#also yeah there was no way i was gonna draw matt with straight hair | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mollymagician · 9 months

Text

Chapter 3 of A Translation of the Dream is up!

Hob was sitting on his couch, staring at the banana peel in the middle of his coffee table, when a knock sounded at the door.

“‘S open!” he called, knowing who’d be on the other side.

“Okay,” Matthew said, pushing his way in and closing the door behind him. “What was it that was so exciting you needed to sh— uh. Hey there, you good?”

Hob beckoned him over with one hand, pulling his phone out with the other. “Sit down here, look at this.”

Matthew plopped down beside Hob on the sofa, wearing one of his habitual and varied what the fuck faces. Hob opened his camera app, aimed it at the banana peel, and waited.

“What the fuck?” Matthew said.

There was nothing on the screen but a bare coffee table.

“How’d you do that?” Matthew took the phone and aimed it at his hand (there was a hand), at Hob’s face (there was Hob’s face), back at the banana peel. Blank screen. “That’s fuckin trippy. It’s a—a what, some kind of filter?”

“Take out your phone. You try,” Hob said. Something must have bled through in his voice, because Matt gave him a long look as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and opened the camera. He pointed it at the coffee table to line up the shot. The shot of a bare coffee table.

“What the fuck??”

“That banana peel is three days old,” Hob said. “It should be a manky puddle of sludge by now.”

“Uuhhhh I guesssss…” Matt scrubbed his hand over his hair. “Look, Hobsie, are you okay? Because you’ve been acting weird all week but this is just straight up freaky.”

Hob leaned back against the couch and folded his arms, still staring intently at the banana peel as though he were trying to will it to behave. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You’re giving that banana your ‘teacher look’ but I don’t think it’s gonna help, boss. Cause it’s a banana. Can you just tell me what’s going on, please?”

Hob took a deep breath and let it loose. He was not losing his mind. He was not. Matthew was seeing the same things he was and that was a massive relief. It meant he wasn’t hallucinating. Excellent. It also meant that bizarre bullshit was actually happening which was a whole other kettle of upsetting fish.

Hob told him.

“Huh,” Matthew said.

They sat side by side on the couch, arms crossed, staring intently at the banana peel.

“So you’re telling me you saw our dude draw something, pick it up off the page and conjure it into thin fucking air?”

“Uh, pretty much, yeah.”

Matthew reached out and poked the peel. It felt…like a banana. He lifted his phone again and tried to get the thing in frame, putting it straight up against the lens. Picked it up off the table and held it up against the backdrop of the closed front door. Took a photo of his hand, empty.

“Yeah okay so, that is so SUPER fucking weird. I’d think you were screwing with me, but like…it’s you. You don’t do this sort of shit. And also…I don’t know but…we didn’t call him Tall Dark and Spooky for nothing. Dude’s got a vibe.” Matthew grimaced.

“Just do me a favor,” Hob said. “If he ever comes in and I’m not there, just call me? Don’t confront him. He doesn’t mean anyone any harm, I’m sure of it. And…and he’s…shy. About talking to people.”

“Ooooo-kay. And what are you going to be doing?”

Hob thought a moment, then reached out and grabbed his coat where he’d slung it over the back of the couch. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Right.” Matthew watched him skeptically as he shrugged on the coat and, after a moment’s thought, dropped the banana peel into his pocket. “Don’t go doing anything stupid, please.”

“Course not,” Hob said. “When do I ever?”

…………………………………

“This is stupid,” Hob said.

He stood in a dark alley and glared at the walls around him as though he could force them to give up their secrets. He’d been walking for two hours, and now he had to face the fact that ‘wander the streets aimlessly until you stumble over a Twilight Zone escapee’ was not the best plan he’d ever had. The sun had gone down properly a half an hour into his little trek and the temperature was dropping like a stone. His dodgy knee was beginning to complain. No one had tried to mug him yet, though. One bright spot. He sighed and decided that it was time to head back home.

Luckily his meandering rout had brought him back around to the Inn’s general neighborhood and within twenty minutes he was trudging up to the outer door that led to his stairwell. A few steps away, fumbling for his keys, he glanced up and stopped. In the orange of the security light over the entrance, something glowed white against the door.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

Leaping wildly across the dark painted metal was the same figure he’d only seen in miniature facsimile, painted across the grimy wall of the old White Horse Pub. Now it was here. On his door. As bright and obvious as an arrow. Find me.

“Okay,” Hob said. “Okay, I’m coming.”

Thankfully for his knee, the White Horse wasn’t far.

The opening in the old chain link fence was still there, no one had ever bothered to repair it. It had been years since Hob had pushed through that ragged gap and crunched through the gravel and broken glass in the overgrown front courtyard. The building had stood derelict for decades, locked in development hell as locals fought to get the budget allocated to have it restored and designated a historic site. For now it lurked, a sad old ruin slowly being consumed by graffiti. The usual kind, and—

There, in the ambient urban glow of the street lamps, Hob could make out the remains of Dream’s mural. Sheltered by the overhang of the sagging roof, it had faded but not washed away, like the paintings on the walls of some unearthed villa in Pompeii. Hob stepped in close to study it.

leaping, charging across the open green, gleeful, cutting through the wind like a hot knife, free, free, free

“Oh,” Hob whispered. “There you are.” Like a magic eye painting solved, Hob could see it now, that hidden layer, opening up to him like a book. Why now? he wondered. Stranger, what did you do?

The sound of a boot scraping on flagstone behind him in the dark sent a jolt of alarm up his spine and he tore himself away from the mystery in front of him and spun around, adrenaline prickling at the back of his tongue.

For a moment the sensation persisted, as though he was seeing different pages of reality. Dream stepped out of the deeper shadows of the doorway, a long thin monochrome haunt, draped in shadow, black pools for eyes—then he crossed into a bar of street light and it was the Dream he recognized again. Disheveled, worn. Beautiful.

“Hello, stranger,” he whispered. “Sorry I’m late.”

Dream stopped a few feet away, hands buried in his coat pockets. His eyes were riveted to the ground. Hob could see the tension in every line of his lanky body. “You are not,” he murmured. “I am glad. That you understood.”

Hob huffed a soft laugh. “That was at least one thing I understood.” He pulled the banana peel out of his pocket and set it carefully on the stone ledge of the boarded window beside him. “Was hoping for some clarification on a few others, though.”

Hob didn’t think it was possible for Dream to be any more pale, but even in the dim light he could see him go positively gray beneath a suddenly blank expression. Fuck. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to open up this particular conversation. He lifted both hands in a placating gesture. “Shit. No, it’s okay. Whatever you’re imagining right now, I’m not going to do that. I promise. I just…” He raked a hand nervously through his hair. “I just couldn’t understand what I’d seen and…I wanted to.” Dream was silent, slanting a cautious look up at him as he babbled. “It’s my whole thing, see, I can’t help it. I want to understand. You get me curious about something, someone…uh…I just can’t keep a lid on it. And so.” He gestured to the banana peel, to Dream, to the gloomy old ruin around them. “Here I am. I just had to know if what I saw was…”

“Real?” Dream was staring at him now so intensely it felt like a weight against his skin.

“Yeah,” Hob finished weakly.

Dream stood silently for so long that Hob was certain he was about to be told in no uncertain terms that he was a lunatic and also to fuck clean off thank you very much. He was girding himself to turn and leave, when Dream reached out, slowly, and picked up the banana peel.

Hob watched in wonder as he closed his fist around it, and it…crumbled. Powdery yellow grains sifted through his fingers, swirling off into nothing. He opened his hand, now empty but for a coating of chalk dust, as though he’d swept an old blackboard clean with his palm.

“There are many ways a thing can be real,” Dream said.

Hob opened his mouth, closed it, tried again. “…oh my giddy aunt…” was what he managed to wheeze out.

A corner of Dream’s mouth quirked up and, oh, he’d done that, he’d invoked a smile, even if it was just by being poleaxed and incoherent. “Would you. Walk with me? For awhile?” Dream asked hesitantly. His gaze darted away again. “I promise I’m not…not some sort of devil. I—“ His mouth snapped shut on whatever else he’d planned to say when Hob’s hand closed lightly over his shoulder. He hadn’t even realized he was going to move before he did it, his natural inclination towards friendly touch bullied itself to the fore while the rest of his brain was trying to reboot.

“Clearly,” Hob said. He hoped his smile looked reassuring and not as unsteady as he still felt. “You seem like a person to me.”

Dream’s smile grew, just a bit. Hob hoped that the tension he felt leaving the muscles under his hand wasn’t his imagination.

“Come,” Dream said.

Hob went

#Dreamling #the sandman netflix #hob gadling #dream of the endless #dream x hob #dreamling au #A Translation of the Dream

8 notes · View notes

livingasaghost · 3 years

Text

the foxes during pride let's GO

disclaimer: i know everybody has their own headcanons for what all the foxes' sexualities are so do not come at me if i give your character a different sexuality than you think they deserve! (except aaron that bitch is straight)

so obviously the foxes are Not Straight™️ (except aaron fuck that guy) which means the foxes during pride are just.....chaotic af....but also, it took them a while to figure out how not straight they are

they all decide they're going to the pride parade bc none of them have ever been and since they have so many Gays they need to support them and now that they're all friends it'll be way more fun

kevin does NOT want to go and argues about it for three days before andrew shuts him up

nicky is so excited that he asks erik to fly in just so they can go together

neil still doesn't really know a lot about pride since he didn't even realize he "qualified" since he "only likes andrew"

one night he shares his fears with renee because she seems like the only person on the team who understands his sexuality aside from andrew and she says that he seems like he's on the ace spectrum and that he definitely belongs in the community

neil spends the rest of the night on his computer looking up demisexuality and asexuality and a whole list of terms he never knew existed

the next day he shows andrew, happy to finally have a language to explain himself, and andrew just nods

as neil keeps talking and explaining romantic attraction, andrew starts to think that maybe he belongs a little on the aro spectrum...but he doesn't say anything. just keeps thinking.

eventually neil speaks up at one of the team's hangouts and shares that he's demisexual and he may also be questioning his gender

this sparks a huge conversation where everybody starts Questioning™️ and soon it's 2am and matt is sharing that he might actually be pansexual?

allison waves everybody off because "of course i'm not straight i never have been you guys just haven't noticed"

nicky gets very put out that so much of his team is Not Straight and they all acted like he was the odd man out for being gay

then allison decides to stir the pot a little more "actually, i've always had a crush on renee but i know that'll never happen"

which leaves renee and the entire team speechless

renee: "...i always though YOU were the one that was never gonna happen"

nicky: "WAIT? RENEE AND ALLISON LIKE EACH OTHER?"

matt: "andrew just won like $300"

nobody really knows what to do next, so allison and renee just kind of look at each other and the two of them silently agree to talk about it all later

nicky: "okay well y'all better spill the tea when you hook up because i want all the details"

dan shoves him off the couch

as the night wears on, kevin stays conspicuously quiet, and it isn't until almost everyone goes to bed that neil finally convinces him to open up

kevin: "the reason i told you that you shouldn't be homosexual is because.....i used to have a crush on jean"

even though neil doesn't really understand, he admits that jean does have a beautiful face and it's really really attractive when he speaks french

neil shares a little bit more about demisexuality and kevin wonders if maybe he falls on that spectrum somewhere...if maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he wasn't entirely straight

after their Big Night of Sharing, dan talks with allison because "how did you know you actually liked girls?"

and the more allison starts to talk, the more dan realizes that all those girls she thought were pretty growing up.....weren't just women she admired

but she stills likes matt and she still finds some men attractive and she starts to realize that maybe she falls on the bisexual spectrum....or maybe just queer, she isn't sure yet

one day after practice wymack goes off on some tangent and eventually nicky spills that they're all going to the pride parade

wymack: all of you?

nicky, totally serious: okay, well, not aaron bc he's homophobic and he's also the token straight teammate

aaron: i am not homophobic

matt: i'm pretty sure you are

wymack almost asks about why they all want to go to pride because he's sure most of them are queer, but it's above his pay grade so he just tells them to have fun

almost everybody decides to dress up for the parade — kevin obviously refuses — and andrew surprises everyone by wearing armbands that are rainbow colored

neil tells andrew he doesn't care about dressing up but andrew buys him a rainbow shirt anyway

and then while they're getting ready allison insists on drawing a little demi flag on neil's cheek right over his scar and it makes neil feel like he finally belongs somewhere

nicky obviously goes all out and wears an outfit that matches eriks: short shorts, rainbow flag cape, rainbow socks, etc. he even wears heart-shaped pink sunglasses

the girls spend a few hours doing their make-up and they even convince matt to put glitter in his hair

renee gets a few disposable cameras for the occasion and spends the entire day taking cheesy photos of (and with) everyone to remember everything

halfway through the day neil looks over and sees allison and renee holding hands

at one point kevin gets recognized and people start asking him about his sexuality, wondering if he's just an ally and kevin almost bolts....but then he glances at neil, who's standing close to andrew...and he looks at nicky and erik....and then he notices allison and renee together.....and something in him just kind of snaps

kevin: "actually, yeah, i'm here because i'm bi. i'm bisexual."

the whole team just stares at him, most of them wearing proud smiles, and when the fans leave (inevitably about to share this news with the internet) they all gather into a group hug — even andrew — and congratulate kevin

and even though kevin keeps telling them to "GET OFF!" he's also secretly glad that he finally has people to accept him and love him no matter who he loves

andrew doesn't say anything the entire day, looking entirely unimpressed by the crowds and the parade, so neil pulls him aside at one point

neil doesn't expect him to say anything, just wants to give him space to breathe, but then andrew speaks up

andrew: i never thought it could be like this

neil: like what?

andrew: colorful

#aftg #aftg headcanon #this is so stupid and bad but IDC #it BROUGHT ME IMMENSE JOY #and i feel like people won't agree with me on some of the choices i make in this but I DO NOT CARE #aftg pride #pride #aftg hc #aftg shitpost

42 notes · View notes

ahockeywrites · 3 years

Text

Is that a drawing of me?

You sighed. Your professor set you an assignment to draw something that makes you smile. His suggestions included a pet, a sport or a loved one. Naturally, the first thing that came to your head was your boyfriend, the resident pest of Calgary, Matthew Tkachuk. The only problem you had, is that drawing faces was your weakness when it came to your artwork. It wasn’t that you couldn’t draw faces, if it was a life or death situation, yes, you could draw a face. However, when compared to your nature drawings, they were second best.

“So, are we gonna get a drawing of Mr Hockey hotshot this time?” your friend Anna asked. You looked at her with a look only she could read. Realistically, the answer should have easily been yes, but your worry of making him look bad was heightening your anxiety.

“It’s an idea, but you know how I was in our portraits module. How can I do the man I love justice when I can barely draw someone with straight hair,” you said as you slumped into the chair in the small coffee shop. “His curls will be the death of me.” Taking a small sip of your coffee, you noticed a text from the devil himself.

Matty: Hey baby, just wanted to let you know I’m back from practice now! Let me know what you want to do for dinner :) x

You: Urm… I’m good for anything? Something quick bc I’ve got college work to do x

Anna could tell that you were talking to Matt, solely by the way that your face lit up whenever you two spoke. “But, who or what else would you draw? I mean, I’m planning on doing my family by the lake back home, if that helps?” Anna offered. You knew she was just trying to help, but you had to draw Matthew. You had skirted around it before but you had decided.

“I’m gonna draw him, but hopefully not too well,” you said, “I can’t inflate his ego any more. I think Brady and Taryn would want words with me.” The two of you giggled, knowing that anything that made him look too good in his eyes would just make his head grow 20 sizes.

“Yes my love!!” Anna exclaimed, “shall we stop by the art store before art history?”

“I think I’m gonna need to,” you explained, “I need some new canvases and a lot of red pencils if he’s gonna be in Calgary gear.”

The two of you left the coffee shop for the nearby warehouse full of art supplies. It was just off campus and offered a generous student discount to almost anyone. You wandered down by the canvases, trying to figure out which size would be right for your latest piece. Too small and the picture would look cramped, too large and the image could look out of proportion. Eventually, you settled on a relatively large one and by this time had picked up some very Calgary appropriate red and black pencils. You also spotted a scrapbook that looked perfect to start filling with photos of you and Matthew.

Scrapbooking was something you had always wanted to get into, but it never came up in your studies and you always thought that you should practice line art or painting. But with your second anniversary coming up, it was something you could do in your downtime to relax but also create something beautiful. All you had to do was get a few rolls of washi tape and some photo corners. Everything else, if you had forgotten it, could easily be ordered later.

2 hours and $150 later, you exited the store with Anna and headed to your final lecture of the day. Now, just because you enjoyed both art and history did not mean that you enjoyed the combination of the two. Especially when the professor decided that it would be fun to set a 2000 word essay on the Renaissance period. “I cannot wait for this day to be over,” Anna spoke aimlessly.

“Honestly, same, hopefully Matt has got some food ready for when I’m back,” you hoped, no, prayed to someone above that he had actually made something and hadn’t burnt down your apartment. “I’m gonna head off now, but text me updates of your portrait?” you asked Anna. She nodded and you started your short walk from campus to the apartment.

15 minutes later, you arrived home and tumbled through the door. The smell of something baked filled your nostrils. “Matty baby?” you called out, hoping he would hear you and give you a hand with all the supplies you had bought.

“Y/N!” he called, coming to the hallway. “Need a hand?” he asked, but the two of you knew it was rhetorical. You let out a small giggle and gave him two of the bags you had filled to the brim with scrapbooking items. Now, you could have hidden them from him, but it was likely that he wouldn’t even know what they were so you were safe. The two of you moved in sync to the office of the apartment which very quickly had become your own personal studio with an easel and multiple chests of drawers with the most random supplies in them.

“Just pop them down anywhere, I have a drawing I want to start tonight along with an essay,” you complained.

“Don’t you worry, I have wine and lasagne,” Matthew sang. You audibly groaned at the sound of food, all you wanted was a warm meal and to relax. At least you’d be able to get one of them tonight.

You two sat down at the island that graced the kitchen of the apartment. Matthew had set the table and even put a few candles out, “I thought you could do with an hour or so of doing nothing,” he spoke as he went to grab your hand. He rubbed soft circles over your knuckles as you picked up your wine glass with your other hand.

As you took your first bite of the lasagne, you sent your boyfriend a wink. Lasagne was one of the few things he could cook and not mess up and he knew that. “I am so glad that I have a small amount of time before I start my drawing tonight,” you explained.

“What are you drawing?” Matt asked as he lifted his wine glass to his lips.

“That is something I would rather not share just now, but you’ll find out later,” you winked. You were never particularly secretive when it came to your artwork so he was slightly confused but he went along with it. Maybe, he thought, it was going to be a gift for someone and you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise.

The two of you continued to chat over dinner, talking about practice and how boring your lectures were. The boy sitting across from you never failed to make you laugh and you knew that you couldn’t draw anyone else other than him. As he was talking, you allowed yourself to take in his features and you tried to think of the best way to draw them. “If you’re done staring, I’m gonna sort the dishes out,” Matt laughed. You hadn’t even realised you were looking so intently at him. “I know I’m beautiful,” he got out before you tried to tackle him to the ground, however, your strength was nothing compared to his.

“I think this means it’s time for me to go and get started with my assignment,” you giggled from underneath him. “Come grab me if I’m still working and should be asleep, yeah?” you asked. He nodded and let you head to the office.

Once seated in the office, you pulled out your laptop and google searched Matt’s name, hoping some good images of him came up. Or at least, some that you could try to emulate. You found one of him smiling and celebrating a goal and thought that would be perfect. It also meant that the majority of his curls were underneath a helmet so wouldn’t have to worry.

Grabbing the canvas you had specifically bought for this, you placed it on the easel. You began to sketch out the rough shape of a skater in the foreground. Then, you moved onto the face. You thought if you did the face early on, you could fix any mistakes with it once the rest of the image was done. Starting with the eyes, then the nose and mouth, this wasn’t going as badly as you thought it might have gone. But then, the dreaded curls were staring at you from underneath the helmet. Sighing, you knew that if you didn’t start them now, they would never be done and a bald Matthew was something you never wanted to see.

A knock on the office door startled you, “baby, it’s almost midnight. You have an 8am lecture tomorrow and don’t want you to be late,” Matt said in a soft voice.

“Yeah, just gimme a few minutes,” you replied. By this time you had moved onto the logo on his shirt and if anyone saw, it would be incredibly obvious who you were drawing. Curly hair, Calgary Flames player, number 19, with an A on his chest. You were so engrossed in the drawing, you hadn’t noticed Matthew open the door and walk to be behind you.

“Is that a drawing of me?” he asked. You jumped out of your skin and he had to put his hand on your shoulder to stable you. You meekly nodded and looked up to him. “It’s amazing,” he said as he took in the drawing. Suddenly, he put two and two together, “this is why you wouldn’t tell me what you were doing, eh?”

“Maybe,” you said softly, trying to hide yourself in his chest. “Didn’t want to inflate your ego anymore.”

“Baby, if every drawing you do of me is this good,” he said as he pressed his forehead to yours, “my family better make an entire room back in St. Louis for my ego.” You slowly pressed your lips to his as a sign of appreciation.

“I take it you like it then?”

“Like is the wrong word, I love it. I also can’t wait to send a picture of this to the family group chat to get their thoughts,” he laughed.

“Well, as long as your mom doesn’t want me to do another one, I think I’ll be okay,” you said as you kissed him again.

#ahockeywrites #Matthew Tkachuk #flames19 #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

121 notes · View notes

fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (A/n- I hate these moodboards sm)

Masterlist. Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- Angst, medical emergency, sexual tension

Chapter 3 Taking Blame

One month later After they'd gotten engaged, Keanu had been politely adamant in insisting that Miranda get to know Matt and Poppy better; take them out, spend time with them after their tutors left for the day and drive them to swim and ballet occasionally. As expected, she'd been reluctant, and even when Miranda did begrudgingly agree, Emma had been asked, or rather persistently urged, to join her. Of course, Miranda had dismissed Keanu when he protested that the entire purpose of her taking them was to spend time with the twins alone, arguing insistently that it was Emma's job to take care of them.

That had been nearly a month ago, and after one trip to the mall, two swim meets, three weekly ballet practices, spent with Emma trailing three paces behind Miranda, holding the children's hands along with whatever bags they had, Miranda had finally agreed to watch the children on her own and Keanu had let Emma have some time off.

Using her time liberally, Emma had gone to lunch with a couple old college friends, and then for a few drinks after. It was past seven when she finally returned, and from the minute she walked through the side door from Keanu's huge garage, the strong aroma of baked goods washed her senses, peaking Emma's curiosity, drawing her towards the kitchen. She didn't think Zelda had stayed that late.

Much to her surprise though, it wasn't the older woman in the kitchen, instead, it was Miranda standing amid the mess, a tray of grayish brownish cookies laid out on the the breakfast bar, dressed casually in white lounge pants and loose lace blouse, some of her hair pined away from her face. Surrounding the tray, was an assortment of ingredients, most of them looking like they'd been bought at a high end organic food shop. "Miranda?" Emma said slowly, beckoning the older woman's attention.

"Emily!" She spun on the absent heel of her ballet pump, and Emma gnawed on her lip to quell her annoyance. It was still extremely irritating when Miranda got her name wrong, but she'd given up on correcting her, deciding that she was more than likely doing it on purpose. "You're home, finally. Zora left….." she trailed off, waving her hand dismissively, "Some time ago, but thankfully you're here to clean up. Try one, they're peanut butter cookies. Totally organic," she shoved the tray closer to Emma.

"Okay," she cringed, wondering how bad organic desserts could be. She'd heard the stories, how they tasted like cardboard, grass and other things that most people wouldn't readily put in their mouths. Miranda stared at her intently, clearly waiting for Emma to take a bite and so, deciding that a cardboard cookie might be easier to endure than her boss's fiancée whining, she nibbled to the edge, just enough to get a taste. Eyes widening in surprise, she went in for a bigger bite, humming at the surprisingly good taste, "This is actually……"

"It's good right? Apparently Keanu thinks you baking is the gold standard or whatever," and once again, Emma wasn't sure if Miranda's compliment was actually a compliment.

Stammering, she just nodded, "It is good, you made them for the kids, do they like them?"

"Mhm!" With a triumphant grin, Miranda started walking out of the kitchen, reaching the mouth of the hall, "They’re in the playroom, and since you're here you can take over now!"

Not even bothering to respond, Emma just shook her head, shrugging off her leather jacket, draping it over a chair at the kitchen table, knowing the sooner she got to work, the better. The first thing she did was start clearing the remaining ingredients from the counter, barely glancing at names and labels until something caught her eye, "Miranda!" Emma yelled, panicked, not caring how upset she'd get, "Miranda!"

Seconds later, she came hustling into the room, muttering about how rude and incompetent hired help could be. "What do you want now?" She spoke through gritted teeth.

"Did you put this in the cookies?" Hastily, she held up a bag half filled with wheat flour, the plastic packing clutched tightly in her fist. Her heart was probably beating a mile as Emma anticipated a response.

"Yeah," Miranda scrunched her nose, still upset by Emma's scolding tone, "So what, it's good-"

"Didn't you read the list?" Already she was dropping the flour, not caring if it spilled, making a bigger mess than before, lunging for her handbag and rummaging for her keys, "Matty, Pop!"

"What list?"

"The fucking allergy list!" Emma sneered, too jolted to stop and worry about Mirada's precious feelings, "It's right there on the fridge,” she pointed hurriedly, and just as she was about to call for the kids again, Matt came running into the room, his face pulled with fright.

“Emma!” He ran past Miranda and straight for her, grabbing her thigh to get Emma's attention, “Come quick, something’s wrong with Poppy! She started coughing and-” He was on the verge of tears and there was an anxious bounce in his stance.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay,” Emma quickly kissed his hair, standing again to go get Poppy, “Everything’s gonna be okay, but I need you to be a big boy and wait by the car for me,” after that mishap, there was absolutely no way in hell that Emma was leaving Matt alone with Miranda, not when she was pretty sure she had a case of anaphylaxis on her hands, “I’m gonna go get Pop, okay?”

Nodding he ran off, and Emma went in the other direction, choking a sob when she reached the playroom, finding Poppy on the floor, gasping for breath, angry red patches on her skin. Without thinking twice, her instincts took over and she scooped the girl up in her arms, laying her head on her shoulder. Cradling Poppy’s head, she ran out to the garage, almost slipping on the tiles in the process, “It’s gonna be okay baby, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?” Tears were hot on her cheeks, but Emma knew that she had other things to worry about, her own emotions could be seen to after.

“What should I do?” Miranda came to stand beside her, wringing her hands as Emma got Matt into the car seat. “I swear I didn’t know that she was allergic-”

“Look I don’t have time for this,” not even realizing that she wasn’t wearing a jacket, Emma was already in the driver’s seat, getting the posh SUV started. Ideally, she should have taken Miranda with her to keep a check on Poppy while they drove to the nearest hospital, but she couldn’t bring herself to deal with the woman while she was also trying to keep Matt calm and his sister alive. Not without starting a fight at least. “Just call Keanu, lock up the house and then meet us at the hospital.”

The automatic door started reeling upwards, and Emma was backing out, “Are you sure I can’t-”

“You’ve done enough Miranda,” She backed out, “We’ll be at L.A General,” and with that, Emma backed into the street, shifting gears and then speeding off, hoping that she’d get to the E.R before it was too late.

Curled up next to Emma in the pale green sofa of the pediatric waiting room, was Matt, fast asleep. It was just past eight, and if they were at home, she knew he’d still be bouncing off walls, nowhere near ready for bedtime, but Emma had passed his tire off as a consequence of the hustle and trauma, it was certainly enough to have her eyes heavy. But Emma couldn’t sleep, not when the doctors hadn't yet come to update her on Poppy’s condition. By then, in just about an hour, she cried, hyperventilated quietly and almost screamed several times. All she could think of was how Poppy having that life threatening reaction was all her fault. She shouldn’t have left Miranda alone with them, she should have told her to read the list, checked on them instead of stalling in the kitchen. Something, anything.

Sitting across from her, on one of the single seats was Miranda herself, worried, though not half as frenzied as Emma. Maybe she was just good at keeping it at bay. They hadn’t spoken since she’d gotten there, instead, Miranda had opted to anxiously flip through magazines provided while Emma had struggled through trying to get Matt to have a sandwich from the cafeteria and a little carton of milk for dinner, almost losing her mind when he fought her, but eventually getting him to have some of it. And like she couldn’t bare to sleep, she was also too sick to her stomach with guilt to eat.

Her thoughts had left her sinking, and when Matt had succumbed to slumber, Emma had let the rest of the room fade to nothing, one mantra playing on loop in her mind, ‘just let that sweet little girl be okay.’ Keanu had been unreachable, so they'd left several voicemails, and Emma vaguely remembered that he’d mentioned that he had a meeting about a movie he'd worked on as a producer and then another with his agent, though, when he came though the white double doors, motorcycle helmet in hand, his eyes were red, his hair a mess there was an urgency in this long strides. “What the hell happened?” Were the first words that tumbled out of his mouth as he looked between Emma and Miranda, who both stood at his entrance.

Immediately, Miranda rushed to his side, sinking into his side and letting his arm go around her waist. Before Emma could process his question, Miranda was the one speaking, “I have no idea,” she shot Emma an unreadable look, though at the last second, there was devilish glimmer in her green eyes, “Emma came home and made them snacks, and next thing I know Poppy’s having a reaction.” Figures that out of all times, Miranda would remember her name, it would be then.

Her jaw hung slack and for the longest minute, Emma was at a complete loss for words. Though, her mind came up with a long list of the things she wanted to say, what the fuck? Being at the very top. “I….” She stuttered, wanting to instantly clear her name. But then, in a rush, Zelda’s words came back to her, Miranda always gets what she wants and stay out of her way. “I…” Even if she did tell the truth, Miranda was Keanu’s fiancée, who would he believe anyway? The hired help or the woman who he wanted to be the mother of his children. Emma was pretty sure she already knew the answer, best not to fight it, especially since she was clearly already on Miranda’s bad side. “I’m sorry,” fighting tears was hard, and the anger that heated up Keanu’s face was frightening, “I didn’t mean to- to- I just-”

Cutting off her stammering, moving his hand from Miranda’s waist, tossing his helmet to a chair and finally running both his hands through his hair. “How could you be so careless?” He hissed loud and venomously, “You could have killed my daughter,” the only reason he wasn’t full on yelling was because Matt was sleeping nearby, but Emma could tell that it was barely holding Keanu back and the low tone didn’t make his words sting less. “There’s a list for a reason, you know that. But now, my daughter is in the hospital because you were careless! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I am so, so sorry Keanu,” hot tears streamed down her face, from tired burning eyes. Her hiccupped breaths made Emma feel like a child being scolded at recess and all she wanted to do was have a fissure in the floor open up and swallow her. “I would never hurt Poppy, not intentionally, and I swear, as soon as it happened-”

“She came and told me,” Miranda interjected, intent on only making the situation worse, a hint of a smirk threatening to twist her lips, “And I told her that she had to take the children to the hospital immediately. Poppy could have died, for God’s sakes!”

A strangled sob threatened to wake Matt, and Emma had to clasp her hand over her mouth. How could someone be so outrightly vicious, going as far as shoving the blame on another person. “Maybe hiring you was a mistake,” Keanu determined, and Emma’s eyes went wide, definitely not prepared for what came next, “Maybe we need to reconsider you as their nanny.”

“What?” Emma swallowed thickly, that couldn't be it. From the minute they met she knew that Miranda hadn’t liked her, but fired? Never seeing the twins again or Keanu, she didn’t think it would go that far. “Please don’t-”

“I think you’ve said enough,” Keanu raised his hand, motioning for Emma to stop, passing it over his face before turning away.

Emma needed that job, and she adored those kids. Hell, she might have even been falling for Keanu, but she was not prepared to be humiliated even further. And maybe, if Miranda was going to be a permanent part of the Reeves household, it was better that she didn’t stick around. She could put up with a lot, but being someone for an entitled celebrity to cast undue blame on wasn’t one of them. Passive aggressive insults, snide remakes, being a bag holding mouse and walked all over, she could take. But being humiliated in public, for something she hadn’t done? Being treated like she was an inept child and not worthy of having an explanation or a chance to clear her name? That was where she drew the line.

“You know what Keanu,” Emma felt around her bag, eventually pulling out the keys for the SUV that she used to drive around the kids, “Miranda,” she hissed vehemently, “Maybe I should save you both some time,” finding a spot of courage, she strode up to him, Emma shoved the keys to Keanu’s chest, not caring if he got a hold of them or not, “Cause I quit.”

From the minute he held the keys in his grasp, feeling her fingers brush his and subsequently watching Emma walking out of the waiting room, Keanu knew he’d made a mistake. Emma couldn’t just leave, his children adored her, he…...well, he wasn’t too sure about what he felt for her, but he did know that he didn’t want to lose her. The whole firing quip had been an empty threat, fueled by stress and anger. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “Mandy, you stay here,” he started walking off, hoping to catch Emma before she could leave the hospital.

“Where are you going?” She grabbed his bicep, “You can’t just leave me here with him,” Miranda gestured to Matt, still curled up sleeping, not knowing that the nanny that he’d started looking up to had just walked out on them, and it was all his father’s fault. “Besides,” she reasoned, tone even and cool, “If she wants to leave, you should let her. She’s lazy and irresponsible.”

“Wha- no,” Keanu shook off Miranda's grip and by extension, her words, “Emma is not lazy, she works her ass off for my kids, and irresponsible? It was a mistake,” in an instant, his mind was changing and Keanu was regretting the way he’d handled things with Emma. She was obviously devastated knowing that she’d put Poppy at risk, and he had just made it worse, “Allergies happen, she has to learn. And I do too. I'm sorry,” he began the walk to the doors, “But I have to go find her.”

Keanu hadn’t meant for things to go awry, or to force Emma to quit, but he had just been so upset; worry and fear morphing into anger, causing him to lash out. In her three months with their family, that was the first time that she’d made any sort of mistake. Emma had probably committed the list memory and believing that she could make such a careless mistake was becoming increasingly hard. It just didn’t make sense. Emma treated his kids like they were her own, and that was only one of the many reasons why Keanu couldn’t lose her.

Thankfully though, he was able to catch up to her just as she was headed for the curb, arms wrapped around herself to combat the night’s chill, her sleeveless cotton shirt, with a little knot over her navel not really doing her any favors. “Em!” He jogged up to her, speeding up when she walked faster, “Emma, please, just wait.”

“What?” She turned, olive cheeks tear stained and taking on a reddish tint, illuminated by the street laps lining the parking lot, rage and hurt intermingling, “What do you want?” She heaved, and Keanu hated that he’d made her cry. She didn’t deserve to cry, she didn’t deserve anything he’s given her back there. Emma was a marvelous person, who was exceptional at her job.

“I’m sorry,” Keanu breathed, shaking his head, stepping closer, “You’re the best nanny Matt and Poppy have ever had; they love you, they listen to you and they’d miss you a damn lot if you left. I’d miss you,” his features softened, his eyes pleading, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you like that, I wasn’t even there and mistakes happen. I know that you wouldn’t put either of my kids in danger,” he slumped his shoulders, and Emma looked away, swiping at her eyes. She was fighting shivers too, Keanu could see it; it had rained earlier that day, and a distinct dampness along with an uncharacteristic chill still hung in the air. Not thinking much of it, just not wanting her to catch a cold, Keanu shrugged off his riding jacket, stepping closer and reaching around Emma to drape it over her slender shoulders, taking the opportunity to grip them after, “Please don’t leave us Em. I'm begging you.”

“I’ll stay,” she clenched her jaw, wiggling out of Keanu’s grip, “But not for you, I’m staying for those kids. And next time you want to accuse me of trying to kill one of your children, maybe you should dig a little deeper first."

“What?” Knitting his brows, Keanu watched as she started towards the hospital’s entrance, his coat swallowing up her frame, not even offering one backwards glass before going through the automatic doors.

Three Days Later The house had been exceptionally quiet since they’d returned from the hospital, Keanu had asked Emma to tell the tutors to take the rest of the week off, and Poppy had been recovering with her brother almost constantly at her side. The doctor warned them that Poppy’s allergy to wheat could have been deadly if they hadn’t gotten there sooner, and when Keanu had hugged Miranda in relief, while Emma was still wearing his jacket, she had to pretend it didn’t sting.

As a direct, though relieving side effect though, Miranda had been actively avoiding her, and Emma could tell that Keanu was too. That was, until late one evening, after Emma had put the kids down for an early bedtime and had resigned to her own room, getting into comfortable shorts and a loose camisole after her hot shower, deciding that a glass of wine and a movie on her laptop would be the perfect end to an easy Friday. The knock on her door and been soft, lacking urgency, and when she pulled it open, seeing Keanu on the other side, she was actually surprised, “Keanu?”

“Hey,” he smiled sheepishly, dressed like he’d just come home, still in his jacket and everything. The same one he’d lent her back at the hospital. She wondered if he’d washed it, or if he had let the fading scent of her favorite perfume linger against his skin.

Before he spoke again, Keanu faltered, almost losing himself as he drank her in, tiny cotton shorts boasting her smooth, toned legs, the fabric of her top stretched across her chest and Emma's long, drying tresses swept over one shoulder, leaving the slender column of her neck exposed. A wedding band that hung on a thin gold necklace settled against her skin, Keanu knew it was her father's, she'd mentioned when he asked if it belonged to someone else, someone like a husband. Remembering himself, Keanu took in a breath, trying to pull himself out of the trance that he'd fallen into, “Can I come in?”

Nodding, Emma stepped back, pulling the door open a little more, “Your house, your bedroom,” she tried to return his smile, still feeling the tension between them, not sure if it was a good tense or a bad one.

“It’s your room,” Keanu countered, serious, though not harsh, “As long as you’re here with us, its your home too, and your room.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he bent his head, dark mane curtaining his handsome face, smile fading. “I think I owe you an apology,” he shuffled his feet awkwardly, “No, I know I owe you an apology.”

“Keanu-” Emma tried to stop him, though he cut her off, not the way he had the last time, that night, it was softer, as he pleaded with her to just hear him out.

“I really need to say this,” Keanu raised his head, his whiskey gaze meeting her hazel orbs, and he tentatively toed a step closer, “What I said the other night at the hospital, I was way out of line,” he sighed, going slow so so he wouldn’t fumble over his words, “What I’m trying to say now is; I know it wasn’t you that caused the reaction.”

“What?” Baffled, and immensely relieved, Emma felt a mountain of stress that she hadn’t known was there, rolling off her shoulders, “How?”

Chuckling dryly, Keanu shook his head, moistening his lips, “When I came home, and saw those cookies, I knew it couldn’t have been you. I mean, you bake, but not with organic peanut butter and almond milk. I had my suspicions back at the hospital, you probably know that list better than the back of your hand,” he raked his nails through his beard, “And then I asked Matt, and he told me that it was Miranda that made the cookies. So I'm really, really sorry, about all of that.”

“Oh,” the soft exhale left Emma’s parted lips, and truly, she couldn’t believe that she was actually getting an apology from her boss. Not sure of how to proceed, she gnawed on her lip for a second, “What’re you gonna do?”

Huffing, Keanu smirked, “Nothing. Knowing Mandy, she’d just deny it anyway. Besides, it was an accident,” If Emma wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn he sounded a little bitter.

“Thank you,” Emma smiled, happy when Keanu returned the gesture, “I know you didn’t have to apologize, but it means a lot to me that you did.”

“Uh, yeah,” grinning breathlessly, they lingered like that for a moment, until the air grew flustered, and Keanu noticed her wine glass on the nightstand and computer on the made bed, mumbling about how he should get out of her hair.

Though, when he was on his way out of Emma’s room, he absently grabbed his right shoulder, rubbing and rolling the joint, “You okay?” She halted him, “That looks like it hurts.”

“Yeah,” he winced, trying to downplay it, even if Emma could see right through his façade, “Went to the gym this morning, now I’m starting to think that my trainer was right when she said I’ve stayed away for too long. Nothing to worry about though, just a little sore.”

“Maybe I can help,” she had no idea where the suggestion came from, or why she hadn’t tried harder to keep it inside, but there was really no going back anyway. Clearing her throat, Emma blushed, “Why don’t you take off your jacket, and sit on the bed?”

Just as flustered, Keanu inhaled deeply, wanting to oblige, but not sure if he should, “You don’t have to-”

“I want too,” taking initiative, Emma approached him, leaning up on her toes, her eye line barely meeting the back of his neck as she urged his jacket off, folding it in half and draping it over the arm of an accent chair. His biceps strained against the sleeves and Emma swallowed the little flirtatious comment that sat at the tip of her tongue. “Sit, please. I insist.”

Nodding, Keanu went over to bed, sitting on the edge as instructed and then watching intently as Emma crawled up behind him. Her bare knees grazed him as she adjusted herself, and it wasn’t long before he felt her small hands on his shoulders, kneading slowly. Her fingers applied the perfect amount of pressure, and when she rubbed the base of her palms over them, the sensation was close to orgasmic, “Shit, Em…..” Keanu groaned, feeling the tension start dribbling away, “That is…..amazing.”

Giggling musically, she just carried on. The muscles beneath his t-shirt were far firmer than what she expected from someone his age, and touching him like that, seemed more intimate than Emma had intended. “That’s good, cause you are so tense. You’ve gotta take it easy Keanu,” she chuckled.

“I know, its just….I’ve got a lot on my plate,” he voice dropped lower as he closed his eyes, submitting to the pleasure. It had been a long time since he’d let someone take care of him like that, since someone even offered to take care of him like that, and not even Miranda’s touch felt that way, so warm and soothing. Keanu would be lying if he said he was okay with it ending. “I’m just glad I have you though.”

“Oh?” Emma slowed down, leaning forward so her unrestrained breasts were pressed against Keanu’s back when her face reached the side of his. By the time he turned to face her, their lips were a mere inch apart, and it wouldn’t have taken much for her to just kiss him. “Well I’m glad I’m here for you,” she whispered, her hot breath fanning his face.

“I need to ask you something,” Emma could have sworn that Keanu was leaning in, and his eyes searched hers, longing reflected.

Mesmerized, Emma barely registered his words, only anticipating what she thought might come next, “Okay.”

“I uh….” his gaze fell on her perfect, plump lips, “I was just wondering, would you go to Paris with me?” Her heart leapt and while it wasn’t the question she’d been hoping for, Emma was already excited, “With me and the kids I mean.” Suddenly, as fast as it was created, the moment was gone, and embarrassed, Emma pulled away, trying to refocus her attention of Keanu’s stiff shoulders, “I have to be there by next month for a premiere, and since I’m gonna be spending my birthday there, I thought I’d take Matt and Poppy too. Obviously, if you have other obligations here, I wouldn’t want you to leave them.”

Disappointed and confused, Emma’s response was void of enthusiasm, “No, no I don’t,” swallowing tightly, she tried not to cry, hoping her shame wasn’t audible, “I’d love to go, part of the job, right?”

Keanu took a minute before he responded, though, when he did, his somber tone seemed to reflected hers, “Yeah, I guess so.”

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #nanny au #fanfic #fanfiction #keanu reeves au #au

33 notes · View notes

steverogersbingo · 3 years

Photo

✨ STEVE ROGER BINGO’S ROUND UP - POST 1 ✨

Check out the fills our participants posted from the first month under the cut!

🎨 ART

heaven isn't in the sky (it's underwater) by agron T // Steve/Tony // Mermaids Summary: when steve went underwater he was discovered by three mermaid tony stark instead

Untitled by ABrighterDarkness G // Steve/Bucky // Alpine Summary: Steve and Bucky get distracted, Alpine enjoys every minute.

Space Stone by AriaFandom G // Gen // Moodboard Summary: Galaxy aesthetic for the space stone

Untitled by sanguineterrain G // Gen Summary: Magical, canon-divergent Steve

Untitled by call-me-kayyyyy G // Steve/Bucky // AU; Fantasy; Loin-cloths Summary: Steve and Bucky are elf's who ride their unicorns to check the perimeter.

Steve Rogers becomes Cernunnos by pinkybitesu T // Gen // AU Summary: Steve had always felt connected to the Earth. Becoming the God of the Forest, Cernunnos, made it all make sense.

"That Is America's Ass." by bleedxblack T // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve Rogers straddles Bucky's waist with booty shorts that read "it ain't gonna spank himself".

📝 FIC

Clean Up These Bloody Fists by dontcallmebree E // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky // Shrunkyclunks; Mob AU Summary: Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s unendingly generous with his care for those around him, or if Bucky’s simply been lucky enough to scale the wall built up over decades, and had somehow proven himself worthy of the affection. Either way, he knows he’ll never take this for granted. Spend some time with Steve and Bucky this week in the perpetually fluffy ‘verse of Do The Things You Never Showed Nobody.

Scars by Kimberly T // 1,888 // Steve/Bucky // Post-CATWS Summary: The serum means that Steve can't scar anymore, though he's retained his pre-existing scarring. While in the hospital recovering from the fight on the helicarrier, Steve does a little introspection about this. It's bittersweet.

Without Regret by ABrighterDarkness E // 5,284 // Steve/Thor Summary: It had been a very long time since Steve had last felt like this. There was a buzz in his mind and tingling through his body. His movements were just slightly slower, clumsier and his were words spoken a little more loosely with a tongue that felt more weighty than it ought to. Even that, though, felt different than the last time that he’d had the opportunity to overindulge with a friend.

Love and Learning by ABrighterDarkness T // 7,746 // Steve/Natasha Summary: It reminded him, a little bit, of stepping into a machine seeing everything in varying shades of grey. Only to stumble out again into a world of color more vibrant than anything he could have possibly imagined. Overwhelming but entirely breathtaking and welcome.

Good by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,062 // Steve/Bucky/Tony Summary: Steve returns to the compound and finds that the two men he loves, but never told his feelings to, are a couple now.

Lie to Me by Kit T // 2,102 // Steve/Bucky // Body Swap Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Steve and Natasha end up trapped in the others body. Instead of telling everybody, they make a bet. Who will be able to conceal their identity the longest?

Dream a Little Dream of Me by buckybleeds E // 5,719 // Steve/Bucky // Dub-con; Self-cest Summary: Steve goes back in time to comfort himself after Bucky fell and ends up having sex with himself.

Pride by Kit T // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Tony wants to take Steve to pride to watch him freak out. Natasha tags along to do damage control.

Take Care of You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,756 // Steve/Bucky // Daddy Kink; Age Difference; AU Summary: Steve has been so busy with his work as a commander at shield lately, that he has barely had time for his partner Bucky. Bucky’s worried his Daddy might not want him anymore and Steve has to rectify this by showing how much he loves his baby.

Love Has Left a Printed Trace by Girl_Back_There E // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky // Vampires; Dub-con Summary: Steve is obsessed with finding a mysterious figure named Winter in paintings throughout the years. James is a Vampire named Winter charged with keeping Vampires a secret from humanity.

with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers by avintagekiss24 E // 4,420 // Steve/Reader // AU Summary: You and Steve share a morning in bed.

Always You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,691 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: After a year of traveling, Steve finally comes home and confesses his feelings to Bucky.

Stop the World by Rex E // 6,828 // Steve/Scott // AU Summary: When Steve got hired to entertain at Cassie Lang's thirteenth birthday party, he had thought it was going to be like every other kid's party he'd booked. He'd show up, play Captain America, get paid, and go home. He never quite gets to that last step, but to be fair, there was no way he could have anticipated the draw of Scott Lang.

Always by Rex G // 437 // Steve/Matt Murdock // Canon Divergence Summary: Even the Devil of Hell's Kitchen needs an angel from time to time. This one just happens to be from Brooklyn.

Glass by Rex M // 859 // Gen // Non-graphic torture; Implied non-con; Referenced suicide Summary: "We'll lose." "Then we'll do that together, too." Sokovia crashed, Ultron won, and he always had hated Tony the most.

We are already home by Bitters E // 4,948 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve carries an injured Bucky through a portal into…somewhere else? But they’re together, like they always have been, and that’s all that matters.

end of the line, time to go home. by moonythejedi394 M // 3,484 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Daddy Kink; Age Play/Regression Summary: Steve and Bucky always said they were together 'til the end of the line. But even they have to get off the train eventually. Everybody always figures, at the end of the line is... Y'know. The End. But actually, at the end of the line is happily ever after. It just took them a few decades and a couple suitcases of trauma to get there.

Not Technically A Bromance by dontcallmebree M // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky Summary: “A bromance?” Bruce asks, voice tinged with restrained laughter. “Yeah, we have one of those.” Steve glowers at Bruce, who’s patently laughing at him, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth. Bruce composes himself, biting at his bottom lip. “And you’ve had sex how many times?” (Inspired by that tweet, you know the one.)

At the Top of My Lungs by ralsbecket T // 1,646 // Steve/Tony Summary: Two months had passed since Tony had lost his life; since they had laid him to rest six feet under. It was two months of trying to keep his world from further falling apart, and it wasn’t really working in his favor. So, no. No, he wasn’t okay.

Thor’s Art Class for the Heroes of Midgard by WinterSabbath T // 6,338 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: In which Thor makes it his mission to help mend the broken, cold relationship between Steven and James through the only way he can think of: Art class. As a bonus, he also helps the team loosen up.

So Let It Happen by Bitters E // 2,287 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve comes home from a tough mission and needs to get out of his head. His husband and retired Avenger is only too happy to help him with this.

Made of Glass (The Way You See Through Me) by ralsbecket T // 1,132 // Steve/Tony // AU Summary: Steve wasn’t sure what came over him when the model walked out from the back room, wearing a robe; from the moment his eyes landed on his face, he was just… awestruck. Dark hair, bright eyes, full lips. He was fucking beautiful. Or, the one where Tony is the model in Steve's life-drawing class.

for your cooperation by xceru E // 3,145 // Steve/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: Hydra kidnaps Natasha on a routine mission in Cairo. When Steve finds her, Natasha decides that it's his turn to play prisoner.

my heart in the still winter air by xceru E // 11,887 // Steve/Bucky/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: “He will,” Steve says, and suddenly Natasha understands. This is the man that Steve altered his heart for, the one he thought only the serum could love. But now Steve knows better—he knows he’s bisexual—he knows his love is real, and the man that it belongs to is undead.

Won't Let Go by afalsebravado E // 2,358 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve is on the hunt for the Winter Sold-- Bucky. He's on the hunt for Bucky when the leads dry up and he heads home to regroup. But a package from Tony Stark arrives on his doorstep and makes him re-evaluate old promises.

The Truth of Who I Am by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,203 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve Rogers is not a cis straight man and he is tired of people erasing that and other parts of his identity so he fits into the image they already had of him.

Bruise of a Rose by marvelousmoons G // 1,710 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: It’s moments like this that get under his skin the most. The way Steve can just… be Steve. Be dramatic and give Bucky the cold shoulder for simply caring. But Bucky was stronger. He could play Steve’s game. He wouldn’t cave, no. He would sit and wait for the silence to overwhelm Steve first.

... And all I got was this lousy t-shirt by RainbowNerds M // 3,126 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: A month ago, Steve had the best sex of his life with a guy he met in a bar, and went home with the most hideous shirt he'd ever seen but no phone number. Enter his new roommate, Becca. The two instances are not connected, right?

Love you too, jerk by WinterRaven G // 636 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Fanart included Summary: Steve makes breakfast for Bucky and their 'kids' help him wake up his husband.

#steve rogers bingo 2021 #2021 round up

13 notes · View notes

hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

Text

Photographs

a/n: i was in some feels and this came out. childhood friends to lovers is a classic and never goes out of style, folks. also, italics are flashbacks.

“You gonna do the photo wall last?” Matthew asked you as he finished taping up another box.

You weren’t exactly sure at what point in you life you’d accumulated this much stuff that needed to be packed. Your childhood bedroom was like a memory capsule for your entire childhood, starring the Tkachuk family more than your own. You grew up two houses down from them your entire life, until Matty went to the OHL and you went to college soon after. Summers together kept your families close. The Tkachuks were family as far as your parents were concerned and you were a part of theirs too.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “It feels too, I don’t know, final to take it down.”

“Well, you guys are moving away forever,” Matty reminded you, “because you hate me.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, a joking tone strong in your voice. “Glad you finally understand how intolerable you are and that you’ve finally forced us out of St. Louis even though you’re in Calgary over half of year.”

“My powers of annoyance are strong.” Matthew bowed with his palms pressed together at his heart in a fake zen manner, earning an eye-roll from you. “Only took our entire lives, but I finally annoyed you into getting the hell away of me.”

“Oh please. You would’ve never learned to tie your shoes without me,” you chided him, walking towards him to give him a smack on the way and grab yet another candle off your desk.

“Pretty sure this photo,” Matt grabbed a photo from high up on your covered wall to bring it down, “was taken that day? Damn close to it anyway.”

You snatched the photo from him, smiling as you looked it over. You and Matthew were sitting next to each other in the plastic turtle sandbox that was still somewhere in your backyard, filled with rain water instead of sand these days, and roughly four years old. Matthew’s shoes were untied, as they pretty much always were at that age, and his arms were around your neck. You both were sporting wide, face-breaking smiles. Matthew has a ton of sand in his curls, a product of his inability to tie his shoes that had led to him face planting on the sandbox a few moments before this photo was taken.

“Matty!” you shouted as the little boy fell into the sandbox face first. “Your shoe is untied.”

“Mom isn’t here,” Matty replied after picking his curly head up out of the sand. “I can’t tie them.”

“I can! I’ll show you!”

Matthew looked at you with his brows furrowed and a pout on his face.

“I don’t need a girl to help me,” he said firmly as he flipped himself over in the sand so he was laying on his back. “Besides, you have cooties.”

“You have cooties!” you shouted back, “And my mom says girls can do whatever guys can do so ha.”

You stuck your tongue out and Matty did the same in reply. You stuck your tongue out as far as it could go and put your hands on your hips to try and look scarier. Matty put his thumbs behind his ears and spread his palms out wide and waggled his fingers in every direction in response.

“Meanie,” you mumbled, giving him your best pissed off face, as good as a four-year-old could do. “Let me teach you!”

“Okay, fine,” Matty muttered back, “but don’t touch me. You definitely have cooties.”

“You were so cute,” you said as you flipped the photo around to him. “What happened to you? Did you get smacked with the ugly hockey stick.”

“You’re one to talk,” Matty chirped back. “When did the resting bitch face start? Pretty sure that’s the root of all your problems in the looks department.”

“My soul is now accurately reflected in my appearance. It’s a trick to ward off men,” you countered without missing a beat.

“Well, it definitely works,” Matthew laughed, earning a shove from you.

Your eyes wandered back to the photo wall, landing on a photo of you and Matthew and Brady from when you were seven. You snagged it off the wall and showed it to Matty.

“Remember this one?” you asked him

He nodded, a smile forming on his lips as he took the photo from you. You, Matthew, and Brady were arm in arm, elbows linking you together. You were in a pale yellow dress with a flower crown and the boys were in tuxedos and top hats. You had been the flower girl and they had been joint ring bearers for a wedding of someone else in the neighborhood. The photographer had thought the three of you on dance floor, spinning around linked at the elbows, was too precious not the capture. This photo was still framed on your parent’s hutch, or it had been until your mom packed it the other day.

“Brady! Spin faster!”

Your voice was high and bright, filled with laughter as you spun around in your twirly dress on the dance floor.

“I’m trying!” Brady shouted back at you. “I’m not as big as you guys.”

“Faster!” you egged him on, the ribbons on your flower crown almost whipping him in the face with each turn.

“Yeah, Brady, keep up!” Matthew added in from your left side.

“I’m trying!” Brady shouted again, practically tripping over his feet to keep up with you and Matty.

“You just wanted to spin around and around and around,” Matthew laughed as he remembered that night. “You kept yelling at Brady because he wouldn’t spin fast enough.”

“I was a girl on a mission and he was slowing me down,” you shrugged unapologetically.

“Pretty much describes our entire childhood right there,” Matthew replied, his eyes shifting to your photo wall. He smiled, having found something that interested him and he plucked it off the wall. “Do you remember this one?”

You rolled your eyes when he showed you the photo. Of course he’d pick this one. It was from Matthew’s ninth birthday party. You and Matthew both had your cheeks tinged a dark pink since you’d just left the bounce castle the Tkachuks had rented for the party. You were both laughing, toothless smiles on show for all to see. You didn’t have an issue with this photo other than the fact that it was a physical reminder of the worst haircut you’d ever had.

“You need to go low when you go down, then you’ll bounce higher,” Matthew told you, even though you hadn’t asked for his advice.

“I’m doing that,” you huffed out between jumps.

On your next jump, you let yourself fall back and lay down at the bottom of the bounce castle. Matthew paused with you, flopping down next to you so you bounced up in the air again, making you laugh.

“I’m gonna get a Capri Sun,” you told him as you sat up and started to crawl your way to the exit.

“Capri Sun!” Matthew shouted, hot on your heels out of the bounce castle. “Strawberry Kiwi or bust!”

He ran past you as soon as his feet hit the grass, making a beeline for the cooler that contained your favorite beverages. Matthew tipped open the top and stuck his hands deep into the ice in search for what he wanted. He emerged victorious before you even reached him.

“I want strawberry kiwi,” you mumbled.

Matty, who was already about to puncture the pouch with, paused before he extend the pouch out to you instead.

“I’ll get another one,” he told you with a shrug, before plunging his hands back into the cooler.

“The bangs though,” Matthew nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. “How did your mom let you do that?”

“I think I just kept pushing and she got sick of telling me no,” you sighed, shaking your head softly. “How did my cheeks look that chubby? I don’t understand.”

Matthew looked at you as a smile started to form on his lips. He reached out and pinched both of your cheeks before you could protest. You slapped his wrists hard to get him to release your cheeks, but you were both laughing so hard you couldn’t fake anger.

“They’re still kind of pudgy,” he told you through his laughter. “You grew into them though and you still have your own portable nut storage. Oh, that sounds bad now.”

“Wanna take that back?” you asked him with a raise of one eyebrow.

“Yes, I would like to formally rescind that statement,” Matthew said

“Consider it struck from the,” you grabbed another photo off the wall, “record.”

“Oh jeez, thanks for picking that one,” Matthew said, sarcasm dripping from each word when he saw the photo

“You picked my bad hair year. Only natural I pick yours next,” you laughed as you looked over the photo.

You and Matthew were at one of the local hockey rinks. Him and Brady had probably played at ever rink within a hundred-mile radius of St. Louis growing up, so it was hard to tell which one. Matthew had just come off the ice, still in all of his gear except for his helmet which was tossed at his feet. You looked like you had just walked straight out a Hollister ad and you had picked the neon pink bands for your braces, but Matthew still looked worse. His cheeks were bright pink from all the skating he’d done and he was in the middle of an awkward phase for sure, but it was his hair that sealed the deal. It was too long and he didn’t really learn until you taught him a few years after this photo was taken how to take care of his curls, so they were just incredibly puffy and not in a cute way. He looked like his hair had been teased with at least five different combs until it was a large and frizzy as possible, not a single actual curl managing to escape the frizz.

“Just one photo together!” your mom told you, pushing you closer to Matthew.

“Mom,” you whined and trying to resist her push, but you knew better than to cross her.

You shuffled over to stand next to Matthew. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, holding the ends of your sweatshirt sleeves in your fists. Matthew sighed and shifted his stick to his opposite hand to make space for you next to him.

“You smell,” you told him.

“You always smell, but I’m nice enough not to say anything. Maybe you should learn some manners,” he threw back at you.

You almost squinted your eyes closed in anger, but decided to do one better. You smiled brightly, confusing Matthew when you didn’t insult him back. Your mom and his mom both had their cameras out, each taking a different side to make sure they got one good photo between the two of them, except that wasn’t in the cards that day. The exact moment your mother told you both to say cheese, you gave Matthew a surprise shove with all of your might. He was bigger, but you had surprise on your side and down he went, onto his butt for all to see. You laughed and pumped your fists in the air upon seeing your plan executed perfect. Matthew just glared at you from the ground.

The photo in your hands captured both of your faces the moment you realized he was going down. Matthew’s face showed shock and horror, the future chirps of how he got pushed by a girl clearly flashing before his eyes. Your expression could only be described as absolute elation.

“You know what they say,” you giggled. Matthew looked at you with an eyebrow raised, waiting for your response. “The higher the hair, the closer to God.”

“You still smell,” Matthew told you, a glint in his eyes telling you his was just trying to get a rise out of you.

For old time’s sake, you stuck your tongue out at him. He just laughed in response before turning his attention back to the wall. His light blue eyes scanned over several photos before he found one that brought a smile to his face. He plucked it off the wall and presented it to you.

“You know, twelve years old was your worst time. Nine was my worst, but I think fourteen was our joint worst,” you sighed, shaking your head softly as you looked at the photo.

Freshmen year homecoming, before Matthew was sucked into the junior national development team. He was for some reason wearing a red vest, white button up, a bowtie, and black dress pants. Not exactly a fashion forward look. You were in a dress that your mom had definitely encouraged you to buy. It was silver, had silver glittery polkadots over the entire thing, and flared out at the worst possible spot on your body, making you look a good twenty pounds heavier than you were. The pose of the photo made the awkwardness you both had felt then come right off the photo and back into your bodies now. You shuttered as you remembered the circumstances for the photo.

“Matthew, just stand behind her and put your arms around her,” his mom encouraged, but there was an annoyed edge to her voice, like she was teetering just over the edge of exploding. “Just this one photo and then you can be done.”

“We’re not dates, Mom,” Matthew complained, his arms crossed over his chest. “We’re not going the dates pose.”

“Matthew Tkachuk,” was all his mother had to say in a firm tone and his arms flew around you.

You knew your smile was uncomfortable as you did it, but it was the best you could muster given that your best friend who you couldn’t remember not knowing currently had his arms around you. You swallowed hard at the feeling of his arms around your stomach and you started to sweat a little. You tried to attribute it to the weather, but it was fall in St. Louis, so that mental excuse didn’t work. You were nervous, but you couldn’t figure out why. Matthew had never jumped away from you faster than he did once his mom said she had the photo she wanted.

“Moms,” Matthew sighed, a pained expression still on his face. “So embarrassing.”

“Right?” you replied, laughter edging at your voice to try and lighten the situation.

Why were you nervous? It was just Matthew.

That’s when your almost decade-long crush on Matthew had started. Or at least, that’s the first moment you could remember feeling anything for him more than friendship. The feelings had only grown stronger with each passing year since then, but you knew better than to ever bring them up. Honestly, your parents moving away to their forever retirement home in Florida was sort of a relief. You wouldn’t seen Matthew every time you came home and now maybe you could finally shake this crush that had ebbed and flowed, but never stopped, for the past eight years.

“The dress was a bad move,” Matthew chuckled, drawing you back to the conversation.

“Hey, I wouldn’t exactly call the outfit you’re wearing something you should bring back for your next event,” you retorted.

“My outfit should come back before that dress and that’s really saying something,” he replied, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he looked at you.

You turned your attention back to the wall, not able to hold eye contact with him for longer than a few moments at a time without blushing you. You grabbed a more recent photo, the first of many on your wall starring a Calgary Flames jersey.

“Draft day,” you informed him as you turned the photo towards him. He smiled softly at the memory as so did you.

The Tkachuks had insisted on you coming. You were family, so you were coming to Matt’s Draft Day. It was decided for you, as was your plane ticket there. It just showed up in your email one day and the the only discussion the Tkachuks had allowed about it was if you were going to the airport with them or if your mom would be dropping you off. When you saw Matthew get drafted to his top choice team, gratitude to Matt’s parents for making sure you didn’t miss this moment instantly flooded you. Matthew’s eyes were bright and he had one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen when he turned towards you after he hugged Taryn.

“You did it!” you smiled at him as he leaned in for his hug.

He was so much broader now then he used to be. The year in the OHL and another year around the sun had done him good in that department. His hugs enveloped you now, pulling you in tight to his chest as his arms circled around your shoulders.

“Thank you,” Mathew whispered to you, his hot breath against your ear combined with his lips just grazing it making your heart race, “for being my friend this whole time, even though I’m the worst sometimes.”

“Always,” you assured him as you gave him an extra tight squeeze before letting him go to make his way to the stage to put on that jersey for the first of thousands of times.

“Props to you for finding this photo on the internet,” Matthew told you, tapping the photo softly with the tip of his index finger.

“I hated all of the group photos from Draft Day. My face looked weird that day,” you replied with a shrug.

The photo was of that very hug in the stands of the arena where he’d been drafted. You’d ripped it from some article about him falling to sixth in the draft because he was supposed to go fourth. You’d been thrilled when he’d started falling a little in that moment. You knew he wanted to go to Calgary, even though it hadn’t been the most likely destination for him according to the experts.

“Your face did not look weird,” Matthew told you, his brows furrowing down in confusion. “Women.”

You hit his shoulder with the photo, making him laugh, before dropping it onto your desk with the others. You grabbed your water bottle and took a couple of swigs from it before offering it out to Matthew, an old habit that wouldn’t die. On instinct, he took it and drank a few sips.

“I have my own water,” he said mostly to himself as he closed it and put it back on the desk.

“Mom always said you didn’t look like you drank enough water, so I always gave you some of mine when I drank any,” you explained to him, even though you’d definitely been over this before.

“Old habits, huh?” he chuckled a little. “Can’t believe you’re leaving.”

“I mean, I could be back,” you sighed as you shuffled over to sit on the edge of your bed. “I don’t exactly have a job yet. That’s the only reason I’m going, you know that.”

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly applying to a ton of jobs in St. Louis,” Matthew replied, annoyance obvious in his voice. “I’m never going to see you anymore if you’re not here when I’m home.”

“I’ll come visit,” you assured him. “Amigos for life. You know that.”

Matthew waved you off. You both knew that you not living in St. Louis to be here for Matthew’s off season was going to impact your friendship. Would you ever stop being friends? Definitely not, but you wouldn’t be able to walk two doors and see him anymore, like you’d been able to do for your entire life.

His eyes were back on the photo wall when you heard a soft chuckle escape him. He yanked a photo off near the bottom of your photo wall, a more recent addition. Matthew spun on his heels to turn to face you with the photo exposed. Your nose scrunched up in mild disgust when you saw the photo he’d picked. Matthew had taped that photo up himself because he insisted it was one of the best you two had ever taken. You disagreed, but he pulled out a ‘You Owe Me’ to make sure it made the wall.

You and Matthew were absolutely trashed in the photo. It was from his twenty-first birthday party. Your mascara and eyeliner were running a little from sweat due to the club you were in. Matthew’s curls were frizzy from the heat and he had a beer in his hand. One of his arms was throw around your neck, crushing you into his side and his other arm was pointed out towards the camera, throwing a drunken peace sign in spite of the beer in his hand. You were both laughing at the camera. You were both absolute messes, but you were so happy that night, you remembered.

“It’s my fucking birthday!” Matthew screamed before he tilted his beer back against his lips and emptied the full bottle down his throat in a few swigs. “Let’s fucking go!”

You followed his lead, downing your beer a little less gracefully, some foam spilling down your chin, and a little more slowly, but you got the whole thing down, earning a cheer from Matthew and a few surrounding friends. Matthew disappeared for a few seconds to grab another beer from the bar for both of you, depositing it into your hand before the one you chugged had even settled.

“You know, you look really good tonight,” Matthew told you.

Your cheeks immediately flushed. You could feel the heat rising. Thankfully, this place was packed and you’d just chugged a beer, so Matthew couldn’t directly attribute it to him. He never complimented you like that. It was the alcohol talking, you decided.

“Thanks.” You took a sip of your beer to try and disguise the awkwardness you were feeling before continuing, “Uh, you too, birthday boy.”

Matthew smiled a lazy smile at you before throwing an arm around your neck and pulling you in. He dropped his lips to your ear and started to say something, but then the cameraman hired by the club showed up and insisted on talking photos of you two. You wondered what Matthew had been about to say, because once the guy had left, Matthew shook his head a little, then released you, like nothing had happened. Maybe something almost happened? You drank to forget it.

“Yeah, I don’t think either of us remember that too well,” you laughed a little. “I remember the morning after though.”

Matthew gagged a little at that memory. You’d spent the morning sharing the bathroom floor as your stomachs alternated trying to empty every last drop of alcohol you’d ever had the thought of drinking.

“The worst hangover I’ve ever had,” he groaned, rubbing his temples at the memory of the searing headache you’d both had. “Worth it though. Never doing it again, but worth it.”

“If you say so,” you said with a shake of your head.

“Hey, we should take one last photo before you move in front of your house,” Matthew told you. “I know you’re going to visit me and I’ll visit you and everything, but one last one before you leave St. Louis for good, when we finish packing.”

“Perfect for the ‘gram,” you joked.

“You’re trash and you know it,” Matthew informed you without missing a beat as he started to take down the photos at the top of your wall.

Before you knew it, you were sliding the last box into the moving truck. Matthew sighed with relief as your dad rolled the back of the moving truck closed, your entire life inside of it up until that moment. Everyone was happy you were finally done packing.

“One more photo?” Matthew reminded you.

“We’re not leaving until tomorrow,” you reminded him, “but now is probably a better idea.”

Unlike all of the times in the past, it was you and Matthew that forced both of your mothers to take photo after photo until you had a the perfect one. Well, until you each had a perfect one. Matthew wanted a silly one and you wanted a cute, serious one. They must have each taken fifty photos for you on the front lawn of the only house you’d ever lived in.

“Well, I guess that’s the end of this, huh?” Matthew asked you. One of his hands was on the back of his neck as he spoke. “Feels weird that someone else is going to live in this house.”

“Feels weird to me too.”

You didn’t think you’d cry, but the tears were here and they were demanding to fall. You took in a sharp breath and brought your fist up to your mouth to hide your shaking lip as you tried to keep it together. Matthew knew you too well and he had you wrapped up in his arms against his broad chest before your first sob broke through. He rubbed your back soothingly as you cried against him, soaking his t-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled as you pulled yourself together.

“Take as much time as you need,” he told you without any hesitation.

His large hands continued to rub up and down your back, heat from his palms transferring to you. You couldn’t help but wonder what this would feel like if there wasn’t a t-shirt between his skin and yours skin, but you couldn’t dwell on those thoughts. You were leaving, plain and simple. That was that. You couldn’t keep thinking about things like that, but the thoughts kept coming.

You flipped around on the air mattress that was where your real mattress used to be a few hours later. Your dad wanted to get going at the actual crack of dawn so your real mattress was already in the moving truck in your driveway, a good night’s sleep be damned. You flipped again, unsatisfied with what the first flip had done. You couldn’t stop thinking about Matthew. You’d had the urge to tell him how you felt before, but this urge was just growing stronger and stronger with each passing minute, telling you shouldn’t move, that you shouldn’t leave without telling him. Now would be the cleanest time to come clean. Now, there was a path for you to naturally shift apart if telling him ruined the way things had always been because the status quo was already in flux. Why did you want to risk your longest friendship with one of the most important people in your life?

People do crazy things when they’re in love. You were in love with your best friend and if your brain was pulling out Hercules quotes to rationalize your feelings, you were either dealing with serious repressed emotions about the move and becoming a real adult or the universe was telling you something. Even if it was the first one, you didn’t know if you were ever going to get a good night’s sleep again if you didn’t tell him at this rate. You checked your phone, 12:45am. Matthew was probably still awake. You smiled to yourself as you got to sneak out of the house for the last time, grateful the window you always used was still pretty well greased up and didn’t squeak to give away your movements.

You padded over in the dewy grass to the Tkachuk house, up to Matthew’s window. You were about to send him a text when you heard a grunt and what sounds like a large body hit the ground nearby. Your eyes went wide as a figure rose from the grass and started to come towards you. You pivoted on your foot, ready to make a mad dash for the house, until you saw that ever familiar mop of curly hair.

“Matthew?” you whisper-yelled.

“Hey,” he chucked. “Same idea, huh?”

“Doubt it,” you mumbled to yourself.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked you and you waved him off.

As you looked at him in the faint light of your phone, you questioned yourself again. Was this really the right move? Was losing him worth this risk? Was this even a risk, or should you have done this a long time ago?I t was the small part of you that had the last thought that made you open your mouth.

“Matthew, I need to tell you something,” you sighed as you raked a hand nervously through your hair.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing,” he laughed. “Rock, paper, scissors for who goes first, like old times? Best of three?”

“I want to go first,” you blurted out.

Matthew threw his hands up, a shocked look on his face. You never usually wanted to go first, always trying to make him do it. He flipped one wrist out, gesturing to give you the floor to speak. Your mouth instantly dried up and your jaw went slack. Matthew gestured again, looking like an impatient conductor as he waited for you to speak.

“You know, you actually have to go if you want to-”

“I’m in love with you,” you spat out in a rush, so fast that you weren’t even sure you understood what came out of your mouth when it floated up to your own ears, so you tried again. “I’m in love with you, Matty. I have been for years. Look, I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way. I get it, but I didn’t want to leave and not tell you.”

“Why now?” was all Matthew could say.

You’d know this boy your entire life, but you could not figure out what emotion was coming across his face. There were elements you were used to from him, furrowed brows, downturned corners of his mouth, but there was something you couldn’t identify, something new.

“I just, I couldn’t leave and not tell you,” you sighed, exasperated mostly with yourself in that moment. “I should’ve told you a while ago, but I was so scared that I was going to ruin out friendship, which I’m totally ruining right now, I can tell, but I’m going to just pretend I’m not so I can finish this thought. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I didn’t think you felt the same way and I didn’t want to have to deal with that feeling. I mean, I’m pretty sure you don’t feel the same way now, but at least this way I won’t see you from my bedroom window every single day as I deal with this.”

Matthew let out a long breath as his hands came over his nose and mouth, fingertips pressing together. He shook his head from left to right as he processed what you’d said. You didn’t know if he’d even say anything at all as he turned away from you. Then you heard Matthew start to laugh, softly and slowly, then louder as he turned back to face you.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” he managed to get out through the laughter.

“This is somehow going way better and way worse than I imagined,” you mumbled to yourself as Matthew continued to laugh.

“Of course I’m fucking in love with you too.”

Matthew’s laughter calmed when your eyes met his. You were hesitant. Matthew was forever pushing your buttons and pulling your string, but you didn’t think he’d joke about something like this.

“Jesus, that’s what I came out here to tell you. How could I not be in love with you?” he asked you as he started smiling. “You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

You reached for him in a way you never had before. Your hands found the back of his neck. His hands reached for your waist, pulling you in tight, as his lips met yours for the first time. This, this is what it’s supposed to feel like. Like coming home. No, like you’d been home this whole time and had finally just realized it.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey imagine #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction

354 notes · View notes

lycaran · 3 years

Text

Meet Lonnie

So uh...May have made a Hardenshipping fankid.

His name's Lonnie, an orphan street kid that Archie and Maxie adopted who counts as a fankid in my eyes, god damn it.

I can’t draw muscles or children to save my life.

Originally @cryptidanaphafsi did this I with their fankid I believe?

Info under the cut because I really started to ramble about details...A lot.

Bad Quality picture, but his adult versions both have a keystone in the middle of their mask that they use for Mega Evolution.

Notes:

RSE canon is Emerald, which leads in Alpha Sapphire in the future, though in this canon way, RSE events get resolved Without a protagonist. Hypothetical game futures for the SM and USUM games.

RSE Version -

-Still living on the streets at this point, 8-10 in age.

-Met a few times over the course of the story, usually found hiding around a corner after an encounter with Maxie or Archie(outside of hideout encounters), seems mostly in awe of how cool the plans seem.

-Selectively mute, if talked to he'll make gestures towards the player but since the player is about ten, all you really get from talking to him is "...."

-Jumpy, running off as soon as the player is done talking

-Vitiligo

-In the Sapphire & Emerald versions of the game, post game, he's absolutely Terrified of Kyogre, developing Aquaphobia as he grows older.

-Sometime post game, Archie and Maxie pick him up bc he still seems to tag along just behind one of them, and hey, the kid needs a home. And when they’ve patched things up, they’re really good dad’s.

ORAS Version, constants-

- Adopted pre-game and raised by Maxie and Archie before they split bc of differing ideals...again.

- Mid-twenties.

- Team Magma Admin.

- Aquaphobia from past trauma, selectively mute.

- I can't draw muscles but he's definitely the strongest person there, thanks to Archie and a bit of Matt.

- As an adult, Vitiligo patches have spread and caused part of his hair to grow in white.

- Personality wise, he's a rather nice man, only really being a sore loser. And takes after Maxie alot in the brains department, including dumbassery.

- He’s dating both an Aqua Grunt and a Magma Grunt, don’t tell his dads though. A grunt in the Magma hideout asks you if you want to place a bet on that happens when the bosses find out, then realizes you are Not one of the grunts, and runs off.

- Aqua Grunt is named Dew

- Magma Grunt is named Ashe

- I will draw them eventually, they will be mentioned elsewhere.

Omega Ruby -

-he appears somewhat sporadically, usually around Maxie. Fought once at Mossdeep city when the player beats the gym, viewing the player as a threat to Maxie's goal...and wanting to make use of himself, aquaphobia keeping him from following the rest of the team down to the Seafloor Cavern. Team: Crobat, Camerupt, Mightyena, Sealeo.

-A Grunt, Ashe, follows him around and acts as an interpreter. Talking directly to Lonnie is always "..." before the grunt buts in to explain what he's trying to say.

-When defeated by the player, he'll turn to the grunt, signing furiously, only for the grunt to exclaim "I can't say that to a child!" before Lonnie leaves in a huff.

- During the Delta Episode he's fought at the Magma Hideout, without Ashe, absolutely Livid about what Zinnia did to Maxie, and fighting the player as soon as they enter, seeing them as just something else that'll upset his dad. Team: Crobat, Camerupt, Mightyena, Walrein.

- Post Delta Episode, you'll actually find him alone in a house on the Battle Resort. When talked to, he still won't talk, but after interacting with him Maxie walks in to explain that he and his son were there, trying to lay low, relax a bit, and they're waiting on "a certain someone" to show up for a talk.

Alpha Sapphire Version, aka the Canon Version-

- Not very active story wise, always seen rather ominously popping up mere seconds after an interaction with Team Aqua. He doesn't have an interpreter this time, so all the player really gets is "...." then a yes/no text box before he leaves.

- Appears on Mt. Chimney with Maxie to try and stop Team Aqua's little attempt. Maxie will actually translate some of what Lonnie's trying to say, and while it would be nice, he doesn't exactly explain Why Lonnie tends to be tailing Team Aqua, Archie most specifically

-And ho boy. When Kyogre gets awoken, this poor man is having the Worst day.

- In Sootopolis, he's seen quite visibly shaking, signing Something at Archie, who might be having a "Oh shit." moment and a half because his Son is VERY MUCH AFRAID OF WATER, AND VERY MUCH CAN. NOT. SWIM.

- So yeah. Not a fun time.

- Half of what he's signing is ruined by how shaky his hands are. Ashe looks ready to strangle Archie, and Dew is reeling from the reality and Actually starts cursing Archie out as soon as the player leaves to handle Kyogre.

- Tbh if the two boys didn’t start trying to murder Archie first, Maxie might’ve.

- When Kyogre is captured, when the player leaves and all is said and done, he gives the player a piece of Cameruptite with a small little Thank You note.

- Battle Resort/Battle Maison, he is once again found in a house, but this time Maxie is already there. And once the player talks to the two, Archie walks in, but when that happens, the player is asked to leave so they can have a Family chat.

Sun & Moon Games-

- Okay this is just me being self indulgent and including him in my favorite games of the series, plus it’s just neat.

- Basically, he’s there on a honeymoon with Ashe and Dew.

- Even after the teams disbanded, he’s very partial to his Magma outfit. Only real change coming coming from the removal of the Magma symbols on his vest. Still keeping the combined symbols on his mask.

- More or less appears as a cameo. The only reason they’re even having a Honeymoon in Alola is because it has both Water and Volcanos near eachother.

- Shows up in post game, investigating the Altar of the Sunne/Moone as the idea of other worlds really peaked his interest.

- Funny Images: 6′0″ string bean and a 5′7″ man with average muscle trying to carry a 6′5″ man with muscle from hell because the waves touched him and he freaked out.

Ultra Sun & Moon Games -

- Mostly the same.

- With the addition of the player actually getting his help against Rainbow Rocket

- When reaching the mansion, Lonnie will be there. Along with Ashe and Dew.

- He’ll then “ask” which side the player wants to take on, fighting either Archie or Maxie depending on choice. Vs. Archie, he takes Ashe with him, Vs. Maxie, he takes Dew. The other of his husbands goes with the player to help handle the other boss.

- After this, you can find Lonnie, Dew, and Ashe at the battle tree.

- Funny Images: Trying to get Lonnie onto Aether, a man made island in the middle of the ocean.

Pokespe Version -

- His age is more me throwing darts at a board trying to guess when shit happens.

- He’s alot more playful and joking in this version.

Ruby Sapphire Chapter -

- 16

-Actually adopted prior to the Ruby&Sapphire Chapter, but in a surprising twist, stays mainly with Archie.

- Interacts with Ruby and Sapphire once, maybe twice through the whole Manga.

- Hard for Archie to be intimidating with a giant of a teen in a life jacket clinging to him everytime they get near water, but he makes it work

- He stays with Arche and team Aqua for two reasons and two reasons only

- One, he lacks past trauma with Kyogre in pokespe, thus doesn’t fear water as much and can stand to be around it more. Two, alchoholics scare him more than water ever could.

-Along with that, Archie also has the safer public persona, so win win on his part

- Lonnie, being a teen, does tend to wander though. Barely seen for most of the chapters. When Archie and Maxie have their fight, he's there for a split second, before letting out his Crobat and fleeing.

-I don't have it all ironed out, but basically, the whole battles between Magma and Aqua through the whole arc have slowly built up this fear in Lonnie's brain when it comes to his dad's, and this is the tipping point.

- Sadly, both leaders are a bit preoccupied to notice at first that he's gone, and it's a fullblown panic after the fact.

-Sadly tho, this doesn't slow down their plans. But Blaise and Amber are put in charge of trying to track him down and find him.(Not in a bad way, more in a Extremely worried parents with a missing son way)

- Cue end of arc.

Emerald Arc

-still 16

-Makes brief cameos, he tends to linger around the back.

- Actually, screw it, I'll make this pretty later but he and Emerald do become friends.

- Has a small interaction with Emerald, writing about how he finds his equipment cool, and is in awe of how he calms pokemon.

-And boy oh does this lead to some Fun

- Cut the confrontation with Guile in the cave, the first Jirachi attempt

- Alot changes here.

- First of all, while Jirachi still escapes, Guile lingers for a moment. Looking at Lonnie for a long moment. And while he does 'reflect' back the attacks with his sword, he sends the attack flying off into a wall instead of at Emerald and Lonnie.

- Later, Guile actually snatches the poor kid, pulling off somewhere just to have a few moments to make sure he's okay

- If you know the manga, you know it's gonna be revealed to Lonnie at this point that Guile is, in fact, Archie. And while he tries to avoid the details, he does tell Lonnie he needs Jirachi to fix things

- Lonnie assumes, sadly naive, that this has to do with Maxie and their family. Even asking Archie where his other dad is, only to be met with silence.

- That doesn't settle well with him, actually demanding to know what happens, atleast as much as you can demand when you can’t talk. The last he heard about them was nearly destroying Hoenn so what happened?

- Archie doesn’t tell him, straight up Refuses to tell him what happened.

- This does not go well. Leading to Lonnie once more running off.

- Lonnie keeps in touch with Emerald after the arc is over, basically adopted him as a little brother because they’re both weird looking kids, Emerald being unusually short, and Lonnie having Vitiligo.

- He runs into Amber after this and kind of just, vibes there, treats Amber like an uncle, and that’s who looks after him for the next few years.

ORAS Arc -

- 20

-Lives with Amber, mostly helping the man with fishing and all around, just trying to have someone around he can 'talk' to without needing an interpreter or to write down every word he says.

-Team Aqua....2!

-He does end up joining the New Team Aqua, since he feels more safe with them in Pokespe. Along with this, he’s curious about where they came from and what’s going on here.

-Looks most like my concept sketch for him in this version.

- Eventually just, disepears in the midst of fighting. He's learned enough and doesn't want to face that all.

- Listen when I tell you. When he sees Maxie and Archie, he's pissed.

-And when The Dustening happens...

- He actually does cry. Hell, it's probably the only time he speaks, begging in a hoarse voice he never uses for his dad's to stay there. Just for once. Let them be a family just for Once.

- It doesn't work.

- Funny Images: Emerald, looking up at Lonnie who is like 3-4 times their height: “I AM GOING TO STEAL YOUR KNEECAPS!!!!” Lonnie, amused, signing: “You-can-try.”

-Pokemon Seen: Crobat, Sharpedo, Sandslash.

Sun and Moon Arc -

- 22

-He actually appears here.

- Listen, he's a smart man, and he knows a lot.

-Appears after that small time skip after Sun and Moon disepear through the portals, ultimately he's here investigating the portals.

- He 'talks' with Kukui and Burnet to try and figure out what's going on.

-I don't know how it'd be incorporated, but basically, he's trying to figure out where the Hell his dad's are. And if these Wormholes can help him, by god is he going to use them

- Knows that, most likely, they’re dead and gone for good. But still holds out hope that somewhere out there, they’re still alive.

- He's still wearing the life jacket. Less for Aesthetic, more because he’s scared shitless about being on an island.

- Are this chapter is where he would have started dating Dew and Ashe, having met them when that whole, other Team Aqua & Magma were made in ORAS.

#pokemon oc #pokemon fankid #hardenshipping fankid #of sorts #lisTEN HE COUNTS IN MY EYES GOD DAMN IT #They raised him. He's there kid #I'm not good at oc shit but uh. yeah #lyca-art #oc: Lonnie

11 notes · View notes

kylo-rens-scar · 4 years

Text

Weekend (Clyde Logan x Reader) 6k (!!!)

Note: Two years of extreme on and off writing and now I finally have something! Answering the prompt of “I'm so excited to see this and currently am looking forward! :D How about something fluffy as a good start for the audience?” from @creamyvanillalove Hope you and everyone enjoys it! This is actually part of a series of multiple one-shots I have cooking, because thinking about my dream life with Clyde Logan has been one of the only constants in my life for the past few years.

Sleeping in until 10 am on a Saturday was something rare in the Logan household especially with 22 month old triplets. Clyde came home around 2:30 from the bar and was still sleeping. You kiss him on the cheek and get out of bed, making your way to the bathroom. You throw on some yoga pants and wash your face. It’s surprisingly quiet in the house, and you thank the lord above the boys are still asleep. You have some much needed emails to catch up on.

You walk into the kitchen and turn on the coffee, and start to think what to make for breakfast today. You spot some overly ripe bananas Clyde swore he was going to eat a few days ago when you bought them, and yet there they were. Banana pancakes it is then. The boys are not too picky with breakfast so this would be easy for everyone. And Clyde would finally eat the bananas.

You are finally able to sit down at the dining room table to check your email when the first fussing is heard from matts monitor.

You make your way to his room and slowly open the door to find him standing up in his crib, rubbing his sleepy eyes and scrunching his face

“Good morning sweet boy,” you coo as you grab his glasses and put them on him. He yawns and makes grabby hands up at you and you pick him up. After quickly changing his diaper, you scoop him back up and carry him to the upstairs family room. You put Matt on the couch and turned the tv on quietly to Paw Patrol. Someday, you want to get they boys a dog, but they’re too young. Matt is immediately engaged to what ever show is on and you go back to finally checking your email.

Ben is the next to get up, but he sounds more of screaming bloody murder when he wakes up, something you pray to god he grows out of. And as usual, he’s fine, nothing’s wrong with him. As soon as you open his bedroom door, the screaming stops and regular crying begins. Very typical of Ben. The crying turns into sniffles when you pick him up.

After another quick diaper change, ben is plopped down next to Matt, both now engaged in the morning cartoon. Taking after his father, you know kylo will very much sleep until noon or later, so you let him sleep a little longer, so you can get to those dang emails.

——

About halfway through your inbox, you hear shuffling downstairs, and then slow footsteps up the stairs. He walks up to Matt and Ben an ruffles their hair before sitting down next to you on the couch. They boys were too engaged in to the tv to really notice their father. Clyde puts his arm around you then kisses your temple. You’re finishing up you last reply and smile.

“Where’s kylo?” Clyde yawns.

“Still sleeping, I checked on him when I got the other two up and he was still sound asleep.”

“Hmmph” he grunts as he sips some of his coffee. Clyde isn’t that big of a morning person, especially after a long night at the bar.

You close your computer and and stretch. Y’all have a busy day today and you were pretty sure Clyde didn’t hear you last night about it.

“Honey you and the boys are getting hair cuts this afternoon then we have that football tailgate party with the colwells tonight but before then I have to run to the store and get some things for them. I told Them I’d bring dessert and some tortilla chips. Clyde did you even hear a word I said?”

“Huh? Yeah I got everythin’ what time we leaving?”

“I’m hopin’ by 1:45, your sister said anytime after 1:30 was fine for us to head over to the salon”

“Why ain’t you getting you’re hair done?”

“Because I get mine done during the week when the boys are at daycare”

“Huh”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a little bit, Clyde was still waking up and the boys were still glued to the tv, with occasional chatter from them. It was about 11:15 and you decided to get Kylo up finally. You told Clyde to bring Matt and Ben downstairs for breakfast while you woke up the last triplet.

———

Kylo was sound asleep still when you walked into his room. You opened the binds slowly to let the sunshine in. He stretched and yawned, then standing in his crib with a sleepy smile.

Kylo was the furthest along in potty training. He usually could hold it in at night and sometimes let you know when he had to go. Matt was the next furthest but usually didn’t have a dry night or could hold it in time to tell you. He tries as best he can but gets frustrated a lot. And then Ben showed absolutely no interest yet.

It was another dry night so after you took his diaper off you set him on his training potty. You praised him after he went and you let him put a sticker on the potty poster before heading back down with the rest of your family.

Clyde had Ben sitting on the counter, Matt in one arm and had a carton of eggs in his other hand. Ben was just about to get into the flour before you quickly whisked it away from his reach. Disappointed, Ben huffed and crossed his arms and looked at the ground, something he copied from Clyde a couple months ago. You ruffled his hair and helped Clyde by taking the egg carton and giving him kylo.

“Darlin I had things under control down here, we was just about to start fixin breakfast.” He protested

“You can help by putting the kids in their seats and getting their sippy cups.” You reply, kissing his cheek. “also kylo had another dry night!”

“Good job bud!” Clyde says and kisses his forehead.

With breakfast underway and the boys settled down in their seats, Clyde takes a moment to stare out into the backyard. He noticed the leaves in the tree line were beginning to rust into beautiful crimsons and oranges. Fall is Clyde’s favorite season. The changing of the leaves, cooler days, shorter days, warm drinks, you’d think he’s a basic white girl. Some mornings he’d see some turkey or deer rummaging in the grass, even a black bear once. This morning was quiet out there, nothing to be seen.

“Clyde honey, are you okay? I’ve been callin at ya for the past few minutes” You ask walking up him an putting your hand on his arm.

“Wha? Yea I’m fine darlin’, just zoned out for a lil bit. Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” He apologized and kissed your cheek.

“Well breakfast is ready and we got a big day ahead of us.”

———

After breakfast, you take the boys to your bathroom to bathe them and you send Clyde upstairs to get their outfits. You were smart enough the night before when you put the boys to sleep that you had their clothes out and ready.

Bathing three squirmy little boys was something you managed to master very quickly. Each one liked doing their own thing in the bath. Matt enjoys drawing with the bath crayons on the tub wall, Ben likes any kind of bath toys and Kylo prefers the bathtub stickers. Kylo is usually first, then Matt, and finally Ben. As each little one was finished you wrapped them in their towels and sat them on your vanity bench in the bathroom. Most of the time they will sit there and wait for Clyde to get them ready one by one, but sometimes they crawl down and scamper off to the closet and get into trouble. Today was one of those days.

Matt was sitting perfectly content on the bench with Kylo until he spotted his daddy’s shiny new belt buckle on the closet floor. Clyde won it at the fair a few weeks ago in the arm wrestling tournament.

Clyde was still upstairs grabbing the boys clothes at this point and you just started rinsing the shampoo out of Ben’s hair when Matt bounded towards the closet. Kylo was thankfully still on the bench and looked like he wasn’t moving off.

“Matthew James, you best not be getting into trouble in there...” you warn as you finish washing ben.

After discovering the shiny object and carefully inspecting it, Matt decided to run over to show you. But the towel was in the way and Matt tripped on it, causing him face plant straight onto the bathroom rug, followed by crying. You come to his rescue and scooped him into your arms. Clyde is back downstairs and walked into the bathroom to investigate the commotion. Ben and Kylo were wrapped in towels on the bench, both sliding off and shuffling over to Clyde.

“I’ll get these two ready?” He asked, herding the boys out of the bathroom.

“Please, Clyde. We might be a minute” you reply.

Matt has tears streaming down his face, and you see the worst possible place he got a rug burn: his chin. And to top it off, the burn was very much indeed raw. Ouch. Wrapping Matt back up in his towel you sit him down on your counter and open the first aid drawer. His chin and left palm had carpet burns.

“It’s gonna be okay baby, just a couple of little boo boos, hmm?” You try to reassure him.

After the small fiasco and a couple bandaids later, you and Matt emerge from the bathroom, Matt still bundled up in his towel. You hand him over to Clyde, who kissed Matt on the cheek and Clyde started to get him ready while you got dressed and ready yourself.

———

“Darlin I got all three ready to go, should I start loadin everyone in the car yet?” Clyde asked, peering into your closet. You were getting your boots on.

“Yes babe thank you I’ll be right out. I’ll text mellie we’re heading out now.” You nod, grabbing your coat. While making sure you had everything before heading out to the garage, mellie texted back, telling you not to rush. You get out to the suv to see Clyde in the passenger seat, turned around towards the boys with a stern look on his face. As you open the door you are greeted with a chorus of crying.

“BEN QUIT SMACKIN YOUR BROTHER HE AINT DONE NOTHIN WRONG TO YA!” Clyde bellowed to the back seat as you stepped into the drivers seat.

“What in the world has happened in the 10 minutes I was gone? Hmm?” You ask your husband.

“I swear everythin was for fine, Ben started smacking Kylo for lord knows why then Kylo hit back and also took Matt’s stuffed animal and threw it into your footbed.” Clyde motioned towards your feet.

Nodding, you pick up the stuffed animal giving it back to Matt. Like Clyde, you turn around in you seat to look at the boys. “Now, I don’t wanna have any more crocodile tears in this car or for the rest of today, got it?” You chide, elbowing Clyde for support.

“Uhh yeah boys, don’t get momma upset today.” he adds.

Knowing that little pep talk probably did nothing for them, but it was the thought that counts, you face the front again and start up your car. The boys remained quiet, except for the occasional unintelligible babble to one another, which was normal. Clyde was adjusting his prosthetic, humming contently when it was to his liking.

———

When you got to the salon, you saw that Ben had fallen back asleep on the drive. You gently get him out of his seat first and pass him over to Clyde, along with the diaper bag. Matt and Kylo were easy to get out of the car, but Matt insisted on being carried in, not loosening his grip on your top. Locking the car, you and your family walk in to the salon to see mellie near her chair, checking her phone. She looks up to Clyde and immediately comments on his hair.

“Good lord almighty Clyde, you’re growin a mop! According to my records it’s been 8 dang months since you last been here and honey it shows.” She says.

“Now Mellie you and I both know you done cut it too damn short last time so I been lettin it grow out again, short hair don’t suit me. My ears stick out.” Clyde huffed.

“Well then how ya want it done then? Last time you said ‘shorten it up for me, it keeps bothering me at work’ and now you said it was too short!”

“I dunno, just don’t do what ya did last time I guess?!”

“Clyde Logan of you don’t tell me ima buzz all it off!”

“Okay fine then, ask Y/N!”

The both turn towards you, Clyde lookin all worked up and mellie looking annoyed at her brother. You crack a smile and roil your eyes.

“Wet is head down first and then let’s go from there?” You offer.

“Sounds good to me, who’s first?” She replies, looking to all your boys.

“I think we’ll start with mister Matthew, but he’s gonna have to sit on my lap it seems like. He tripped this mornin after bath time, and now he doesn’t wanna go near the floor now.” You sigh, stroking Matts blonde curls.

Matt was very anxious during his haircut, lots of squirming and tears. It’s something that has happened the past couple of times, and you and Clyde were a little concerned. You make a mental note to call the doctor about it. Ben was next and was very good in the chair. He just loved the attention, from Aunt Mellie, Clyde, and you. Kylo was calm too, but his hair grows really slow so he didn’t have much cut.

All three boys had different haircuts, with Kylos the longest and Bens is the shortest, with Matt being in the middle of the two.

Clyde was last to go, you pull up a picture of him from a while back to show Mellie a desired length. Clyde asked to look but both you and his sister declined his request, saying that it was gonna be fine. Clyde argued that it’s his hair and his head so he should be able choose his hair style.

You narrow your eyes at him, “Clyde William Logan I swear on the lord himself, you are actin far worse than the boys right now! Now you need to trust me and your sister and if you don’t we’re gonna just buzz all of it off!” You snap. He sighs in defeat and nods, finally letting go of the whole situation.

After all of the boys had their hair cut and styled, you tried squaring away the bill with your sister in law. That was impossible because all she said “y’all are my family I don’t need to be chargin’ ya’ll!” She laughed.

“You sure? They were extra rowdy I don’t want it to be any trouble to you!” You say, trying to hand her $40.

“oh stop it, you’re gonna start insulting me!” She retorted.

You roll your eyes and put the money back in your wallet. “ Alright then, at least come over for supper one night? It’s the least we can do.” You know mellie can’t resist your beef brisket or your Mac n cheese.

“Oh alright!” She finally agrees.

———

“Darlin are you sure you know where ya goin? I thought cooper and them was on the other side of town,” Clyde commented when you pulled out of the salon.

“No babe they do I just gotta run into the Kroger and grab the chips”

“I thought you was bringing a dessert too?”

“You’re right I am. The boys and I made cookies and brownies yesterday afternoon but I already put them in the back of my car this morning when I woke up. “

“Okay, what kinda cookies y’all bake?”

“Just sugar, the boys helped decorated for about 7 minutes before they got restless so only a few look a little crazy. I did the rest when they went to bed.”

“Ya think I can tell who did what cookies?” Clyde smirks.

“Oh definitely,” you giggle.

Once you guys were pulling into the driveway, you see one of the dogs trailing you to the side of your suv.

“Who is it Clyde? I didn’t catch the fur color too well.” You ask.

“I think it’s Hank, he’s the pointer, right?”

“Yeah he’s the pointer, keep an eye out that he doesn’t get too close to the car.”

“Mommy mommy mommy!” You hear Matt from the back.

“Yes baby what’s the matter?” You glance in the rear view mirror.

“Potty mommy!” He whines.

“Okay okay we’re almost there, you can make it Matt,” you try to encourage him as you pull up to a grassy spot in the side yard.

“If you wanna run him in you can, I’ll try to get everyone else organized.” Clyde offers as you open your door.

“Thank you babe that’d be great,” you say unbuckling Matt.

“Mommy...!” Matt reaches out for you. You grab the diaper bag too and run inside. You say your ‘hey y’all clydes coming in with the boys’ and ‘gimme one second we have a potty situation’ as you b-line it to the powder bathroom with Matthew in you arms.

Before even getting the door closed you see Matt scrunch his face and tense up his body- it was too late. You sigh. Even though he still had his diaper on, you sit him on the toilet to finish and go through with the motion of using the toilet. You still praise him and even flush the toilet together

Matt starts crying when you change him. You have a feeling it’s because he didn’t make it in time again to the toilet. You feel bad for him, you know he is trying his best but he can’t seem to get the hang of letting you or Clyde know in time. It’s just something you will have to work on with him.

“Shh it’s okay baby mommy isn’t upset. I’m happy you let me know you had to go potty,” you try to calm him down. He stops crying after a little bit and you kiss him on the cheek.

You pick Matt up again to carry him to his brothers and the rest of the kids. They were all in the basement playing various things. Ben and kylo were with some older boys playing with trucks. You set Matt down with them and ruffled your other two boys hair before heading back up. All three were entertained with the others so you let them be.

As you headed back up to everyone else you see Clyde talking with cooper and lance. You grab a beer from one of the coolers and walk over to Clyde. He kisses your head and puts his arm around you.

“Didn’t sound good from what I got to hear” he sighed.

“Yeah poor thing didn’t make it again. He needs to tell us sooner, I think he hasn’t connected that he needs to tell us way before versus right before.” You leave it at that.

“Mhmm. I brought everythin in too. Game got pushed to 5:30 cuz rain I think.

“Oh ok.” You respond. You take a sip of beer before properly saying hello to everyone else.

A little into the first quarter you send Clyde down to check on the boys and give them some sippy cups. He comes back up with nothing unusual to report, everyone is still content. With that, you decide to get some food for yourself.

———

At halftime you are talking with Maggie and Carter about the fall carnival at school when you see ben crawling up the stairs and heading straight to you.

“MAMMA MAMMA!!!” He wailed as you picked him up, not sure if he was ok or not.

“Yes little man what’s wrong?” You ask, looking for anything off.

“Food?” He asks, pointing to the counter with all the food.

“Of course baby. Do you know if brothers want food too?” You ask him.

“Yea.” Ben nods, pointing to the other two who were making their way up the stairs too.

You set him back on the ground and walked over to the plates, getting one for each and getting them a few things. All three are at you feet, on their tip toes to see what foods there are. You ignore their begging for straight desserts and chips, and scold at them for trying to reach up for food too.

“Cmon guys, let’s get over to the table” you say as they follow you back to where you were sitting. All three fit on the bench seat together so you helped each one up and gave them their plate. Once they were all eating and have mostly quiet down, you sat back down and took a sip of your beer. Both Maggie and carter looked shocked at what they just watched you orchestrated.

“Girl how in the world do you do it with triplets? It looked like y’all rehearsed this or something before y’all got here! I am so impressed with your patience and mom skills.” Carter laughed.

“Yeah that’s more impressive than the game honestly,” Maggie adds.

“Awe well thanks y’all. I can tell you it’s not always this organized, every once and a while all three seem to be on the same wave length and they’ll listen. And I’m even impressed considering they did not get a chance to nap before getti- Kylo do not grab food off Matt’s plate you have the exact same thing on yours!” You snapped over to the boys.

“See? It’s not always perfect.” You suppressed a giggle.

———

After the game was over, everyone still stayed behind a little while longer to socialize and help clean up. The kids were all back downstairs watching a movie, with most of young ones passed out on the floor with some blankets.

You head downstairs about 10 to see how your boys were. Sure enough they were still up, eyes glued to the tv. Getting them ready for church tomorrow was going to be fun.

You head back up to get Clyde to help you get the kids. He yawns and follows you down, stealing a kiss at the stairs landing. You turn the lights on downstairs and announce to all the kids it time and Clyde added “yea y’all better hurry I heard y’all’s parents are gonna leave without ya!” He says with a straight face. All the kids scramble up to their own parents, all with looks of fear of being left.

“CLYDE WHATCHA TELLIN MY KIDS DOWN THERE??” You two hear lance yell down. Clyde bursts into a roar of laughter.

You and Clyde gather your three and their shoes, which unfortunately happened to be littered all around the basement.

“Momma?”

“Yes kylo?” You respond as you put his other shoe on.

“Go home now?”

“Yes we’re all going home now.”

“Oh okay.”

You get all the boys in their seats and start the car, Clyde still saying his goodbyes to everyone. The boys were overtired and grumpy, Matt surprisingly the worst. Clyde opens the backseat door to put the leftovers on the floor when Matt screams and tries to kick and push Clyde away from him. Ben and kylo start crying as a response.

“Ow- Matthew quit it!!” Clyde says and shuts the door, retreating to the passenger seat. “What in the hell is up with him and the other two?” Clyde asked you.

“No nap today. Get your seatbelt on so we can go. These three need to go to sleep. “ you plead.

The drive home was fun to say the least. All three boys did not fall asleep in the car and were fussy when y’all got home. You get the boys upstairs and ready for bed while Clyde gets them sippy cups of milk.

Once all three were changed for bed, Clyde was upstairs helping you get each one settled in their cribs. Kylo was the first to go down. Once he had his sippy cup he got super sleepy and was asleep in no time. Matt was next and was overtired to the point he didn’t want th lay down. He just stood up in his crib and sobbed, wanting to be picked back. You and Clyde felt bad but knew if you picked him back up it would only make it worse. You kissed his forehead and put his sippy cup in his crib with him and you let him hash it out by himself. Ben was fast asleep in clyde’s arms when he handed him to you. You kiss him on the cheek before setting him down.

With all the baby monitors on and alert, you and your husband head back down to your room. All the monitors were quiet, even Matt’s which meant he gave up and went to sleep. You sigh and kick your boots off, walking in your bathroom to take your makeup off and change out of your clothes. Clyde went off into the kitchen which meant he either went for a glass of milk or a late night snack before bed. You changed into one of his big old T-shirts he doesn’t wear that much. Partially because it’s neon green and well, Clyde doesn’t wanna look like a damn highlighter in public. He only wears it sometimes if he’s doing yard work or sick at home. All the other times it’s in your pajama drawer. Clyde doesn’t understand how that god ugly shirt looks so adorable on you, even if it goes to right above your knees and you practically are swimming in it.

You quietly head to the kitchen to see Clyde halfway through a pb&j. You lean against the island across from him and watch him eat.

“Did you not eat over there during the game?” You ask genuinely curious. Not only was there the typical game day bites, but there were also burgers and hot dogs on the grill.

“I did, I just wanted a little something before bed, wanna a bite?” He offers.

“No thank you, I’ll be in bed. Don’t forget to turn off the lights out here before coming into the bedroom.” You say, standing on your tip toes to kiss his cheek before head you the bedroom.

———

You’re settled in bed on Pinterest when Clyde walks in, leaving a trail of his clothes to the bed wearing only his boxers. He takes his prosthetic arm off and carefully places it on his night stand before getting into bed. You shut your phone off and turn to face Clyde, scooting close to him too. He leans to kiss you and you only scoot even closer to him. You drape an arm over his waist and tangle your legs with his.

“We goin to church tomorrow mornin’?” He asks, his hand starting to wander down your side.

“Not until after lunch for evening service. The boys don’t have bible nursery tomorrow morning and I already said we might not be there until the afternoon,” you say.

Clyde grunts in satisfaction with your answer. He was hoping to not have to wake up early for church.

His hand settles for your hip and he kisses your forehead. You exchange I love yous and both of you fall asleep rather quickly, in each other’s arms.

You two are both awakened to the crying coming from a monitor. You roll onto your back and rub your eyes before looking to see which child it is. You look and see it from bens, so you head upstairs to see what the fuss is all about, Clyde close behind you. Coming into his room you see his stuffed animal fell out of the crib, away from his reach. You pick up the toy and pick up ben too, kissing him on the cheek. He wraps an arm around your neck and holds the stuffed animal with the other, when you see Clyde walk in after checking the other two.

He mouths an “all good” with a thumb up, indicating Matt and kylo were still asleep. Ben quickly falls back asleep in your arms, so you put him back in his crib and head back downstairs with Clyde.

Back in bed, Clyde laid on his back while you curled up under his arm. You two fell back to sleep almost instantly.

———

The next morning, you are woken up by Clyde sliding into bed-with kylo in his arms. You blink again to see if you were still sleeping, but sure enough Clyde was putting kylo down in your bed, with ben and Matt, who were also still sleeping You close you eyes and try to fall back asleep for a little bit longer. Ben woke up first, Clyde picking him up and holding him on his lap.

“Daddy, mommy sleeping?” You hear Ben ask.

“Yeah buddy we gotta stay quiet for mommy” Clyde replied, whispering and putting a finger over his lips for him to be quiet. Ben nods.

You managed to doze back off for about 45 minutes until you feel someone crawl over you.

Barely open an eye to see its kylo, staring intensely at your face.

“Mamma? You sleeping?” He asks, poking your cheek.

“Yes baby, mommy is sleeping!” You exaggerate and flip over to you back and cover your eyes and loudly fake snore. You hear three little giggles you continue to loudly snore until you feel the other two crawl on top of you. All three were bursting with laughter as they sat on top of you. You finally exaggerate a yawn and a stretch, rubbing your eyes and acting completely surprised when to see the boys on top of you.

“What are ALL three of y’all doin!? How’d y’all get in mommy and daddy’s bed?!” You say with a fake surprised voice and look up at your husband. Clyde looked away towards the window and took an innocent sip of coffee.

————

For a moment, you thought about just not going to church today. You could say Clyde or one of the boys are sick, or even yourself. The idea was nice, but wouldn’t sit well with your conscience as the day went on. Clyde was in a good mood today, something you rarely see on a Sunday. He never cared too much for church, thought it was a waste of a day for getting dressed and then being packed into a room with people. A lot of Sunday’s it was just you and the boys who went to morning service, with Clyde showing up for lunch and afternoon activity/service. Clyde would get home at sometimes 3 in the morning from the bar so you let him sleep in.

“Babe you want me to get you coffee? Clyde offers, you nod in response. The 5 of y’all were still in bed, all cuddled up watching a Disney movie. The boys wanted to watch Tangled- for about the 15th time this past month.

“Momma? Has some?” Matt asks you, pointing at the coffee Clyde just handed you.

“No baby you can’t have any,” you calmly reply, taking a sip yourself.

“Why?” Matt presses, pouting a little.

“It’s very hot and not good for little boys” you answer.

“Why?” He asks again. You sigh, ready to answer again when Clyde butts in.

“Mommy said no Matthew,” he sternly warns him, knowing this may develop into a tantrum or the other two will get involved. It’s the later.

Ben and kylo turn to you and Clyde, now curious to try both of your coffees, with Matt still wanting the coffee too.

You look at Clyde dead in the eyes and raise a brow. “You’re coffee cooled down?” You ask him. He narrowed his eyes at you and nods, not sure of your little scheme. Clyde takes his coffee black, while you on the other hand have cream and heaps of sugar. You know if the boys tried yours they would enjoy it but if they had your husbands they most certainly would not ask to try it again for a long time.

“Alright alright y’all win, you can try Daddy’s coffee! But be careful, it’s a little hot!” You warn and Clyde hands you his mug. “Matthew you can try it first ok?” You say as Matt scoots up to you. You grab the spoon from your mug and swirl it around clydes coffee before gathering a small sip on the spoon for Matt. He took an eager sip and immediately spit it back out, all over your pajamas. He scrunches his face and you start to see some waterworks. You smile ever so slightly and Clyde chuckles and takes his coffee back. You hold Matt’s face and look at him. “See baby? Mommy said you wouldn’t like it, but you wanted to try it, which is ok! I’m glad you tried it, now you know that it’s icky.” You praise him. He nods and hugs your arm.

“Kylo? Ben? Do you want to try daddy’s coffee?” You ask the other two, both surprisingly nodding. With Matt still holding onto your arm you have Clyde hold the coffee mug while you used the spoon to feed them the coffee. Kylo just made a sour face and pushed the spoon and mug away after he tried it. Ben took the whole spoonful and spit it up on you, then threw a fit.

“Benjamin why are you upset? Was it daddy’s coffee?” You ask, watching him roll around sobbing. You see him nod a little. “Is there a way mommy or daddy can help?” He nods again. “Baby use your words so we know what you want,” you encourage him. He lifts his head from the bed and rubs his face.

“Cuddles... Daddy,” he finally says.

“You want to cuddle with daddy?” You confirm.

“Yea,”

“C’mere bud,” Clyde offers his arm and pulls Ben into his lap. Clyde kisses his forehead once he settles. Kylo decided he wanted in on this family cuddle pile and makes his way right in between you and Clyde. Matt stopped crying too and was still curled up in your lap. You still had spit up coffee on your shirt. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling but you ignored it because you and your family were cozy, watching the same Disney movie for the umpteenth time and you wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.

#clyde logan x reader #clyde logan #logan lucky #solo triplets #kinda??#possum writes #clyde logan imagine

25 notes · View notes

dreadnought-dear-captain · 4 years

Text

You Asked, I Told

Spoilers up to Chapter 37 of Baghdad Waltz

Hi everyone,

I’m so very sorry for being so late with getting Chapter 38 out. Writing that Spent Brass put a delay in everything, though it was really crucial to get it posted before this next chapter.

This has been a really tough chapter to get right for me. I’ve gone back to the drawing board more than once for a couple scenes. I’m not sure when it will be out, but I’m working on it daily and making some good progress. Thank you for sending me your words of encouragement and letting me know you’re thinking of me! I’m thinking of you too and know you’re really looking forward to more. It will be a doozy, in terms of content, so I hope it’s worth the wait.

In horrifying news, BW is turning THREE YEARS OLD on March 13th. Kill me. (But not before I finish this fucking thing.)

In the meantime, here are some answers to some Asks-------

Thank you so much for the very kind words. I’m so pleased that this story checks off so many of your boxes, and I’m relieved to know that the structure and methods I’ve chosen for storytelling have lent to a balanced narrative where you can appreciate both of these characters. I figure people don’t have to like each character equally, or at all. I just really want their choices make sense, for each character to have a distinct psychology, to have each action and reaction be believable, even if it is infuriating or illogical (it can still fall within the character’s internal logic, based on their own worldview). And I am so honored that this fic can serve as some inspiration for your own. God knows I have mine I go to on the reg when my stuff sucks and I can’t string two words together to save my life.

This is a deceptively silly question, I think (because I can’t keep anything simple). Working out together would be a nice little nostalgic throwback, wouldn’t it? I sometimes pop back to earlier chapters when they were in Baghdad and think about those times with a wistful smile. I think about the way they related, the way they looked, the relative lack of complications in their lives, and it’s such a profound departure from the way things are now.

Steve obviously has kept up his gym going with Matt. We’ve also seen that working out for him is about more than just being swole and hawt; it’s about control and regulating his emotions. And for Bucky, working out used to be a way of maintaining peak fitness for his career, which was one of the ways that he evaluated his self-esteem. If he was fit, he had value. Also, if he was fit, he was sexy, and we know that sexual capability is also one of the primary currencies he uses to determine his self-worth. He also used the construction of his physique as a way to develop his masculinity, the correct form of [gay] masculinity, rather than being a twink or a sissy. This was always a struggle against Bucky’s natural slim body composition, which has become his default again now that he’s been out of the military.

Now Bucky faces a couple of hurdles to exercise, whether he would do it for health or for building his physique. He has the challenges brought about by his many injuries - compromised grip in his left hand due to his massive forearm injuries and inconsistent rehabilitation efforts, ongoing pain in his right foot and a continued limp from that, significant back and hip pain due to very heavy load bearing and overcompensation from his foot injury. This would make it challenging for him to engage in any intense fitness program. What he really needs is to go back to physical therapy, and probably occupational therapy as well, but last time didn’t go so hot last time.

Even if he didn’t have to contend with his injuries, Bucky is at a bit of a crossroads in terms of how much energy he wants to put into rebuilding and maintaining his ideal physical self, which seems to be based on some prototype he picked up long ago (more on that in a future chapter). No chest hair, no body fat, muscles, a perfectly shaved asshole at all times… But he’s not 21 anymore. He has a boyfriend now. And even though he’d probably love to go to the gym to shoulder in on Steve’s time with Matt, I wonder if he would want to go for himself anymore. I wonder if going with Steve would be intimidating or make him feel pressured to fall back into his old patterns. Because now at least he has the excuse that he can’t lift heavy, that he can’t run, so he might as well not even try. But if he could, it would be interesting to see where his path would go as a 31-year-old man.

See? You thought it would be a simple “Yeah, there’re totes gonna go to the gym together, chapter 41, stay tuned!” or “No, probs not, I don’t think he’s much of a gym goer anymore.” Alas. I give no simple answers. This is why you have to wait 5 months for a BW chapter.

This is a good observation. Bucky loves himself a good drunk pizza. He also watches a lot of food-related TV when he drinks. Bucky has had to think a lot about food for various reasons. One is building muscle and physique when his body is telling him NO I WILL NOT. One is not eating so that he can get drunk faster. One is eating the right kind of diet so that he can have anal sex without having to worry about digestive issues (constipation, feeling too full, not being ‘ready,’ too much or too little shitting), which is a thing he would take seriously a hardcore bottom. I see things like pizza as a comfort food, family food, something Winnie would get for them every Friday night after they moved to New York. It’s a very emotional food for him, but he knows it’s “bad” for all of the aforementioned reasons, because it will make you fat and slow your buzz and stuff up your colon, so he might be most inclined to eat it when deep in a bender and doesn’t give a shit about those other things. Because Bucky not only drinks to forget and manage intense emotions, but he drinks also to just relax the relentless march of self-perpetuated, often absurd rules about what and who he is and what he can and should do. So yes, Bucky has some disordered eating, most of it functional, though a lot of his lack of eating recently is likely anxiety-related and/or stomach illness-related.

Another excellent observation. For those who might need a refresher, since this was in chapter 36:

The morning after Bucky shows up at Steve’s drunk and they have sex and many revelations are made about drinking during their relationship, Bucky gets honest about what happened the day before. He tells Steve: “I had my interview. It— I really don’t know how it went. I was so out of it. I’ve been so fucked up these past couple weeks. Just— it’s been bad. Really bad.” He tells the story of what happened at Scott’s. Steve asks why Bucky didn’t tell him he was struggling, and Bucky says that he didn’t want to get into it. Steve shifts in to talking about whether they should get back together.

I think there are a couple things here I could say. Yes, Bucky saying that he’s struggling is an example of some unusually straight-forward honesty that’s also a personal risk for himself. That’s a real measure of progress! But while I think this honesty is something that’s pretty new, the fact that he’s in a bad place mentally is not new information to Steve. I think back to the chapter before, after Bucky’s PT appointment with Luke, where he was clearly very distraught and having an extremely difficult time. Steve couldn’t get him to say what was happening then, but it was clear that it was something very major. So I don’t think this really felt to him like a major revelation, like Bucky’s really been holding it all together perfectly while imploding on the inside. I think this observation was more like, why didn’t you just TELL me you were struggling rather than having to have me wonder and then get wasted and come here drunk? Steve has a long history of asking Bucky if he’s okay and getting the brushoff. He’s probably starting to get tired of always asking and getting shot down.

Another part of your question is also very valid - is this the right time to get into a relationship?? Haha. Ha. Well, nobody said these two were good at making relationship decisions. But on a more serious note, Bucky having struggles is not only not new information for this month, it’s not new information for their relationship. Bucky has always had a secret life of pain that Steve has had to wonder about, ask about, beg to be let into, and he probably figures that one of the best ways he can affect change is if they’re in a romantic relationship. It will let him get close, give him some leverage, etc. So although it might come off as callous, Bucky’s struggles are the rule rather than the exception, and Steve probably figures he needs to get this relationship locked down so that he can get them into therapy and much-needed help.

Of course, there’s plenty of dramatic irony here, right? Steve doesn’t know what we know, which is that what Bucky is struggling with here is the REALLY BIG STUFF. He probably just thinks it’s his usual stuff. So. We’ll see where that goes. Bucky is going to maintain this illusion for as long as he possibly can.

Yes, @pitchforkcentral86 and I had several conversations about whether Bucky should have an animal. It’s a common trope in fic, and a joyful one to read. (Omg, I didn’t know about Alpine until now and I am thrilled!) And yes, service dogs, emotional support animals, therapy animals, pets, they can all be very healing, can provide meaning and purpose, and can also help to structure the lives of people who feel destabilized in various ways.

However, I have held back on giving Bucky an animal because a) his aforementioned history with animals, and b) I’m not sure if that’s what he needs at this point in his journey. I do really think Bucky has some sort of healing that needs to take place around animals. He loves animals. He loves nature and is a true soft boy (TM) who has been deeply hurt by his experiences. It was very inconsistent with his values to do the things he did, see the things he saw, and it’s so painful that he doesn’t know how to reconcile it.

But he’s in such a precarious place now emotionally, with such low resources, and he can barely even share the smallest pieces himself with other humans. People are a lot more complicated, yes, but animals are a lot of responsibility. He would be so hard on himself if he didn’t do a good job, if he didn’t react well to his animal companion, etc. And I think it would probably be more bang for his buck to devote that energy to trying to increasing his emotional intimacy with his partner or his sponsor or other important humans in his life who are asking for his trust. He could GO BACK TO THERAPY EVEN.

I do think something that would potentially be helpful and pretty low resource cost is to have a therapy animal in his life, like something he could go periodically, a therapy dog at the VA or something he could visit and pet once in a while. It would be a good start.

But that’s just my thinking for this character specifically. I think service/emotional support/therapy animals are wonderful and can create incredible bridges for people to improving their quality of life.

Well, that’s all for now! I will continue plugging away at BW and will get it to you as soon as I can. Thank you, as ever, for your patience! And thank you for the wonderful Asks <3 <3 <3

#YOU ASKED I TOLD #send me asks #thank youuuuu #baghdad waltz

21 notes · View notes

rpf-bat · 5 years

Text

Spent My High School Career Spit On And Shoved To Agree

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: High School AU, Romance, Drama

Summary: You find out that a classmate has been picking on your best friend, Gerard. You won’t let this go - even if he tells you, that you should.

A/N: Guess who came off, like, a year long hiatus from writing, just because I read a really shitty high school AU fic, and thought I could do better? (It me. Sorry for being inactive for so long!)

Trigger warning for bullying/violence, and usage of the f-slur.

You held the paper towel Coach Rickly had given you to your nose, trying not to bleed on your Misfits shirt as you walked to the nurses’ office.

As soon as you entered the clinic, you saw a familiar figure seated on one of the cots.

“Gerard?” you blinked, surprised.

“Y/N?” your friend looked up at you, not expecting you to be here. “Oh geez, what happened to your face?”

“I was in gym class,” you explained. “We were playing dodgeball, and when Ray threw the ball, it hit in me in the face.”

“Oh no,” Gerard grimaced.

“It was an accident,” you shrugged. “He apologized like six times, he felt really bad. I told him I’d be ok.”

“I hope so,” Gerard replied.

“More importantly,” you asked, “what are you doing here?”

Gerard lifted up his shaggy hair, revealing a black, bruised left eye.

“What happened?” you gasped.

“Matt happened,” Gerard sighed.

“Matt, from French class?” you guessed.

“Yeah,” Gerard confessed. “The, uh, the school play is coming up. It’s a musical this year. The tryouts are today, so I was in the boys’ bathroom, practicing my singing. Matt came in, and he heard my falsetto, and started making fun of me. Said only fags sing that high. And then his friend was like, I bet if you kick him in the dick, you can make that pansy boy sing even higher. So, Matt kicked me, and I tried to fight back, and then his friend punched me in the face.”

You saw red.

“I’m going to kick Matt’s ass,” you growled. How dare he bully your friend like this! You were going to make him pay.

“Y/N, don’t….” Gerard protested. “I just….I’m just gonna wait for the nurse to come back with that ice pack for my eye, and then I’m going to back to class. And so should you. Just forget about it.”

“I can’t forget about it!” you insisted. “Matt’s a douchebag! I won’t let him get away with hurting you!”

“Don’t get in trouble on my account,” Gerard argued.

“I don’t care if I’m in trouble,” you fumed. “You’re my friend, Gee. I hate the way people at this school treat you. You don’t deserve it. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“It’s not your fault that we don’t have fourth period together,” Gerard shrugged. “And it’s not your job to defend me. Guys are supposed to be able to defend themselves….I just need to get stronger.”

“You don’t need to change anything about yourself.” You loved Gerard for the chubby, nerdy, soft boy that he was. He wasn’t like all the other boys in this shitty New Jersey town. Nothing was wrong with him.

Something was very wrong with the system, that allowed a popular kid like Matt to get away with this. But, you were going to fix that, and god damn the consequences.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You found Matt at lunch, sitting with his goon friends from the football team. You stormed right up to his table, rage in your eyes.

“Hey asshole,” you glared. “I heard you beat up my friend.”

“Who, the little poof from the art club?” Matt chuckled.

“His name is Gerard,” you snapped.

“I don’t care what his name is,” Matt shrugged. “He’s a fucking weirdo. Putting on lipstick in the bathroom mirror, singing some fag song about being a ‘sweet transvestite’….does he want to be a chick or something? Wasn’t sure his dick was actually there til I kicked it.”

His friend high-fived him, as if this was the funniest joke he’d heard all day. You weren’t laughing. You grabbed Matt by the collar, pulling him out of his seat.

“Hey, let me go, you psycho!” Matt protested.

“Eat me,” you swore, and punched him directly in the face, knocking him backwards.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Matt screamed, getting back up, and launching himself at you. You dodged his punch, and kicked him in the shin, sending him tumbling back onto the cafeteria floor.

“Guys, help me!” Matt cried, and his friend (probably the one who had blackened Gerard’s eye) leaped up from the table and punched you in the mouth.

You tasted blood - the lip had split. You didn’t care. Still fueled by rage, you punched Matt’s friend in the gut. He cried out in pain.

“Miss Y/N!” you heard a horrified voice scold, and you whipped around to see the principal standing in front of you. “What on earth are you doing?!”

Shit, you thought. I’m in trouble.

“My office,” the principal barked. “Now.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Ultimately, you were given three days of suspension. Matt didn’t get suspended along with you, which you thought was bullshit. But, you weren’t really sorry for what you had done.

Your folks had grounded you, when they found out what you did. But, three days sitting at home watching zombie movies while they were at work, still wasn’t all that bad.

You were halfway through Dawn Of The Dead when you heard a knock at your front door. You hit pause, wondering who it could be.

You looked through the peephole and saw Gerard standing on your doorstep.

It’s four o clock, you realized. School must have just gotten out. He came straight here to see me?

He really was the sweetest friend a girl could have. You opened the door to let him in.

“Hey, Gerard,” you greeted. “How’s your eye doing?”

“The bruising’s gone down,” he shrugged, shuffling awkwardly into your foyer. “How’s your lip? I heard you got hurt, trying to….avenge me.”

“I’m fine, Gee,” you assured him, shutting the door behind you. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But, I am worried!” he said, and you realized he sounded near tears. “I….I wasn’t man enough to fight my own battles, and so you got dragged into it, too. And he hurt you.”

“You don’t have to ‘be a man’, Gee,” you sighed. “You’re just a sixteen year old kid. The adults - the teachers - they should do something about all the bullying that goes on at our school. They should try and help you.”

“They don’t care, Y/N,” Gerard frowned. “Matt is the teacher’s fucking favorite, he’s the MVP, Homecoming King, whatever, and I’m just some weird loser….”

“You’re not a loser,” you insisted, grabbing Gerard and pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re amazing, Gee. You draw, and you sing, better than anybody else I know. You’re special. They just don’t know you like I do.”

“I’m not special,” Gerard mumbled, pushing you away. “The drama teacher probably won’t even give me the role of Frank N. Furter. She’s gonna tell me I suck.”

“You don’t suck!” you reassured him. “You can get that role!”

“Even if I did,” he argued, “prancing around onstage, in that costume, would just make people like Matt, make fun of me even more.”

“Who cares what they think?” you scoffed. “Gee, listen to me. Two more years at this piece of shit school, and then you’re gonna graduate, and you can finally get out of this town. You’ll get into a good art school in New York. I know you will. And in the big city, people will appreciate what you can do. They’ll be more accepting, of people who are different.”

“They keep calling me gay,” Gerard frowned. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, but, I....”

He blushed and trailed off.

“But, you do like girls,” you supplied.

“I’ll never get a girlfriend,” Gerard mumbled self-loathingly. “What girl is gonna want a fat wimp who can’t even defend himself? Who hides behind a girl, like a coward?”

“I chose to fight Matt,” you reminded him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.“You didn’t make me do this for you. As I recall, you told me not to.”

“I knew you were going to get in trouble,” Gerard said, looking up into your eyes. “You’re suspended from school, because of me.”

“I’d do it again, in a heartbeat,” you confessed. “I care about you a lot, Gee. I couldn’t stand to see what he did to you, and just do nothing.”

Gerard turned red again, and looked away. “I, uh, I brought you the notes from French class, that you missed today,” he stammered.

“Thank you,” you replied gratefully.

“There’s going to be a test the day you come back,” he reminded. “So, you’ll need to study while you’re stuck here.”

“I will,” you nodded. “I appreciate the heads up.”

Gerard looked around your living room awkwardly, unsure what to say next.

“Since you’re here,” you asked, “do you want to watch the rest of this movie with me? It’s your favorite.”

“Your folks won’t mind?” Gerard asked uncertainly.

“Oh, they won’t be home for a few more hours,” you shrugged.

“Were they really mad,” Gerard wondered, “when they found out, that you got suspended, for getting in a fight?”

“A little,” you winced. “They confiscated my car keys. And my phone.”

“Oh!” Gerard realized. “That’s why you didn’t answer me, when I tried to call you last night?”

“My phone’s been off since yesterday,” you frowned. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s ok, I’m….actually kind of relieved,” Gerard admitted. “I was worried you weren’t answering, because you were mad at me.”

“Never,” you said gently. “You’re my best friend, Gerard. I couldn’t possibly stay mad, or blame you, for something like this. I was the dumbass who decided to fight him in the middle of the cafeteria! Whatever consequences I get...that’s on me, not you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Gerard smiled, sounding like he was feeling a bit better. He sat down on your couch. “Let’s watch some zombies eat people.”

You grinned, and unpaused the classic Romero movie.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

As the credits rolled, Gerard sat up straight and turned to you.

“Y/N….” he began nervously.

“Yeah?” you smiled. “What is it, Gee?”

“So, the day after your suspension is over,” Gerard said quietly, “is also the day of the school dance.”

“Are you planning on going this year?” you asked. “I think it was pretty fun last year, when we went with a big group of friends. I know Frank got in trouble for spiking the punch bowl, but…”

“I don’t want to go with friends this year,” Gerard interrupted.

“Oh?” you blinked. “Is there a girl that you’re going to ask, to be your prom date?”

“I shouldn’t even bother,” Gerard sighed. “Never mind.”

“What do you mean?” you frowned, looking over at him. You wished he had more self confidence. “You’re really cute, Gerard. I’m sure if you ask a girl, she’d be happy to go with you.”

“I’m...cute?” Gerard repeated, like he didn’t believe the words he was hearing.

You looked him over again. His long, soft-looking hair. His big, strong hands. His squeezably chubby cheeks. He really was a cute boy. Secretly, you’d thought that for a long time.

You leaned in closer, and his face reddened.

“Gerard,” you said, almost in a whisper, as you looked into his hazel eyes, “is there something that you want to ask me?”

“I….I can’t,” he blushed.

“Well, then, I can,” you smirked, leaning over so you were almost touching him. “Gerard, will you go to prom with me?”

“Y/N, I…..”

“Not as friends this time,” you clarified, a long-hidden attraction in your eyes. “As a date.”

“Yes,” Gerard whispered hoarsely. “Yes. I never thought you would say that, but, yes, please!”

You closed the gap between you, kissing him on his stunned mouth. He didn’t move at first. It was as if he was waiting for you to tell him, that this was all some kind of sick joke.

But when he realized this was real, you wanted him, his mouth responded to yours eagerly, and he pulled you closer, into his lap.

“No matter what Matt, or anyone, says,” you gasped, coming up for air, “you are so handsome, Gerard, and so talented, and one day, the world will appreciate you for who you are.”

You pressed him down into the couch cushions, enjoying the redness in his cheeks and the desire in his eyes. You thought he was beautiful - and you were certain that one day, you would be far from the only one.

#BOTTOM GERARD IS BEST GERARD #DID YOU MISS ME BITCHES #Y/N is a angry violent little fuck in this one but so was I during my high school days lol #gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine #high school gerard #high school au #bullying tw #f slur tw

132 notes · View notes

shmende · 5 years

Text

Growing Out Of It: Pt. 1 - The Unexpected (Shawn Mendes)

In which the reunion of old school friends stirs up some uninvited feelings

No warning, just very slow burn-ish. Also roughly 4.2k words. Enjoy!

Mary-Anne shot an expectant glance from the other side of the bar, thin brows wrinkled and mouth straight. “Kid spilled her drink at 12.”

Judging by her exasperated tone, I obviously wasn’t the only one categorically done with LLV’s Kid’s Sundays. I liked kids, I really did, but they were still a pain in the ass sometimes.

And the parents.

I sighed, remembering the run-in with a particularly nasty mother last Sunday who had insisted that her little five-year-old wouldn’t - couldn’t - consume our fatty french fries, which, by the way, were literally the food about seventy percent of LLV’s costumers came here for, and complained about how we, as a restaurant, endangered her child’s health.

Fucking tourists.

Usually I liked my job, really, it was quite fun, quite sociable, it paid the bills (the horrendously high bills in Toronto), and I couldn’t recall too many unpleasant encounters with costumers, Canadian customers, but those Americans. Sometimes Europeans, too. They could be arseholes.

Desperately wishing for a nice, peaceful family at 12, I grabbed a few napkins, a wet wash cloth and made my way over along the dark, wooden bar, through the black maple pillars and the maze of birch tables, all filled with happy families, some with only one kid, some with grandparents and some pushed together to accommodate all six children. I waved at Tina and Felix, Jonah and Tracy (I hadn’t remembered the names of the little twins yet) and nodded at Mr. and Mrs. Crubick. They made it to every Kid’s Saturday.

Today they sat at 15, meaning that I was only three tables away. And yes, I probably should’ve noticed the woman crouched on the floor a few metres down and a toddler wiggling her arms, barely reaching above the table top, a wee bit earlier. Because then I definitely wouldn’t have stepped into the wet patch on the floor, stumbled and almost lost my balance.

The woman looked up, her short blonde hair messed up and shirt battered with a few light yellow stains. She looked exhausted. “I’m so, so sorry. Little Amy was way too excited about her apple juice.”

“No, ma’am. It’s all fine, no worries. This happens all the time here.” I said, getting to work with my wash cloth.

The woman sighed. “Sorry to cause such mayhem, Miss. I’m sure you weren’t planning to wipe the-”

“Miss, Miss!” A light voice interrupted.

The woman and I turned our heads to the toddler. She was cute, wearing pigtails and ribbons and a little chain with plastic bananas around her neck. Her brown eyes were wide.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to show Mummy something. Look, I drew her a picture! It’s the big tree in our garden.”

I smiled at her. “That’s a pretty picture. Hey, Amy, right? Do you want me to tell you a secret?”

She nodded eagerly. The woman got back on her feet as I finished up the floor as well as I could. Then I turned back to the girl and started wiping the table. The woman settled back into her seat, lifting her cup and motioning at the little one to secure her drawing utensils.

“Listen, Amy, you see the tall guy over there, behind the bar? The one with the brown hair and yellow shirt, like the one I’m wearing?” The girl nodded. “His name’s Matthew. He’ll make you a new juice if you draw him a pretty picture. How’s that sound?”

The girl gave an excited squeak. Then she wriggled in her seat and got to work.

Her mother smiled broadly, relieved, and thanked me. I smiled back before returning to the bar, taking a few orders and waving at Felix and Tina again.

“You’re too nice.”

I shrugged at Mary-Anne, occupied with typing the orders into our tablet.

“Matthew’s gonna cut off your tips one day, you know.”

Mary-Anne was 48 with wild brown curls that she kept in the tightest bun and piercing black eyes. She had a son in drama school in Lethbridge and in constant disagreement with her, especially because she’d desperately wanted her son to become a doctor. Still, she was much more of a delight to be around than any other adult in my life.

“No, he won’t. He knows the importance of good customer service,” I said pointedly, before snapping my eyes to my unbelievably tall boss and catching him with a grin on his lips. “Hey, Matt, you’re gonna get a drawing from an adorable little girl in exchange for an apple juice. Please don’t disappoint her.”

Matthew shot me a thumbs-up. Mary-Anne scoffed, but a small smile lingered on her lips.

She’d been working at LLV for ages, years before I’d started and she had used to be distant at first, insisting I’d only gotten the job because my chem tutor Will was an old friend of Matt’s. Which wasn’t necessarily wrong. I’d been in desperate need for a way to keep the bills paid while studying at U of T and ever since my parents had cut the money chords, I’d been barely scraping by. But I had proved myself. I had Matt now. And Mary-Anne. And the LLV.

And life didn’t seem as pointless as it had used to.

“Hey, Teddy just came in.” Matt said suddenly, making me whip my head to the door.

“Usual spot?”

After his small nod I grabbed the little notepad and sauntered over to the round tables by the window front, right by the terrace, and spotted her familiar mop of brown hair and gesticulating arms. She was with two guys and another girl, all dark-haired and wearing light coloured shirts. I felt like a burst of spring in my yellow top.

And I wasn’t even fully at the table when Teddy waved at me frantically. “Lacey! How you been?”

I grinned. Teddy was one for the books. Always happy, always bubbly. One of my favourite customers, especially on Kid’s Sunday.

“Now that you’re here I’m fantastic. How’re you, back in your old space?”

She laughed. “My favourite space,” and tapped the birch table twice. I took the opportunity to look over her company, my gaze getting stuck at a certain face, adorned with curls and a bright smile. No way.

My grin became involuntarily bigger.

“Shawn? Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Obviously this was a blatant lie. I’d seen him everywhere. On billboards, on magazines, on TV, YouTube, Instagram...the guy was all over. But years ago, when he hadn’t been a world-famous singer, he’d just been the guy sitting next to me in Algebra, struggling on problems and having a laugh if we got it totally wrong. And English Lit. Oh, and biology. Kind of.

Shawn’s eyes lit up. “Lacey Windsor? The Lacey Windsor?”

“Yes! Oh my god, this is-” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because Shawn sprang up and pulled me into a hug, tight and friendly. I grimaced upon remembering the last time we’d hugged. Actually, the last time we’d even seen each other. Graduation. 2016.

I leant back from the hug, mind flashing to that warm night in June and how we’d danced like idiots, sneaked drinks into our gym and sat on the bleachers after the parents had left. Katherine, Ivy, Brian, Shawn and I, not my usual crowd, but Lisa and Theo had been impossible to keep trace of the whole night (ah, yes, young love) and so I’d somehow ended up with the cool music squad after Shawn had taken pity on me and called me over. Only to be sat next to my on-and-off crush of almost two years for the next something hours. It had been a great night. I still called Ivy a very good friend to this day.

“It’s so nice to see you, Lacey! How have you been?” Shawn sat down again, staring up at me expectantly. Suddenly I felt jittery.

“Yeah, I’ve been good. What about you? What are you up to nowadays, rockstar?” The nickname rolled over my lips too comfortably, considering the last time I’d called him that.

He laughed shortly, opening his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Teddy’s slow drawl of a voice, which was one of the things I liked most about her. She didn’t let anyone rush her.

“Wait, you two know each other?”

I wanted to giggle at her raised brows and dropped jaw; also, I wanted to cry at the suddenness of this situation. I’m just as surprised as you, Teddy, trust me. Her fingers dangled in the air, motioning between Shawn and I.

“Yeah, we sat next to each other in school.”

“Algebra was a bitch, wasn’t it?” Shawn immediately regressed to talking to me again, looking up through his long lashes and with his signature grin; and I was 16 all over again. Shit.

Before I could even try to answer, Teddy spoke up. “So, like, you two have been totally unaware that you’ve practically been living in the same street for what - almost a year?”

I shrugged unsurely, feeling incredibly out of place. “I guess?”

Life had a funny way of playing out sometimes. Then I gaped (How did she know where I live?), but was once again cut off by Teddy who continued with a quip in her voice, eyes glistening with mischief. Oh, she was enjoying this.

“Yeah, remember when I drove you home that night, Lacey? When you were drunk out of your mind? I even said that you live conveniently close to the guy I write songs with. Remember?” Her drawl changed into a chuckle. “You were so confused about my job...”

It clicked. Of course I remembered. Three months ago, the night Teddy had become more than a customer - a mutual, an acquaintance, a friend. In other words, an enigma with the most intriguing life I’d ever witnessed (except for, you know, the guy I went to High School with who rose to international stardom before even graduating). I shook my head at her. Unbelievable.

“Wait...so you mean to tell me that the girl you’ve been wanting me to meet is Lacey Windsor? Lacey Windsor from my High School? That’s too much of a coincidence.” Shawn stared intensely at Teddy. I kind of wanted to crawl into a hole. Had she been trying to set us up?

Sure, we’d had a heart-to-heart once, had been somewhat friends ever since then (and I might’ve told her how much I used to like Shawn Mendes when he was still my ‘dirty little secret’, by which I had actually meant High School classmate) but apart from that, I’d pretty much only been her waitress. The only thing special about me was my great sense of favouritism.

And she’d wanted Shawn to meet me?

Teddy looked between Shawn and I, visibly disappointed in the new developments. “Well, my plan to get you two laid obviously backfired.”

My jaw dropped and I sputtered for a moment, alarmed. “You - we...what do you mean get us two laid?!”

My voice got unexpectedly shrill at the end and Teddy had definitely picked up on it. She was smirking now. I felt Shawn’s gaze on the side of my face, with mouth still hanging open and I wondered if he had noticed too. I ignored him. Don’t ruin this. Shawn cannot know about your childish High School crush on him. He has millions of female admirers now. He’s a fucking teenage heartthrob.

Teddy and Shawn were suspiciously quiet. (Probably freaked out.) My face heated up. How would I get out of this without making it awkward?

I cleared my throat. “Well, thanks for your concern, Teddy,” I shot her a pointed look, “but I don’t need you to get booty calls for me. I can manage on my own just fine actually.” Then I looked at the two unknown witnesses on the table, gripping my pencil tightly and ignored Teddy’s glinting eyes. She still found this amusing.

I jotted down everyone’s orders, making contact with lingering eyes and timid voices. Maybe my outburst had been a bit, well, much. I wasn’t usually this harsh, especially not with customers, but seeing Shawn like this, completely unexpected (even though obviously kind of planned - what the fuck, Teddy?) and immediately being accused of needing to get laid in front of him and also by him, that had been a bit much, too.

To put it nicely, I was kind of pissed. I had not envisioned catching up with my crush from algebra and English and biology through a dumb booty call. And a failed one, at that.

I avoided their table for the rest of the day, even though the four had already been out the door only two hours later. Teddy holding her phone up on the way out and warning me of a call that was to ensue later while Shawn had twisted his lips into something distantly resembling a smile and had given me a short wave. I was miserable.

“You overreacted, Lacey. Teddy was just trying to be nice. How could she’ve known that you know him and that you’ve admired him from afar like a middle schooler for ages?”

Mary-Anne was huffing and puffing, scrubbing the surface of the bar that Matt had - as usual - made a mess of.

“And she was right too. You haven’t been with someone in a while. You’re twenty-one, for god’s sake, get out there more! When I was your age, let me tell you –“

Basically, she blurred the line between mum and best friend a lot. Not to mention brooding older colleague, which was a role she only seemed to play when the LLV was overflowing with customers and sometimes, that truly was my favourite.

I groaned quietly, staring past her and sorting through today’s empty glass bottles. Clear in the red basket, green in the clear, plastic in the massive IKEA bag. Yeah, maybe not indulging in Mary-Anne’s talk would make her shut up. Maybe, hopefully.

“And Lacey Windsor, he is handsome, that Shawn guy,” she continued after a short silence. My face contorted into a whine. My heart raced. Handsome. He is handsome. Was handsome. In High School. Shit.

Aren’t you supposed to grow out of childish crushes at some point?

“And he was so polite, dear. You should give him a shot! Maybe just give him a ring? Shame if not, he was so into you too. Downright sad when I brought the food and not you, he was. You should’ve seen it!”

Now I whined out loud. “Stop, Mary-Anne. Please. I can’t -”

She had the audacity to giggle. “Can’t what? Contain the butterflies?” Whistling and grinning, she focused back on wiping the bar. I pierced her with a glare, a mixture of annoyance and disgust at her giddiness. When had my life become the subject of entertainment for other people? First Teddy, now Mary-Anne?

She was about to wipe down the sink when she chirped, “Man, I wish I was young again,” and I cracked, exclaiming,

“Mary-Anne, it’s not as fun as it seems.”

She winked and my cheek twitched. On my way out, I caught sight of a drawing attached to the far left liquor cabinet: a stick-figure with a yellow shirt and brown ponytail, carrying a massive pen in its hand. It was signed with scraggly letters, crooked but genuine. A-M-Y.

Teddy didn’t call that night. She came back to LLV three days later, on a Wednesday evening as I was covering for Matt on the bar. It was getting cold already in Canada and the flu had hit last week. Which also meant that LLV was unusually (and conveniently) empty.

“Lacey, I’m so sorry about Sunday,” she said, sliding into the bar stool right across from me. “I didn’t even mean the whole getting laid thing, it was supposed to be a joke. And I absolutely didn’t mean to offend you or something, or to meddle in your love life, but I just thought it’d be nice for you to meet someone to distract you from Nate and, let’s be honest, that dry spell of yours has been going on for three fucking months and I thought-”

I staggered, taken aback, and decided I needed to step in before she went too far with her rambling, “Well, hello to you too, Teddy,” I said, clipped, and continued mixing the Cuba Libre the blonde surfer dude from 7 had ordered, torn somewhere between laughing and fuming.

When she remained silent, I brusquely added, “Didn’t know you were so familiar with my sex life,” and stared at her. She shrunk slightly.

“Listen, I know we don’t exactly know each other in a conventional way and I didn’t mean to overstep.” Then she squared her shoulders and I knew I was in for a lecture. “But honey, it’s also not exactly rocket science to figure you out.”

I raised my brows in indignation. “Sorry?”

The relationship between her and I was weird, to say the least. We were mostly business. Waitress-customer kind of thing. But then, once I had cried in front of her because of Nate and she’d taken my drunk ass home, she came by in the evenings, sat down at the bar and asked me how I was doing. Eventually, I became curious and returned the question, and so we’d been bonding over the noises of my colleagues, costumers in all kinds of moods and the sound of the cocktail shaker for about three months. As the time went by, we became mutuals who saw each other once in a while and chatted about life, nothing serious, but also not nothing.

“Lacey,” she sighed, looking at me with her big blue eyes. Sometimes I despised her for being eight years older - and probably wiser. “I’m not stupid. You obviously haven’t been with anyone since Nate. No, don’t give me that look. You reek of sexual frustration.”

I gasped. “Excuse me?!”

This was new. Discussing our sex lives when we had usually focused more on my rather embarrassing moping about past loves. I slapped her forearm. “It’s only been two months and we really shouldn’t be discussing this here.” I gestured around the business of LLV, then moved to finish the Cuba Libre and put it on my tray. And I was off, leaving Teddy alone at the bar, shuffling to 7 and back, getting stopped to take orders a few times. Where on earth was Mary-Anne when you needed her?

“So,” Teddy’s voice filled my ears as soon as I got behind the bar again, only to be interrogated. “I did the maths. Two months? Who on earth did you lure in between your thighs and didn’t even bother mentioning it to me? Remember me? The person you cried to after you and Nate broke up?”

I gave her a pointed look. Then I shrugged, done with trying to keep the secret. All my dignity was already out the window anyways. “Nate.”

Teddy’s jaw was on the ground for the next minutes that I spent recalling the events of that Thursday evening in early September where I had randomly called Nate because of a bad day, just to hear his voice. And how he’d actually been in Toronto for a few days and thinking about calling me too; how we’d somehow ended up grabbing dinner and talking about all the good times we’d had and then the bad times and how he regretted having to break up but loved his job in Vancouver. And then a good-hearted hug had led to lingering eye-contact and rough breathing led to kissing and spending the night on his friend’s couch.

Teddy regained her composure, sitting up straight. “So you’ve had your closure now?”

I nodded, reassured because she didn’t seem to judge, and then turned to the coffee machine to make her an Espresso. We bathed in the silence for a bit, not knowing what the other was thinking and also not particularly caring to disrupt, until Teddy initiated,

“Well, I had hoped you’d know by now but I gave Shawn your number.”

I whipped my head to face her. “You did what?”

She held her hands up, surrendering. “I know, I’m sorry. But he was persistent. And I really don’t get why you insisted on ignoring us that hard on Sunday. Did he do something to you in school?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Have you met Shawn?”

“Yeah, right. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Teddy rested her chin on her palms, studying my face as I concentrated on the coffee machine. I was doing a miserable job of concealing the twisty feeling in my stomach. Just thinking about what Teddy might’ve told him about me prior to coming on Sunday. Did he think lowly of me now? Working as a waitress, struggling to pay bills and apparently relying on customers to get laid? No, he wasn’t like that. I knew him. Had known him for years.

“So, what I’m guessing is this,” she was back with the drawls, “You were embarrassed.”

She radiated mischief and satisfaction, even more when I moved to shake my head. A poor attempt at dignity.

She erupted in a toothy grin. “Don’t even try denying. You are so easy to read.”

I put the hot Espresso in front of her with a huff and a red face. How dare she?

“Then again, so is Shawn; he was burning to talk to you the whole time. I’m actually really surprised he hasn’t texted you yet.”

Teddy was saying all this very nonchalantly while blowing on her Espresso, like she hadn’t just revealed that Shawn had obviously been thinking about me too. I stared at her taking a sip. Then she looked up at me. I was distressed. Shawn? Burning to talk to me?

We’d gone two years without talking to each other and graduation seemed like another lifetime already. I tensed. It felt so long ago that he’d taken my hand on the way to my house. And it felt even longer ago that his breath had fanned my face when he’d let go of the hug at my door, when he’d kept his hands around my waist and looked from my eyes to my lips.

And that final, infinite moment right before I’d leant in, all ragged breathing and beating hearts and my first real kiss.

(Now that felt like an outer body experience at this point.)

I’d never told him that he was my first kiss, of course. We’d looked at each other afterwards; him scratching the back of his neck, me fiddling with the straps of my bag. The empty glass bottles rumbled inside it and I had hesitated when I said, “That...That was nice and all, but, and don’t get me wrong, I’m drunk and this was probably a mistake. I guess, you know, you’re a rockstar and practically on a world tour in a few days.”

And he’d lingered for a second, then nodded and well, then he was gone. For two years. Gone, but never really. It had proved quite difficult to ignore his existence when he became a celebrity. So I’d done the only thing any reasonable person trying to get over a crush did: Unfollowed him every-fucking-where and changed the radio station when a song of his came on. The only real connection I still had to him was my friend Ivy, but she had understood to shut up about him in front of me. Especially when I got with Nate a year and a half ago.

Somewhere around that time, I’d also gotten a new phone and I hadn’t even bothered to text him my new number. Still, I found myself wondering if our kiss had meant anything to him like it had to me back then.

I suddenly jerked my head, willing that thought out of my mind. Which didn’t go unnoticed by Teddy.

“Windsor, why am I getting the expression that you two have history?”

Clicking my tongue, I delved into the story.

Seven hours later, I laid in bed. Phone in hand and Shawn on my mind. My tiny room had nothing but a glass laptop table from IKEA, my wooden childhood bed and a few clothes racks (also IKEA, naturally). The rest of my stuff was stored in an array of cardboard boxes beneath the window, labelled with creative tags like cheap high-tech (chargers and various cables I had no idea how to use), pics to laugh at, pics to cry at, good books, trash books or, my favourite, a massive binder that read paid bills. I was a picture perfect (broke) university student.

My room was also freezing because I had forgotten to close my window this morning and I heard the faint sound of my roommates Timothy and Charlotte respectively watching movies in their rooms. Sucks to be sandwiched.

I envisioned what Shawn’s apartment must look like. It was probably really spacious, with big windows and high-ceilings. Minimalistic in furniture and full of music stuff. My fingers hovered over the keyboard; I stared at his contact info. Shawn Mendes.

Who was I kidding? What would I even text him? And would he even bother to reply at all?

I decided not knowing was better than being disappointed. At least I could still entertain my fantasies that way.

PART TWO??

#shawnmendes #shawnmendesfic #shawnmendesfanfic #shawnmendesfluff #shawnmendesangst #fluff #angst #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes x oc #shawn mendes reader #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes text post #writing #fanfic #first post #ashtonwahs

30 notes · View notes

moongirl332 · 6 years

Text

VOLTRON SEASON 7

SPOILERS

heres my crazy ramblings while watching this season

EPISODE ONE- James sounds EXACTLY like lance

Soft mom looks at keef

Same romelle

Coran yet again being the vodka uncle

ALFOR AND CORAN WRANGLED YELMORS???? TOGETHER????

“Are all ancient alteans like this?’ “We only know two”

HOney I shRuNk TeAm VoLtRoN

“Quiznacker”

BBY HUNK

BBY LANCE!!!

Everyone being mad at keef

YEESSSS LANCE MY BOI SAVED EVERYONE

WHERE. IS. HIS. SWORD.

OOf dArEdEvIL sHiRo in thoosseee glasseesss

“ Me and my POP” POP????? POP????

Aww his dad was a firefighter

Noooo shiros deasise nooo

AWWW HUNK AND ROMELLE

“Hunks our only hope” yayaaaaayyy

NO SHIRO PLEASE

Also Mr. Holt? With that guy hair??

aDaM

ADAM

A D A M

DONT DO MY HUNK LIKE THAT HOW DARE

This episode is just like “I wonder if hunk and lance are having as good a time as us” “*SCREAMING*”

Coran just straight up snowboarding down the yelmors back

“Oh quiznack” “my back”

Keith and shiro just DONE with the rest of the team like hunny you just put your soul into your clones body

EPISODE TWO- SAD PIDGE NO

Hunk trying to impress romelle <3 <3 <3

Also why does shirts metal half arm look HUGE??

EVERYONE MISSES THEIR FAMIILLLYY

“Finger counting, its more of an art than a science really.”

“But im terrible at drawing” lol aww allura

AWW LANCE DECIDING THESE THING LOOOLL

I LOVE coran

Aww romelle

“Their my selfies”

“Because he’s lonely”

Pidge not caring and just playing video games

“Oh yeah he’s us super drolly.”

PIDGE

OOF STRONK ALLURA

THE WOLF TOOK CORAN?? AHAAHHA

WHAT IS THE WOLF DOING??

NOO LOTOR YOU JERK

“WERE GETTING OUR QUIZNACKS HANDED TO US”

Wait they can’t form Voltron no

“They’re corralling us like space cattle!”

AWW KEITH AND LANCE WORKING TOGETHER

“Rodger that team leader”

K L A N C E

Keith and his knife mommy

YES HUNKS BLASTER

My gfs yeeess

NO THE WOLF

OOF LOTORS GENERALS MY BABES

EPISODE THREE-WAIT THEY GOT THE LIONS

Her eye??

Same lance stop embarrassing yourself in front of your bfs mom

No coran can do it I believe in him!!!!!

CORAN NARRATING HIS ADVENTURES SSSAMMEEE

THE MICE

THE WOLF NO

Go CORAN!!

Oof that guard tho

CORAN LOOKING HOT

MY BABES THEIR OUTFITS AWWW

AWWW EZOR AND HER GF ZETHRID

OMG AXCA WHAT

“Because the power of teamwork?”

Lol axca and coran

NO NOT PIDGE

YEES PROTECT PIDGE

Oof axca

WAIT coran CAN change his shape and size????

GO MICE GO MICE GO MICE

PROTECT PIDGE O R E L S E

MICE!!!

Keith and lance carrying coran the way they carried shiro <3 <3 <3

“She’s always been sweet on that one with the flippity hair” KEITH???

KEITH TRASPORTED HIS BAYYARD??? WHAT

“Lance lead the way” KLANCE IS CANNON KING

Lance is so worried ab his bf but he’s such a good leader awww

WHERE. IS. HIS. SWORD.

“Guess it is true love” what is their relationship???

“Cant we just fight” keef lol he’s so gay and angry

Black saving keef

THREE YEARS????????

KEITH AND AXCA???? What are they???

EPISODE FOUR- YEEESSS GARFUL WARUL SNICK

OOF LANCE SO HOT

OMG KEEF LOL

Uh oh this is bad

Why does it keep glitching?

MY PINEAPPLE BOI

Allura raising her hand

Go hunk!

KEITH IS TRYING SO HARD

Lance please. No. stop.

“Hello bob” “this is my lovely wife haggar”

Lol this fake zarkon is meee lol

“Id rather stay their lions than their points”

“She does look like that drawing”

Their poses lol

“Windy cave?’

OMG I LOVE FAKE GALRA

LANCE IS NOT DUMB FIGHT ME

NO HUNNY YOYR NOT THE DUB ONE

Lol that earth shop alien dude

YOU A R E N O T T H E D U M B O N E L A N C E

“Do we believe this beautiful dum dum?’ He is beautiful but he’s NOT DUMB

OML lance please you’re trying your best!!!

“Go galra Go galra Go galra” ahaha

“You know Im the dumb one” NO YOURE NOT

Ahaha zarkons team

GO LANCE!!!!!!!!!

NOO LANCE

Go PIDGE!!!

Its just mINI GOLF

Oof good try pidge

Aww hunk and allura

LANCE VOTED FOR KEITH AND KEITH VOTED FOR LANCE AAAAHHHH KLANCE IS CANNON KING

“Aw thanks man” AWWWWW

AWW PIDGE AND HUNK

AWWWWWWWWW

YAY THEY WON!!!!!!!!

KEEF SOFT SMILES AAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW

CORAN HAS HEARD BOB

Aww bob

EPISODE FIVE-PIDGES NIGHTMARE LOL

Omg they all sleep so weird lol

“I guess that does make you an expert on killing time” LOL SHIRROOO

“Like mother like son”

SAME HUNK LOL

GO LANCE

Hunk making everyone burritos same

YEES NAME HIM KOSMO

Aww lances meemaw

“These big bohs get comedy”

Who is the hooded man(or woman idk)

Good dog

“Disgusting is altean for lovely. You don’t speak altean do you?’

haggar is dead???

NO NOT THE BLADES

The druids can fight me I swear

Aw krolia no

Wait kolivans alive!!!!

OH MY GOD WHAT

WAIT WHAT

THE DUDE WAS THE DRUIS THAT FOUGHT KEITH

WHERE.IS. LANCES. SWORD.

KEEFS WOLF

Wait are they stuck?? What???

FIGHT HIM KEEF

GO ALLURA YEESSS

KOLIVAN NO

yes allura get it

DONT HURT HER NO

Get him Keith

YEESS DESTROYED

“Good job Keith” KLANCE IS CANNON KING

Nooooo all the alteans are all gone

Awww krolia and kolivan

Awww KEITH AND HIS MOOOMM

HUGS

I LOVE YOU TOO KROLIA

EPISODE SIX-lol pidge “ITS ONE AND A HALF EARTH YEARS”

Lance is ready to die lol

YES HUNK YOUR PUNS YES

OML SHIRO STOPP lol

Awww Keith was excited ab his flight formation exercises

Angry wolf boi

KLANCE IS CA N N O N K I N G

Lance is READY to die lol

“Told you lance would go crazy first”

NOO MY BBYS ARE TIRED AND SAD NOO

No hunk please no

“No I think time is different for me. Like im on dog years or something”

Woah Keith chill

Uh oh, is Keith going crazy???

Go lance, be a leader

SHUT UP KEITH WHY ARE YOU BEING SO EMO???

Uh oh THEYRE FIGHTING

GO HUNK

NO KEITH STOP EARTH??? E A R T H ? ? ?

No wait, what if its a mirage

IT IS A MIRAGE

GO HUNK

LISTEN TO HUNK

GO HUNK

Omg what is that

HUNKKK I LOVE YOU YOURE SO IMPORTANT HHHUUUUNNNKKK

Aww Keith

Wow its a good thing these spacesuits have jetpacks and literally unlimited power

YAY RED THE LIONS!!!

V O T R O N ! ! !

KEITH AND LANCE PUT THEIR BAYARDS IN AT THE SAME TIME KLANCE IS CANNON KING

Look at DEM WINGS

EARTH??? REAL EARTH?? THE Milky Way????? YEEEEESSSSSSSS

EPISODE 7 + 8 - EARTH YAY

OH NO

Earth is under attack

NOO

Flashback?

SSSAAAMMMSSSS WIIIFFFEE!!! AWWWWW

AWW

OOF GO COLLEEN YEESS

AWW KAITE Voltron Voltron Voltron

EEEWWW ITS JAMES

Ohh cool ships

GROSS JAMES MATT!!!!!!!!

This garrison girl is a jerk ugh

YEEESS COLLEN TELL THE WORLD GO GIRL

OK I DONT LIKE HIM BUT TBH JAMES IS HOOOTT

AWWWW THE FAMILY VIDEOS

CRYING

UGLY SOBBING

DONT LOCK MY HOLTS UP NO

NOO THE GALRA ARE HERE

Ok its fine they have a particle barrier its gonna be fine right?hahah? Fine? Hahah?

Ugh stuPID SENDAK

NOOOO

I HATE THIS GARRISON LADY UGH

A D A M

ADAM

A D A M

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDAM

OMG IT WAS ADAM

A D A M

PLEASE DONT LET ADAM DIE

A D A M

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ADAM

DONT BE DEAD

ADAM

UGH JAMES

SENDAK NO YOU JERK

NO EVERYONES DYING

YEEEESS SAM HOLT

HE SAID QUIZNAK OML

WORLD WAR 3 WHAT?

OK VERONICA WHAT A BADA**

SAME I LOVE VERONICA

JAMES SUCKS

WHY IS JAMES ALSO AN EMO LOL

YEEES VERONIA GOOOO

NOOO VERONCA NOOOOO

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

V E R O N I C A

WAIT

WASNT VERONICA LANCES SISTERS NAME???? WAS THAT HER? IS SHE DEAD? PLEASE NO?NOOOOOOOO

VERONICAS ALIVE THANK GOD

OMG I LOVE HER AGH SHE IS LANCES SISTER

AAAAGGGGGHHHHH I LOVE HER

Her jacket looks like lances lol

ugh sedak u gross

YEEESSS AAAAGGGHHH VOLTRON WILL SAVE THEM

“Well what are we waiting for” you’ve Sid that three times Keith lol

EPISODE NINE-

GO VOLTRON SAVE UUUUUSSSSS AAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLL

What are those space Frisbees they’re using lol

Aww kaltenecker and the mice

NO DONT CRASH

AAAAGGGGHHHH

Nooo earth is destroyed

WHERE.IS.LANCES.SWORD.

KEITH AND LANCE AAWWWW

KLANCE IS CANNON KING

OOOOOOOFFFFFFF ITTTTTSSS JAAAAAAAMMMMMMEEEEEEESSSSSS

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

JAMES NOOOO AGGGHHH

WHERE IS ADAM BTW

AWWW THEIR FAMILYS AAWWW

UGLY SOBBING AGAIN

UNCLE LANCE?? AWWW

CRYING SO MUCH RN

AWWW HUNKS FAMILY AWW WHERE ARE THEY NOOOO???

NOT HUNKS FAMILY WHHY??

OMG CORAN STOP

KEITH AAAAWWWW

AWW KOSMO

UGH JAMES

ADAM

A D A M

SOBBING

ADAM

DONT BE DEAD

A D A M

SHUT THE FU*K UP JAMES

ITS HUNKS FAMILY SO SHUT YOUR STUPID FACE UGH

OMG coran and allure in the galaxy garrisons outfits lol

Ugh I hate this garrison girl what a jerk

GO PIDGE AND AULLRA YAY

OMG CORAN U LOVE YOU

Ooh arms?? For shiro???

AWWW KEITH AND HUNK

KEITH IS TRYING HIS BEST

AWWWW HHUUNNKKK I LOVE HIM

PROTECT HUNK 2K18

KEITH IS MOST IMPRESSED BY HUNK AWWWW

HUNK HUGGED KEITH

YEEESS HUNK GO GET YO FAMILY

UGH JAMES I HATE YOU

HHHMMMM QUESTIONABLE JAMES BUT OK

EW GROSS SENDAK HOLOGRAM

NOO ALLURA R U OK??

OOF VERONIC AND JAMES AND KEITH ANS HUNK AND AND AND

WHY DOES ALL OF HUNKS FAMILY HAVE HEADBANDS???

AWWW HUNK

SHIROS ARM!!!!!!

NOOO HUNK DONT CRY PLEASE

EPISODE TEN-SHIRO

oof the paladins in those garrison outfits tho

SHIROS ARRRMMM

Eew gross his arm is like sendaks

Wait what why noooooO!!!!!!!!!!

Allura? YOUR CROWN???

OOOOHHHHH INTERESTING

Yeess go my gurls

Oohhh shiro lookin hot

YYEEEEEESSSSSS MY SNIPER BOI LAAANNNCCCEEE hmm lance what?

Awww lance loves his sister and I love lance(and Veronica but like)

Same hunk

SnIpEr BoI

ok Keith

GO SNIPER BOI

Shut up James

YEESS LANCE COVER UR BF YEEESSS KOSMO

YES LANCE GO PROTECT UR BF YEESS KLANCE IS CANNON KING

Omg I love kosmo

Oohhh sniper bois i see

OOHHH GO SNIPER BOIS

Aww Veronica if only you knew

Pidge what

Ok Keith whatever

Oof get wrecked by my cosmic boi

“The pigeon is in”

A cannon???

Go hunk!!

YEESSS GO TEAM

These cannons are not good oh no

Shut up you garrison girl

THE LIONS WILL COME TO YYYYOOOOUUUUUU AAAAAHHHHHHH

YEEESSS GO SHIRO YES omg yay Veronica and lance

OOOHHH LANCE A ALLURA I SEE THIS OK OK OK AWWWWWWW THEYRE BLUSHINNNGGGGG

Same Veronica lol

Yeeeess go team

Go Keith!

YYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

Kaltenecker same

Uh oh lance

No lance uh oh

AWWW THE LIONSS AAWWWW NOOOOO LANCE PLEASE LANCE

NOT VERONICA AND LANCE NO

Lance oh no

NOT VERONICA NO

Ok she’s fine its fine

GO MY SHARPSHOOTER BOOOOOOIIIIIII

YEEEESSSS REEEEEDDDD

OH NO THIS IS BAD NOT THE CANNONS NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

NO THAT GARRISON CHICK I KNEW IT I HATED HER NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

F O R M V O L T R O N ! ! !

NO THEY HIT VOLTRON NO AAAAAAAHHHHHHH EPISODE ELEVEN-VOLTRON NO

THEY SHOWED KEITH AND LANCE TOGETHER IM DEAD

ADMIRAL SANDA IS A B*TCH

Ok shiro I see you

I hate admiral sanda ugh

And Sendak uuuggghhh

NUNVILLE WILL SAVE THE DAY AGAIN!!!

Jk jk jk lol

Ok but tbh I want a side series on James team like idk I just do

oh no, why aren’t their bayards working???

YEAH YOU SUCK ADMIRAL SANDA

Ok James I see you you hottie

GO ALTAS

No PLEAASE fly atlas FLY

No sam youre not USLESS

GO CORAN YES aww the castle crystal will power the ship awwww its the new castle of lions

YES CAPTAIN SHIRO YES ugh James is so hot oml

NO SENDAK NO

Ugh James so hot

Oof get wrecked

OOF GET WRECKED AAAGGHHH

Yes hunk we have to try

GO TEAM LEADER I LUV U KEITH

LANCE IS SITTING CRISCROSS APPLESAUCE I REPEAT LANCE IS SITTING CRISCROSS APPLESAUCE

ALSO go lions or whatever but LANCE

YAY HUNK YAY EVERONE!!!

Ooh this is cool they can pilot their lions without being in them interesting

Ok I see you admiral sanda

GO LIONS YEEESS

AAAAHHHH YEEESSS oof I still don’t like admiral sanda but whatever

Oh she dead aint she

OH JK I SEE YOU BLACK LION

Hunk your so extra lol’

Ok she is dead whatever

YEEESS MY BABES GO SAVE EARTH

EPISODE TWELVE-

Immediately forms voltron ok I see you

OH A PART ONE AND TWO???

OOHH JAMES IS SOOOO HAAAAAWWWWTTT UGH

Alright voltron lets go

Noice use the Sword

Oh my sam what the cannons do what

WHAT WHAT JUST HIT THEM NO

OH NO THIS IS BAD

GO LANCE BE. LEADER fine let him destroy his own ships, do the work for you

Oohhh dimes what a hottie

“Oh I thought you might have some mathematically advanced insight or something” lol same James

KEITH AND LANCE TAKE THE FURTHEST PLATES KLANCE KLANCE KLANCE

Get wrecked galra base oof

AAAGGGGHHH GO LIONS GO AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAHHHH YAY THINK IT WORKED?? MAYBE?

Yeah get Sendak. He’s a jerk

AAAGGHHH GO CAPTAIN SHIRO GO

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

GO SHIRO GOOOO

OH NO NO NO OH WAIT ITS THE ALTAS OK ITS OK FOR NOW oohhh James

G O S H I R O omg shiro is done lol

DONT HURT MY SHIRO NO YEEESSS GO SAM SHIRO BETTER BE OK AFTER THIS I SWEAR

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOIO

Yeah die sedan ugh

LANCE YES GO LANCE

GO LANCE YES

Ok allura eyes

Ok yay they can do it please!!!!!!

YYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS THEY DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NO SHIRO

Shiro. Hunny. You need a helmet to breath in space ya idiot.

NO SHIRO AND SENDAK ARE AB TO FIGHT AGAIN AAGGHHH NO GO SHIRO GO GO SHIRO GO

SHIRO YOU CANT DIE again

SHIRO PLEASE BE ALIVE

SENDAK NO DONT DO IT YEEESSS THE BLACK LION YESS GO KEITH YEEESSS

Aww lance and allura

WAIT WHAT WAS THAT NO

EPISODE THIRTEEN -

Oh noooooo what is that??

ANOTHER ROBEAST??? SHIRO IS SAFE THANK GOODNESS

THIS IS BAD THO

Lance has Keith covered ok

YES KEITH YES TEAM LEADER YEAH CORAN wha shiro I swear

FORM VOLTRON

YES VOLTRON YES oof his stick is no good

DUAL SWORDS???? YEEEEESSSS

OH NO IT BROKE THE SHEILD NO

Oohhhh jaaammmeeessss so hot

YES GO PIDGE

OH NO THE ALTAS ITS LIKE THE CREATURES FROM THE RIFT KINDA?? OR THE SHIP WHEN HAGGAR TOOK THEIR QUINTESSENCE??? HUNKS FAMILY AGH

NO THE ATLAS NO VOLTRON IT STABBED VOLTRON

NO VOLTRON THE ATLAS NO AGH SHIRO WHAT YOU WHAT

SHIRO WHAT DID YOU SEE

OK YES THIS IS GOOD

ITS LIKE VOLTRON BUT ITS THE ATLAS OMG WHAT

ITS GOT THICK LEGGIES LOL

OMG ITS HUGE WHAT

GET IT ALTAS GO

OH NO IT GOT BIGGER WHAT

GO LANCE GO

KEITH AND LACE YES KLANCE IS CANNON KING AAAGGGHH

OOF GET WERCKED YEEESSS

ITS GONNA EXPLODE NOOOOOO

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AGH NO WHAT

DONT DIE NO

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

HUNKS FAMILY NO

NNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

SHIRO NO THEY BETTER NOT OF DIED

ADAM

A D A M

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MATT!!!!!!!

BUT NOOOOOOOOOOO

ALL THE ALIENS YAY BUT WHERE ARE THE PALIDANS

OK HUNKS OK YAY

SHAY!!!!!!!!!!!AWWWWWWWWW

PIDGE!

LANCE!

ALLURA!

KEITH!

EVERONES OK EVERYONE HAS A FAMILY ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD OML WHAT

AXCA???

WHATS UP WITH THE CREATURE?

THE POWER SOURCE IS AN ALTEAN?????????

UUUUMMMMMMMM

Ok thats all!

Basically this is just incoherent screaming but whatever

What I got from this season was

A good season I really liked it

lots of team bonding and I think quite a lot of character development but thats just me idk really know all that much idk

LOTS of ship moments, a lot of klance (my personal fav lance is cannon king) but also some allurance too

New character and stories, love Veronica and James’s team is cool but idk ab James. (He is hot tho)

They could definitely make some spinoffs with the new characters

I though the end was good im really happy all the aliens are coming to earth

LOVE LOVE LOVED lance and hunks family for sure, kinda sad we never saw hunks family actually interact in present time but whatever

Also a little mad that the killed Adam bc I really wanted to see that play out and see a reunion but whatever

Wish they had addressed both Adam and James a little more there wasn’t a whole lot on that whole stuff

I loved lance in this season he’s got his family he’s becoming a leader and I loved him

Quite a few coran scenes but still not to much development

Sam holt was vv important

WHERE.WAS.LANCES.SWORD.I.SWEAR.

LOVED HAVING 13 EPISODES YES

Any who thats really it idk this is insane but here you go

#voltron #VLD #voltron season seven #voltron season 7 spoilers #voltron legendary defender #keith #Lance #klance #hunk #pidge gunderson #allura #coran #allurance #idk #random #voltron thoughts

9 notes · View notes

bikaelsons · 6 years

Text

die easy

CHAPTER SIX ∙ 'cause I can't take it

note: yes this is a repost a month late, but what’s important to remember is that while i may be incompetent, i’m also an unmitigated disaster. as it turns out this chapter’s title was a prophecy of what it’d be like trying to post this monstrosity! i’m gonna go take a long bath

warnings: allusions to domestic violence, canon-typical violence, and katherine pierce removing her fake eyelashes (the last one made ... an impact)

<< previous chapter

ao3 link - tumblr masterlist

Matt ran red light after red light, screaming through corners and clipping hedges. More than one indignant jogger flipped him off as he tore past. He didn't care.

He pulled up at the Gilbert residence, scraping the wheels against the gutter. He bailed out, not bothering to lock the truck as he took off across the grass. The door was unlocked, but had it been otherwise he felt desperate enough to take it right off its hinges.

Caroline was in the living room, makeup smudged with tears and exhaustion. "Thank god," she breathed, and it was all she got out before Matt tackled her into a hug. When she continued, her voice was muffled against his chest. "I thought you might run over someone on your way here."

"I was careful," he lied, pulling back but keeping Caroline at arm's length. "Where—how—"

"Elena took him upstairs. She—" Caroline lowered her voice, mindful of vampire senses. "She thinks his ring will bring him back."

A spark of hope ignited in Matt's chest, quashed instantly by the subsequent realisation. "It only works on humans that are killed by supernaturals."

"And while Katherine is supernatural—"

"—so is Jer. Fuck." The hollow ache returned to Matt's chest, one he knew all too well. "I'll go talk to her."

Caroline nodded. "I'm gonna try calling Ty again."

Hugging her one last time, Matt left to give her some privacy.

Elijah had never much liked Pennsylvania. A discomforting encounter with Quakers way back when had cured him of any affection for the wretched state. The summers were unbearably humid, somehow worse than any he'd experienced in Louisiana. How many suits had he ruined with sweat in this awful piece of country?

To be fair, though, he'd ruined more with blood.

Setting aside his prejudice, as a learned man was wont to do, Elijah forced himself past the border and deeper into the state. The coordinates Allie had provided took him west to a small, armpit of a town that already festered with the coming summer.

(It was lovely, but he was in no state to acknowledge that.)

The town's hub of activity was a stretch of cafes and antique stores in a short street adjacent to the main one, and it was there that Elijah found himself. He bypassed the juice bar for a more traditional diner with checkered linoleum and a jukebox he was willing to compel them all not to touch. He ordered a black coffee and sat on a stool that creaked beneath him, the entire set-up a mockery of a bar. Even the smooth, plastic countertop beneath his fingers was red and sparkling clean to aid the sliding of milkshake glasses to eager customers.

Elijah accepted his coffee from one of the workers, a pimpled man with a nametag that read RANDY and who'd known every other customer by name, and who drawled at Elijah, "New in town?"

"Is it obvious?" Elijah replied, gesturing to his suit. Everyone else was dressed like they were going to the beach, except for the uniformed workers at table No. 9.

"Yeah, you don't look like the regular folk, unless you're a real estate agent."

Elijah returned the man's smile despite having seen such a real estate agent setting up fliers on his way here, an agent who had been wearing a polo shirt under his suit jacket. "I'm here looking for a friend, actually."

"Who? Maybe it's someone I know."

Elijah pulled his phone from his pocket, first noting the absence of messages from Matthew, then tapping in his code and bringing up the picture of Elena he'd filched from the Mystic Falls High website for this exact purpose. She wasn't who he was looking for, but they were quite literally doppelgangers. "This woman," he said, showing the phone to the worker.

The worker leaned in close, squinting at the picture. "Can't say I've met her. Maybe you could ask around, though?"

"Perhaps. I was told she'd made herself quite a fixture in the town." Actually, Allie's exact words had been She's talking like she's the fucking queen boss, Uncle. "If you see anyone matching her description, do let her know I'm looking for her." It could make her run, but it could also draw her out enough for a conversation. Elijah was willing to take the risk.

"I sure will," the worker affirmed. He leaned back over his shoulder and yelled, "Going on break, boss!" then tossed his dishtowel over one shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen.

Elijah checked once more for notifications, then switched his phone off and returned it to his pocket. He shouldn't be this anxious really—Matthew had told him to leave, and he'd been right. It was time for Elijah to stop hanging onto his brother's apron strings. The solution to this was, of course, to track down the woman that had ruined his relationship with his brother to begin with.

By the time Elijah finished his (annoyingly decent) coffee he'd well and truly talked himself into a mood. So it wasn't really his fault he didn't notice someone was following him out of the diner until he was three streets away from the main action and their heels kept clicking on the sidewalk in a syncopated rhythm to compliment his.

He glanced over his shoulder quickly, finding no one there and the sound gone. Attuning his senses, Elijah froze. The scent wasn't like Katherine's—he knew that too well to be mistaken—but it was female and vampiric.

"I know you're there," Elijah announced in a cool tone. "Playing games will not end well for you."

“You're looking for Katherine," said the woman, her accent a crisp, almost too-perfect British.

Elijah tried to attune his hearing, to seek out a heartbeat, some whisper of breath in lungs, but found nothing. "And you can help me."

"Perhaps."

"If you could show yourself, I'd appreciate it."

"Why? Can't you find my heart, Elijah Mikaelson?"

He'd already been irritated; now he was what the Americans so aptly referred to as pissed. Which didn't help, because the roaring of blood in his ears only made it harder to pick out her location. Even her scent was difficult to negotiate among the alley they'd found themselves in, all sorts of unsavoury scents occupying his olfactory senses.

"Is she here?"

"So what if she is?"

It took conscious effort to un-grit his teeth. "I am not one to be run around by childish games. Either tell me where to find Katerina or I will leave."

Silence. Then, a heartbeat. It began slowly, quickening to a more normal rate and coming with breaths and the sound of heels on a brick rooftop. Elijah looked up to see a vampire loom above him, short and round in stature and with short, pin-straight hair. She stepped from the rooftop as though she were descending a staircase, landing on the ground in front of him like the jump had been nothing at all.

"You stopped your heart," Elijah said, stepping back to survey her.

She dusted off her dusky pink cardigan with a few stiff, practiced movements, then turned her gaze on him. Something about it was unnerving, exacting. "I did."

"And you are?"

"Juliana Porter. I work with Miss Pierce."

With, not for. An interesting word choice, and a deliberate one, too, if her meticulous nature so far had been any indication.

"She's here, then?"

"Not presently, but she sends her apologies. She has been waiting for you, but other matters took her away."

"Why has she been waiting for me?" And how did she know I would come?

"I think you know the answer to that, Mr Mikaelson. Now, would you like me to show you to your room?"

Elijah raised an eyebrow. "I have a room?"

"But of course." Juliana's grin was large enough to show the place in her gums where her fangs laid in wait, just barely pressing against the pink. "Like I said: Katherine has been waiting for you."

Matt had seen too many dead bodies.

One could argue that one dead body was too many, but Matt did feel like he could almost have handled that. Maybe.

Who was he kidding? He could barely handle seeing undead bodies.

Now he was seeing both dead and undead: Elena, undead and perched beside Jeremy, dead and laid out on his bed as though he were only sleeping after all.

"I know what they're saying," Elena said, breaking the silence. "I'm not crazy."

Matt swallowed the lump in his throat. "No one's saying you're crazy."

"Just that I'm wrong." Elena's thumb brushed over the Gilbert ring on Jeremy's hand, fingernail catching on the blue stone.

"He's not human anymore, Elena. He stopped being human as soon as we activated his Hunter's curse." Just like werewolves, it was the first kill that brought a hunter out to play. The first vampire Jeremy had slain sealed his fate.

Elena shook her head. "Just—shut up, okay? He's gonna be fine. Everything's gonna be fine."

And though Matt knew otherwise, he sat beside Elena and tucked an arm around her.

Maybe things would be better once the Salvatores got back.

The room Juliana took Elijah to was exactly to his taste, from the plush, navy rug to the mahogany end table to the precise threadcount on the Egyptian cotton sheets splashed over the memory foam mattress.

"Miss Katherine designed it for you especially," Juliana contributed from the doorway. "She said you'd come to find her."

Katherine always had been one step ahead of them. Elijah had long since given up on figuring out how she managed it. And though part of him wanted to run contrary to her assumptions, to not be kept waiting like some insect in amber until Katherine saw fit to fetch him ... this was what he'd come here for.

"Shall I ask the kitchens to draw you some tea?"

Elijah turned back to face Juliana. For someone that had been so adamant about working with Katherine, not for her, she was sure behaving like a maidservant. "No," said Elijah. "I think some rum will suit me better."

Juliana raised an eyebrow. "Right you are, then. I'll leave you to it."

She departed, shutting the door behind her and leaving Elijah alone in the space his oldest love had carved for him.

Matt set the coffee cup down beside Caroline and slid into the booth across from her. "Still nothing from Ty?"

Caroline shook her head, setting her phone down. "Radio silence. I guess Klaus really got to him."

"He'll come around."

"Nope," said Caroline, popping the 'p' and bringing her coffee up under her nose. "I think the point of leaving was that he's never coming around again."

"He won't abandon you."

"I told him to go. We agreed it was for the best. Said goodbye and everything."

Funny, since Ty hadn't seen fit to show Matt the same courtesy. A dead best friend and one that might as well be dead, too. Fitting.

"I'm sorry," said Caroline, catching sight of Matt's face. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Matt bit out. I just picked a hell of a time to get rid of Elijah. Would he even care that Katherine had killed Jeremy? He had a history with her, Matt remembered. Then again, he had a history with Jeremy, the guy that killed Kol.

Once, just once, Matt would like to feel an uncomplicated emotion.

"You can talk to me." Caroline reached across the table to grab onto Matt's hand. "Jeremy meant a lot to you. And losing Ty, too ..."

Matt withdrew a little. "I'm fine."

Caroline seemed about to argue when her phone started ringing. She said, "Stefan," and picked it up hurriedly. "Is everything okay?"

Matt couldn't make out the voice on the other ended, but it didn't sound particularly thrilled. Not that it should.

"Oh. Oh." Tears welled up in Caroline's eyes like they belonged there, though she fought them valiantly, biting her lip and tensing her frame in an attempt to gain control. She met Matt's gaze as she told Stefan, "We'll be right there."

The Gilbert house was burning.

Caroline had to get creative in driving through the amassed crowd, and even then they could hardly get onto the street before they were stopped by a ring of firetrucks forming a barrier. A few hoses were going, trying to douse the flames, but it was too late for the house. Half of it had crumbled before Matt even got out of the car.

The house he'd spent his entire childhood in was becoming a husk before his eyes.

Caroline grabbed his wrist and pulled him past the firetrucks, breathing, "Elena." They pushed forward to get to the Salvatores and Elena, who stood on a neighbouring lawn. Damon was blank-faced, Stefan was grim, and Elena ...

Matt stepped forward, trying to get her attention. She watched the fire with a neutral expression, her tears long since dried by the warmth. "He's inside," she said. "They're fighting because they think he's still alive."

Jeremy. They had to find a cover for his death. It was smart, if not horrible. "Are you ... okay?" Matt asked, hating how it sounded.

Elena looked away from the fire easily, turning on him with a blank expression. "I'm fine." She flicked her gaze to Damon. "Let's go."

To Matt's shock, Elena strode away, Damon trailing after her. He looked back over his shoulder to exchange a look with Stefan and was gone.

"What the hell was that?" Caroline demanded.

"That was Elena," Stefan answered. "Without her humanity."

The shower was just as luxurious as the bedroom had been, multiple nozzles and enough room for ten men to stand in. Elijah took more time than he needed, glad for the reprieve from motel showers.

The moment he turned the water off, Elijah knew she was back. Her scent reached him even through the steam, even as he heard her unmistakable heart beating outside.

He took his time drying off, shaving meticulously, and slipping on silk pyjama pants and one of the bathrobes provided. Katherine also seemed to be stalling, only just crossing the threshold as Elijah finished in the bathroom. He heard her farewell Juliana, who she seemed on good terms with. He heard her curse under her breath as she removed her heels halfway up the stairs, stockinged toes sinking into the lush carpet.

He did love her. Each reminder of the affliction was another punch to the gut.

Katherine slowed as she passed his bedroom door but didn't quite stop. She picked up her pace and headed into her own room down the hall, leaving her door open. An invitation.

You've come this far, Elijah reasoned, tying his robe a little tighter, tucking his phone into the pocket. He headed down the hall and rapped his knuckles against the doorframe that thresholded her room, hoping the pattern of knocks sounded sufficiently bored and entirely undesperate.

He didn't wait for her invitation to enter—her bedroom was many things, but a human residence, it was not. He had no need for permission, and he knew for a fact that she would never give it. A verbal invitation sounded too much like a question, and a question permitted a response in the negative. Katerina Petrova was never denied.

She wasn't laid on the bed, as one might expect. Instead, she'd planted herself on the heavy leather chest at the foot of her bed, rubbing her now bare feet. Her shoes and stockings were in a pile at her feet, her trench coat draped beneath her like a skin easily shed. All she wore was a dress of the brightest blue, the kind that almost pulsed in the dim light.

"Hello, Katerina."

Her smile was guileless. "Elijah. So nice of you to join me."

Elijah leaned against the bed frame, ignoring the way her fingers dug into the arch of her foot, relieving a phantom ache that she didn't feel. She was a vampire, after all. The illusion of relaxation was just that—false. He wouldn't let it ease him. "Since you've had me waiting on you this past day, I'd say it is you that has joined me."

Katherine stood without warning, almost nose-to-nose with him in an instant. "We can join each other." She stepped away just as quickly, dissipating like a mist as she sat at her boudoir, shedding her dress on the way. She sat before it in a black slip only, facing her own reflection yet peering at him through the mirror.

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting," she said, tone nothing in the vicinity of apology. She pulled one string of false eyelashes off, slowly, tossing it aside. As she moved to give the other one the same treatment, she locked eyes with Elijah. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Your own foresight, if my room is any indication."

"Oh, do you like it?" she asked, voice muffled by the tissue she was wiping her lipstick off with.

"It's precisely my taste, as you know."

She turned over her shoulder to gift him a smile. There were flecks of lipstick staining her teeth, pink and sparkling where she'd pressed them there with the tissue. He doubted that was an accident, nor how swollen her lips looked after cleaning them. "How are you, Elijah?"

"Well enough."

"I heard you and Klaus had a falling out."

"One hears many things if they listen. Not all of them are true."

Katherine opened a drawer and retrieved a packet of what appeared to be wipes. She pulled one out and began rubbing it over her eyelids, the shimmering powder come off like a dusting of sand under a saltwater spray. "I lied," she admitted. "I didn't hear it. But I could see it in your eyes when you walked in, and I guessed it when I prepared your room for you. I've always known you, Elijah."

And there it was: the reason he'd come. The one thing he loathed her for was the one thing he needed her for the most. Even Matthew hadn't been able to see how scarcely Elijah was holding on.

"Am I to guess the nature of this falling out, or will you save me the trouble and regale me with another tale of Mikaelson woe?"

Elijah broke her gaze in the mirror, looking around the room instead. "It was the usual. Lack of cooperation, plotting without our knowledge. He faked his death this time, though. That hasn't happened before."

"It's not exactly beneath him, though, is it?"

Opting not to reply, Elijah scooped up the discarded dress and stockings, placing them in the laundry hamper just beside the bathroom door. He fetched the coat and heels and wandered into the adjoining walk-in wardrobe, finding their places easily: the coat among its sisters, the shoes in the only spare place along the floor. By the time he returned to the room, Katherine was finished, beaming at him with a youthfulness that was almost hard to look at.

She looked like Katerina. Sometimes, she was.

"Always cleaning up after me, Elijah," said Katerina, not budging an inch. "After all of us. You must be so exhausted." Where once her tone had been mocking, now it was only sincere.

Left with nothing else, Elijah had only the truth. "Why else would I come?"

"The same reason you always do."

Katerina extended her hand. Elijah took it.

Matt sunk into the sofa, the same place he'd always sat. He knew the Lockwood mansion better than his own home—had likely spent more time in it, most of his best memories either here or the Gilbert house. He was almost certain that the reason the sofa in the den molded so well to him was the impression his ass had left in its surface during thousands of hours of Call of Duty with Ty.

All that time, he'd never thought he'd own the place. But he did—in his name and everything.

Honestly, if you asked Matt, Ty could go fuck himself. Acting like the mansion was a substitute for friendship. It was almost 3am and Matt was alone, all alone, in a house that had never embraced a single owner in its entire span. Everyone here was lonely eventually; Matt had watched Ty's parents grow colder every year in it. He was convinced it was cursed.

But it was also all he had left.

Pulling out his phone, Matt scrolled through his contacts for a while, just watching the names spin by like the world's saddest slot machine. He'd really fucked up when he let Jeremy go to that island alone, when he'd accepted his non-invitation without a fight. For what? Time with Elijah and some useless memories he didn't know how to deal with?

Maybe there were some things you just weren't supposed to know. Maybe the fact that your ex-girlfriend fed on you and compelled you to forget multiple times, that your other ex-girlfriend almost killed you and let her current maybe-boyfriend compel away your memories and leave you for dead, that your friend had compelled you to forget your own sister's death ... maybe these were things Matt could have gone without knowing.

He did know he'd trade them in a second if he had half the chance.

Anger burning through him, Matt scrolled back through the names until he got to E. Pulling up his and Elijah's text messages, he found himself faced with the last few. All business, making plans to meet up, to get his memories fixed. Checking in on each other through drama after drama.

He wondered if Elijah knew that Jeremy was dead. Wondered if he cared.

Not giving himself a chance to think, Matt tapped out, Hey, where are you? He only barely stopped himself from sending it. What right did he have to ask? He'd sent Elijah away.

He'd sent everyone away.

Elijah stared at the bright rectangle of his screen in the dark.

No new messages.

Beside him in the bed, Katerina stirred. "'Lijah?" she whined, shielding her eyes from the light. "Something wrong?"

"No." Elijah clicked his phone off and set it on the nightstand. "Everything's fine. Go back to sleep."

Katerina hummed, reaching out to pull him to her. He went willingly, resting his cheek against her collarbone. He matched his breathing to hers until sleep took him.

Three days later, Elijah woke to his phone ringing. It was 3am and Katerina, who'd already shown her distaste for phones in the bedroom, groaned beside him.

"Sleep," Elijah told her, kissing her jaw and pulling the covers up. He swept up his phone, slipped on some pants and sped away, ending up down the street where the conversation wouldn't disturb his sleeping lover. And then he looked at the caller ID.

Answering in confusion, Elijah said, "Tam?"

"It's Lex."

"Lex? What are you doing with your mother's phone? Is everything all right?"

"Mom needs help. She won't call Grandma June, but she said I could call you."

"What happened?"

"She got hurt at work. Some guys came to the bar and stuff. She's in the hospital, and there's a lady here to take Dylan and me away."

"What lady?"

"She's a social worker. She says it's just to look after us while Mom's in the hospital, but she also asked a lot of questions about us being there when it happened."

"You were at the bar?" Of course they were. If childcare fell through, Tam couldn't just abandon her shift. Goddamit.

"Yeah. Can you please come? Dylan won't stop crying and Mom can't talk. I don't wanna go with the lady but she says we have to."

Elijah ran a hand over his face. "All right, Lex. I need you to tell the lady that I'm your uncle. Say I'm coming to look after you, so she won't need to."

"What if she doesn't believe me?"

"You can put me on the phone to her now, if you like. But you have to keep up the story, make sure she doesn't think we're lying. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Uncle Eli." Shuffling on the end of the phone. "My uncle wants to talk to you."

More shuffling, then a woman's voice. "Hello? This is Janet. Who is this?"

"I'm Elijah, the boys' uncle."

"I was unaware Tamara had a brother."

"Uncle on their father's side. I'll be by to take care of them soon. I'm in Pennsylvania at the moment, but I'm packing as we speak." A lie. He was standing shirtless in the middle of the street. "I appreciate you looking after the boys while I make my way there."

"Yes, well, anything to help. It's been a rather traumatic situation for them both, and I'm sure Tamara will appreciate your help. You can pick the boys up from the child protective services office on the main street."

"Thank you so much. Would you mind putting Lex back on the phone?"

"Of course.” More shuffling.

"Uncle Eli?"

"Lex. Janet is going to take you to her office, all right? I'll come by and pick you up before it's even light outside."

"What about Mom?"

"I'll make sure she's okay just as soon as I get you and Dylan sorted. She'd want you to take care of yourselves first. Do you understand?"

"I guess."

"Keep your mother's phone on you so you can call me if anything changes. I'll see you soon, all right?"

"All right."

With a beep, Lex hung up.

"Sounds like an interesting kid."

Elijah forced himself not to jump. "Hello, Juliana."

She emerged from the dark, heart resuming its beating. He'd have to ask her how she managed that. "So, you're leaving, then?"

"I have matters to attend to. I'll leave a note for Katherine."

"Don't bother." Juliana smirked. "I'll be sure to give her the full story. Have fun on your little trip."

She flashed away without a word, leaving Elijah alone in the cobblestone street.

Elijah did, in fact, leave a note for Katerina. It was simple and without flowery sentiment—just the way they both preferred. He drove the entire way to Maryland in silence, hands clenching and unclenching on the wheel.

The Child Protective Services Office was a squat, brown-bricked building with a gravel parking lot inserted out back. It was empty but for one vehicle, presumably Janet's, and most of the lights inside were off.

The doors were locked, as was probably sensible, so Elijah rapped on the frame until a middle-aged woman appeared, her blue eyes watery—perhaps from crying, perhaps because they were just always like that. She unlocked the door quickly and offered him her hand to shake. The wall of warm air and peach-scented perfume hit Elijah like a physical force, almost knocking him back a step.

"Janet Payne," she introduced herself. "You must be Elijah?"

Elijah shook her hand and nodded.

"Please, come on in. I'll take you to the boys."

She led him in past the front desk, one with a perspex barrier and only a slot to pass paper back in forth through. Elijah imagined one would come in handy if he ever reconciled with his family. The 'TAKE A NUMBER AND WAIT YOUR TURN' sign had its own appeal as well.

The boys were in a room brimming with toys that looked like they'd seen better days. Then again, so did the boys. Lex's hair was sticking up at all sides and Dylan's mouth was ringed with something white and foamy, perhaps ... ice cream? They were both in desperate need of baths, fresh clothes, and haircuts. Only two of those were an easy fix.

"Elijah!" said Lex, standing up upon spotting him. He seemed unsure of how to react, whether to go for a hug or what. Knowing that Janet watched on, Elijah stooped down to embrace Lex himself. The assertion that they needed baths was confirmed by closer proximity.

"Come on," said Elijah. "Pack up your things and let's get going."

"I'll need you to sign some paperwork first," said Janet.

Elijah turned to her, catching her eye carefully. "If you check again, I'm sure you'll find that everything is in order."

She blinked heavily, compulsion falling over her mind like a soft blanket, and said, "Of course."

"Come now, boys," Elijah directed over his shoulder. "Let's get going."

As it turned out, Lex and Dylan were very well-behaved for relative strangers. Lex wasn't entirely trusting, but he seemed to have gauged Elijah as their only viable option while Tam was still in hospital.

Dylan crashed in his bed just after Lex gave him a bath. Elijah didn't interfere; young children were particularly difficult when they deviated from routine, and Elijah had no intention of triggering a tantrum. The only child he'd interacted with in recent memory was Allie, and they'd been a nightmare to deal with at times.

With Dylan in bed, Lex sought Elijah for more food and company. Elijah had pulled together what he could from the kitchen—some eggs on toast, as it was almost breakfast time. Lex didn't seem all that tired, though.

"When are we going to go see Mom?" he asked through his egg.

"Once your brother wakes. I called the hospital to make sure they told her you're with me."

Lex nodded and set his cutlery down to pick up his toast and start chewing on it. "Where did you go?"

"I had family business to attend to."

"What kind of business?"

"The difficult kind."

Lex considered him. "Do you have kids?"

"No. I have siblings, though." And that's sometimes the same thing. "Why weren't you with your babysitter last night?" Tam should have had the money for it. Elijah had compelled her a raise, after all.

"Mom caught the sitter stealing some of her clothes last week. She hasn't found a new one yet."

People really were heathens sometimes, Elijah concluded.

"Are you gonna leave again?" Lex asked. There was nothing in his tone to indicate how he felt about it—he certainly wasn't upset, in any case. And why should he be? He barely knew Elijah.

"Not until I know everything's all right."

"Why can't you just stay?"

"Because I have things to do, Lex."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm ... a writer." The lie came easily; he'd used it most recently, when trying to worm his way into the Gilberts' lives. Just a writer researching Mystic Falls history, he'd told Jenna. He wondered if his lie hurried her death at his brother's hand.

"That's cool, I guess," Lex said boredly, playing with his now soggy toast.

Elijah stifled a laugh. Children were always good for the ego.

"You should get some rest," said Elijah. "Your mother will want to know you're doing well when she sees you."

"I'm not tired, though."

"Don't lie. I know you yawned when you were coming down the hallway. Finish your toast and get some sleep."

Lex didn't complain, but Elijah could tell he wanted to. "I'm not hungry," he said instead.

"Good. Brush your teeth. I'll wake you in a few hours."

"What if it's not visiting hours at the hospital?"

"I'm sure we'll figure something out. Go on, now."

Lex shot him one last look before wandering off down the hall, leaving Elijah with the half-eaten toast and an uncomfortable silence.

The hours passed slowly, Elijah monitoring the boys in the back of his mind. Dylan stayed right out until mid-morning, but Lex tossed and turned for the better part of three hours before he drifted off.

Entertaining Dylan wasn't difficult, much to Elijah's relief. He mostly drank from juice boxes and watched TV; neither of these things were strictly healthy, but Elijah didn't know enough about Tam's rules to enforce them. He allowed it, listening closely from the next room in case he was needed.

Lex didn't need waking. He rolled out of bed after a meagre two hours of rest, as grouchy as the teenager he would be in a few short years. He dressed both Dylan and himself, barely stopping to eat before insisting on going to see his mother.

Elijah drove with the radio on, something he rarely did. The music was annoying, but Dylan knew one or two songs and Lex seemed content to just be.

The hospital wasn't busy, thank god. It was a small-town one with barely enough room for two ambulances in the bay. There was only one nurse working the front desk—an older woman in purple, flowery scrubs. Her breath smelled like the egg she'd had for breakfast.

"Well, hi, there," she cooed, looking down at Dylan and Lex. "Everything all right, folks?"

"We're here to see Tamara Knight. She was brought in last night, injured in a bar fight."

"You a relative?"

"Her brother."

The nurse clicked at her computer for a moment. "Yep, here she is. Room 204. Go down the hall, turn left, then right, then left again. You should find her easy enough."

"Thank you."

Elijah led the boys down the way the nurse had said, but he didn't need the directions. He could hear Tam's breathing, her heartbeat—he could smell her scent. They arrived at her door, 204, and Lex knocked without being asked.

"Come in!"

Lex opened the door, making way for Dylan to dart in toward his mother. She reached over the edge of her bed and took him into her arms.

"Careful," Elijah cautioned, drawing Tam's gaze to him. Her eyes caught Elijah's, sharp, then turned to Lex as she motioned him closer. The three of them embraced, and Elijah ducked out, closing the door behind him.

Half an hour later, Lex poked his head out to find Elijah standing in the hall. "Mom wants to talk to you. I'm s'posed to take Dylan to the vending machine for some food."

"Do you have money?"

"Duh. Come on, Dylan." Lex pulled Dylan along down the hall in search of food, leaving the door wide open for Elijah to step through.

Inside, Tam was sitting up in her bed. She looked brighter than she had when he caught a glimpse of her earlier, some more colour in her cheeks, brighter light behind her eyes. She wasn't hooked up to any machines or drips, though there was a band aid over the back of her left hand.

"How are you feeling?" Elijah asked, sitting down beside her.

"Fine. I had a slight concussion, but they said I should be out by tonight."

Elijah could smell the blood on her, so he kept staring until she continued, "And there's a cut on the back of my shoulder. Not too deep, but they stitched it up." She motioned to her shoulder, the bandages rustling as she moved. They were mostly out of sight but made her hospital gown look bulky.

"What happened last night? Lex said you were attacked by some man."

"Yeah, just a regular patron."

Elijah stared at her, unimpressed.

"What?" asked Tam, raising her arms innocently. "It's true. He's in there all the time." She sighed. "But we also dated."

"And was his anger at you related to his patronage or your relationship?"

"The latter."

"I trust he's in custody?"

"Yeah, but he won't stay that way. His brother's one of the deputies. Gets him off for everything—DUIs, drunken disorderlies, all of it."

"He won't be this time."

"You sound so certain."

"I am. What else can I do for you?"

"Nothing, really. You already took the boys."

"You don't sound entirely comfortable with that."

Tam shook her head. "Lex was right to call you. There wasn't another option. I just didn't sleep well knowing my kids were in the care of a relative stranger."

"Would you have preferred I leave them with social services?" Elijah intended it as a genuine question. "If so, I apologise, but the situation as it was communicated to me—"

“No, it's fine. They would've looked the kids up, called their grandmother."

"Yes, the famed 'Grandma June'. Your mother or their father's?"

"Mine."

"You were seriously injured in a bar fight. Your mother has no place in this?"

"If she set foot in this town, she'd be reporting me to social services."

"She'd incite a custody battle?"

"She'd win it, too. She's got money, a nice house, a good name, a college education. I've got a record for solicitation and I just got glassed in a fight with an ex-boyfriend while my children cowered under the bar I work at." Tam laughed bitterly. "Maybe they'd be better off with her."

"Do you believe that?"

"I hated living with her, but I might've hated living like this, too."

"You love your sons more than she ever will."

"Love isn't always enough."

"Not always, no." Elijah thought of Niklaus, begging him to free him from his chains with their father beat him, while their mother cursed him. He thought of Rebekah suffering at Niklaus' hand again and again while Elijah watched on. He thought of Marcel, the boy they rescued and left to Niklaus to ruin. "You have to choose whether you allow yourself to be their mother or a spectator in their upbringing. Choose wisely, and choose quickly, because there are two police officers sixty seconds away from arriving at this door to question you over last night's events."

Tam's eyes widened. "How do you—"

"I just know. Choose, Tam. They have your police records, they know who you are, and they have the power to report you to the relevant bodies. Choose what you want me to help you achieve."

"I can't." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I can't stop this from going wrong."

"Do you want me to? I can make this all go away."

"I ... I don't know. What would you do?"

"This isn't up to me, Tam. Now, tell me—what do you want?"

The door opened, revealing Lex and Dylan. Dylan wandered right in to show his mother the bag of cheetos from the vending machine, but Lex stayed rooted in place, looking down the hall at the approaching police officers.

"That looks yum, baby," Tam told Dylan absently. "How about you go and get some real food with Elijah and your brother, huh?"

"Tam, I can stay—"

"No, Elijah." Tam met his gaze. "I have some things to take care of."

The officers arrived at the door, Lex still staring up at them.

"Tamara Knight?" asked one of them, fingers hooked into his belt.

Lex stepped away from them, back into the room. "Mom?"

"It's fine, sweetie. You're going to lunch with Uncle Elijah while I talk to the officers about last night, okay?"

"Can't I stay?"

"We'll come right back," Elijah assured him. "I swear."

Lex didn't repeat his protests, eyeing the police officers with trepidation as Elijah led him out.

Lunch was awkward. Dylan picked an ice cream shop that Elijah didn't have the presence of mind to argue against. Lunch became sundaes and being babysat by "Uncle Elijah" turned into an hour long sugar high that Elijah didn't dare bring back to the hospital.

It was Lex's suggestion, going to the park. He seemed to have inferred the need to fill in time, and having Dylan burn off the high was only a positive. Elijah sat on a bench beside a breastfeeding woman while he watched the boys. Dylan raced around the equipment, Lex following him with a watchful eye.

Elijah's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, finding himself facing a raunchy selfie of Katerina. He had no idea when she'd had a chance to enter her new number and add a contact photo, and he didn't have the presence of mind to wonder. The woman on the bench beside him must have seen the image, too, as she slid away from him a fraction and tightened her grip on the baby.

So, really, Elijah could hardly be blamed for answering the phone with a curt, "Hello."

"You don't sound as happy about my new contact photo as I thought you would."

"You don't ask for permission as much as I think you should."

"Because it's boring. Where are you?"

"Did Juliana not fill you in?"

"She said something about Maryland, some kid calling you. Care to fill me in? Oh, thank you, Randy,” Katerina cooed, taking a long sip of something.

"You're at the diner."

"And you travelled interstate. Spill."

Elijah hesitated. Trusting Katerina had never ended well for anyone, and he had no intention of falling back into old habits. Had he known Juliana was listening to his conversation the night before, he'd have found somewhere else to talk. As it was, Katerina had caught a scent and she had no intention of letting it slip away. "Can we discuss it when I get back?"

"When will that be?"

"Soon." Elijah got the sense that Tam didn't like having him watch the boys, and if she was doing what he thought she was then how she felt wouldn't matter much longer anyway. "I'll update you when I know more. Things are ... complicated."

"Then tell me. Maybe I can help."

"Not to doubt your skills, Katerina, but I doubt there's anything here that you can handle that I cannot. It's all rather ..." Elijah watched Lex help Dylan onto the see-saw. "Mundane."

Katerina chuckled. "I'll steer clear, then." There was a pause, only the sound of chatter in the diner and wind in the park between them. "You were gone when I woke up."

"I left a note."

"You could've woken me and told me yourself."

"You travelled far enough. You needed your rest."

"How do you know how far I travelled?"

"Your hair smelled like dirt when you first returned. I assumed you wouldn't allow yourself to be sullied unless it was in a remote location, lest someone capture the incident on film."

"The worst of all human inventions.” Another pause. "I hope I don't have to wake up alone for long."

"I'll be back soon." Back. Not home. He didn't say that anymore.

"Promise?"

"Of course. And if you miss me, you can just call."

"Mm. I guess my photo should entice you back on its own."

"That it should," Elijah replied, as though he had no intention of changing it as soon as the call ended. The last thing he needed was one of the boys picking up his phone while Katerina called it. "I look forward to seeing you again."

"You'd better. See you soon."

The indistinct chatter cut off, leaving Elijah with a dead line.

Walking into the hospital felt more like walking into a morgue. The police cruiser was absent from the parking lot as he pulled on, but the moment Elijah opened his car door he caught a waft of peach perfume and knew exactly what was coming.

Janet was there.

Lex helped Dylan out of his car seat. The toddler's eyes were droopy, his hair slick with cooling sweat at the temples. He was certainly past his sugar high.

"Let's go see your mother," Elijah said, trying (and failing) to get a reaction from one of them. As when they first came by, it was Lex who held Dylan's hand when they crossed the road. Elijah was more of a spectator than anything else as Lex followed the path they'd originally taken, arriving at his mother's hospital room door. It was ajar, both Tam and Janet inside.

"What's she doing here?" asked Lex, eyeing Janet with disdain.

"She's here to talk to us about a few things," Tam replied. She spotted Dylan and opened her arms wide. "C'mere, baby!"

Dylan wandered over to his mother, climbing up onto her bed and settling in along her side. She ran a hand through his damp hair, then looked back at Lex, who hadn't moved an inch.

"Come in, Lex. We need to talk."

"I'll ... give you all a moment," said Elijah, excusing himself. He shut the door behind him and avoided Lex's gaze through the glass as he walked away.

Two hours later, Elijah was still studiously ignoring the loud conversation he could easily eavesdrop on—Lex was currently accusing his mother of abandonment, and Elijah had no intention of intruding on that difficult moment. He'd visited the billing department to see to things, but that had been irritatingly free of bureaucratic nonsense and concluded in half an hour. Elijah soon concluded that there was only so much time a person could spend in the cafeteria before they lost track of any world that existed beyond it, which was how he found himself staring down at the mimicry of a sandwich before him while the argument on the other side of the hospital reached fever pitch.

"I promise I'll visit you there, Lexi,” Tam was saying. "It's not forever—just for now."

"But you hate Grandma June! You never want to see her—"

"I don't hate her, Lex. She's my mother. We don't always get along, but that doesn't mean you won't."

"We don't even know her."

"You knew her when you were a baby and you loved her. She used to sing you songs and play all kinds of games; you thought she hung the moon. Trust me, Lex. This will be good for you."

"But this is our home ..."

Elijah forced himself to tune out once more, taking a bite of his sandwich. He promptly spat it out, but at least it was distracting enough from the matter at hand to give him a temporary reprieve.

Tam was discharged by 4pm, as sworn by the medical staff. She enquired about the bills and was informed of their status as paid; something in the way she looked at Elijah told him she wasn't thrilled by his interference. She had bigger things to worry about.

Elijah drove the three of them home after Janet departed. Tam was forbidden from driving while she was on pain meds, though Elijah could tell she hadn't taken any yet. Her shoulder bothered her, but she put on a good show as she tried to get Lex to talk to her.

He wouldn't.

With the boys home and unpacked from their day, Elijah was left at rather a loose end. He quickly got the impression he was an unwelcome hoverer in what was Tam's last few hours with her boys before her mother arrived the next morning, so he made himself scarce.

Surprisingly, the old man running the motel recognised Elijah from his visit several weeks previously. Unsurprisingly, the same room was free, the ice machine was still broken, and Elijah wished desperately he were anywhere else.

Dropping down onto the bed, Elijah checked his phone for messages, finding nothing. He told himself he was waiting to hear from Katerina. He knew it wasn't true.

Once the blood started flowing, Tam's ex-boyfriend was a screamer. Elijah kept him silent enough.

Elijah stayed clear of the Knight house the next morning. Tam had his number; she'd call if she needed him. She didn't until late that afternoon, when the sun's light filtered through the motel window and lit up the dust motes Elijah was trying desperately not to see.

"They're gone,” was the first thing she said. "CPS wasn't even involved. I just let her take them."

Elijah paused, waiting for more information. She didn't speak, just breathed heavy on the line. "I'll be there in five minutes," he said, ending the call.

Elijah arrived in three minutes, wasting no time in letting himself in by the unlocked front door. He flicked it locked behind him and continued, finding Tam at the kitchen table with the remains of what looked like a very depressing lunch in front of her.

"Are you all right?"

Tam didn't speak, just met his gaze with an exasperated look—or as exasperated as it could be while her eyes were so unfocused. Elijah scented the air for alcohol, finding nothing. She must have finally taken her meds.

"You should get some rest," he suggested. "I can find some dinner for when you wake up—"

"I need you to leave."

"Pardon?"

"Leave town," she clarified, struggling up from her chair. "I can't rebuild my life with you looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you can fix it. It's not yours to fix, and I don't want you here while I do it myself."

"Tam, please, let me help you."

"Why?" asked Tam, words slurring together. "Why d'you care? You drove all the way here from another state to watch my kids. I let you b'cause of what you did f' me, b'cause I trusted you, b'cause I thought nothing could be worse and that anything was better than my mother and you'd just be helpful for a little bit then you go and pay my bills and you're just here all the time and it's ... what do you want from me?" She drew in a breath, stepping back from him a little until her back hit the wall. She hissed at the pain. "Why did you have to kill him?"

"Tamara, what—"

"I know Benny is dead. They found his body in the river. Said it looks like a suicide, but I know better." Her gaze was accusatory, her stance defensive. Perhaps not quite enough for someone accusing another of murder, but still, the judgment was there.

"Tamara, he—he hurt you. He would've hurt your sons."

"You don't know that!"

"I ASKED HIM, Tamara!" Elijah snapped. "I asked him, and he told me everything he did and everything he was going to do. Why would I let him live?"

"His brother's a deputy," said Tam, breathless and wide-eyed. "I could turn you in. You'd never see the light of day again."

"You won't." Elijah tried to sound certain. He could always compel her, but he didn't want to. She'd do what she did, and he would face the consequences.

"Why not? Why shouldn't I? You're a killer, Elijah. I let you watch my children and then you killed a man."

"A man that tried to hurt you."

"That doesn't mean you can kill him!" Tam kicked the back of her foot against the wall, eyes screwed shut. "Just ... leave, Elijah. Please."

"You've been through a lot, Tam. You're angry now, so get some rest. I'll come by in the morning with breakfast—"

"Oh, my god, no. This isn't some trauma response, Elijah. I need you to go."

Elijah drew back, calculating. "I'll be in town until tomorrow morning," he said, deciding as he said it aloud. "If you ask me to stay, I will. But if I don't have a message from you by nine tomorrow, I'll know you want me gone for real."

"Are you always this smothering?" Tam scoffed. "No wonder you don't have a family."

"You're lashing out," Elijah said, rationalising. "I'll take my leave. Please—call me if you need to."

Tam didn't respond, just watched him carefully as he retreated. He could've sworn he still felt her eyes on his back, all the way down the street.

No call came through from Tam by morning. Elijah didn't know what he'd expected, but the feeling was familiar. First Klaus, then Matthew, now Tam—all making it perfectly clear just how unnecessary he was.

It's unbecoming to pout, he warned himself, schooling his features as he stopped by the front office of the motel to check out.

"Good day for travel," said the old man, taking the key back from Elijah and hanging it on its hook. "You drive safe now, friend."

"Thank you for your hospitality." Elijah swept up his suitcase, not one for wheeling it—there was something plebeian about the movement that he abhorred—and made his way out, stepping lightly over the cracks in the concrete before arriving at his car.

Inside, Elijah paused. His phone burned a hole in his pocket (almost literally, as he'd been informed there was a slight overheating issue he needed to have seen to). Pulling it out, he found the conversation with Katerina and tapped out a message.

Heading back to town.

It took Katerina all of ten seconds to reply. I've always wanted to have a picnic at the gazebo in town.

I know the one. Should be there about 1PM.

Make it 2. You have to stop for food for us.

Elijah snorted. Katerina Petrova did not fill baskets with pastries for outdoors picnics. 2PM it is. I'll see you soon.

And with that, Elijah got on the road.

#the originals #tvd #elijah mikaelson #matt donovan #malijah #can i tag it as that if we're still in the match-striking phase of this slowburn?#idk i make the rules i guess #fuck #die easy #fanfic #mine

2 notes · View notes

illuminateinjapan · 7 years

Text

First Kiss

A/N: So I just started school two days ago & I wanna cry, but its okay because listening to Shawn in the car to and from school makes it all better. Also I got inspired to write this because of New Girl, which y'all should watch. It’s so funny!

Shawn finally had a break after ending his US tour, and what better way to celebrate it then to hold a Friends Night In at his new apartment in Toronto? The whole gang was there Matt, Brian, Ian, Geoff, Lindsey, and of course you. The room was set up with pizza, a couple of beers, a whole stack of board games with a bit of John Mayer softly playing through his new Samsung stereos.

“Hey guys, let’s play Truth or Dare!” Lindsey piped up excitedly. Everyone was into the idea, except for you and Shawn, groaning at the ridiculous game.

“Oh come on that such a kid’s game.” Shawn whined. “Plus you know we’re just gonna pick truth for every round.”

“Then don’t pick truth.” Brian called out.

“Well I would if somebody doesn’t spit out life threatening dares.” Shawn glared at his red head best friend.

“Well same goes for truth.” Matt spoke out as Shawn shook his head, denying the fact. “Really...you mean to tell me you have nothing to hide?”

“Yeah Shawn nothing?” Geoff questioned as he quickly looked at you and then back at Shawn with a smug smile.

“Okay.... let’s just play the game with boundaries then. No life threatening dares, no life threatening truths, and well use a dice to determine truth or dare. Even is truth and Odd is dare? Okay?” you announced to your bickering best friends. of course they all reluctantly agreed knowing they had no choice in the matter when you set things straight.

Game passed on, seeming harmless throughout. Of course no one was ever going to let go at the fact that Brian licked Geoff’s hairy toe for 7 seconds straight. It was the highlight of tonight, but Lindsey was about to make Pickering History.

Shawn rolled his dice landing on an odd number, awaiting for the dare that was yet to come. “Shawn....I dare you to play 7 minutes in Heaven, but you won't know with who until you get into the closet.” Shawn immediately dropped his head in his hands, groaning loud and proud.

“Can I pass?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“I would like to pass.”

“Too bad.” Brian said as he dragged him to closet. Everyone in the room was looking at you, as you stood there oblivious to what was going on.

“Y/N..this is it?” Lindsey smiled with such pride.

“What?” you questioned, confused as to what was going on.

“This is your chance go in there.” she whispered, knowing for years how much you fawned over Shawn. It certainly was what you wanted, but you knew this was too much. How could you possible suck the face off a guy you've secretly loved, not to mention be titled as one of your best friends. It could ruin everything. Without giving you time to protest, Lindsey and the other pushed you into the spacious locked closet with a tall dorky superstar.

“Y/N?!” he whispered as his face immediately turned red. “No, no, no, no, no” he muttered. The excitement in you dropped instantly realizing that he didn't want this as much as you thought. Pushing the thought away, you whispered “ We could just fake it.”

“WE WANT PICTURES.” Everyone out yelled out as they continued their chant “KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!”

“Look Shawn just kiss me. It’ll be over and done with” You spoke out. Of course he was against it.

“No I can’t.” he spoke out looking away.

“You cant?” raising your eyebrows, slightly offended. “What? Is there something wrong with me?

“No.”

“Then why can’t you kiss me? It’ll mean nothing, and they’ll stop their little hoorah of a chant.”

“Because..I just can’t kiss you Y/N...Not like this.”

“What do you mean?” you asked catching on to the last phrase.

He locked his eyes with yours realizing what he said. There was certainly no turning back now, as a smile started to form on his face. Bring his hand to your cheek, he softly stroked your cheekbone, causing you to blush harder than ever before. “I’ve always had a thing for you Y/N. I’ve been meaning to tell you at the right time, but considering our position...”

“I don't understan--”

“Look I know this thing is making me look like Im offending harshly because I don’t want to kiss you. I do, believe me I do, but not in a pressured environment with doofuses chanting for us to kiss. I’ve always imagined it to be somewhere peaceful and where it all clicks into place you know? I promise I will just not like this.” He leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead and eventually sending a fake picture of the both of you kissing.

The hours passed by as the night seemed to draw to a close. One by one everyone started to head out, until it was just you and Shawn. You quickly grabbed your things, as he walked you to the door.

“Well, I guess Ill see you?” you questioned after the 7 minutes of Hell, unsure of exactly what this all meant now for you both.

“Yeah..Yeah...I’ll see you.” he replied scratching the back of his head, you smiled at him silently asking him to stop him from leaving, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Filled with disappointment you waved him goodbye as you took your first step out the door. Only to be pulled down by the hand and spun, facing Shawn’s chest. He quickly leaned down placing his lips on yours, providing as much passion, love, and hopefulness into the heated kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands found their way to his neck and curly hair. It was bliss.

He pulled away to catch his breath, but placed his forehead onto yours. “That’s the first kiss you deserve to have.”

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn imagine #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn x reader

154 notes · View notes

returnsandreturns · 7 years

Note

If you're still interested in writing prompts: maybe tiny bby!Matt who just started training with Stick gets pulled into the future, and Foggy finds him and is insanely overprotective of him, and very angrily vocal about how everything Stick put Matt through was child abuse because big!Matt never told Foggy the truth, but bby!Matt has no such compunction to lie and Matt is baffled and maybe wants to cry because he's not used to people being so protective of any version of him since his dad died

this is sort of, kind of this prompt, a little bit!!

Foggy opened his door at 3 AM expecting Matt, probably bleeding and soaked through from the rain that’s hitting against his windows right now, but instead he finds Matt and a bonus small child. Matt’s the only one bleeding, at least, but the kid’s hair is wet and plastered to his head and he’s shivering.

“Right, okay—I’m getting you both clothes to change into,” Foggy says, immediately, walking to his bedroom but still talking in the same tone, figuring the kid probably can’t hear him that way, “and then hopefully you can tell me that we won’t be facing any kidnapping charges or that you’ve secretly had a son this entire time, because that’s, like—I’m a blind ninja—or yes, Foggy, I’m 100% straight levels of lying, man.”

When he comes back out, Matt’s jacket is crumbled on the floor, and he’s apparently ignoring the blood blooming out over his white shirt for kneeling in front of the kid and talking quietly while the kid looks—scared, maybe, but also fascinated.

“First aid kit’s in the kitchen,” Foggy says, dropping a hand down to ruffle Matt’s wet hair before Matt stands up and takes the clothes from him. “Make sure you don’t die, I don’t think I’m up for being a single parent.”

“He’s not my kid,” Matt says. “He’s—it’s complicated.”

“What isn’t with you?” Foggy asks, kissing his cheek before he kneels down in front of the kid and starts to say something to him, startled when he realizes that he’s blind, too. Blind and—Matt’s nose and his eyes and—“Uhm, Matt?”

“Yeah?” the kid asks, softly, kind of rough.

“…holy crap,” Foggy breathes.

“So, time travel,” Foggy says, kind of hysterically, once he’s shown tiny Matt how to use his shower and given him clothes that hopefully he can move in without tripping—boxers that can cinch at the waist and a t-shirt that he’s pretty sure belonged to his older counterpart in college, before he was all jacked up.

“Apparently,” Matt says, smiling weakly.

“What happened, exactly?” Foggy asks. They’re huddled together in Foggy’s kitchen, talking close in voices low enough that Matt says tiny Matt won’t be able to hear, not with his senses still relatively new and unfocused.

“Thunderstorm?” Matt offers, shrugging. “It was like--like rumbling thunder that shook everything around me and he was just there.”

“You were just there,” Foggy says.

“The pronouns are confusing,” Matt says. He sighs, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Foggy’s for a moment before he pulls back, making an exhausted face. “Any idea what to do here?”

“Kind of out of my wheelhouse, babe,” Foggy says, taking his hand. “Does he know that—that he’s you?”

“I think he’s figuring it out,” Matt says, voice going even softer as he continues, “He tried to fight me and he keeps—asking for Stick and I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe, if he could stay here for a few hours, I could finally take Stark up on that visit—see if any of his people had any clue.”

“Well, if anyone would have accidentally time traveled, it would be Tony Stark,” Foggy says. “Do you think he’ll be okay with me? I’m absolutely sure he could take me in a fight.”

“I won’t fight you,” says a small, slightly pissed off voice from the doorway.

“Hey, little dude,” Foggy says, which earns him a frown. “Thanks for that, it’ll spare my ego, not having my ass kicked by an actual child.”

Tiny Matt looks lost and nervous, even skinnier with the old Columbia t-shirt hitting somewhere past his knees—it’s slipped off one of his shoulders, exposing a mottled bruise covering most of it, which makes Foggy’s breath catch.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s happening?” Tiny Matt asks, steeling his face. “I’m not scared, I just don’t trust you.”

“Hey, stranger danger, I get it,” Foggy says, then elbows Matt in the side, adds softly, “You gonna tell him?”

Matt says, “Uhm,” drawing it out too long, which earns him a glare from child him. Foggy sighs.

“Just go do what you gotta do,” he says, ruffling Matt’s hair before physically turning him and shoving him lightly towards the door. “I’m better at talking than you, anyway.”

Matt throws a smile over his shoulder, gratefully, says a good-bye which tiny Matt pointedly does not return. There’s a long silence before Foggy says, “Well, I’m making cocoa. Or coffee? I have this feeling that you might drink straight black coffee, kid, you’re intimidating like that.”

Matt makes a face at him and shakes his head.

“Fair enough,” Foggy says. “Couch is about four feet forward, couple of steps to your right. Make yourself at home.”

He turns around to start the cocoa, glancing back to see Matt sitting stiffly on the couch, shoulders up and arms still curled around himself. They let a silence creep around them, not exactly comfortable, until Matt finally pipes up with a wary, “What year is it?”

Foggy smiles without turning around.

“You’re pretty smart,” he says, holding two mugs as he walks around the kitchen island and over to where Matt’s sitting. “Cocoa, straight ahead.”

Matt lifts his hand slowly until his fingers brush over the mug and he takes it, wrapping two small hands around it.

“You guys weren’t talking as quietly as you thought,” he says, lifting the mug up to feel the steam on his face. “I have—good hearing.”

“I know,” Foggy says. “I told—uhm, my friend—that we should probably walk down the street.”

“You told me,” Matt says. “He’s—he’s me, right?”

“He is,” Foggy says, settling down a few inches away from him, “with a lot more years and student debt on you. Do you have any idea what happened to bring you here?”

Matt takes a sip of the cocoa before he shrugs, looking for all the world like grown-up Matt, saying, “One second I was training, and then I hit the floor and there was—thunder? Felt like an earthquake, maybe. And then I was with him—me. With me.”

“You’re doing a really admirable job of not freaking out,” Foggy says. “Especially considering that I’m freaking out and I didn’t time travel at all.”

“This is weird,” Matt says, before turning his head towards Foggy, curiously, “Who are you?”

“Foggy,” Foggy says, smiling when Matt laughs, like he can’t help himself. “Yeah, get it out, it’s a funny name. I’m Matt’s—well, your law partner.”

“I’m a lawyer?” Matt asks, sounding surprised.

“A damn good one,” Foggy says.

“And you—are you—” Matt’s voice drops to a whisper. “Together?”

“It takes a long time for you to figure out that situation, so you don’t need to worry about it,” Foggy says, as gently as he can, “but, yeah. We’re together. And—you’re happy, I think, for what it’s worth.”

Matt looks conflicted but he nods.

“You want to take a break from the talking and I’ll, like, describe some cartoons to you?” Foggy asks, reaching for the remote at the other end of the couch, because tiny Matt seems just as uncomfortable talking about his feelings as grown-up Matt.

Matt shrugs again. Foggy learned long ago to take that as a very cautious yes.

Matt calls a half hour later—tiny Matt’s finished his cocoa and is looking halfway comfortable next to him, legs pulled up and curled underneath him, looking up curiously when Foggy answers his phone.

“Hey,” Matt says. “It’s—gonna be a while.”

“No luck?” Foggy asks.

“Stark’s calling in consultants,” Matt says, sighing. “He keeps calling me fascinating, too, which is—awkward.”

“Don’t let him seduce you away from me with his endless wealth,” Foggy says, “but take your time. I think we’ll be okay here.”

Tiny Matt is listening intently when Matt says, “Did you two talk?”

“We did,” Foggy says, “and we’re all surprisingly calm and okay here. Him more than me. He’s unsurprisingly strong.”

The smallest smile creeps up on tiny Matt’s lips.

“Good,” Matt says, over the phone. “That’s good. I’ll be back as soon as I can, hopefully with something helpful. Thanks for this.”

“Not a problem,” Foggy says. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Matt says, earnestly, before he hangs up.

Tiny Matt’s cheeks are kind of pink and Foggy huffs out a laugh.

“Seriously, you’re too young to even start thinking about any of this,” he says. “Save any identity crises you’re planning on having for college, when everybody else is doing it.”

“I’m not that young,” Matt says, rebelliously. “I know stuff.”

“I’m sure you know way too much,” Foggy says, then stops for a moment before he turns off the TV, shifting in Matt’s direction. “Hey, could you tell me about your—training, is that what you called it? What you’re learning?”

Matt hesitates for a second before he gets a surprisingly eager look on his face, following Foggy’s prompts and telling him all about what exactly Stick is doing to him. That’s the only way Foggy can think of it, even though Matt seems pleased with himself—that someone’s doing this to him.

Matt must notice that he’s getting increasingly angry, probably listening to his heartbeat, before he draws off in the middle of a sentence with his eyebrows knit together.

“What?” he asks.

“Uhm,” Foggy says, blinking back tears and standing up. “Nothing, dude, it’s fine. I think you should probably get some sleep. Come on, you can take my bed.”

“You’re mad,” Matt says, accusatory, following him into the bedroom regardless.

“Not at you,” Foggy says. “Well, a little at you—but the grown up version. You’re good, though, I like you—actually, could I hug you? Just a quick hug.”

Matt shifts uncomfortably on his feet before he scowls and opens his arms, letting Foggy lean down to pull him into a quick, firm hug. He’s so small, and Foggy wonders just how many bruises he has right now, feeling fiercely upset.

“The bed’s three steps behind you,” he says, letting go of Matt and standing up. “You know where the bathroom is. Yell if you need anything.”

Matt nods, waiting until Foggy’s stepping out of the room to say, quietly, “Thanks.”

“You’re so welcome,” Foggy says. “Sleep tight.”

He calls grown-up Matt after he’s sure that the kid’s asleep, says, before Matt can even say hello, “We’re going to talk about exactly what shit you had to go through when you were his age once this is all figured out.”

Matt’s quiet for a stretch before he says, softly, “Yeah, okay.”

“I love you so fucking much,” Foggy says, and he can hear Matt’s smile.

“I love you, too,” he says. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Fair warning, I’m gonna cry on you,” Foggy says, “and possibly adopt tiny you and refuse to let him go back to his time. It’ll be weird, but you’ll just have to live with it.”

“Whatever you want,” Matt says, huffing out a sad, tired laugh, “but we might screw up our timelines even more than we already have.”

“…shit,” Foggy says. “Well, at the very least, I’m going to teach this adorable, messed up infant exactly what abuse is before we send him back. And then I’m gonna just—love the hell out of you.”

“More than you already do?” Matt asks.

“You don’t even know,” Foggy says. “Get ready for it.”

After they hang up, Foggy opens the bedroom door quietly to check on the kid and finds him curled up in a ball, fast asleep and snoring softly. His face is calm and content, and it almost hurts to see it.

He goes back to sleep on the couch, hoping hard that everything’s going to work out for the best.

#mattfoggy #my fic #daredevil #the feelings #forlorn-kumquat

262 notes · View notes