having a child. “What do you remember?”

Eve scooted closer to Calum. “Your hands were really cold.”

Calum laughed. “They were.” Eve and Calum locked eyes. “Do you remember anything else?”

Eve shook her head. “That’s what alcohol does to me.”

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything else?” Suddenly, Calum was desperate to kiss Eve again. He missed the electricity flowing through his body. But eve shook her head. She didn’t remember the kiss a single bit. Calum wanted to remind her. “Nothing else?”

“Why? What happened?”

Calum’s eyes flicked to Eve’s lips. Just a peck, a small brush, or even a kiss on the cheek. He needed some sort of contact. “Can’t tell you.” Calum locked eyes with Eve for just a moment, then looked away at something else. The closet door seemed like the perfect place to look, but it also messed with his head.

A few times that Calum would stay the night with Eve, Luke or Ashton would show up unannounced and Calum would have to hide, half-dressed, in Eve’s tiny closet. Even worse were times that they tried to stay for a while and Eve had to drag them upstairs to play video games just so Calum could pretend he just showed up.

 Eve followed Calum’s eyes to the closet door. “Want something else to wear?”

“Huh?” Calum looked down at his jeans. “Oh, uh, no?”

“I still have your clothes, Cal, I’m not offering you a frilly dress. I’m offering you something comfortable to sleep in.”

“Sure,” Calum sighed. Eve stood up to dig through her dresser drawers. Most of the clothes Calum had left without, she kept at the new house, rather than the one she lived in once before. A lot of times, they made great maternity clothes.

“Here,” Eve said, continuing to dig through her drawers. She’d expected she left more clothes, but in reality, she left almost none of Calum’s. Calum took the grey joggers out of her hands. They were tied for her tiny waist. He pulled the knot apart. “I don’t think I have any shirts except-” Eve looked down at the shirt she’d been wearing. “Let me look in my closet.”

But the closet was almost bare. Just a few shirts that Eve bought while pregnant, that fit so large they were oversized with an eight-pound baby in her stomach. She’d never choose to sleep in those, however. They had been itchy and uncomfortable. Imagine sleeping in something like that.

“I don’t have a shirt,” Eve shrugged. “Sucks to be you.”

Calum rolled his eyes. “I have my shirt, and my jacket, brat. I think I can suffice.”

Eve shrugged again, but dramatically. “No, I don’t think you will. You should take it off.”

“Is Evita Sanchez telling me to take off my shirt?” Calum laughed. Maybe she did remember the kiss and wanted it to happen again as much as he did.

“You’ll never know,” Eve laughed and stuck her tongue out just a little bit. She looked just like her eighteen-year-old self when she did that. Calum was swooning again. She scrunched her nose up a bit and Calum had to laugh.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth,”

“What’s underneath that shirt?”

“Dare,”

“Take off that shirt.”

“What makes you think you get to see what’s underneath my shirt, Calum Hood?” Eve crossed her arms. Normally, she’d just tell him, as she’d do with the guys. But normally, she’s wearing actual clothes instead of just panties.

Calum bit his lip and drug his eyes from the floor to her long, tan legs, up to her hips, which happened to be covered by the shirt. His eyes continued trailing up her body, noticing an inconsistency with what she normally wears. “You’re a tease.”

Eve rolled her eyes dramatically. “I am not a tease.”

“You’re not a tease?” Calum stood up from Eve’s bed. “Not a single bit?” He pressed his body to hers, his hands dragging up the back of her bare legs. Eve shivered. “Are my hands cold?”

The drunken night started coming back; they made out on her bed, and she enjoyed it. She was happy to be kissing her high school boyfriend again and feeling his hands on her body. “Maybe.” Eve sputtered out.

Calum seductively smirked. “Are you okay, Evita?”

“I’m fine,” Eve lied. “Your hands are just cold.”

Calum let go on Eve, setting backward to grab the joggers off the bed. “Maybe we should just go to sleep, then. I can warm up, then.” He walked out of the room to change in the bathroom. Eve’s body slumped against the closet door, and she slid until she was sitting on the floor.

She’s fucking up her life anymore, but she doesn’t care.

-

Only a few days after the encounter with Calum at Catalina’s house, Eve woke up to an empty bed, and an empty room. Normally, Melody crawls into bed with Eve or at least wakes Eve up in the morning, but Eve was surprised and concerned when the room was empty. She shot up, looking at the time when it hit her that Melody wasn’t with her. Just barely dawn, and her baby isn’t with her.

Quickly, she ran out of her room, to Luke’s right next door, then to Michael’s on the opposite side. She wasn’t with either of them or Ashton. Melody and Ashton have a bond for the love of sleep and making loud noises. But all three of her roommates were asleep. There was one place she hadn’t checked yet; Calum’s room.

She knew in her heart that the possibility that Melody was in Calum's room was low, especially since Calum sleeps late, and Melody wakes up early. Calum probably went to sleep just not long ago, passing out after a video game binge. Reluctantly, she pushed his door open just an inch.

The room was a disaster with clothes strewn everywhere, and blankets scattered in odd directions. However, Melody was there. Asleep on Calum’s bare chest, snoring just a bit. Eve wanted to capture the moment and relish in the captivating sight she was looking at. Like father like daughter, asleep with The Little Mermaid playing in the background, surrounded by thousands of blankets and pillows.

Eve smiled and walked back to her bedroom.

-

Melody jabbed her finger into Eve’s throat. “What’s that say?”

“It says angel,” Eve replied for the thousandth time.

“What’s that one?” Melody pointed to both of Eve’s shoulders.

“That one is the sun, and that one is the moon,” Eve said.

“Why?”

“Because I liked it,”

“Why?”

“Because you are the sun and the moon?”

“Why?”

“Why don’t you go bug Uncle Calum about his tattoos?”

“Yours is cooler.” Melody traced the crescent moon and the clouds it covered. “Pretty,” Melody switched to the sun on Eve’s right shoulder. “I get one?”

“You’re too young, Mel,” Eve reached for markers Melody left on the coffee table. “You want a washable one?” Melody nodded her head quickly and tore off her shirt. “What do you want?”

“That,” Melody pointed to snakehead just peaking above Eve’s sports bra, in between her boobs. “Pwease?” Eve reluctantly nodded her head and pulled the cap off the black marker.

Her snake is intricate, with geometric patterns along its back and realistic shading. Eve sketched out a simple cartoon snake on Melody’s sternum. Melody didn’t stop smiling until Eve pulled the marker off her skin.

“More? Pwease?”

“No,” Eve laughed, grabbing Melody’s arms to sit her up fully. “You don’t need to be covered in ink yet.” Melody giggled her normal giggle and stared down at her body. “Do you like it?”

“Just like yours!” She waved her cast toward her mom’s chest. “Show them?”

“You want to show your Uncles?” Eve could barely ask the question before Melody bolted toward the kitchen, almost falling on her face. She has her fathers’ athletic abilities, even just at three. Eve followed behind, but slower. “Melody has something to show you,” Eve said, entering the kitchen of men.

They looked up from their odd positions, eating different types of breakfast, not surprised that Melody is running around barely clothed again. In the 5 Seconds Of Summer household, wearing shirts is more uncommon than being practically naked. It’s an unwritten rule in being confident with your body.

Calum set down his cereal bowl on top of a notebook. Eve wanted to know what he was writing, and why it had so many scribbles. “What is it, Kid?” He looked past the snake drawn on her chest.

“Look!” Melody pointed at the snake, and the group of grown men called ‘Wow’ and ‘No way is that real?’

Calum pushed away his notebook and crouched to Melody’s level to look at the snake closer. “Is this real? I’ll kick your butt if you got a tattoo!” Melody giggled at him. “I’m serious! Is it real?”

“No!” Melody giggled. “Mommy’s ta’too!”

“It’s mommy's tattoo!?” Ashton exclaimed, joining Calum. “Are you sure? I’ve never seen this on her.”

“Yeah, Eve, why don’t you show us your tattoo,” Calum chuckled. His brown eyes meet with her silvers and she had to break away. “Don’t be a party pooper, Evita.” Calum stood up and walked to Eve so he could press his finger to the snakes head. “I wanna’ see it.”

“Yeah, man, I’ve never seen it,” Luke laughed. He shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth, ignoring painful glares Eve sends him. “Eve,” Luke drags out loudly. “We wanna see!”

“I will fight every single one of you, don’t test me,” Eve answered. She looked around Calum and pointed at his notebook. “I’ll show you the tattoo if you tell me what you’re writing.”

Calum looked down, then up, toward his notebook, back at Eve, at Melody, then at his hands. It was a hard decision. “Suck my dick, Sanchez,” Eve winked at Calum. Calum winked back. “Boys, I guess we won't get to see the tattoo.”

“I seen it!” Melody yells. She reaches up the drag down the top of Eve’s sports bra. Eve barely caught the fabric before she flashed a room full of guys. “Show ‘em!”

“No, Mel,” Eve giggled. “They don’t get to see it.”

“Fine,” Melody huffed and stomped her little butt back to the TV. Eve looked around the corner to make sure she safely made it to the couch.

“So what is in your notebook?” Eve asked Calum, passing him. Luke tore the bowl away from the paper and hid the notebook underneath his shirt. “All of you are going to hide it from me, aren’t you?”

They all collectively nodded their heads. “It’s personal, Eve,” Calum said, grabbing for his notebook. “You can know when it’s finished. Otherwise-”

“At least tell me what it’s about. Please?” Eve covered her chest with both of her arms. “I’ll show you the tattoos. All of them.���

“Really?”

“No,” Eve reached for the rough notebook again. “Please just let me see it!”

Calum held it above his head, where she couldn’t reach. “No way. You can know when it’s finished!”

“Fine,” Eve snapped. “Next time you let my kid lay with you, tell me first, please.”

Calum nodded his head. “Now show the tattoo or leave, Evita.”

Eve turned on her heel and headed toward her daughter.

-

Calum recognized the sound of Eve’s knock. He waltzed to the door, opened it, and stared eye to eye with Eve. He moved his eyebrows up and down. Eve wasn’t amused.

“Yes, Evita?” Calum asked. Eve barely got a peek into his room, looking around at the torn up sheets of paper littering his bed and floor. The notebook he’d carried like a baby the past few days were seemingly getting smaller and smaller. Eve just wanted to know what he was doing with it - but he won’t tell her.

“It’s time to cuddle,” Eve ducked underneath Calum’s arm and walked into his room like any other day. She brushed the ripped paper off the bed and pulled the most recently-tucked-in blanket off his mattress and settled underneath it.

“Well hello to you too,” Calum let the door latch before pouncing onto the mattress. He straddled Eve’s body with his legs. “Guess whos’ on top?”

“Get off of me playboy,” Eve laughed. The small girl had to use all of her might to push Calum’s body off of hers.

Calum landed flat on his back next to her. “Look who’s sneaking into whos room now, huh?”

Eve poked Calum’s side. He flinched a little bit. “If there wasn’t a sleeping three-year-old in my room, you’d probably sneak into mine too.”

“Never. Absolutely never.” Calum smiles at Eve, and Eve smiles right back at him. “If I show you what’s in my notebook will you show me the snake tattoo?” Eve let out a loud bellow.

“Good try, Hood,” Eve pulled the hair tie from her long, dark braid and her mane fell in loose curls on Calum’s bed. To Calum, she looked beautiful whether or not she was showing the tattoo. “You’ll never ever get to see it.”

“Damn,” Calum swears with a snap of his fingers. “How many tattoos do you have?”

“As I said, too many,” Eve smiles wide, remembering the days she got most of her tattoos. After Calum left, Eve couldn’t get a tattoo until after Melody was born, and that’s when she elected Melody’s footprint to be right behind her ear. After a couple of months, though, she continued the trail down her back in the tattoo Melody is most fascinated with.

Eve got a snake tattooed between her boobs on a dare. Her, Ashton, and Michael were out being stupid late one night, so they started playing the dumb game. It took a couple of rounds to get Eve convinced into a tattoo, but she showed up to Addictions Tattoo Shop. She ended up buying that shop, renamed it, and painted it to her desire. Catalina almost killed her.

“Explain some of them to me,” whispered Calum. He glanced at her. “Honestly. Explain some of them to me.”

“Well I obviously have Mel’s feet, and-”

“-No,” Calum shook his head a little bit. “I express myself through music, you express yourself through art. Explain to me some of them people can’t see.”

“On my rib, I have ‘still breathing’ tattooed with a semicolon. Does that count?”

“Kind of,” Calum turned fully to tug up Eve’s shirt. He forgot her habit of wearing only underwear underneath. He just wanted to see the ink embedded in her skin and it’s a whimsical dance around her body. Just above her hip bone, Calum traced a large lotus flower with paint splatters curling toward the inside of her thigh and around to her back. Eve giggled a little bit. “What does this one mean?”

“I got bored and wanted to try a new technique. Turned out pretty good, right?”

Calum continued to trace, along to tattoos scattered around her stomach. “It did.” Eve was right, she has ‘still breathing;’ tattooed on her left rib in cursive, but a dinosaur on a skateboard smoking a cigarette on the opposite rib. He traced that tattoo and Eve shivered. His hands always seemed to be cold. “What’s this one?” Eve was about to answer when he tore her shirt up a little bit more, revealing moon phases and tiny stars underneath her breasts, curving with the way her body was built. “How’d you come up with this one?”

“My mom was always told me to look at the moon every night, and I’d find comfort in everything,”

“Deep,” Calum tug her shirt up a little more, expecting that Eve would try to fight him about being a pervert. She didn’t, though, thus Calum pushed it up to her armpits and admired Eve’s body. “Nice tattoos.”

“Right?”

Her torso curved perfectly for her liking, and she still had some meat on her bones. Eve was seemingly skinny, but healthy, and like she wouldn’t eat a salad to impress a guy. She didn’t have an overly large chest, the perfect size for Calum to like. During their teenage years, Eve was uncomfortable with Calum seeing her body all the time. She’d hide from him and wear overly large clothes because she was uncomfortable.

Calum pressed a kiss to the bottom of her sternum, right underneath her rips, on the warm, ticklish skin. He pressed the area right above it, then until the shirt was bunched up. He kissed the front of Eve’s neck and on the tattoo that said ‘angel’ in a fancy font. Behind her ear, Calum smirked when she let out a breathy capture of his name.

“You should get more tattoos like that,” Calum stated, tracing his finger around the snakes coiled tail. He didn’t let his finger stop on the tip, but drug it down her body to the waistband of her panties and over to the lotus flower on her hip. “I like them.” He rubbed his finger into her hip bones, digging down just a little bit. “Do you like them?”

“They’re cool,” Eve replied. She grabbed his shoulders to pull his body into hers. She felt his shirt press into her bare torso, and more. Feeling overly nervous, Eve pressed her lips to Calum’s. Something she’s wanted for so long, to remember it for days to come. Calum rubbed Eve’s jaw with his thumb, sneaking his fingers into her curls right behind her ear. “Wait - wait, we can’t.” Eve pulled away from Calum, wiggled to remove her body from underneath his and to pull down her shirt again.

“Wh-” Calum tried to ask.

“We can’t, Calum,” Eve covered her eyes with her fingers and dug her nails into her hair. She wanted Calum back more than she ever had. Calum was the love of her life, her first real boyfriend, the father of her child. If anything were to happen, they’d complicate everything, in Eve’s head. They’d hurt Melody, and she’d get mad about being deceived for over a month about ‘Uncle Calum’. “We’ll fuck everything up, and-”

“Eve-”

Eve stumbled to his door. She turned back to look at him. She loves Calum. Her heart hurt when he left, and when he came back. She wasn’t angry that he was back, but he was angry that he left without saying anything. Eve wants to hate him, to forget about Calum all together, leave behind a life she always wanted.

“Eve!” Calum called when Eve reached for the doorknob. She wasn’t thinking with her head, just what she thought everyone was wanting.

“I . . . I think I need to move somewhere with just Melody . . . no one else.” Then she left his room and locked herself inside her own.

-

“Where’s Eve?” Calum pushed, running into the soundproof room in the basement. He didn’t see her at all, not even when he walked into her bedroom. He could find Melody in the room with Ashton, Michael, and Luke, holding a tiny tambourine, but he couldn’t find her mother. “Have you guys seen Eve? At all?”

“No, what’s up?” asked Luke. He pulled his guitar off his body and placed it on the rack.

“I need to find Eve. Something stupid happened last night and-”

“Oh God, please tell me she’s not pregnant again,” Michael jokes, pointing at Calum’s dick. “Learn to keep that in your pants, please. We need exactly one Melody.” Calum let his arms fall to his sides. He couldn’t even joke around with his friends. He needed to find Eve! “Cal, are you okay?”

“I have to find Eve!” Calum screamed. Desperation filled his tone and strangled everyone around him. Quickly, they all figured out how badly Calum needed to find Eve. “Have you seen her?”

“I . . . I think she’d in the workout room. Have you checked there?”

Calum takes a deep breath. That’s the only area around their property he hasn’t checked. His long legs took him up the stairs, out the back door, and down the stone pathway to a large shed full of equipment. Loud music filled his ears. The music he wouldn’t have expected - Drag Me Down by One Direction. It was obvious that Eve was there.

He knocked once, but to no avail, he didn’t get a reply. She’s distracted. She’s working out, not waiting for knocks on the door and men professing their love to her. Calum opens the door and spots her in the far corner doing yoga.

One Direction and yoga. That’s Eve for you.

Her eyes look in the mirror, reflecting the open door. She dropped to the mat beneath her and stood up. “Get out.” Calum was surprised she wasn’t stern, but rather trying to convince herself that she wanted Calum away. “Get out!”

“You have to stay, Eve,”

“Good to know,” Eve picked a jacket off the floor and pulled it over her sports bra. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Your opinion doesn’t matter. I’ll do what’s best for me and my daughter.”

“But it’s not what’s best for Melody!” Calum bit down on his tongue. It was coming. He knew what was coming; a broken voice and shaky hands. A bolt of electricity shot through him. “She needs to be here- with her mom, her dad, and all three of her uncles.”

Eve was surprised, taken aback, concerned at what Calum had said. Her voice went low. “What?” 

“Please, Eve,” Calum wanted to get on his knees and beg. After Eve left his room, he sat up for hours, thinking about Melody and Eve, how much he wanted them around. He came to terms with Melody - a very scary thing - and finally stopped denying it. Calum Thomas Hood has a beautiful daughter with brown eyes and curly dark hair, named Melody. “Please don’t take my daughter from me. Melody means everything to me, and I can’t . . . I can’t let either of you leave.” 

“This isn’t going to work, Calum.” Eve crossed her arms. She didn’t want to believe what he was saying. “You can’t just use her as an excuse when you want me to do something! You can’t use my daughter as a pawn!”

“I’m . . . I’m not, Eve,” hot tears began to fall down Calum’s cheeks. He was so passionate, wanting Melody and Eve to stay, keeping his daughter close, and coming to terms with everything he didn’t want to. “Melody means more than everything combined. I want my daughter! You can’t just move out because of me! If anything, I’ll move out - find somewhere else to live and leave both of you alone. I’ll visit Melody, I’ll make a complete effort to be the dad I should have been for so many years!”

“I think that’s passed, Calum,” Eve knocked her shoulder against Calum when she walked into the cold February air. Calum watched her walk away, down the stone path with all of their handprints stuck into rocks and colored with spray paint. She ignored his pleads for her to listen. Calum wants to change her mind, for her to stay. But Eve has to decide what she needs.

Calum walked slowly back to the soundproof room. He broke the seal of sound, ripping open the door. He didn’t close it behind him. His best friends were playing a song for his daughter - one that they called Airplanes, that Calum had written. To him, it didn’t sound weird without his bass or singing, but to everyone else, they were uncomfortable. Calum flicked off the amps Michael and Luke were connected to, cutting off all the sound except Ashton.

“What the fuck?” Michael screamed, throwing his hands in the air. “Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Shove off,” Calum muttered, searching for his guitar. He picked it by the neck and carried it to Melody. He sat with his legs crisscrossed, right in front of her. “Mel,”

“Ya?” Melody replied with a large smile on her face.

“I wrote you a song. Do you want to hear it?”

Melody nodded her head quickly. “Duh!”

Calum wrote the song for all of them. For Luke’s carefree voice, Michael’s perfect guitar strums, Ashton’s drumming, and Calum’s bass. Yeah, they did alternative parts where Michael or Calum sang, and Luke just played guitar and so on, but those were Calum’s favorite parts. He couldn’t take it; Calum planned on singing for Melody as a present when the song was furnished, cleaned up, and memorized properly. He knew all of the singing parts, all of the guitar's parts. He could do it by himself.

He started strumming. Without Ashton’s drumming, it was bizarre. He kept strumming. “I don’t even like you, why’d you want to go and make me feel this way?” He scrunched his nose up and leaned close to Melody so she knew he was joking. Melody giggled in reply. “I don’t understand what’s happened, I keep saying things I never say.”

Luke, Michael, and Ashton were surprised. When they were puny highschoolers, playing talent shows and basement concerts, Calum never wanted to perform by himself. Even with just their family surrounding them, he wouldn’t sing by himself. On one occasion, Eve got him to sing a little bit of a song she liked, but he quit after stumbling over the lyrics. Singing by himself isn’t his thing, but he can’t express everything with everyone else.

“I can feel you watching even when you’re nowhere to be seen, I can feel you touching even when you’re far away from me,” Calum had to smile wide when Melody poked the tip of his nose in response. “Tell me where you’re hiding your voodoo doll, ‘cause I can’t control myself. I don’t want to stay, I wanna’ run away, but I’m trapped under your spell.”

Calum slowed down his strumming and pointed to the areas he described. “And it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest, and I’m having trouble catching my breath.” Melody replicated Calum’s movements until he picked up strumming again. “Won’t you please stop loving me to death?”

“No!” Melody squeaked.

Calum felt more love for his daughter. “I don’t even see my friends no more, ‘cause I keep hanging out with you. I don’t know how you kept me up all night, or how I got this tattoo,” Calum held out his right wrist, with a pocket watch sitting in a bed of flowers tattooed from the night he argued with Eve. He told the artist to choose a random time for the clock hands, and he ended up with the exact time Melody was born forever on his body. “I can feel you watching, even when you’re nowhere to be seen. I can feel you touching even when you’re far away from me. Tell me where you’re hiding your voodoo doll, ‘cause I can’t control myself,” Melody stared in awe at Calum. “I don’t wanna stay, I wanna’ run away, but I’m trapped under your spell, and it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest,”

Melody did the same moves as Calum; pointing at her right temple, right above her left breast, and on her sternum. She didn’t dare take her eyes off of Calum, though.

“And I’m having trouble catching my breath, won’t you please stop loving me to death?” Again, Melody told him no. “Every time I see you, suddenly my heart begins to race, every time I leave, I don’t know why my heart begins to break.” Melody poked Calum’s nose again, so he’d smile. “Tell me where you’re hiding your voodoo doll, ‘cause I can’t control myself, I don’t wanna stay, I wanna’ run away, but I’m trapped under your spell. And it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest, and I’m having trouble catching my breath. Won’t you please stop loving me to death?”

“Never,” Melody smiled. Calum finished the last cords and placed the guitar on the floor next to him. Melody crawled into his lap so she could wrap her arms around his neck in a hug. His large hands patted her small back. “T’ank you!”

“Of course,” Calum patted her back again. All of his friends were amazed at what he’d done. What he didn’t know was Eve had walked down to the music room to tell everyone to close the door, and videoed the entire song. Especially capturing a photo of the two hugging at the end. “Melody, what if I told you I was your daddy?”

Luke’s eyes became wider than saucers; Michael’s mouth dropped to the floor; Ashton dropped his drumsticks from their constant twirls. Eve, standing just outside of the room, covered her mouth with her sleeve. She was beginning to cry.

“Daddy?” Melody asked, letting go and cocking her head. “You’re my daddy?”

Calum nodded his head. His eyes were beginning to become glossy. “I’m your daddy. And those weirdos staring at us - they’re still you’re uncles.”

“I call you daddy?”

“You can call me whatever you want, baby girl,”

Melody hugged Calum tight again. “Daddy!”

-

“Calum! Calum! Calum!” Eve screamed, running out of her room with messy, static hair all over the place, and wearing only a shirt. She bangs on his door, letting him relish in privacy and a surprise wake up call. “Calum!” She screamed again. By that point, Michael, Luke, and Ashton were all awake, running out of their rooms to see what all the commotion was about. Ashton scooped Melody off the floor. “Calum Hood!” Eve screamed once more, ready to bang on his door even more, but she can’t because he pulls the door open with wide eyes and a petrified face. “Calum!”

“What do you want?” Calum asks angrily. Eve shoved her phone into his bare chest. He grabs it and stares at the screen. A video with his name, and a few comments, and . . . Calum’s eyes go wide. “Is this legit?”

“What’s going on?” Luke asked, reaching for the phone. Calum hands it to him, staring at the floor with saucer-sized eyes. Ashton reaches for the phone, but Luke pulls it further towards him to study the screen. “Eve posted the video of Calum singing to Melody on Instagram and-”

“-One-point-five million views,” Calum says with a blank voice. Absolutely stunned. “Overnight.”

-

Ashton checked the time on his watch. “We have five minutes,” Calum took in a shaky deep breath. “Now, we just have to find Melody.” She moved her little legs underneath Calum’s hoodie, that he was also wearing. Her head popped up, hitting Calum in the jaw. “There she is!”

“Don’t you think you should leave daddy alone?” Eve asked with a large smile on his face. “He’s going on stage soon, and I don’t think you want to be on stage while it’s really loud, right?”

Melody began to pout. “But I want daddy!”

“I know you want daddy, but he has to go on stage and sing your song,”

Melody turned her head to look at her father. Calum smiled at her, but she just rolled her eyes. “Make it good, Daddy,”

“I always do, don’t I?”

“Sometimes,” Melody sighed.

Successfully, everyone convinced Melody away from Daddy Calum’s hoodie, as long as she got to wear it. Calum took it off, put it over her head of curls and helped her fit her arms into the holes. He tucked long locks behind her ear and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“You’re the reason I’m here, baby girl,” Calum smiled. He got famous over the video of him singing to Melody, and after posting a few videos of his new band, 5 Seconds Of Summer, singing, they were asked to go on tour. Calum had only his daughter to thank for his song inspiration and joy. She sparked his failed career, with just a simple smile. “Are you ready to go on stage?”

“More than ever!” Melody pounded fists above her head. Calum tickled her armpits and sides, causing his daughter to erupt in giggles. “Remember,” She said through laughter. “It’s Melody, not Mel. I’m famous.”

“Whatever you say, Mel,”

He tickled her again.

A song started their journey on stage- the classic What I Like About You played with an extra-long guitar riff at the beginning, with lights and fire when Luke said the first lyric. The group danced on stage with their guitars, and Ashton hit the drums with such passion, Eve was afraid he’d break them. They quickly turned to their newest song, Valentine, that Calum wrote for Eve. Eve and Melody stood in the wings of the stage, waiting for the end of the song.

Then the time came.

“And we also have some special people to thank for this awesome career!” Calum said into the microphone, pointing in the direction of Eve and Melody. “First up, my oldest daughter, Miss Melody Hood! Can we get a round of applause for her?” Melody swaggered on stage with a little smirk. She’s Calum’s twin. Melody waved her hand and made the motion to be held, but Calum shook his head. “I got a guitar on me, dear, I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t supposed to tell a kid things like that, Hood,” Luke replied. He reached for Calum’s bass, to hold for the time Melody wanted to be in his arms. “Especially when she loves her daddy so very much.”

Calum shook his head and took off his bass. Melody immediately jumped into his arms, wrapping hers around his sweaty body. “Okay and now we have some other people to introduce.” Calum gestured towards Eve. “My other muse, my wife Eve Hood, and our unborn daughter Liberty Hood.”

Eve smiled when Calum hugged her too. This was everything she ever wanted. Calum, Melody, Liberty, and the feeling of being needed. 

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood x oc #oc #dad!calum #dad!cal #michael clifford #calum hood #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #irwin #hood #hemmings #clifford #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood oc #calum hood x mom #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings imagine #calum hood oneshot #calum hood one shot #new persepctive #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin imagine #michael clifford blurb #michael clifford imagine #5 seconds of summer oneshot #5 seconds of summer one shot #5sos oneshot

[twilightofthe]

Tell me ALL your SW faves

Aaaaaa thank you!  This took a while cuz this got long, lol sorry!  Aight, so here’s ALL my SW faves for this ask prompt list!

FAVE MOVIE: Revenge of the Sith.  10000%.  It just has everything!  You get to see the Obikin relationship in all its glory, first and foremost, how much those two loved each other more than anything and knew each other better than anyone, and just how much they genuinely got along and then we got our hearts broken watching them have to fight after Anakin made his Goof Of The Millennium and just oooooof all the feels about my boys!  Seeing Padmé and just loving her so gotdang much for being strong and wanting the best life for everyone, all while she was so scared and had so little support from anyone, and just couldn’t do it in the end.  Seeing the end of the Republic, how after a thousand years, just, *poof*, just like that in like two days (yes, I know Sidious was planning it for over a decade but still), the horrific fascination on how Sidious was able to do that.  Just the brilliance of Sheev’s character, how you despise him, but how brilliantly everything was pulled off.  The angst of Order 66, how especially after TCW you love these characters SO MUCH and then you gotta watch them DIE HORRIBLY BY THOSE THEY TRUSTED, THOSE WHO NEVER HAD A CHOICE EITHER.  Did I mention feeling so freaking bad for Obi Wan and his Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day???  Because I really do, he’s so good and kind and we see his life fall apart and ugh I love him.  And y’all, watching Anakin Skywalker fall from grace like the brightest angel he was, you hate him for what he did, but you still can’t help but love him and cry for him and his loss because he was so good, and he did not deserve all this to happen to him but he did it to HIMSELF AAAAGGHHHH.  Also, Obes and Ani were at peak prettiness this movie!!  Just asdfkjglkdskajsrlk best movie love so diggity dang much

FAVE PAIRING: Oh, how EVER will I choose– Obikin.  It’s Obikin, all the way, no contest.  I know I’ve yelled about it a million and one times so I’ll save y’all the rant on how much I adore these disasters and their relationship and how I think they’re goddamn soulmates and the most interesting dynamic in the entire Saga.  I ship them romantically and platonically and just everything, they’re so fucking important to one another and that’s why it hurts so much to watch them fall apart, and that’s why I’m so incredibly happy that they get to canONICALLY SPEND THEIR ENTIRE AFTERLIFE TOGETHER BECAUSE FORCE GHOSTS HELL YEAH.  If I had to pick just secondary fave romantic and platonic relationships, hmmmm that’s hard.  BUT, I’m gonna have to go with Kanera for romantic; SWR was what got me back into Star Wars and one of my favorite parts of it was watching Kanan and Hera, how much I loved them separately, but just how much they were a team together and I love them and I was unbelievably upset when Jedi Night happened (and I still have a rant about how animated Star Wars kills off their romantic couples in the exact same manner, pls ask me about how TCW’s The Lawless and Rebels’ Jedi Night had basically all of the same plot points that ended in killing off a romantic lead).  For other fave platonic relationship, gonna have to go with Luke/Han/Leia BROT3 (separate from Hanleia as a romance, which is probs my 3rd fave).  These disasters were the original Golden Trio, they saved the galaxy together all while yelling dramatically and having each other’s backs to the bitter end (or, at least ‘till the end of ROTJ lol) and I just love them as a team so dang much

FAVE TV SHOW EPISODE: Okay, since there are four TV shows, it’s only fair for me to pick one (or more don’t judge me) from each!  Let’s see, from The Clone Wars, my fave eps have to be the entire Mortis trilogy arc in S3 because Obes/Ani/Snips family dynamic, Force Shenanigans, BEAUTIFUL scene designs, Anakin angst, just so many good things oof, and also Dooku Captured from S1, which I just adore because Obikin snark, annoying Grandpa Dooku, Hondo Fucking Ohnaka making everyone look so bad at their jobs, I just love it agh.  Whoops that was technically four faves, so gotta do four for Rebels too!  Gonna go wiiiiith World Between Worlds from S4 for Badass Ahsoka Tano, Ezra being brave and talented, Sheev being Absolutely Ridiculous, and just the overall Force Shenanigans cuz canon time travel y’all; The Lost Commanders from S2 because Rex is awesome, Kanan angst, and really good Kanan and Ezra bonding and Jedi awesomeness, Fire Across the Galaxy from S1 because of Ghost fam dynamics, Kanan angst, more Kanan and Ezra bonding, and just good stuff, and Twilight of the Apprentice in S2 (lol what about my username?) for being creepy and cool and maKING ME CRY ANAKIN YOU STUPID THRICE COOKED TOILET SEAT LEAVE AHSOKA ALONE.  *cough*  Ok, fine, I’ll stick with only one ep for the other two series.  For Resistance, gonna have to go with the latest ep, actually!  We get to see Kaz being clever and caring about his fam on the Colossus, really cool designs for Aeos and its people, Tam angst, and just everyone shining!  For The Mandalorian, it’s gotta be the finale, Redemption, we get Din name, Armorer kicking everyones asses and me loving it, BABY YODA DOING THE HAND WAVE, Din getting over his issues with droids and connecting with IG only for IG to FUCKING DIE, DIN AND BABY YODA BEING AN OFFICIAL CLAN OF TWO, Taika just knocking this whole episode out of the park with the funny scouttroopers at the beginning who still deserved the ass-whooping they got for fucking murdering Kuiil and hiTTING BABY YODA YOU SLIMY FUCKNUGGETS–

FAVE CHARACTER: Alright, look, I can narrow it down to FIVE and that is IT.  I just love too many Star Wars characters, I can’t go lower than top five!  Ok, so my four favorites are Obi Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Leia Organa, Kanan Jarrus, and Finn Skywalker-Dameron-Tico (i SAID what i SAID.)  AIGHT so for starters, a lot of my favorite characters in different franchises fall under various archetypes I have for faves.  Obi Wan fits one of my more popular ones: “Old, reluctant and more than slightly-questionable parental badass with a mysterious past that makes you love them all the more when you realize just how beautiful and tragic and deserving-better they were when that past is revealed”.  I latched onto this dude from the start when I just liked the OT (tho Leia was always my fave lol), and I wanted to know about him, and then when I finally started getting into the PT and TCW, it was just a steady stream of “oh no he’s hOT?” “oh no he’s sAD?” “oh no he’s nICE?!? REALLY FUCKING NICE AND A BIT OF A MESS HELP” and then I just totally latched on because he’s hypercompetent at literally everything and looks damn good doing it and boy do I have a thing for competence, charming as all hell and goes through so much and comes out strong despite the fact that fate hates his fucking guts and tries to destroy his life constantly and guys he tries so hard and he’s kind of messy sometimes and a bit of a dick and I love him all the more for it because he’s trying, none of that do-or-do-not shit, he is doing his damn best and deserves happiness and not Anakin tearing him apart.  SPEAKING OF SAND MAN.  Ugh, so I love Anakin to fucking death and that makes me REALLY MAD ABOUT IT BECAUSE HE MAKES EVERYONE ELSE I LIKE SAD.  So I love Anakin regardless because he’s not your typical protagonist.  He’s fucking brilliant, hot when he fights, is amazing at fighting and flying and building stuff and there’s that competence thing for me again, oh boy!  He’s funny and kind and he cares.  And somehow, this bitch manages to have the two most beautiful, amazing people in the galaxy in love with him and willing to do basically anything for him like the fuck?!?  Jealous much??!?!?!?!  I am!!!!  He’s so fucking bright and it’s impossible to look away.  He’s also a dorky, messy disaster who’s not good with people or feelings or emotions and he panics over stuff and doesn’t know self-control and is kinda really bad at his job a lot and pushes away the people who care about him and screws up literally all the fucking time and he always feels like he’s drowning and alone and I get to watch him crash and burn under the weight of it all.  Basically, minus the anger issues and the child murder and the murder in general, I kinda relate a lot to Anakin.  I feel like a self-hating mess who doesn’t know how to control my ow head and the world hates me a lot too.  I can project my mental issues onto him, enjoy the good parts of him, live vicariously through the things he does that I can’t like be loved by pretty people and be hot and athletic and smart, and then when he crashes I can side-eye and remember that at least someone’s doing worse than me lol.  So yea, I love this messy boi to death and he’s the one I get the best characterization reviews on, so I guess we have an understanding.  Leia I loved since as a kid.  I’d want to be her, brave, talented, smart, strong as hell and snarky to boot.  I realize that Leia fits another fave character archetype of mine: “Powerful young adult raised for greatness, did not ask for all the horrible shit that’s happened to them, highkey wants a break and for the bad guys to just roll over and die, is generally clever, hypercompetent, and 100% done with everyone else’s shit, overdramatic as all hell and enjoys insulting people”.  Her and Han were my first Star Wars ship and she just always made me happy seeing her kick names and take ass.  She’s gone through almost as much hell or maybe more so than Obi Wan, she also keeps getting back up and fighting, she deserved SO MUCH BETTER than what the Sequel Trilogy gave her and you may quote me on that.  She’s also gorgeous and I wanted to wear all of her clothes (bikini not included).  I also love her relationship with Luke and I am so goddam happy it is now canon that Leia Organa did Jedi training and can use a lightsaber!!!  She has a lightsaber!!!!!!!!!!  Ugh oof I love her.  Kanan fills the similar “mentor” archetype as Obi Wan does, but with a smidge of youth because he’s younger when he gets dropped into this role.  He’s more of a punk, more of a mess, and oof.  Basically I’ve said it a zillion times how Rebels resparked my love of Star Wars, but really, it was Kanan on the screen that did it.  It happened when the Rebels season 3 premiere eps ended up on the TV and I saw it and I thought in order 1. holy shit that Maul fucker’s actually alive? and 2. Oh no sad blind Jedi man!  He’s cool and mysterious and I want to know why he’s sad and who made him sad and also want to give him a hug!!!  He was my fave character all throughout Rebels and his training dynamic with Ezra, struggling to help this kid all while flying by the seat of his pants because he had Issues and no clue what he was doing and no support and ugh, he was smart and brave and I’m so sad he’s dead and yea.  Finn!!!!  Last but not least!!!!  He was my favorite character from The Force Awakens.  People have said it before, but he was just so new, a rebel Stormtrooper stolen and brainwashed at birth, finding the good guys and fighting to do the right thing!  Possibly Force Sensitive!  Super duper cute!!!  Funny and kind, dammit, when not many other people in the galaxy were!!!!!!!!  I was so, so sure Finn was gonna be a Jedi along with Rey at some point, that might have been my biggest letdown when I saw TLJ, but ugh I just loved his enthusiasm and his war within himself, ultimately loving his friends and trying to do what was right at the risk to his own safety, even though that was why he ran scared in the first place!!!!!  I shipped him with Rey and with Poe and now I am NOT above the post TROS Jedistormpilot shipping!!!!!  Finn was just always the most interesting part of the Sequel Trilogy for me and I personally feel like they could have done more with his character.

FAVE ACTOR/ACTRESS: Aight, so I try my best not to “stan” anyone famous because literally no one is perfect and everyone’s done something problematic at some point and if I dare say I like a famous figure, someone’s gonna find something about them and come after me all “OMG THIS PERSON DID/SAID/IS X YOU MONSTER GO DIE!!11!!1″.  In terms of performance, I think all the actors in Star Wars did a lovely job and I’m happy with all of them!  If I had to crush on any, it would probs be Ewan McGregor, John Boyega, or Diego Luna cuz, uh, they hot.  If I had to pick one I liked most, it would honestly probs be Carrie Fisher.  Maybe that’s just partially from missing her now that she’s gone, but I really admire her advocacy and transparence for mental health, and she just seemed like such a funny, kind, strong person.

FAVE PLANET: Aight, this is HARD and I refuse to only pick one planet!  Ok, gonna start off with Coruscant because an endless city planet made up of lights is amazingly gorgeous and it has a Jedi Temple stacked on top of a Sith Temple and is just so cool aaaaa.  Also love Felucia just for being so bright and colorful and pretty.  Mortis for being just as weirdly gorgeous and also Weird Force Shit.  Lothal for the beautiful mountains, the wolves, and the fucking lightspeed center of the planet passage what, Dathomir is delightfully creepy to look at, Crait is really cool with the salt and the red and the ice foxes, Kashyyyk because Wookiees and it’s pretty and I love their treehouses.  Basically if it makes me clap my dumb monkey hands and go “oooh pretty!”, I love it.  The more “not like Earth” it is, the more I love it.

FAVE SPECIES: Hmmmmm, this is a tough one…….  There’s just so many cool-looking species that we know so little about, ya know?  I wanna say either Togrutas or Wookiees.  Togrutas just because the character design is incredible and so fun to work with and also I love Ahsoka, and Wookiees because they have such an interesting culture and backstory and also I want to give Chewbacca a hug.

FAVE CONCEPT: Uhhh, not quite sure I get the question; you mean like just story concept in general?  If that’s it, I’m gonna have to go with just the whole concept of the Force and the Jedi in general.  I mean George, George my man, what the fuck?  How the hell did you come up with this?!?  Mystical psychic space wizards with magic abilities to connect with and use the sentient godlike life force that combined the entire galaxy together.  Oh and also they have COLORFUL GLOWING LASER SWORDS?!?!?  It’s honestly one of the most creative things I’ve seen in popular culture, and that makes me sad that Star Wars now seems to be trying to separate itself from what I think is its most interesting quality because “ugh not EVERYTHING should be about the Jedi guys!”, when like, y’all, without the Jedi, the entire SW universe is basically just another military scifi war story……  Just my opinion tho.

FAVE SHIP: Ok, since pairing was already up there, I assume this means actual ship?  Well, uh, gonna have to be square with y’all, I’m a bad Star Wars fan for this part; I’ve never been the one to memorize ship names and designs and know the exact make and model number of some fancy ship, I’m real bad at that lol.  I’ll say my favorite ship is the Ghost.  Hera flies it and the Rebels Fam lives on it and it’s super cool and it makes me happy!

FAVE WEAPON: LIGHTSABER.  LIGHTSABER LIGHTSABER.  LIGHTSABERLIGHTSABERLIGHTSABERLIGHTSABERLIGHTSABER.  Y’all, c’mon, what did you think I was gonna pick? xD  Lizard brain want glowy shiny colorful big stick that goes whoosh!

FAVE BACKGROUND EXTRA: Again, not entirely sure what this means, but do you mean fave background character?  If so, then it’s a tie between Wilrow Hood and his ice cream machine for the memes, that one clone in TCW who yeets a plate of toast at Cad Bane’s face, or that one background soldier who scoots between Han and Leia arguing in ESB and also Hera and Kanan arguing in Rebels (yes I do headcanon it’s the same guy lol)

FAVE MOMENT/SCENE: This one’s actually pretty easy.  Anakin dying in Luke’s arms in ROTJ, and then his ghost showing up to Luke later at the Ewok party.  I just care so ridiculously much about stupid Anakin and his stupid story and mistakes, and even before I was a prequels stan and had only seen the OT (and wasn’t a huge Vader fan, believe it or not), some part of me just felt so solemn, so fragile watching this, watching the giant monstrous machine falling apart as he fades away to reveal a weary, tired old human man, and it always made me wonder, what the hell happened to him to turn him into that thing?  Seeing that young, beautiful man, basically Luke’s age, showing up as a ghost later, just the fascination, the tender look he shared with Old Ben, just how young he was, that made it all the more mysterious and knowing what I do now, it’s just so much better because my poor, horrible Disaster Man finally did the right thing and he finally found peace and it’s just the only ending I could be happy for Anakin with,  And Luke, I always felt so bad for Luke, being so strong, so brave, finally getting his father back for like five damn minutes and then having to lose him again and just hurting for him but also knowing that it was gonna be okay because Luke had more family now, the ghosts, and Han and Leia and Chewie and R2 and 3PO and Lando and everyone.

FAVE KISS: Luke and Leia (HANG ON LET ME SPEAK) forehead kiss in The Last Jedi.  I know (this one) isn’t meant as romantic, and I know the question is probs about a romantic one and I know that it’s not even a real mouth kiss.  But.  That Luke and Leia scene was my favorite part of the entire movie.  Again, I was missing Carrie a lot, and ugh, after all these years, after not getting to interact the entire previous movie and not at all during this movie, the ONE scene with Carrie and Mark and the pure emotion of it all just knocked me out of my fucking seat.  You could see how connected they were as siblings, how much Leia had missed Luke, how much he had missed her and how sorry he was for leaving, sorry for Ben, sorry for having to leave her again now, Leia knowing Luke was about to die, and just, acceptance.  Love and acceptance.  It was just a final, tender kiss on the forehead, and it was perfect and yeah.  If I do have to pick a romantic lip smooch, it’s probably the Hanleia classic “scoundrel” kiss in Empire Strikes Back.  I still remember watching ESB the first time as a KID and being all eeeeeeee are they gonna– YES they kissed they kissed they kissed finally! and that’s enough for me.

FAVE FIGHT: Obi Wan and Anakin on Mustafar in Revenge of the Sith.  WIthout question.  It’s brilliantly and precisely choreographed to show the intricate nuances of the Obikin breakup in alllllll of its painful glory.  It breaks my heart every time I watch it because every time I watch it I still hope it’s gonna end differently.  That Anakin realizes he can’t kill Obi Wan and ditches Sidious and goes back with Obi Wan to save Padmé.  That Obi Wan realizes he can’t let Anakin die and saves him from burning and from Sidious and takes him back too.  That Obi Wan at least puts Anakin out of his misery which would be godawful painful, but would save him from the horrid life as Vader.  That while they’re fighting, a lava monster appears like in the concept art and Vader and Obi Wan have to put aside their differences and fight the thing and remember how much they mean to each other.  But ugh, this fight was beautifully choreographed and was originally supposed to be a MULTI-MINUTE SINGLE SHOT WHAT THE HELL???  Oooof Hayden and Ewan did such an amazing job and the whole thing just rips my heart out every time in the bestworst way possible

 FAVE LINE OF DIALOGUE: Now THIS is hard, I’m not the best at picking favorite lines.  Hmmm, this is HARD.  Let me think.  Gahhhh, it’s hard because I have so many lines I like and I can’t even just narrow down a couple!!!  Ultimately, it’s probably gonna be Yoda’s monologue from Empire Strikes Back: “Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter…”  Just that entire line saying how basically all of us are more than the sum of our parts, that everyone is their own sparkling light made of stardust, I loved it as a kid and I love it now. 

FAVE BOOK/COMIC: Answered here

FAVE HERO: Gonna go with Obi Wan!  I already rambled about why I love him, but y’all……. I love him.

FAVE VILLAIN: Anakin Skywalker/Darth McFucking Vader.  I loved him when he was a hero and the silly poor sad boy makes me sad when I see him as a villain all while being an overdramatic asshole and it just makes me wanna hit him with a newspaper for ruining his life and everyone else’s I love him.

FAVE OUTFIT: Answered here

FAVE CREATURE: I love Lothcats/Tookas!  I just heckin’ love cats and now there’s spACE KITTIES WITH SUPER FOOFY TAILS AND BIG EARS OMG Y’ALL I LOVE THEM I JUST REALLY DO AND I REALLY WANT ONE SO I CAN CUDDLE IT ;_;

WHEW.  That was all of the faves, thanks so much for asking me!!!  Sorry this took so long to do, this was kinda a hell week haha!

#asks #star wars #star wars stuff #morai musings #bpdanakins #disaster fam #one (1) hot mess #anakin skywalker #our only ho #obi wan kenobi #team hot mess #princess general badass #leia organa #twin sun #luke skywalker #og space sibs #THE BIGGEST DEAL #finn #space cowboy #kanan jarrus #sw prequels #sw ot #sw og #sw rebels #sw sequels #episode 3

[juhudolia]

“A second prompt in case you don't like the first! This one is for Tony Stark! he's asked to finish a bunch of projects at once and is also sick. He tries to get out of one or two of them but the person thinks he's stalling because of his cold or because he got drunk at an event he had to go to (even though he didn't). Each person who comes to pick up their thing is more concerned, telling him to get some rest as they leave, until the person he tried to cancel on comes and he's a wreck :)”

I got this prompt from @taylortut but kind of messed up when I first posted this, so I had to fill it this way - hope it turned out okay. Here it is: :)

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

“FRIDAY, please pull up the project-list again”, Tony says and wipes his sweaty forehead with a dirty towel. He looks at the long list with a sigh and pinches his forehead with a tight frown. This headache has been going on for far too long and he thinks that he should probably take something for it, but all the meds are in the upstairs bathroom and… that is way too far away.

“Sir, it is apparent that you have developed a low grade fever in the past hour. How shall I proceed? Do you want me to inform Dr. Banner?”

Tony frowns. “What? No. I need to finish this first.”

He knows that it’s probably a bad idea to keep working – given that his lungs are still annoyingly fucked up from the whole arc reactor-dilemma. But he tells himself that it’s not really a big deal. It’s not like it’s physically strenuous or taking or anything. Just some upgrades and new instalments and all of that. He could totally do that with a bit of a temperature.

So he keeps working on bettering Peters suit, because the guy somehow always finds a way to get himself into a situation Tony did not originally plan for… and Tony planned for A LOT of stuff, so he does not really know how the hell the kid does it, but he sure as shit will not take any chances when it comes to Pete’s safety.

He gets so absorbed into his work that he just kinda blocks out everything around him until FRIDAY’s voice startles him out of his workflow.

“Boss, I have to inform you that your temperate has surpassed 100°F – the best course of action would be medicine and rest.”

“Yeah… No time for that.”, Tony mumbles, still distracted from having finally figured out how to somehow incorporate an oxygen tank into the suit. He shivers a bit and asks FRIDAY to turn on the heating, but it turns out that it’s already on. Tony sighs again and wraps his arms around himself. He searches the room for a blanket or something like that and finds an old sweater he throws on before rolling his eyes at himself in annoyance. Why does his body not understand that he does not have time for this? His to-do-list is still offensively long and he refuses to let himself be defeated by something as trivial as a cold.

It’s why he continues updating Peters suit and then Natasha’s knifes, as well as SHIELDS software, through the steadily rising fever and the slowly developing migraine and building nausea.

It’s only when he has to drag himself into the bathroom to throw up the two coffees he had forced into his system that he takes a second to consider his situation. This is a bit bad. And apparently something worse than a cold. Stupid fucking immune system.

He pulls himself up and splashes his face with water before looking at his complexion in the mirror. He looks pale and flushed, but not too horrible, so he thinks it’s safe to call down Natasha and Peter to get their stuff. He expects this illness to get worse fast – because things seem to work like that in his life – so he wants to get human interaction out of the way before that.

“FRIDAY, please tell Nat and Pete to come down to collect their new toys.”, he pants and grimaces right after. His throat is really sore, and he can’t tell if that’s from throwing up or just from the illness forging ahead.

“They are on their way, boss.”

“Thank you, FRI.”, Tony mutters and tries to walk out of the bathroom as gracefully as possible, taking a few deep breaths while he’s at it.

This is still fine. He can totally do this.

Nat and the Spiderkid walk into his lab together, and Nat frowns when she sees him, but does not say anything.

Pete is more expressive. “Jeez, Mr. Stark, you don’t look so good.”

“Thanks.”, Tony mumbles and attempts to change the subject right after. “I finished your stuff. So, yay!”

Nat only raises one eyebrow. “You’re sick.”, she simply says.

“Ouch. When I got you new toys and everything.”, he tries to joke, but no one really laughs. It’s a bit awkward, honestly, so he busies himself with presenting the new gear and weaponry he spent the last hours developing and building.

It is enough to distract his two teammates for the time being. Or at least get them to not question his wellbeing while he is talking.

“Wow, Mr. Stark, that is amazing!”, Peter starts. “Thank you so much! But… I think you should lie down or something. You’re like, really pale.”

“He’s right, you know.”, Natasha adds. “I love the knifes, but you should not risk your health for this.”

“I just wanted to finish your things. I will rest, promise!”, he lies quickly and easily.

Nat looks doubtful, but he ushers them out of his workspace before they can nag him more. Illness has always been a very private affair for him, and he can’t really deal with people worrying about him. Or really, seeing him like that.

When they finally leave, he pulls up his project list again. It’s still way too long, and he takes a shuddering breath. He should probably work on Steve’s suit next. He just returned from a mission and the protectors are all messed up. He should really fix that before they get sent out again.

His head really REALLY hurts now and he is awfully hot. He get’s the sweater off again and pauses for a second, thinking he might get sick again. It’s a false alarm though and he closes his eyes in exhaustion for a couple of seconds. His whole body is starting to get heavy and his mind feels weird and cloudy.

“Sir, your temperature has risen another 3.6°F.”, FRIDAYS voice rings through the lab and he shudders.

This is no longer fine. He is prone to making mistakes when his fever is too high – he had to find this out the hard way – and he does not want any of his teammates to get hurt because of that.

He starts to think that he should actually keep the false promise he gave Nat and the kid and go to sleep. Steve could totally use his spare suit for the time being and the other stuff he has to do is not urgent by any means.

“Fine, FRIDAY, save everything… and dim the lights while you’re at it.”, he sighs and is actually on his way to his bedroom when he bumps into Clint.

“Hey man, just wanted to see how those explosive arrows you promised me are going along.”, is the first thing Clint says and Tony feels his heart speed up and his throat constrict.

“Oh.”, he starts, eloquently. He pauses guiltily. “I have not actually started yet… you see-“

“What? But you said that they would be finished by the weekend – and it’s actually Sunday already.”, Clint complains. Then, he squints at Tony. “Wait a minute – did you drink too much or something yesterday? That why you have not gotten any work done?”

“I- huh? Yesterday?”, Tony stares at Clint in confusion. “I was done here working yesterday… I think.”

Clint scoffs. “Yeah sure – working so hard that you did not actually get anything done? Interesting concept, Stark.”

Tony thinks that he should explain himself. Tell Clint that he DID get a lot done. Just… Just higher priority-stuff. Things that actually were essential. He does not really say anything though and Clint feels validated by that.

“Wow, thought that you were over the whole drinking thing.”

“I am.”, Tony whispered, but Clint did not seem to hear him – or maybe he did not want to hear.

They stare at each other for a second, and then Tony sighs tiredly. “Fine, I will have them finished by noon.”

“Boss-“, FRIDAY pipes up and Tony waves with his hand. “Yeah, no. Mute.”

Clint raises his eyebrows. “Okay Stark – try not to… I don’t know- die of alcohol poisoning or something. You look really bad.”

“Yeah, thanks. Whatever man. Come back in a few hours.”

Clint gets back to… whatever he was doing before – probably chilling in the vents or infiltrating an archery-tournament or something – and Tony somehow manages to drag himself back to his workbench. Everything is really blurry and his whole body seems to pulse and pound.

He really tries to concentrate on the project, but he has to get up to puke three times and when he is done with the last round, his limps won’t cooperate with his brain anymore, which means that he cannot seem to get back up and finish working. He knows that Clint will be like… super mad, but this is all too much.

He hurts and he feels way too cold and disoriented. He whimpers quietly and thinks that he should probably unmute FRIDAY or something. Give her permission to call Bruce.

He is gone before he can even finish that thought.

He wakes up a few hours later to someone shaking his shoulders roughly.

“Jesus Stark, what the hell did you drink yesterday? This is a new low, even for you.”

Clint looks incredibly disappointed and Tony feels his bottom lip tremble dangerously before he just kinda… bursts into tears.

“I’m sorry!”, he sobs. “I tried, I promise. I will finish your… the… your project immediately. Just- just need a second.”

“What the hell? Stark?”

Clint looks confused more than anything and grabs Tony by his shoulders roughly, before he frowns deeply and places one hand on the mechanics forehead.

“Shit, you’re burning up – FRIDAY, what’s his temperature?”

Silence.

“FRIDAY!” Clint waits another couple of seconds before cursing. “What the hell?! Fine, we’re doing it the old-fashioned way then.”

Another pause.

“You still with me? Stark?”

Tony mumbles incoherently and Clint sighs. “Yeah, thought so.”

He stands up to dig through the cabinets while still continuing to talk. “This is stupid, you know. Totally avoidable too. Don’t know why you always choose the most melodramatic way possible to do stuff.”

“M’sorry.”, Tony whimpers, curling more into himself and Clint sighs. “Don’t apologize, you idiot. This is clearly my fault. Just trying to make myself feel better here.”

Clint’s hand finally curls around the fever thermometer then and he kneels down next to Tony. “Open up, Stark.”

They wait in tense silence. Then, it beeps. “Oh sh- Tony, I don’t know-“, Clint stutters. The mechanics temperature is way, WAY too high and Clint feels like he should not leave him alone, but he also knows that he should get Bruce.

“FRIDAY?”, he tries again, and lets out a desperate huff of annoyance.

“S’ muted.”, Tony slurs. “’M really sorry.”

“Stop apologizing please, or else I’m gonna start crying too.” Clint’s voice is a few octaves higher than normal. “FRIDAY, unmute – emergency protocol 4m3r1c45445”

Nothing happens, and Clint tries not to scream in frustration. “455.”, Tony mumbles. “S’ 455.”

“Fucking hell man! FRIDAY, emergency protocol 4m3r1c45455.”

“Agent Barton, what can I do for you?”

Clint tightens his grip on Tony’s shoulder´. “Please get Bruce down here. And tell someone to bring Tylenol or whatever he needs.”

“Clint?”, Tony slurs then. “’M so sorry… Not finished with… the thing… your- I-“

Tony squeezes his eyes shut in concentration and a few tears leak out.

“Yeah, I’m still pretty sure that I’m the bad guy here. Please just focus on resting, yeah?”

Tony seems to consider that for a moment. “Yeah… K. Sounds nice.”

The exhausted man closes his eyes and Clint hopes that this is the right course of  action.

When Bruce and Steve burst into the room a minute or so later, he feels like he can actually breathe again.

“Thank god! Bruce he’s-“

“FRIDAY told me.”, Bruce barks. “Get his clothes off and get him into the tub!”

So the three of them hold a trashing Tony upright while the lukewarm water cools down his overheated body. After that, Steve get’s Tony to swallow some pills and then carries him to his bed. They all feel as exhausted as Tony looks when the whole, scary ordeal is over.

Clint is concerned about is teammate, but mostly mad at himself. He managed to glance at Tony’s to-do-list when they were finished with making sure that the mechanics brain would not spontaneously burst into flames or something like that, and the guy actually seemed to have gone on some sort of mad work binge in the past week – that did nothing to make Clint feel better. He really, really fucked up and he was going to make sure that something like this would never ever happen again.

Tony’s fever breaks three days later and he wakes up to Clint sitting in a chair next to his bed, playing video games on a Nintendo.

“Wha-…?”

“Oh, you’re awake!”

“The arrows.!”, is the first thing Tony gasps and Clint sighs.

“We’ve been over the like a hundred times in the past days Stark. It’s all cool. I just want you to rest, yeah?”

Tony frowns. “But… all the projects. I need to… I have to-“

“Nah, pretty sure your only task is to get better. You scared the hell out of us man.” Clint pauses. “How are you feeling?”

Tony stares down at the blanket that is covering him awkwardly. “Better, I think.”

“Good. Better is good.”, Clint nods. “Now please try to stay awake for more than five seconds while I get you something to drink.”

Tony swallows. His throat is parched and he smiles weakly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

#tony stark #sick tony #sickfic #tony whump #tony & clint friendship #prompt fill #prompts #the avengers #marvel #clint barton #peter parker #natasha romanoff

[mst3kproject]

1107: The Land that Time Forgot

Watching the opening credits of this actually made me do a double-take – the name Colin Farrell appeared on the screen and I was like, wait, what the fuck?  Wouldn’t he have been like two years old?  Well, I looked it up and learned that I was wrong: The Land that Time Forgot was made in 1975, and the Colin Farrell I was thinking of wasn’t even born until a year later.  At least that woke me up.

It’s World War I, and a passenger ship is torpedoed by a German submarine.  The only survivors are a few sailors, Doug McClure, and a Dr. Lisa Clayton who serves as the movie’s designated pretty girl.  The nearest thing to rescue in sight is the submarine itself when it surfaces a few hours later – so they climb aboard, storm the hatch, and take over the ship.  At first it seems that all they have to do now is head for home, but they soon learn that the Germans have sabotaged the compass.  They’ve come ashore instead at the mysterious lost continent of Caprona. Naturally this is a land of cavemen and dinosaurs, and in order to escape the British and the Germans must put aside their differences and work together.  Only then will they be able to get back to the real world and resume shooting at each other.

While At the Earth’s Core comes across as a movie nobody gave a much of a shit about, there are places where The Land that Time Forgot is surprisingly artful and well-made.  In particular the first half-hour has several very nice moments in it, especially in the way it uses sound.  After the opening credits, the music totally vanishes for a third of the film.  The only background sounds are the lapping of waves and the creaking of the submarine, which makes gunshots and explosions all the more jarring when they happen.  It also makes this part of the movie seem very grounded and real, which contrasts with the more fantastical stuff that happens in Caprona.  The first sight of the Capronan cliffs is accompanied by the return of the soundtrack, which ushers us out of this more real world and into the fantasy beyond.

I feel like if Amicus had just set out to make a suspense movie about WWI submarines, a sort of early-20th-century Balance of Terror, they could have done a pretty fair job.  Several scenes, such as when the characters are all sitting in the dinghy waiting for the sub to surface, or when they’re diving to escape the British ship firing on them and aren’t sure if the hull will hold, are very effective indeed. The interior of the sub is an appropriately creepy and claustrophobic place, and details like the slight swinging of the lamp in the captain’s office remind us that we’re at sea.  The miniature sub surfacing, with water pouring off it, looks lovely.  The giant squid that passes by them un-noticed in the dark is my favourite ‘creature’ moment.

Unfortunately, there’s also stuff that sucks.  What ought to be the ‘action’ sequences are just a bunch of guys in very similar jackets and sweaters punching each other in the fog, and you can’t tell who’s who or which side is winning.  The conversation between the captain and Dr. Clayton attempts to make the point that when your country’s at war it’s impossible to ‘stay out of it’ no matter how much of a pacifist you, personally, may be, but it’s too heavy-handed to work properly… though I do like how the two of them are able to bond over a shared interest in biology.  I have no idea what happened in the tunnel that damaged the submarine, because the exterior shots are just blackness with a few rocks.

Then we hit the dinosaurs.  These are honestly fairly impressive for the time the film was made.  We don’t get a good first impression, as the first ones we get a good look at are three completely stiff pterodactyls circling like they’re hanging from a baby’s mobile.  The rest are puppets, stop motion, and animatronics, and the people who decided which technique to use for which shot had a good grasp of what each is best at.  The greenscreen work is sometimes crummy but there are some lovely matte paintings, and for the most part the effects here are good enough to tell the story without being distracting.  There’s even some attempt to portray the dinosaurs as animals with behaviours, rather than monsters that exist only to menace the humans.

So I actually have quite a bit of praise for this movie.  That’s not what my blog is about, though.  This blog is about movies that suck, so let’s look at the bad parts of The Land that Time Forgot.

Well, there’s the standard stuff.  The day-for-night is bright enough that it was obviously shot in the daytime while still being dark enough that you can’t tell what’s going on. The human inhabitants of Caprona are stupid cartoon Neanderthals with dark makeup on their faces but not their arms and legs, who become whiter and whiter as they move up the evolutionary scale. The motion of the dinosaurs may be pretty good but the design of them is ugly and lumpy, with far too many teeth even on the herbivores.  This is partly because we didn’t know nearly as much about dinosaurs in the seventies, but the movie’s fat carnosaurs with their lizard-like heads would have been ugly and inaccurate in the thirties.  Compare them, for example, to Charles R. Knight’s Tyrannosaurus and Triceratops from freaking 1927.

Many ‘lost world’ scenarios will simply present us with t-rex fighting a saber-toothed tiger and expect us not to question it.  The Land that Time Forgot gives us an reason of sorts for its mixing of geological eras, but not one that makes any sense.  From Om’s conviction that he will become a ‘Stolu’ and Dr. Clayton’s explanation of what’s going on in the giant coconut hot tub, we gather that each individual organism on Caprona evolves from a single cell to a complex being, following the entire history of its species’ evolution.  This appears to have been inspired by the fact that embryos ‘evolve’ as they develop, going through phases in which they have things like gills before losing them.  The phenomenon, called 'recapitulation', was considered one of the original pieces of evidence for evolution and I guess I can accept how they use it here.  The problem is that the movie refuses to state it clearly, which gives the impression that the writers were kind of embarrassed by the idea.

The biggest problem with two-thirds of The Land that Time Forgot is that once the characters reach Caprona, the story more or less comes to a screeching halt.  The parts set on the submarine were quite tightly-focused.  Now we are technically still seeing the same story, as they try to find fuel in order to get them back to civilization, but we also stop for long sequences of people climbing hills and dinosaurs wandering around in the dark, or pointless arguments between the British and German sailors.  In a dinosaur movie we obviously need a little bit of people standing around going oooooh and aaaaah, but they go about it all wrong here.

Then there’s the ending, which quite literally destroys everything we’ve seen so far.  The characters are on the verge of saving the damsel in distress, escaping the island, and celebrating the power of international cooperation, and then at the last minute the volcano erupts and it all goes to hell.  A volcano erupting at the end of a movie that is not about a volcano erupting will always be a deus ex machina, because there’s nothing characters can do to cause or prevent it – it’s never anything but a coincidence.  The need to escape prompts the Germans to turn on the British and try to leave without Dr. Clayton and Doug McClure, and their karmic punishment is to be cooked to death by volcanic gases in their own submarine.  Clayton and McClure are left behind on the shore while everything around them catches fire. This doesn’t feel like a conclusion to the story we’ve just seen.  It feels more like somebody just really hates happy endings, and ripped one out from under us at the last moment.

There are a few things in this movie that could have counted as thematic material if anyone had cared, but nothing is ever done with any of them. Om is a ‘bolu’, a lower order of cavemen, and he never seems to notice Dr. Clayton, nor do the slightly higher ‘stolu’.  It is the ‘golu’, the most human-like of them all, who attempt to kidnap and rape her. I doubt this was an attempt to say anything about human nature.  It seems to have been done that way just because it wasn’t yet time for Dr. Clayton to be in peril until the climax of the film.

Likewise, Jonah and the bots comment on the fact that this is a movie about Europeans coming to a new country, shooting the inhabitants, and generally making a mess as they search for petroleum.  Within the story this is not a colonial urge, as the characters have no plans to settle, but a matter of life and death, and again it seems like nobody thought very deeply about it.  It was just a thing that needed to happen to make the plot work.

Enough went right in this movie that the things which went wrong really do become a terrible shame.  A great deal of effort seems to have gone into just about everything, but a few poor writing choices mean that the result is not very good, yet not bad enough to be enjoyed on that level either.  If I were contemplating this as a potential Episode that Never Was, I honestly think I would have decided against it.  It just doesn’t have the kind of personality I associate with a good MST3K movie.

#mst3k #reviews #the land that time forgot #tw: rape #70s #curiously caucasian cavepeople

[changingourdestiny]

Fictober Day 19: The Wolves and the Phoenix

Prompt number: 19. “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”

Fandom (AU if applicable): Destiny (Changing Our Destiny Fan-Series)

Rating: M (Destiny is rated PEGI 16)

Warnings/Tags: Mild language, violence

Let’s go hunt some wolves! Upon request of Petra and the Queen, Fireteam Paralight set off to hunt the ‘Kell of Kells’ while being lead by…Blaze?

—

‘Attention, Guardians. This is Petra Venj of the Awoken Royal Guard. Multiple bounties have been issued on key Fallen targets. The Reef is now open to you.’

 “Y’know, if you told me 8 months ago that the Queen would open the Reef to the Guardians of all people, I would have literally laughed in your face.”

Three jumpships soared through the stars as they entered the Reef. “By the way, Adam. We’ll be working with Petra, so don’t get distracted by making lovey-dovey eyes at her, yeah?” Blaze laughed, followed by an agitated exhale from Adam’s comm. “I can’t believe it either.” Rae added before chuckling, “Blaze, don’t hate me, but I wonder what Uldren’s reaction was to the Queen opening the Reef to all Guardians. My guess is…” Rae then began to do an Uldren impression, “‘Sister, I respect your wishes, but what am I to do with all these Guardians? I can’t possibly sass them all! I would-’”

“Guardian.”

A familiar – and slightly agitated – voice come through the comms, taking Rae by surprise. “GYAH! Prince Uldren! Uhh…I can explain?”

Rae heard Blaze burst into laughter on her comm followed by a sigh from Uldren, “See you on the ground, Blaze.”

Rae sighed, “Why me..?”

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes!” Blaze snickered.

 ———————————————————————

 “Aaand we’re here!”

Rae, Adam and Blaze arrived on the Vestian Outpost. “I’m gonna go see what Uldren wanted to talk about.” Blaze spoke up, heading towards the throne room, “You guys good to go get the briefing from Petra?”

“Me, yep.” Rae began, “Not sure about Adam though.” Adam’s face went red and punched Rae in the shoulder. “Ow! Hey, I was kidding!” Rae chuckled. Blaze laughed as she left for the throne room while Rae and Adam headed to Petra’s post. Petra was staring at a screen before noticing the two Guardians approaching, “Ah! Welcome back to the Vestian Outpost, Guardians. We’re gonna hunt some Wolves together.”

“Sounds fun.” Rae smiled, “So what’s the mission?”

“Variks tracked the House of Wolves and their Kells to Venus. Let’s get to work.”

“Alright. I have a feeling we’ll be running into angry Vex – they’re still ticked about the Black Garden incident – so we’ll need-”

“Actually, the Queen told me to give you a request if you accepted the mission.” Petra interrupted, “Well, more like an order, really. She wants Blaisel Kiria to lead the mission.”

“…Blaze. The Queen wants Blaze – our Blaze, impulsive, reckless, doesn’t-like-strategies Blaze – to lead the mission?” Rae asked in disbelief.

“The Queen said she’d feel more comfortable if someone she knew and trusted was in charge.” Petra replied, “Say what you will about Blaze but from what I’ve heard, she was one of the best soldiers back in her Reef days-”

“RAEADAMPETRAGUYSHOLYLIGHTDIDYOUHEARHOLYSMOKESI’MGONNAFLIPAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

The conversation was interrupted by the loud voice of an extremely excited Hunter as Blaze came bounding into the outpost towards the group. “Let me guess.” Rae began, “Uldren told you who’s leading the mission.”

Blaze nodded excitedly, practically bouncing with excitement. Rae sighed, “Traveller, help us…”

 ———————————————————————

 “Whoo!! Yahoo!! Yeehaw!!!”

“I HATE THIS!!!”

Blaze whooped and cheered as she jumped across the appearing and disappearing platforms of the Terminus, followed by a panicking Rae and Adam. Rae, thankfully, was able to glide between platforms but Adam was having a bit of difficulty getting through, occasionally barely making it on and off platforms. “Oh, come on! This is fun!” Blaze called behind her as she landed on one of the permanent platforms, “Besides, we need to get hyped up! We’re moments away to stopping Skol-ass for good.”

“Wow, such an original joke.” Uldren chuckled through the comms. “Oh, as if you can make a better one!” Blaze rolled her eyes playfully as Rae and Adam caught up. “Hey. Save the flirting for later!” Rae lightly scolded. “Ah-ah, Guardian. Who’s the leader of this mission?” Rae could the smirk in Uldren’s voice as she sighed in frustration. “The Crow’s and I are inbound.” Petra interrupted the banter. “Roger that.” Blaze replied, “See you soon, P.”

 The three Guardians scaled the large platform when Rae let out a cry of surprise. Blaze spun around to see a group of Fallen appear out of nowhere, “What the-?! Where’d they come from?!”

“Guardians!” Petra’s slightly panicked voice rung through the comms, “There are dozens of new Wolf signatures, and the number keeps growing. It’s the Vex tech!”

“I got eyes on the target!” Rae called out, pointing to Skolas who was standing by Vex gates that were practically spewing out Fallen. “Skolas!” Petra exclaimed, “He’s pulling the entire House of Wolves through time!” Blaze cursed under her breath. “Damn…we can’t take on Skolas and all of these Eliksni at the same time…” she muttered before calling out, “Petra, get yourself and the Crows here ASAP! I don’t know if we can take down these Wolves on our own.” Blaze then turned her attention to Rae and Adam, “You two, destroy the gates immediately. The longer they’re active, the more Eliksni will show up. I’ll go after Skolas.”

“What?!” Rae exclaimed, “Blaze, I know you’re the leader for this mission, but that’s insa-!”

“Hey!” Blaze yelled, taking Rae aback, before smirking, “I may not listen to your plans every time, but I always have faith that whatever mess we end up in, you’ll find a way to bring us out victorious. That’s not just faith I have in you as a leader, but as a friend. So now I need you to have faith in me, Rae-Rae.”

That’s when Rae saw it. This wasn’t the usual ‘cocky, impulsive Blaze’ smirk. This was something different. This was the Blaze that Petra described; a strong, determined and calculated Blaze that knew what she was doing. Rae was silent before smiling, “Alright. I’ve faith in you.”

Blaze gave a nod before yelling out, “Fireteam Paralight, engage!!!”

 Rae and Adam sprinted for the gates, striking down whatever Fallen got in their way, as Blaze headed straight for Skolas, “Oi, ugly! I’m over here!” Skolas spotted the Awoken Hunter and yelled out something in Eliksni. “He just said, ‘Foolish child.” Variks began, translating Skolas’s words, “I stole the gift of Freedom. Secrets of time and space. House of Wolves will stand forever.’”

“He has nowhere left to run!” Petra added, “Take him down!”

“Gladly!” Blaze smirked. Blaze scaled up a tower before doing a backflip over Skolas, firing shots at the Kell as she flew, before landing perfectly. She ducked behind cover as she reloaded her hand cannon and called through her comm, “How’re those gates coming along?”

“Adam just finished the second-last one!” Rae replied, “I’m still working on the last one, but these Servitors won’t leave me alone!”

“Adam, go provide Rae with backup! Petra, what’s your ETA?”

“Not much longer now.” Petra responded.

“You better hurry! You’re missing the party!”

Blaze went to jump out of cover and engage Skolas when-

*WHAM!!!* “ACK!!!” “BLAZE!!!”

Blaze felt the wind get knocked out of her lungs as Skolas pinned her against the wall by the throat and crushed her hand cannon, which had fallen out of her grasp, under his foot. Blaze frantically clawed at his grip but to no avail. Rae and Adam, who had just finished taking down the last gate, tried to make their way to Rae, but the Fallen kept getting in their way. Blaze kept trying to break out of Skolas’s grip as the Kell kept choking her. Skolas chuckled darkly as Blaze began gasping for air…

 …until he felt his hands getting warm…

 …then hot…

 …then scorching…

 Skolas’s eyes went wide as he suddenly let go of the Awoken, holding his burning hand. Skolas went to glare at Blaze but took a step back in fear at what he saw. Blaze’s body slowly began to catch fire as she looked up at Skolas with a malicious grin. “You wanna play dirty…alright…

…LeT’s PlAy DiRtY!!!”

The fiery wings sprouted from her back as Blaze fully catches fire and tackles Skolas, clawing at him and leaving burn marks on him. Skolas let out ear-splitting yells of pain, as Rae, Adam, and even some of the Fallen, looked on in horror. “Is that…?” Petra gasped. “Blaze’s power.” Uldren finished, “She erupts into flames when she would become enraged…but she doesn’t seem enraged this time…maybe those Guardians were able to do some good after all.” Uldren muttered the last part.

 Skolas crumpled to the ground, Blaze standing in front of him, as the remaining Fallen retreated. “Listen here, ‘Kell of Kells’.” She growled, “If I EVER hear about you or any of your Wolf or Kell buddies betraying my home, I will personally ensure that you all burn in hellfire.”

“The House of Wolves is broken!” Petra announced, “Stand by for a transmission.”

“Transmission?” Rae raised an eyebrow before the familiar voice of Mara Sov came through the comms.

“This is Mara Sov, Queen of the Awoken. Guardians, when you first came in search of the Black Garden, I thought of you as just more Motes of Light, too far from their Traveller. I see now that I was wrong. Accept my thanks, and the promise of a fitting reward. Petra, bring Skolas to me!”

As Skolas was transmatted onto a nearby ship, Petra hopped back on comms, “Capture confirmed. I almost feel sorry for Skolas here. Conversations with the Queen can be…harsh. Anyway. I'll meet you back at the Reef…with your reward.”

Suddenly, Uldren’s voice rang through the comms, “Guardians, listen closely because I will never say this again…but good work. Not just with Skolas…but when Blaze was with the Guard, I was only able to teach her how to weaponize her temper…but you were able to help her to use her powers without using her temper…and she has found a place where she can feel at home...where she’s respected for herself. If you value your Light, you best never upset or betray her or you will have me to deal with, am I clear?”

“Crystal.” Rae replied.

“Good. See you at the Reef, Paralight.”

Blaze fell onto the ground with a sigh, before letting out a chuckle, “Heh…heheh…see? Told you I’d lead us to victory!”

“Yes, I admit it, you were right.” Rae laughed as she helped the still-warm Awoken to her feet, “Now let’s get back to the Reef. We have a reward to claim.”

“Hey! The mission isn’t over YET! I’m still the leader!”

“Haha! Alright, alright. Lead the way, fearless leader!”

#fictober19 #fireteam paralight #rae drakyx #blaze kiria #adam bergfalk #Petra Venj #destiny petra #variks the loyal #variks #uldren sov #prince uldren #queen mara #mara sov #skolas #eliksni #fallen #destiny fallen #house of wolves #destiny #Changing our Destiny

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And here we go again!! Another cross on my @badthingshappenbingo!!

I’ve gotten some prompts and I’ll definitely get to them, I just started this thing like ages ago, it took me so long to write and it’s became quite the monstrosity and I really just want it to get it out here.. Feel free to request anything from those lovely prompts!

Fandom: Timeless

Pairing: Garcy

Prompt: Pneumonia

„What the hell is taking so long?!”, Wyatt kicked against the metal staircase leading up to the Lifeboat’s entrance.

Emma had jumped again, this time into 1919, and Lucy suspected she planned to meddle with the Treaty of Versailles. Agent Christopher had ordered Wyatt, Rufus, Lucy and Flynn to go. Two soldiers because Paris would be crawling with police and nobody felt comfortable sending Jiya away after she’d just spent three years in the 19th century.

The only one they were waiting for was Flynn.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon”, Lucy tried to calm him. It wasn’t like Flynn to be late, in fact he usually was the one waiting for them. “I’ll go get him.”

Wyatt grunted and Jiya shot Lucy a meaningful look, but she ignored both of them. Worry had been gnawing on her insides since the night before, when she had gone to his room seeking solace for her troubled thoughts. He hadn’t answered his door, and at first, she had thought he was messing with her, but upon letting herself into the room she had found him already asleep.

While unusual, Lucy had written it off to exhaustion. After saving Rufus, Emma and Jessica had sent them on a hunt across centuries and continents, barely granting them any time to breathe. Lucy herself was bone tired, but Flynn (and also Wyatt for that matter) took on most of the physical work, so he was probably trying to get every second of sleep he was granted.

Lucy had been able to quiet her worries then and had managed to get a full night of rest herself, but they had come back in the morning when the rest of the bunker had breakfast together and Flynn remained to be seen, despite being an extraordinary early bird. It needed until lunch for him to make an appearance, but even then, he was taciturn and grumpy.

“There you are!”

She met him only one step out of the kitchen area.

“Huh? Yeah, sorry, needed to get some spare ammo”, he pulled on his jacket, the modern one, they’d steal some time appropriate wardrobe once they arrived in 1919, and passed her without so much as a look.

“Finally”, Wyatt groaned when they got the Lifeboat.

“We’re on a schedule here, Flynn.” Agent Christopher gave him a stern look, but just like Lucy she got ignored. He passed her with long strides and vanished into the Lifeboat after Wyatt.

“Is, uh, is he alright?”, Rufus asked, “’Cause I know what his good days look like and I really don’t want to be in Paris in 1919 when he has a bad day.”

“He’ll be okay”, Lucy gave Rufus an encouraging smile and followed him to the staircase, “Or at least I hope so.”

Traveling with the Lifeboat was always ruff on Flynn. Apparently, the Mothership was a much more comfortable way to get through time, something like the cruise liner of time machines.

Usually, he needed somewhere from five to ten minutes to get his bearings after the landing, sometimes it was worse, depending on how long and what he ate before the jump, you know the drill.

Lucy was glad for some extra time to take a breath before actually starting the mission, and she knew Wyatt was too, although he’d never say so in front of Flynn. The only one who seemed comfortable with this sort of transportation was Rufus.

This time however, it was worse. Rufus and Lucy had managed to get them clothes and Wyatt had secured the area at the outskirts of Paris and Flynn had yet to emerge from the bushes he vanished into after the landing.

“Flynn? Are you okay?”, Lucy tentatively took a few steps closer and was greeted by the sound of dry heaving, accompanied by heavy, rattling coughs.

She wasn’t a big fan of seeing puke or any bodily fluids, but Flynn really didn’t sound like he was okay.

“Flynn?”

“Would you give me a damn minute?!”

Lucy didn’t pay his angry call any notice and stumbled her way through the bushes until she found him, on his hands and knees, breathing heavily.

“I told you to leave me alone”, he sighed sitting back with his face up to the sky. Flynn was pale, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple changed its direction due to the different angle and rolled into his hair.

“You didn’t, actually”, Lucy sat down beside him, trying not to get tangled up in her skirt while doing so. “You’re not okay. You should have stayed at the bunker.”

“I’m fine, Lucy. And I don’t really see that happening, Emma is still on her warpath and with Wyatt being tangled up in this mess as he is you need a soldier who’s actually able to do his job.”

He stood in one fluid motion, there was no swaying or stumbling as he held out his hand to help her up.

“Are you? Able to do your job?”, he narrowed his eyes at that, defensively, but Lucy didn’t back down. He was right, Emma was more determined to get them out of the way than ever and Wyatt wasn’t able to make objective decisions when Jessica was involved. They needed Flynn and he couldn’t allow himself any slipups, not when a mistake could easily end with one of them dead.

“When am I not?”

 Flynn kept his word, he always did. The mission went without so much as a hitch, maybe not entirely successful since Emma was able to escape, but history stayed pretty much the same. The authorities of 1919’s Paris had only to deal with the unidentifiable bodies of sleeper agents, unlike they had to in the original timeline.

He managed to keep it together, to stay upright and walking until they reached the Lifeboat, but then Flynn crashed spectacularly. His head was reeling, this damn collar and the tie were too tight for him to breathe properly and whole ensemble was so hot he felt like he was suffocating.

Somehow, he reached his seat, but only to fall forward and to press the heels of his hands to his eyes. Why wouldn’t everything stop spinning?!

“Hey, Flynn, are you alright, man?”

If he got a dollar every time someone asked him that, he’d have enough money to build his own time machine.

He grumbled in response to Rufus concerned question, but it was Lucy who provided an actual answer.

“I think, he’s running a fever. He really shouldn’t have come with us”, there was a pause and some shuffling, Flynn didn’t bother enough to look up. There was a rushing in his ears now and he felt another coughing fit coming by the way his lungs constricted.

“Flynn? Uh, Gar-Garcia? Do you want some water?”

Lucy carefully put her hand on his shoulder, a featherlight touch he didn’t even register because his body shook with suppressed coughs. Flynn pushed himself out of his seat again and stumbled to the Lifeboat’s entrance, desperate for some fresh air and not wanting to infect the rest of the team with whatever ancient disease he’d caught with his coughing.

With his luck, it was probably tuberculosis. Or the plague.

The fit lasted a few minutes, it got so far that Flynn found himself retching again. When it finally was over, the world was still spinning but the breaths came a little easier. Lucy handed him a bottle with water and after he rinsed and then took a few sips, he staggered back to his seat.

“You think you can handle the trip back without puking all over the backseat?”, Rufus asked jokingly, but, truth to be told, neither of them wanted to know what would happen if either of them expelled the contents of their stomachs mid-flight.

Flynn made a vague gesture in Rufus’ direction, giving his okay for lift off after he fumbled his seat belt close. Then he let his head drop against the seat, closing his eyes and thus ignoring Lucy’s worried looks and Wyatt’s pointed glares.

 “How did it go?”

“Emma escaped again, but we could prevent her from blowing up the meeting. And we need a doctor”, Lucy carefully climbed down the staircase followed by Wyatt.

“Did somebody get hurt? Is Rufus okay?”, ever since they brought Rufus back, Jiya was even more on edge when they left for missions

“I’m fine, Jiya. But Flynn is sick”, Rufus was the last one to step out of the Lifeboat, hands unsurely hovering behind his colleague in case he should fall.

But Flynn stubbornly made his way down the steps and headed for the bedrooms, when Agent Christopher planted herself in front of him.

“I don’t need a doctor.”

He tried to stare her down, but Denise only raised an unimpressed eyebrow. He really wasn’t at his usual level of threatening, with glassy eyes, pale skin and an overall posture that screamed ‘Please, let me go to bed’.

She reached up to feel his skin, but he painfully flinched away from her touch.

“It’s not bad, just a cold or som-“, his feeble try to escape her examination ended in another coughing fit. He turned away and buried his face in the crook of his elbow, trying to will the coughs to stop, but soon he was doubled over, desperately gasping for air as dry coughs kept on tearing at his throat.

“Okay, okay, uuh… You probably should sit down”, Lucy came up beside him, hands fluttering helplessly over his shoulders until she just gripped his arm and carefully guided him to the ground. “Deep breaths, ju-just try to breathe.”

Flynn slumped to the ground, the coughing finally subsiding. He was panting, a little groan escaped his lips as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on his knees.

“I’m getting a doctor and medicine, get him to his room”, Agent Christopher ordered, already on the phone.

“I don’t-“

“That’s not up for discussion!”

 Flynn was wrong in two things. First, he really needed a doctor because, second, he didn’t just catch a cold, but wounded up with pneumonia instead.

The doctor had left the bunker with the instructions to keep Flynn in his bed and get him to take his medicine, have lots of fluids and a light diet. Lucy made it her obligation to oversee him carrying out the doctor’s instructions.

Which was why she spent a lot of time in his room (meaning more time than usually).

He was sleeping when Lucy joined him again after getting a snack for herself, curled up under the flimsy blanket and, for the first time ever, Lucy thought he looked small.

It was a disconcerting thought, Flynn looking small. He wasn’t imposing, not if he didn’t want to, and despite the bunker being tiny and dark, Lucy never felt crowded when she was in a room with him. He was more like a steady presence, comforting and assuring.

A quiet noise stopped her train of thought, Flynn was clutching his blanket and pulled it tighter around his shivering form. The bunker was always chilly, but it was only early evening. The real cold that made Rufus and Jiya cling to each other in their bed and Lucy seek out company, it only came at night.

Lucy leaned over him and moved to feel his temperature on his forehead but remembered how he flinched when Denise wanted to touch him earlier. Her hand hovered unsure for a few seconds, before she pressed her fingers softly against the prominent cheekbone.

It wasn’t enough to wake him, but he winced anyways and turned away, buried his face in his pillow. His skin was hot to her touch, and its pale color made him look almost ghostly.

She couldn’t stop her sigh and was nearly unable to not brush a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. How long has it been since the last time he had felt a friendly touch? Not violence but love directed at him? Lucy didn’t want to think four years, not since Lorena and Iris, but it was what came to her mind.

It was not fair. Lucy did think he was a monster, yes, at first, but it only lasted until she had finally learned the truth. About Rittenhouse and his family, how they had taken everything dear to him, hunted him and made him think the only way he could stand up to them, the only way he could fight them was with even more violence.

There was a voice at the back of her mind that asked if it wasn’t Lucy’s fault he terminatored his way through time. After all, it had been her journal that had sent him on this trip, she had given it to him and promised they would fight together and then had let him down over and over again, had pushed him away, called him a murderer and finally had gotten him arrested. The voice sounded suspiciously much like her mother.

But she knew there was another side to Garcia Flynn. The sadness and sorrow that made his shoulders bow and kept him in his room for hours, soft smiles and bad jokes, the insecurity, self-loathing and guilt that held him prisoner in his own mind; coffees in the morning and the tug on the bottle of vodka when Lucy had enough, the soft touches when he held her after Emma, the way he guided her down the stairs after Salem.

Garcia Flynn wasn’t a man without fault, far from it, but he didn’t deserve all the shit life threw on him either.

“Lucy?”

She startled upon hearing his scratchy voice calling out. Flynn was awake, looking at her with tired eyes.

“Hey”, she did touch him now, gripped his shoulder and helped him sitting up, didn’t let go of the cup of water when his shaky fingers lifted to his mouth, letting their hands touch.

“You don’t have to do this”, Flynn said after he settled back against his pillow.

“What? Helping you? Staying with you?”

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. Lucy noticed how he fidgeted with his wedding ring. A tell, he was uncomfortable, she just wasn’t sure why. Because he was forced to show weakness? Because she was a witness to it?

“You don’t have to be here.”

He thought she didn’t want to be with him?

“What are you talking about? You’re sick and I’m here to help. End of story”, it came out a little more forceful than she intended, but maybe it helped to get the message through.

“I saw you”, he confessed, only she wasn’t sure what. “With Wyatt, before-“

Oh. Oh.

“I don’t give a damn about Wyatt. Not right now. I’m here because I want to be, because I want you to get better”, she switched from the chair to bed, perched herself up on the edge, “Is it that hard to believe?”

Now she dared to do it, she actually pushed the strand of hair our of his face, let her fingers trail down the side of his face and then cupped his cheek. He stared at her with wide, glassy eyes, and Lucy didn’t think he dared to breathe. It may have been the fever that made his eyes so shiny, but she wasn’t sure. He looked at her like she hung the moon, like she was his reason to live, so utterly devoted to her that she wanted to cry.

“I-“, Lucy started, the same moment Flynn decided to breathe again. His lungs weren’t to grateful to be deprived of what reduced amount of oxygen they were getting, and Lucy could hear the hitch.

It took minutes, it was cruel, and Lucy could only stand beside him and rub his back while the coughs ripped through his body, produced all sorts of gross stuff and left him trembling, panting and gasping for air.

“It’s okay”, she soothed him, “It’ll get better soon, the meds will kick in and you’ll be better.”

Suddenly she was back in her mother’s bedroom with Amy, before Rittenhouse, Flynn and time machines. She cleaned, changed oxygen tanks, spoon fed soup and crackers and administered meds.

It was a painful memory of a happier time, that at the same time wasn’t that. Seeing her mother wither away and nevertheless feeling the pressure of her expectations, the prospect of being alone with Amy after the inevitable death of her mother.

But now she knew what to do.

With practiced motions she freed him of the used tissues, held the cup for him to take a few more sips, then checked his nails and lips for a blueish tinge. There was one indeed, so she pulled the oxygen tank, left by the doctor as a precaution, closer to the bed, set it to 5 liters and carefully arranged the nasal tube.

His eyes followed her every moment, but Lucy didn’t find herself bothered by it.

“You seem so… used to stuff like this”, Garcia noted. He was laying down again, on his side, it was a little easier to breathe that way.

“Amy and I took care of Mo- our mother when she had gotten worse. She hated hospitals and didn’t want a nurse at the house constantly. So, it was up to us”, Lucy didn’t meet his eyes, busied herself with getting another blanket out of the sort-of wardrobe they all had in their bedrooms.

“That doesn’t sound fair.” She let out a dry laugh, of course it wasn’t. Carol made Amy put her life on hold, because Lucy was supposed to get tenure at Stanford and Amy’s podcasts weren’t real work anyway. She just had decided her daughters would care for her, without asking them.

They would have done it, of course, they weren’t monsters and Carol had been their mother, but some kind of choice would’ve been nice.

“It wasn’t, but we were used to it. Amy actually did most of it, I had Stanford. I kind of thought, that…”, she scoffed and shook her head.

“What did you think?”, even sick, with a sore throat, shivering and feeling miserable, Flynn cared for her, listened. This man was ridiculous.

“It’s stupid. I just- I thought if I got tenure, if I got to carry on her legacy, she could draw strength from it, you know? That it would give her the kick to beat the cancer. See? It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it is. You just wanted to help her.”

Lucy sighed and finally met his gaze. She could see that he was flagging, the fever was pulling him under again and yet he fought to stay awake in order to be there for her. Ridiculous.

“And now I want to help you”, she said firmly and took a towel to mop some sweat off his forehead. He shivered under her touch but let his eyes close. “Sleep, Garcia, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 A few hours later, he was still asleep. Jiya had come and gone, had brought some crackers and fruits in case either of them grew hungry.

Lucy read in a book about the demolition of socialism she found in his personal little library, but couldn’t quite concentrate on the words, looked up every couple of lines.

Flynn’s sleep had become restless, he tossed and turned, his hands twitched, and she could see his eyes moving behind the lids.

“Garcia?”, she asked softly, but only prompted a tiny whimper. “It’s okay, Garcia, you’re safe.”

“No…. No, please don’t… Leave her alone…”

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Lucy squeezed his arm, tried to rub some comforting warmth into him.

“Lorena”, it sounded suspiciously like a sob, and, oh, Lucy’s heart, the one she carefully started to piece together again after Chinatown, it shattered into a million pieces.

She knew it wasn’t safe to wake a soldier trapped in a nightmare, not by touching him. He might lash out and hurt her, completely unaware of himself and his surroundings.

But Lucy didn’t care, not now, not when he was clearly suffering.

“Garcia!!”, she grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him.

He startled awake, gulping down hasty, too short breaths and scrambled to come back to reality.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

She desperately tried to calm him, ground him. “It’s me, it’s Lucy.”

“Lucy…”, he sounded far away, but met her eyes. “Lucy.”

“Yes.”

A shudder ripped through him, but not from the fever. He tried to take a breath, but it caught in his throat.

“Lucy.” He fumbled for her hand and she met him halfway, then he sagged forward, and she caught him. There were more shudders now and unsteady breathing, his hands clutched at her sweater, and if the same sweater had a growing wet patch on her shoulder, then so be it.

She mumbled endearments, sweet nothings into his hair, not at all caring that she could get infected too. Lucy didn’t know exactly how long it lasted, the minutes blurred together at some point, but eventually the shudders and shivers ceased to an unsteady breathing and then, after a deep, weary sigh, his weight got a little heavier on her shoulder.

Lucy lowered him back onto his pillows and pressed a soft kiss to his brow.

 It was one and a half weeks later that Lucy found Garcia sitting on the couch in the common area. There was a blanket draped over his shoulders and steaming cup of tea in front of him, but he appeared to be asleep, snoring softly through a still clogged nose.

They hadn’t talked, really talked, since his nightmare. The meds had kicked in soon after, leaving him slumbering for the most time, but unfortunately, they hadn’t got along with the foods Jiya and Denise provided, so they spent the last three days feeding him up again.

Lucy carefully pulled the tea bag out of his mug before it became too bitter, then settled down beside him with another book.

She made it through two chapters before she felt him stirring beside her.

“Lucy?”

“Good morning, sleeping beauty”, he rubbed his eyes at that, and it was really not fair that a six-foot-four man could be that adorable. “Your tea’s cold. I’ll make some more.”

She heard him following her, when she moved to fill up the electric kettle, then they sat down at the table to wait for the water to boil. Lucy pushed a package of chocolate chip cookies to him and Garcia obediently took one and started to nibble at it.

“Lucy, about what happened, I’m sorry”, his voice was still hoarse and with him mumbling, she guessed the words rather than actually hearing them.

“What do you mean?”

He awkwardly cleared his throat, wincing when it hurt. “The, uh, the nightmare. I didn’t mean to-“

“Cry? Or you didn’t mean for me to see?”, Lucy leaned forward and boldly took his hand, “Garcia, you were sick, you had a bad dream, I was there to comfort you. End of story, no big deal.”

He seemed a little taken aback by that. “I can’t imagine it was a… pleasant sight seeing a man crying out for his dead wife.”

“So wasn’t you gasping for breath, shivering and shaking. But I stayed anyways.”

Lucy looked at Garcia and he met her eyes shortly, before turning his attention to the cookies.

“But why…”

Why were you there?

“Because of you, Garcia. I was there because of you.”

#timeless #badthingshappenbingo #garcy #pneumonia #writing #fic