the sequel to this ficlet i posted yesterday literally none one asked for. (I blame @sapphicsugden for mentioning wanting to see robert react to the voicemail. oops.)

home is wherever i’m with you 

robert gets a voicemail from aaron that has him running to leeds train station to reassure his husband of his love. 

1,669 words.

Robert got out of the shower, towelling his hair dry as he turned to look at himself in the mirror, sighing at dark circles that had found a permanent home there. If he’d ever assumed marriage would make his life, their lives easier, he’d been entirely wrong - even after therapy, even after marriage counselling, regardless of how hard they’d worked on their relationship, they could seem to shake the petty arguments and sniping that always seemed to put a strain on their relationship.

He couldn’t even remember what they’d been fighting about, really, but Aaron had left for meetings in London two days previously, and they hadn’t even been on speaking terms.

Robert had only heard about Aaron’s trip from Liv, the blonde as perspective as ever and knowing Robert would only worry if he didn’t hear from Aaron, but was too stubborn to call (and vice versa, he could only assume, or hope, either or either.)

Going through his usual post shower routine, Robert fished about their messy ensuite for his moisturiser. He’d gone for a shower in the middle of the afternoon in the hopes of relaxing the stiff, sore muscles of his body, easing the tension he’d been carrying for days.

It hadn’t worked, really, but at least he looked less terrible than he had done a half an hour previously as he padded into their bedroom, rooting for some fresh clothes to wear. He really needed to put on a load of washing, the hamper in their room overflowing.

Robert dressed quickly, in a neat blue shirt and navy trousers, pausing to sit on Aaron’s side of the bed as he laced up his shoes. He might as well be productive while he waited for Aaron to come home that evening, he supposed, stuffing his damp towel into the hamper before he headed downstairs, navigating the spiral staircase.

Robert couldn’t help but laugh as he noticed Liv’s overflowing washing basket plonked down by the washing machine. At least it was a step up from leaving her clothes all over her bedroom floor, he supposed.

Separating the colours was a blissfully monotonous task as Robert set about making piles of darks, whites, and colours, Aaron’s clothes overwhelmingly in the darks pile.

Some things would never change.

Washing on, Robert headed for the kitchen, flicking the kettle on before he picked up his mobile, surprised to see a new voicemail from Aaron. Holding it to his ear, Robert leaned against the kitchen counter as he listened.

“I know the last few weeks have been hard, but I want you to know that I love you, and no one makes me happy the way you do. I’m sitting on the train home, and I just… All I want is to be with you, right now, and for the rest of my life. Yeah? So whatever else is going on, we’ll sort it, because I love you, Robert.”

Robert’s heart was racing as he listened to the voicemail, the emotion clear in Aaron’s voice as he spoke. Sometimes, even now, three years on from their wedding day, Robert had moments where he wondered if Aaron would stay, if Aaron would always think that he was worth the hassle, worth the stress.

Robert didn’t always think he was worth the hassle, but here his husband was, telling him that he loved him, that all he wanted was to be with him, that he loved him, and Robert’s heart could have burst out of his chest.

“I’ll be home, soon. Pick me up in Leeds, yeah? We can go for dinner or something, I want to spend some time with ya.”

Robert pressed the palm of his hand into his eye, taking a few seconds to breathe deeply before he did anything else.

Aaron always did floor him.

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neiticora  asked:

11. Bandages with Evfra/Sara or Jaal/Sara! Much love from your friendly Angaran prompt-AI.

Evfra is bleeding.

For only being three words long, the thought sure is the sneeze that causes an avalanche in Sara’s brain. One - holy shit that looks bad. Two - medigel works on angara, right? Where’s Jaal when you need him? Three-

Did he take that instead of me?

Evfra is a brutal fighter when he has the freedom for it. She’s seen him snipe a target from truly breathtaking distances if the mission requires it, but she still remembers the gleam in his eyes in the split-second before the kett had ambushed them.

It resonates. She’d charged into battle with the same wild ferocity she always wielded, and he had joined her in the middle of the fray, slaughtering kett with the same terrifying efficiency he did everything. Including taking hits for her, apparently. Sara’s brain rocks back to reality as he stumbles, and she moves quickly to stabilise him, sliding under one of his arms.

“Heyheyhey, I’ve got you,” she says, except he’s of course refusing to rest his weight on her. That earns him a scowl, which gets her a blank look in return, because it’s just her luck to be saddled with the one angara in the universe allergic to sharing his feelings.

“I do not,” he growls, “require your assistance, Pathfinder.”

“Yeah, yeah, tell me again when you haven’t just had your back torn open.” She squints up at him as they stagger their way back to the relative shelter of the Nomad, before straight up kicking him in the shin. He grunts, sags for a second, and then gives her a look that’s somewhere between rolling his eyes and tearing her head off.

But he lets her lead him to the Nomad, so Sara’s going to consider this one a win.

She raises her voice for a second. “Vetra? Watch our backs, would you? We don’t seem to be that great at doing it ourselves.”

“Already on it,” the turian’s dry tones report back.

Evfra’s eyes flicker after her, return to Sara. They’re disconcertingly blue, and wow, now is definitely not the time to be thinking about that.

“You trust your team,” he says.

She lowers him to the ground, thanking her dubious parking skills for landing them next to one of the heat lamps the kett had set up. Warmth and cover, a good first start. And, her memory pings, Jaal has definitely used medigel before. Sara fumbles for some of her supply. Good step two.

“With my life,” she says. “Look, I’m not a doctor, but I’ve got medigel and steady hands that are going to reach this wound of yours a lot easier than yours are. Will you let me deal with it?”

He looks at her for so long that she starts to wonder if the translators have borked. She opens her mouth to repeat it, but he makes some kind of noise in the back of his throat, shaking his head. Frustration, she realises, although if it’s for her or himself she can’t tell.

“In this, at least, I’ll trust you.”

“Thanks,” she mutters,, crouching behind him. The round ripped through his armour when his shields were nearly depleted, and weeps a sluggish blue. Ugly to look at, but Sara’s just grateful not to be using words like pouring or gushing.

Honestly, she should probably have him removed the armour for this, but they’re still in uncertain territory, and…on Voeld. Heat lamp or not, it’s fucking freezing.

“You underestimate the importance of the angaran Resistance leader presenting an alien with his back,” he says flatly.

“I kind of thought our relationship had moved beyond that. I’m applying medigel,” she warns, not wanting to surprise a guy who just announced she’s lucky to be helping him at all. “Come on, Evfra. What do I have to do to prove I’m not here to hurt you?” A beat. “Or - or the rest of the angara.”

“I trust your intentions.” He doesn’t move other than breathing as she applies the medigel, sort of…awkwardly poking it to cover the worst parts of the wound, working around the cracked armour. “I even trust your skill. And I trust that you will do everything in your power to keep your people safe. The same as I would.”

Sara’s hands still, pressed flat to his back. She can feel the faintest rise and fall of his torso and - and the smallest tremble running through his form. Not bioelectricity, something else. Your people. Her mind flashes to the Tempest first, of course, but the Initiative is hard on its heels. The angara are allies - close allies, and Sara thinks that Evfra knows she’d do her damnedest to keep them safe in almost any situation imaginable.


She draws in a gulp of icy air, the next best thing to just beating her head against the side of the Nomad. It would be nice, Sara thinks, if one thing in her life could be simple. Just one thing.

“So what does that make me?” she asks, immediately inserting her foot into her mouth instead. Classic Ryder. “Because last I checked, that hit was coming right for me.”

She watches helplessly as his shoulders stiffen, and then he’s twisting, unfolding until he towers over her. Sara remains cross-legged on the ground, eyeing her goop covered fingers and determinedly pretending like she hadn’t just insinuated she meant something to the head of the Resistance. Strategy, she expects him to say. Or, politics. The last thing I need to deal with is your people making a fuss about the death of the human Pathfinder.

Except it seems that Evfra is subject to the same sentiments as the rest of the angara when it comes it emotion, if in his own taciturn way. What she gets instead is a hand in her face, and a gruff - very gruff–

“You are important.”

There’s a hideous sort of intimacy to the admission, coming from a man who had so brusquely explained the death of his family to her.

“Oh,” she says unsteadily. He’s the injured one, but she allows him to pull her to her feet. She stumbles a little because she’s Sara Ryder, free hand flying up to steady herself against his chest. “Right.”

His eyes are really blue. Alien, and all too recognisable at the same time. He fails to let go of her hand, and she fails to move hers from his chest. That fine tremor, she notes dizzily, slowly eases out of him. Like he’s become more certain of something, in this breathless moment between them.

“Incoming!” Vetra calls, and the sound of gunfire snaps Sara right back into Pathfinder mode.

“Get down!” she barks at Evfra, reaching for for her shotgun and forgetting everything about who and what he is at the same time.

His lips peel back from his teeth in an expression that might be a smirk, or might be a snarl, and if there were less kett incoming, Sara might find either option kind of (very) interesting.

“You must be joking,” he says, shields flickering to life around his form.

Ugh,” Sara says back, summoning her biotics and Charging the enemy in lieu of dealing with him and the riot of feelings the man stirs in her.

It’s probably the first time in the history of Andromeda that anyone has ever been glad of the kett for a rescue.


My giveaway is back Saturday April 29 (Open)

I’m re doing my last two giveaways considering they didn’t work for me.
- I have 15 female Seviper, 15 male Zangoose, 15 male Lileep, and 15 male Anorith all at Lv1.
I’m sorry that my supply is short everyone. I’ll be making new posts if I run out of one of them so be sure to check that before getting mad or anything.
How to get them:
- put a meowth named NanuTrades up on the GTS
- Lv and gender lock your meowth for less a chance of being sniped!
- Messaged me your IGN, Lv and gender of deposited Meowth so I know you are in the GTS. I may not see you up on the GTS if you DO NOT MESSAGE ME!!!!!
- If it’s been 15-20 minutes and you still haven’t received your desired Pokemon from me please message me there was probably a problem.
- One of each Pokemon per person!!!!
If you have any questions or suggestions please feel free to let me know:)

- if you have a costume Pokemon from me and haven’t received it yet feel free to pick it up as well any time you want:)

This is Poddlewise and he hates water. Don’t be fooled by the way he splashes around in it; he’s actually in great distress. And the fact that he spends all day every day swimming? That’s because he’s training to take down the Tidelord, who he blames for all this water. Just listen to him complaining! Would any dragon who actually likes water give every dragon who’ll listen (and who won’t) this much grief about it? No. So therefore he doesn’t enjoy being wet, he doesn’t want to keep swimming and he definitely doesn’t think that water is a wonderful substance that feels nice on the scales and is home to brilliant creatures he could watch all day. Shut up.

Snipe #205777

anonymous asked:

Yahaba's little pink ribbon is goals

thank you, he appreciates it!! 

dont ask me why im posting shit out of order but i posted snippets of my 1920′s  au on @ask-seokjinnie and i might as well get this comic out of my system before my dumb ass forgets haha (also @saltyauntsuga wrote an impeccable drabble based on the au + these pics !!! its so gOOD BOI I DIE BLESS U BELS)
context: paperboy jungkook gets it On with Bangtan Sound’s fan favorite flapper/jazz soloist b4 he is promptly cockblocked by his detective friend seokjin