#and if anyone else wants me to tag their tracking as well lmk!

[byemambo]

And you? Do you want something from me? I want your instincts.

SMART CHISANUPONG AS JIN AND BOOM RAWEEWIT AS AKIN

Top Form (2025) | 1.01

gif request for anon! I hope you loved the opening sequence as much as I did <3

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 2

In which you spend the weekend in Miami as Max's personal guest.

Warnings: smut at the end ;) Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words (whoops) plus social media posts

Part 1 Master List

(a/n: holy shit you guys absoltely blew up part one (its sitting at 1.7k notes last time i checked in under 3 days??? like WHAT???) so here's the much requested part 2. LMK if you want a part 3! Also going to try something different with the tag list tonight, so bare with me as I figure this out!! xoxo)

You play with the hem of the cornflower blue sundress, nerves ratcheting up another notch when the car pulls into the race track. After you had wrapped up filming the podcast two weeks ago, Max had taken you out to one of his favorite London restaurants where you had spent the next nearly five hours talking about everything and nothing all at once. The only reason you had left was that the staff of the restaurant had started cleaning up around you, literally sweeping up under your feet and turning off the music as you had lingered over the last bits of your dessert together. 

The next day, Max had needed to go back to Milton Keynes to spend some time in the sim ahead of Miami weekend, unable to stay in London with you despite every bone in his body screaming that he didn’t want to leave you. It was weird, almost scary, to him how much space you took up in his thoughts so quickly. He didn’t usually get attached to anyone, much preferring to remain aloof and independent but in the two weeks that passed since he had seen you, he was unable (or unwilling, depending on who you asked, honestly) to think of anything else. The way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you seemed to hang on every word that came out of his mouth simply mesmerized him. 

So now, here you were, two weeks later, moments away from seeing him again. Because while Max was down bad and trying not to blow this, you were also completely smitten with the Dutch driver. You had spent hours editing the first and second part of his episode yourself, something you hadn’t done in years, because you insisted you wanted to keep the integrity of the interview under your total control. Your video editor had seen the way you spoke about Max and just nodded, knowing that there had been something that sparked between you and him and that there would be no arguing about it with you. 

Max is in the garage when he gets the text from you that you’re in the parking lot waiting for him. As luck would have it, he’s just finishing up with some engineering meetings so he’s got some free time. He replies instantly, telling you to wait in the car for him and he’ll be right there. 

“I’m running out for a bit, GP. I’ll be back before FP1.” 

“I mean, you’d better be. Who else is going to get in that car? Horner?” 

Max chuckles, clapping his racing engineer on the back before slipping out the back of the garage. 

Max’s heart stalls when he sees the car you're in, nerves suddenly twisting in his gut. You two had been texting back and forth constantly since he left London the morning after you met. Evenings had been spent on FaceTime together when you could manage, but with your busy schedules it hadn’t been enough for Max. The relief he felt knowing you were less than 100 feet away had him swaying on his feet a bit. 

You knew Max was coming to meet you at the car but it had been a long drive from the airport, so while you waited you decided to stretch your legs. Max watches helplessly from a distance as the rear door on the SUV swings open, your bare legs making his mouth go dry when you hop out out of the car. 

It’s almost as if you sense his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze caressing your bare skin like the touch of a well known lover. It takes you a moment to recover when your eyes lock with his, the look on his face practically a billboard for how excited he is to see you. A wide grin spreads across your face when he starts towards you, heart tumbling down through your toes as he jogs your way. 

“Hi.” He breathes, stopping just short of gathering you up in his arms like he truly wants to. Despite how close you’ve grown over the last two weeks, Max reminds himself that it truly only has been two weeks and he doesn’t want to come on too strong. 

You look up at him, eyes sparkling with delight at finally being in his presence again. “Hey you.” You croon, nearly unable to stop yourself from throwing yourself into his arms. 

This kind of behavior was as out of character for you as it was for Max. You’d been burned by men in your life that were supposed to be there for you, love you, and protect you and so those walls had been put in place high and strong for years now . Something about Max made you question those defenses, wondering if he was going to be the one to stick around long enough to tear them down. While you tried to remain calm, objective, and aloof it was utterly impossible to act that way when you were around him. 

“How was your flight?” Max stuffs his hands in the pockets of his shorts, nerves turning the tips of his ears pink. He wants you in his arms so badly but didn’t want to push you away, didn’t want you thinking he had only brought you out to Miami this weekend for one thing. Because he hadn’t. He had simply wanted you by his side. 

“Well I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to fly commercial ever again, so I’ll be sending you the bill for all my private flights from now on.” You wink.

“You can use my jet whenever you want, schatje.” 

Your stomach does the same involuntary flip it does whenever he calls you that. At first it had been timid, slipped in at the end of a sentence almost like it was an afterthought or unconscious desire to claim you but as time goes on, Max settles into calling you either that or liefje more often than not. 

“Don’t tempt me.” You grin up at him, knowing that he fully means what he says. He’d absolutely let you use his jet whenever you wanted, all you had to do was ask. 

“So, your timing is really good.” Max nearly reaches for your hand but chickens out at the last minute, settling for just walking you back towards the car that sits idling behind you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I actually have an hour and a half break before I have to be back for the first practice session so I thought I could take you over to the hotel, get you settled in. I booked you your own room, of course and thought you’d maybe like to take a shower or a nap during the first session and then I could have an intern get you so you can watch the sprint quali later this afternoon.” 

Your heart warms at the earnest look on Max’s face. The fact that he’s gone ahead and thought all of this through for you, clearly wanting to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of all while you’re sure he’s overwhelmed with work, softens those well built walls arond your heart a bit more. 

“A shower and a nap does sound good.” 

Max smiles down at you, those blue eyes of his taking in every inch of your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory. “Good. Lets get you to the hotel then.” 

“Lead the way, Maxie.”  

yourpersonalinsta posted a story

story replies: user9029 girl drop the diet and workout routine plsss yourdad baby girl, i love you but put some clothes on >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too dad! maxverstappen1 are those my socks??? >>>yourpersonalinsta my feet got cold while you were gone playing with race cars. >>>maxverstappen1 i was literally working! and how'd you get into my room??? >>>yourpersonalinsta a lady never reveals her secrets, maxie ❤️ >>>maxverstappen1 i was right, you are trouble >>>yourpersonalinsta i prefer the phrase 'joy to be around'. pls hurry though back. i'm hungry and i may die of starvation in the next twenty minutes if you don't feed me. >>>maxverstappen1 do your fans know you're this dramatic??? >>>yourpersonalinsta why do you think they're my fans?

The rest of Friday blurs together in a watercolor wash of heat, and people, and sounds that you’re utterly exhausted by the time you tumble into your bed late at night.

Alone, thank you very much.

The wine that you had drank at dinner with Max and a few other drivers has heat pooling low in your belly as you watched Max watch you all night. You had wanted to invite him back to your room, but something kept those words from slipping out all night and Max had been the picture of respectable, simply dropping a kiss on your forehead before wishing you goodnight at your hotel room. 

Saturday’s sprint race is just as busy and loud as qualifying had been and by the time it’s over, you’re exhausted, hot, and sweaty. You’re over the moon when Max pulls off the win in the sprint, throwing your arms around his damp neck the moment you see him after his media duties are completed and he finds you waiting for him in front of Red Bull's hopsitality. 

“That was amazing Max. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. You make it all look so easy.” You gush.  

“It looks like you’re my lucky charm now, schatje. Won’t be able to win without you.” 

You smile, cheeks aching a bit at how much you’ve been doing that this weekend. You’ve fit in so well with everyone it’s almost spooky, like your presence was expected and welcomed in the garage, slotting into Max’s world with uncanny ease. 

As you follow Max back to his driver’s room that’s tucked away in the back of hospitality, his hand reaches for yours almost unconsciously. When his fingers twine with yours, the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach this week take flight yet again. If this is how you react when he reaches for you, you can’t imagine how you’re going to handle when he finally kisses you properly. 

The hallway is quiet and long, with Max’s room at the end of the corridor. You’re only about half way there when a sudden wave of nausea washes over you, stopping you in your tracks. “Woah.” You whisper, free arm bracing against the wall for support. 

Max turns to you in an instant, his handsome features a mask of concern. “You okay?” 

You blink a few times, trying hard to fight the impending fainting spell you can feel yourself hurtling towards. “I..ummm…I think so?” 

Max all but picks you up in his arms, ushering you the short distance that separates you from his drivers room. “Lets get you sitting down. Have you eaten today?” 

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “Not since breakfast.” 

Max frowns, “That was hours ago, liefje.” 

The room is small with just enough room for a couch, massage table, and closet but it does the job, serving as a quiet respite from the mayhem of the paddock. Max gently leads you over to the navy blue couch. “Sit. I’m going to get you some water and food. The heat in Florida is no joke.” 

You nod, already feeling a little better now that you’re sitting down. Max is gone for several minutes but comes back absolutely laden down with so much food, you can’t help but laugh. “Max, I don’t know who you think I am but I am not a 300 pound body builder.” You say though your giggles. 

Max looks a little embarrassed but just tuts at you, placing the plates (of which there are three) down on the table in front of you. “I didn’t know what you liked. You had fish at dinner last night, much to Lando’s dismay, but they’re cooking salmon tomorrow, even though I asked for some today for you.” 

The way your chest squeezes at his ramblings has nothing to do with the headache that’s forming between your eyes and everything to do with the man sitting next to you practically spoon-feeding you a roasted beet and goat cheese salad. You obediently open your mouth when he lifts the fork to your lips, only rolling your eyes a bit at his fussing. “I am an adult, Verstappen. I can feed myself.” You grumble between bites. 

“I know but just humor me.” 

You roll your eyes again but open your mouth, the beet and goat cheese salad actually tasting really good. 

“Good girl.” He coos, setting your thighs squeezing together on their own accord. 

Your eyes flicker up to his at the praise and something passes between you two, a little spark of heat igniting there in the small room. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper after a few more bites, tension hanging thick between you as you're tucked up together on the small couch. 

“Don’t be.” He insists, pushing a bottle of icy cold water into your hands. “I’m just glad I was here to take care of you.” 

“Me too.” You breathe, acutely aware to how close his body is to yours.

The urge to kiss you overwhelms Max, and it's not the first time this weekend this has happened. He’s been fighting the ever strengthening desire to just sweep you up and haul you back to his hotel room since you first stepped out of the Range Rover yesterday afternoon. Truthfully, he’d been wondering what you taste like ever since he’d walked into that recording studio in London.

He couldn’t explain how or why but your sudden appearance in his life seemed like some cosmic shift under his feet, his entire existence adjusting to this new normal of being in your orbit. He’d spent the last two weeks listening to all five years of your podcasts, even finding some old work you’d done in college and with each episode he found himself falling further and further into a rabbit hole that he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to climb out of.

Max falls silent then and so do you, a comfortable quiet settling over the room. The spark that had ignited so innocently just minutes before begins to smolder into something that has the energy between you two shifting. Like the entire reason for you being here this weekend had led up to this very moment. 

You break the spell first, leaning in just a fraction closer to Max like he's is the magnet you’re elementally obligated to be attracted to. But Max is equally compelled in his desire to finally find out what you taste like so he closes the gap between your lips and his, mouth grazing yours with the slightest pressure. It starts out as a timid thing, unsure of if it should exist in such a charged atmosphere. Once it gains its footing though, the kiss lengthens and takes on a life of its own. 

You sigh into Max’s mouth like it’s a relief to finally have him kissing you. Max lifts the tips of his fingers to your chin so he can tilt your head upwards, allowing him to deepen the kiss to a more heated pace. Your fingers grip at his Red Bull polo, desperate for something to hold on to while the taste of Max races through your veins. 

Something akin to a purr rumbles in the back of your throat when Max’s hands sift through your hair and it grows a little hotter when he tugs on the ends, forcing your head back so the slender column of your neck is fully exposed to him. You try not to cry when his lips leave yours, unhappy with how you can’t taste him fully anymore, but that disappointment quickly evaporates when he trails open mouthed kisses towards the enticing hollow of your throat. 

“I’ve been wondering what you taste like since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Max murmurs against your heated skin. 

Your head spins at his words. So it hadn’t just been you that had felt the spark that first day. “Max.” His name is a reverent prayer on your lips, urging him to never stop touching you. 

Max thinks he could go the rest of his life without winning another race and he’d still die happy because he’d finally kissed you. “You drive me mad, liefje. I am utterly consumed by you and I have no idea how you slipped this far under my skin so quickly.” 

The words send shivers skittering down your spine and you find yourself leaning into his touch even more, heart hammering wildly against your ribcage. 

A sharp and sudden knock sends you leaping out of Max’s arms so quickly, you nearly fall to the floor. “Holy fuck.” You whisper, hand flying to your lips like they’ve been burned. 

“Christ.” Max breathes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah?” He calls, voice a strangled mess. 

“Uh…” The hesitation in the person’s voice told you that they knew they had interrupted something. “Max, Christian and GP wanted to go over a few more things before quali.” 

Max touches his forehead to yours, letting loose a breath to steady himself before he can answer. “I’ll be there in five.” He grumbles and you can hear the shuffle of feet retreating moments later. 

“You are going to ruin me, schatje.” Max murmurs, even though he has a feeling he was already ruined. 

You chuckle, rubbing your fingers over your swollen lips. You had never had a first kiss like that, ever. The way your body simply melted around Max like warm butter had your center turning molten. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You joke.

Max just shakes his head and chuckles before his face pulls serious again. 

“How are you feeling? Do you want to stay here and rest or come with me to the garage? I could have an intern take you back to the hotel?” Max lifts his hand so it frames your face, concern flickering across his features. Your chest constricts in the most delicious way when he pulls your hands into his lap. 

“I’m good. I think your kisses may have healing properties actually.” You flirt, gazing at Max from under long lashes. “If I’m not too in the way, I’d like to stay with you.” 

It crosses your mind then, a quick rabbit of a thought, darting across your consciousness that you’ve been so independent for so long, so bent on not relying on anyone for security or safety, only to have the entire rug of your resistantance ripped out from under you. It’s a gooey and warm feeling that you hope isn’t just a flash in the pan, although your gut tells you Max is the real deal. 

You hadn’t given yourself this freely to anyone in so long, panic grips at your throat for a moment, the desperate need to flee suddenly choking you. Just when the panic of what’s transpiring here threatens to pull you under, Max’s cool blue eyes yank you back to him where you belong. 

“I think I’m going to like having you by my side.” His breath fans out over your cheeks, pulling you further out of your tumble.

Max stands, sensing something shifting deep within you then. He saw something pass behind your eyes just then, the delicate shiver of hesitation. He’d been expecting it. No one who was as strong as you were got that way without having a story to tell. He knew that and had known this moment would come. What he hadn’t expected was to watch you pull yourself back from that precipice of panic. It had been a stunning thing to watch, even if the act was nothing more than a fleeting moment. But the way he watched you catch yourself spinning and knit yourself back together without so much as a whisper of a breath made him want to shield you from whatever had caused you the heartache to begin with. 

He holds his hand out to you, which you gladly take, and leads you towards the door while knotting his fingers up with yours. The nerves in your stomach settle with his touch and it sort of scares you, how well this man can read you so soon. This had been the last thing you had ever thought would happen when the man you were falling for walked into your life just 2 weeks ago. 

yourpersonalinsta posted

198,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbull racing, and others yourpersonalinsta omg miami if this is how you introduce yourself to a girl, i can't wait to see how the first date goes! super proud of @/maxverstappen1 for winning the spring race today. next up: quali. user992 girl is auditioning to be the next WAG in the paddock >>>user020 seriously thirsting for nothing but clout this weekend maxverstappen1 told you you'd bring me extra luck this weekend >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ >>>user0093 oh this is interesting user9392 the fact that she was such a genuine fan of the sport before and now she's AT her first race as Max's guest all because of her podcast. i just... >>>user223 now i'm crying, thanks. redbullracing so fun having you in the garage today! excited for sunday! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for having me!

There was just something so enticingly attractive about watching Max race on Sunday that had you feeling embarrassingly needy for him by the time he got you back to his hotel room that night. As you had watched him on the podium that afternoon, you just knew how messy you’d be below him later that night.

“I think your performance this weekend has earned you a reward.” Your rasp, voice a husky whisper in his ear as you glue yourself to him in the elevator that evening.

Max cocks an eyebrow at you while his fingers grip at your hips. “Oh yeah? And what would that be, lifeje?”

“Why don’t you take me back to your room and let me show you.” You lick at his neck, savoring the taste of sweat and champagne that clings to him despite his shower at the track earlier.

Max’s groan is enough of an answer and when the elevator slows, signaling your arrival at his floor, you follow him out into the quiet hallway, giggling when he playfully grabs a handful of your ass.

You had tried to convince yourself the entire drive back to the hotel that this wasn’t how the night was going to end. It was too soon, you thought. This was the first weekend you had spent any time with him and you didn’t want Max to get the wrong idea about you. And then he had spent the entire drive back to the hotel with one hand inching higher and higher up on your bare thigh. His thick fingers traced random patterns on your tanned skin, until the very tips had slipped just under the hem of your dress and all thoughts had eddied right out of your head.

Max, meanwhile, had been thinking of this moment since the second he had climbed out of the car. He didn't want to push you but the need to learn how you sounded when he was buried deep inside you was was out of control.

The moment the door snicks closed behind you, you're shoving Max against the wall, utterly desperate to get your mouth on him. Sinking to your knees in front of him, hands trailing down his torso. Your fingers drag over the skin just above the waistband of his jeans, long nails sending a shudder down Max's spine.

"Let me taste you, Max." You moan, reaching for the buckle of his belt.

"Please." He begs as he sinks his hands deep into your hair.

You have to stifle a gasp when you free his thick cock from his boxers, pushing the soft cotton down to his ankles along with his jeans. He's already desperatly hard, dick all red and angry with arousal, practically begging you to take it in your mouth.

Max can hardly believe the sight before him. You down on your knees for him, lips mere millimeters from his raging hard-on, was probably the prettiest sight he'd seen in a long time. When you first wrap your lips around the tip, tongue darting out to taste the salty precum that he's already leaking, it takes every ounce of control Max has to not sink deep down your throat.

"Holy fuck, baby." He shudders, fingers gripping your hair even tighter. Max would be lying if he said he hadn't played out this exact scenario several times over the past two weeks, only it had been his own hand fisting his cock instead of your lips.

All you do is hum in response, the vibration of your voice sending sharp new shivers bolting down Max's spine. One hand snakes up his toned thighs, enjoying the thick muscles bunching and flexing as you take him deeper down your throat. Your other hand, however, trails down your own thighs, dipping below the hem of your dress to find your own already ruined panties wet with the arousal Max has already drawn from you.

"You like touching yourslef while you suck me off, pretty girl?" Max's voice is all gravel as his hips snap towards you, forcing you to take him even deeper into your mouth.

You look up at him, eyes watering, thick lashes matted with tears and smile the best you can with your lips wrapped around him. You continue your work, head bobbing up and down on his length, enjoying the way his dick is slick with your saliva, a bit of it dripping down your chin as you take him even deeper. You swear you could spend the rest of the night down on your knees with how good Max feels and tastes in your mouth, your own fingers buried deep inside you. The release you've been wanting all week starts to build and Max begins to feel it too.

Max knows he's not going to last much longer and he doesn't want to come quite yet. Gently he pulls you off, chuckling at the mewl of protest that slips past your lips when he pushes you off of him.

"Max." You whine, wanting nothing more than to swallow his release down your throat.

"Get on the bed, lifeje." He orders.

You scramble to your feet, disappointment at not making him come with your mouth quickly replaced with the anticipation of what you know is coming next. You've tried so hard to resist the fact that you've wanted this since the moment you saw him Friday afternoon but as you lay down on the bed and watch Max stalk towards you like a lion after his prey, all reservations evaporate into thin air. You know deep within your chest that this is what's supposed to happen right now.

"Dress off." He commands and the thrill of being ordered around flashes through you.

You follow his directions before laying back on the pillow, watching as Max reaches behind him back to strip off the sweaty team kit you hadn't bothered taking off before sucking his dick. A sudden wave of vulnerability sweeps over you as Max stands at the foot of the bed, eyes raking over your bare frame.

"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on." Max murmurs, sensing your hesitation at being so vulnerable in front of him. He doesn't want you to be nervous, needing you to know how utterly obsessed he is with you. It staggers him when he thinks about how deeply you've dug yourself under his skin in such a short time. You've barely spent longer than a few days together and he's already so deeply lost in you.

"Do something, Maxie." You beg, squirming under his heated stare.

His weight is heavy and delicious when he finally covers your body with his, notching his cock just outside your dripping core. Max reaches down, letting out a heated moan when he feels how wet you are for him. "You are soaked for me, gorgeous girl. God, how did I get so lucky? Have you been like this all fucking day, schatje?"

"Been desperate for you all fucking day, Max." You breath, your hips lifting up off the bed in a needy search for the friction you crave.

"Lets see if we can get you some relief, yeah baby?"

When Max sinks into you for the first time, you can't help the desperately needy whine that escapes from your mouth. His name is a prayer on your lips, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. The stretch of his cock burns in the most delicious way. "So full." You cry as Max's hips meet yours when he slides into you completely.

Max doesn't quite understand how you're so blissfully tight and wet and warm all at the same time but he thinks it's the best feeling he's ever experienced. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he buries himself in you to the hilt, the base of his dick grinding against your clit. "Fuck, you're to tight around me baby. How do you feel this fucking good?"

You and Max fall into a rhythm, the only sound in the room are the quieted sighs slipping their way from your lips before Max can steal them from your throat. The friction is amazing and before he can quell it, Max feel the lick of fire coiling at the base of his spine, telltale sign that he's about to spill. “Won’t last much longer.” He pants, lips falling to suck at the skin at your neck. 

Max struggles to keep the pace up, diving into you with long, slow strokes that fill you up and empty you out over and over and over. Sweat forms on his brow that was tipped down in concentration and you have to resist the urge to lick it off. Every stroke deep into your pussy fills you up so fully it's almost too much. Too much sensation, too much heat, too much fullness. You can’t help the whines that slip from your lips but Max only encourages them by chanting your name over and over. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He coos in your ear as your muscles tense beneath him. “You’re doing so good for me, taking it all so good.” 

The praise is almost too much. “Don’t stop.” You beg when his fingers dip down between you to find your clit as he continues to stroke into you. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids. “Holy fuck. Max.” You manage to bite out.

“Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my dick, please baby.” Blinding need consumes Max's entire existence, his full attention focused on the way you clench around him over and over.  

That’s all it takes. The command sends you hurtling over the edge, right into a spine tingling orgasm. Your body goes rigid for a moment under Max's weight but as quick as it starts, a boneless languid feeling sweeps through you as the endorphins flood your system. Your own climax has pushed Max over he edge and he comes hard, groaning in your ear as he rasps your name. 

Max collapses on top of you and you relish the heavy weight of his body on yours. Much too soon, he rolls off and you whimper, instantly feeling empty without him inside you. Max gathers you up in his arms though, the heat of his body quickly warming your chilled skin. Your hand settles on his chest, right over his heart, which is still racing.

“Jesus Christ, shactje.” Max finally breaks the silence, giving my hip a squeeze as he nuzzles into my hair. “You really are going to ruin me.”

maxverstappen1 posted:

838,291 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1: another great weekend with a good haul of points! Thank you Miami, you were good to us. On to the next! user2992 uh, max? care to explain that second photo >>>user92928 is that who I think it is??? yourpersonalinsta had so much fun with you this weekend! can't wait for the next one >>>maxverstappen1 ❤️ >>>user0221 EXCUSE ME. user0022 i ran into them late Sunday night at the hotel and let me tell you...there's nothing PR about their chemistry together. >>>user9288 i fucking KNEW it user05543 anyone else see @/yourpersonalinsta's dad in the likes!?

yourpersonalinsta posted

231,209 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, charlesleclerc and others yourpersonalinsta after this weekend, i think i can consider myself officially a red bull girlie. blissfully excited i got to see a MV1 podium AND sprint win! thank you for letting me into your world @/maxverstappen1. can't wait til next time ❤️ maxverstappen1 gonna need you at every race now that you're my lucky charm. user9282 'thank you for letting me into your world' YOU EXPECT ME TO ACT NORMAL AFTER THAT CAPTION MA'AM??? >>>user7623 kicking my feet and giggling and i'm not even @/yourpersonalinsta omg redbullracing you're welcome in the garage any time!! >>>user9935 even admin has a crush! >>>maxverstappen1 @/user9935 i mean, how can you not??? >>>user9935 omg hi king. glad you know how amazing she is! don't hurt our girl, k??? >>>maxverstappen1 i would never ☺️ (liked by yourpersonalinsta)

maxverstappen1 private stories

story replies: yourpersonalinsta god i look good in navy >>>maxverstappen1 no more ferrari red for you, sweet girl >>>yourpersonalinsta miss you already 😢 >>>maxverstappen1 i know. i'll see you soon, promise >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ danielricciardo excuse me but WHAT THE FUCK >>>maxverstappen1 : 🤭 charlesleclerc oh she's got you using the lip biting emoji. it's over, pack it up boys. MV1 is officially off the market. >>>maxverstappen1 accurate though

@shelbyteller @martygraciesversion381 @anilovessadbooks @formulaal @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

[meikstv]

🎥 now playing - new old money 💴

🎬 and action!

inspired by @kaisaerinlover , lmk if you like my take 🎬

pairing: reo x fem rich!reader

new money reo x old money reader

warnings: unrequited, reader is very much oblivious and uninterested

imagine even richer reader who doesn’t want anything from this man and it aggravates him to no end

readers from olddddd money vanderbilt type old money (both families as well), never has to ask for anything, the word no doesn’t come from anyone but yourself

reo was born with a silver spoon in his mouth but yours was platinum

not impressed by material items, you could probably buy out any brand so you’re not impressed

everything in your wardrobe is name branded, you’ve been in designer since you came out the womb

your background isn’t well known, you only go by your first name

your family doesn’t really do media but your last name holds weight

if you didn’t dress so well people would never know you were from money and even then people think you’re from new money

you didn’t even mean to catch his attention, nagi mentioned you once and he finally looked in your direction (you were not looking in his)

even your meeting with nagi was accidental, he was walking out of a game shop with a brand new console (this man was not interested in their insurance policies, he just wanted to get his console then dip)

you bumped into him and he dropped it, mans was stunned when you took him back to the game store and brought him a new one with the cash in your wallet (insurance covered (you still had cash left over (nagi: :x, :o)))

reo tried perusing you, you were not interested like at all he finally managed to convince you to go on a date, you went to a fancy restaurant (his choice (you didn’t even know it was a date))

you didn’t even look at the prices, he assumed he had to pay the bill and his opinion on you was set

the only reason you didn’t argue about the bill is because he forced you to come out not the other way around (priorities)

he complained about it to anyone who would listen (you’d think this man was broke with the way he was crying), assumed you were only after his money (he thought)

he gave you another chance (you didn’t need it) because nagi convinced him you were chill

next date (again had no idea it was a date) he wanted to prove himself right

his plan was to take you to a high end shopping centre and complain about the prices so much you wouldn’t want to see him again (again he was the one bothering you, you were completely fine not going out again)

the shopping centre couldn’t put a dent in your account, even if you brought one of everything from each store, so again you didn’t look at tags just at what you thought was nice

you were both walking into an hermes store, reo rolled his eyes at your audacity

you were eyeing a bag that you wanted to get customised, you were about to ask a sales rep about your customisations

“i suppose you want me to buy that for you”

statement, not question

you side eyed him

“no, thank you”

boy is floored, and pissed because what do you mean no?

“really it’s no trouble”

“hmm, not what it sounded like”

now he’s annoyed, he knows you have some form of money how else would you have brought his friend a new console, but it couldn’t be that much surely

‘does she want to buy this and go?’

“are you sure you don’t want to have a look around before making a final decision?”

“no, thank you”

he’s confused he doesn’t understand why you’d agree to go out with him again if you were going to spend all your money on one thing (not him assuming you can only afford one thing)

‘maybe she wants to window shop?’

‘maybe she’s deceiving me, why else would she agree to come here?’

‘she’s just waiting for me to feel bad so i have to tap my card’

each theory frustrates him to no end, he’s ready to call baya to collect him from disaster date

he stops in his tracks when you pull out a centurion deluxe black card (imade up the deluxe part, reo technically is rich enough for a centurion card; ineeded a card to show you had more money than him)

jaw dropped

*side eye from you* “do you want something?”

you said it so casually he was almost offended, no he is offended even he only has a regular centurion card

but when he saw your name scrawled on the back, not a parents

he was pissed, even his parents don’t have enough assets to receive an invitation for a centurion deluxe

just how much were you worth (a lot)

“no… thank you” *eye twitch*

it continued like that through the day, you just picked things up not bothering to look at the tags it pissed him off to no end

“don’t your parent get notified when you spend over 20% of your balance?”

it was none of his business but he had to ask, he had to know

“hmm it’s 5% i think”

you pondered while flicking through some sweats you thought would suit your friend

“i’m not worried about that, i get a notification every time I go over 1%”

you continued to casually flick through the clothing rack like you hadn’t just altered the brain chemistry of the boy stood next to you

your phone was on loud, he knew that because you answered a message from your friend whilst baya was driving

you hadn’t had a single notification since he felt sick, you’d been into half the stores already and your purchases weren’t exactly cheap

his final straw was when you entered tiffany’s and brought out all the jewellery they had on display, he watched you phone

he waited, nothing, not one notification

“i think i’m ready to go”

“okay i’m ready whenever you are”

he was eerily silent the whole drive home, but he’s a gentleman he opens your car door and walks you to your porch

“hey y/n? what’s you’re last name?”

you look at him confused

“l/n…”

you walk into your term house (you only stay there during school time), pulling out your phone to call your white haired boyfriend

reo stands there for a moment actually taking in the outside of your home

‘a l/n!?’

walking back to his car he instructs baya to drive, it’s only as they’re driving down your driveway (he failed to notice on the way there) that he pulled out his phone

he had to know

“hey siri, what is the l/n’s net worth?”

*loading*

“the l/n family; made up of 3 generations, are estimated to be worth 665.6-

‘million, i knew it’

he slightly relaxed in his seat

“-trillion yen (4.6 trillion USD)”

reo’s eyes almost fell out of his head

(ithink vanderbilt would be worth around 665.6 trillion yen (4.6 trillion usd) in today’s currency, your family is worth that much but the older generation (grandparents) are still alive, they can afford that premium health care)

‘okay but they have 3 generations surely she’s can’t be worth that much, she has to have extended family as well right?’

“hey siri, what is y/n l/n’s net worth?”

*loading*

“y/n l/n; only heir of both f/n l/n and m/n m/m/n (mother’s maiden name)-“

‘m/m/n, m/m/n? doesn’t sound familiar’

‘come on there’s no way’

“is estimated to be worth 64.3 trillion yen (444.4 billion), until she is old enough to inherit-“

reo had heard enough, even his future inheritance wasn’t a drop in the ocean compared to your current worth

*cue reo throwing a tantrum in the back of his limousine*

*unbothered baya (they’re used to it)*

he’d never been out riched before and now he was determined to secure your favour, he needed to for his own ego

whole time you only went out with him to get to know your boyfriends best friend better

“baby, your friend is weird”

@meikstv | all rights reserved, please do not repost, translate, or claim as your own | dividers by @thecutestgrotto , @bernardsbendystraws & @sxmmerberries

love my purple haired diva 🫶🏾 but not more than my white haired sloth unfortunately 🥴 sorry reo lovers 😞

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT - 0 Months

So, before I get into things,I’ve been asked to keep this kinda diary/journal thing as a way of keeping track of my changes as I go through my transition to a slime, and eventually a shapeshifter, but I’m also going to share it here so that others can see what happens in a transition like this. I know others have done this before me, but I may as well contribute my own story in case it can be helpful to anyone like me.

With that aside: I fuckin’ got my new hormones!!!!

Or at least meds, I’m not entirely sure if they’re technically speaking hormones, but I’m liable to call them that since I’m used to terminology from hormone replacement therapy. 

After my blood test results came in, it took another couple of weeks for the prescription to be sent to me so that I could take it to the pharmacy in Hyper City and get my meds, but now all that’s done and I’ve got ‘em right here in front of me as I write this. Actually getting them was fairly uneventful, walk into the pharmacy, hand over prescription, get a remark about how ‘there’s a lot of people suddenly taking this kind of thing’ and leave home free.

As for the medications themselves there’s 3 parts to it for the moment: Fluidium, which is the basic gel-that-turns-you-into-a-slime (or the goo goo as I like to call it); Aquicin Arboricine which seems to be the pill for the sap part of my particular transition; and the antihominidone, the humanity blocker pill.

All together, these promise to turn me into the slime of my dreams, and from there I can achieve my true goal of being a shapeshifter. It’s not that I don’t want to be a slime, believe me the idea of getting to be a blob of goop sounds just amazing to me, but at the end of the day I’m a shapeshifter at heart, so that’s where my finish line is.

Anyways, I was looking at the information leaflets that came with each of them, and chuckling at some of the listed side effects: Dissolution of bones, loss of skin and organs, increased sugar content in body, loss of humanity. All of which would sound weird to horrifying if it was anywhere else, but here they were things I was looking forward to

Not much else to say here, mostly just a first entry to give some info on what this is going to be and let y’all know it’s happening, so I guess that’s it for now, and I’ll see y’all later!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

New version of the starting entry of slime HRT, shorter now due to the prior story (see link below) and more fitting with that. I'm also gonna link the original entry for 0 months, more for posterity than anything

First - Old Ver - Next

Tag list below cut (lmk if ya wanna be added)

@calliecwrites, @friedsputnik, @now-entering-the-goop-zone, @scrubbinn, @lilacinthefrog,

@mint-and-authoress, @losttodreams, @redroversendjayover, @ariathelamia, @kanithedemoncat

[softantlers]

heyyyyy anon riffing off of the emilia asks! i'm answering your ask below a cut just bc idk what to tag for physical abuse triggers yet. (if anyone wants to lmk on that if they have preferences, please do!) but yehyeh, i'll copy/paste your ask below!

Okay, okay, different anon here, but riffing off of Emilia slapping Lottie in a panicked moment. There were times pre-divorce when Lottie really struggled to control her emotional reactions, & Malcolm just... did not respond well. He never hit her, but he would yell and grab her by the arms hard enough to bruise and just... shake her a lot, thinking he could snap her out of it. And Emilia HATED it, hated how rough he was with her, & it was one of the factors that led to the divorce. So then, when Emilia slaps Lottie, she's just absolutely devastated that she did the same kind of thing she was trying to protect Lottie from. And for Lottie, she thought she wouldn't have to deal with that from her mom, thought that she would be SAFE, that her mom could finally have room to understand her. And it just becomes this gaping wound between them that doesn't get addressed, b/c Emilia feels so guilty & Lottie's trust has been broken

yeah, this honestly seems very par for the course and tbh believable to me wrt malcolm's general vibe. even as an older adult, he has no problem (at least in the flashback/memory hallucination scene) saying something particularly cutting to lottie without much thought. for whatever reason, he gives me a sort of bombastic vibe. like the type of person who would get very loud or at the extreme try to physically deescalate (and just make it worse/damaging), like you said. i think it's interesting that lottie says the plane is "pretty much his only form of parenting" because if we take this to mean following the divorce, then it sort of implies that malcolm's washed his hands of emilia/lottie. i think that could track with this hc, especially if there's this indignation over emilia leaving him or this defensiveness that he thought he was handling lottie's situation "correctly."

and fuck, yeah. you broke me a little with the slap being this breach of trust. (not in a bad way just in an ahhhh familiar way dskjfksfjk.) but yeah, this actually makes me think of the lottie/shauna beating scene in a way. i'm not trying to say that lottie experienced sustained physical abuse (like ofc all of this is hc based in dynamics that seem real enough with everything she goes through) bc i don't think the show really gives enough on that, but i will say wrt slap thing, she doesn't seem particularly surprised when shauna hits her. like if we contrast that with shauna hitting misty or with ben hitting misty earlier (sidebar: damn misty really just is getting backhanded, huh), there's a bit of shock and surprise in that. lottie takes the hit and doesn't seem too put off. it's almost like "yeah, this is how it is with me" or like a sort of... appreciation that "this is what hurting people do" that could loop back into this hc?? mmmm patterns of motherhood between emilia/shauna too (not sure how to articulate this thought).

i think what i'm trying to say is that it's making me do laps to consider emilia (a failed mother in a thematic sense) breaching lottie's trust by hitting her & then to have shauna as a more sympathetic parallel to that (someone who wanted to be a mother and wasn't allowed it) be someone lottie puts her trust in to physically hurt her. i don't know??? at the end of it all is this baseline feel of "i deserve this" though, which really weighs heavy with lottie's character. like with the emilia thing, it really only takes one bit of affirmation like that to make a "gaping wound" like you said. my mom hit me because i'm wrong. my mom hit me because i deserve it. maybe she held me and she was sad and she cried, but why else would she have done it? from her it makes it clearer than ever: i deserved it.

(also disclaimer generally -bc i always feel like i have to have one sdkfjkdjf- i like talking about abuse patterns because they're personally meaningful to me! never want to give the indication that i'm not holding the intensity of the subject. for sure, i am!)

[deathbyathousandspiders]

“ cuddle–bugs. „

(( request PART TWO )).

!!! read part one | part three | part four | part five here !!!

mcu!peter parker x reader.

IN WHICH — you fell asleep on your best friend’s shoulder during movie night and the avengers won’t let you live it down.

author’s note ; okay so i made this a winter/christmas fic on accident cause i miss it. you’re welcome:,) ALSO !! lmk if y’all want me to add you to the part 3 tag list;)

✨masterlist✨.

3.2k.

It’d been two nights, and you still couldn’t boggle the thought of Peter from your brain. Well, boggle the romantic thought of Peter from your brain. You had always been extra thoughtful and considerate of your best friend, but you never realized just how much you were until two nights ago. Two nights ago, when you had the best sleep of your life, passed out on Peter’s shoulder. Two nights ago, before Sam and Bucky started ogling you and Peter like no one’s business. Two nights ago, the last time you got a successful wink of sleep.

Shit.

Perhaps you were lying to yourself– No. You were definitely lying to yourself. Peter Parker was your best friend, but you knew that your feelings for him were far from that simple. You were the first one to notice when he entered a room, and the first to feel his absence when he’d leave. You knew him better than anyone else did; he was written in a language that you’d carefully taken the time to understand. You just hoped that he’d taken the time to understand you just the same way.

The thought was gnawing at you, feeding on the anxiety that had kept you up all night. There was no way you could act on this, nor express your thoughts to him. And there certainly was no damn fucking way in hell you could look him in the eyes while you tried to process your feelings.

As the sun rose, so did you. Seeing as you had barely slept an hour, starting your day as early as possible seemed like your best option — even if that meant peeling yourself from your bed at four in the morning.

Your breath visibly filled the passing air as you ran the outdoor track in the courtyard. Winter’s chill was spiteful at such an early hour, but it was just the medicine you needed to give you energy after an all–nighter. The wind welcomed you with a sharp bite along your exposed skin, which was mainly your cheeks whilst you ran. Steve had taught you a thing or two about going on runs, and covering up in the winter was one of them.

The day went on tediously; constantly training, working on paperwork, and avoiding the company of Peter Parker. The latter was the most difficult. He was your best friend for crying out loud. You still couldn’t shake your nerves, or stomach the embarrassment that your teammates would cause you from their teases. There were already too many close calls.

While you were practicing close–hand combat in the gym, Bucky approached you. At first, he criticized your form and shadowed you for critique, but after a few minutes of ice breaking, he was quick to give some snickers and googly–eyes.

“Hang on there, cowboy.” He started, right hand hovering just beside your wrist. “You need to hold your shoulders back so that your punch gives a harder blow..” That’s when the devious smirk shadowed his face. “Unless, you’re planning to tussle with your boyfriend.”

The sharp breath you exhaled in response was a lot more intense than you’d initially intended. “He’s not my boyfriend!” The tone of voice you gave was also more intense than you intended, especially as you unconsciously gritted your teeth. And gathered from the way Bucky’s eyes widened at your punch, you took it that the impact was, once again, more intense than you’d intended.

You blamed the sleep depravity.

Later on, post–shower, you went to the kitchen to grab your second energy drink of the day. You felt your shoulders ease and your eyelids grow a bit heavier as you popped the metal can open. The quiet simmer of the carbonation was melodic whilst you downed half the serving, on spot. You were so focused on obtaining the beverage that you nearly missed Natasha looming in the corner.

“Cute sweatshirt.” She chimed, arms crossed while she watched you from the furthest crevasse of the kitchen.

Eying her, you could see the silhouette of her smirk. It immediately sent you questioning why she looked at you so smug. Your gaze fell to which baggy sweatshirt you decided to wear, suddenly insecure about it. It was a Midtown marching band hoodie; royal blue, faded–vintage yellow writings. It took you a beat or two to remember where you got it, but when you did–

“Is it your boyfriend’s?”

Shit.

Frustration bubbled through your system. Except, it wasn’t frustration towards the team. It was frustration towards yourself. How much of a coward did you have to be to act so nervous? To not be able to look Peter in the eye? To avoid any entertainment of the thought of the two of you together?

Well, if ignoring those thoughts made you a coward, perhaps you weren’t the biggest one. Most nights, when you couldn’t sleep, you used the image of his torso spooning yours to get you some peace of mind. The warmth of his arm hugging your waist, the slight tickle of his breath on the back of your neck, and the safety of his little kisses hidden in your hairline. In fact, you thought about it most times; however, last night, thinking about it made you feel unbelievably guilty.

You found that guilt and sleep don’t mix too well.

Hours later, you sat yourself in the meeting room, hacking away as best as you could at your training reports for the day. The task was stupid, but you were understanding of it. It just didn’t help that you felt the weight of only sleeping an hour creeping up on you. Your eyes felt like they carried a thousand pounds to them.

A gentle knock met the doorframe, catching your attention from your assignment. Your eyes met Wanda’s, curiously. The curiosity fled your expression the split second she opened her mouth.

“Peter’s looking for you. Should I tell him–”

Annoyance scrunched in your nose, and an anguished huff pushed itself out of your throat. Your elbows met the table quietly, hands rushing to cradle your face in it as you tried to keep your composure. “He’s not my boyfriend!” You cried.

Still, Wanda held patience to herself. Now she was the one who looked at you curiously, arching a brow as she noticed how troubled you were. You already knew she was reading you like a book with her telepathy. Wanda had already flipped through your thoughts front and back by the time you’d finished your response. “I know. He’s your best friend, and he’s looking for you.” Her voice was so gentle, you wanted it to swaddle you and lull you to sleep.

Just before she took her leave, Wanda kept a sympathetic smile on her face. She’d already started to step out of sight, but she had a closing thought. “And, y’know.. I felt the same way you do now with Vis.” She hummed, “The only way to relieve yourself from it is to talk to him.”

Which brought you here. Now. At eleven twenty–three in the evening. You sat yourself on the same couch that started this spiral, chipping away tirelessly at the paperwork you vowed to finish. Though, your progress consisted of staring at the document blankly. You were closer to passing out than you were to actually typing out a sentence.

“You should get some sleep.”

The second you met Peter’s eyes, you felt it immediately. That zing. That spark. The knot in your stomach that guilted you for avoiding him all day. You couldn’t even muster out a response to give to him. Part of that definitely had to do with the fact that he was in his pajamas; flannel pajama pants, and no shirt. It wasn’t the first time you saw him shirtless, though the sight of his abs, especially right now, took your breath away a little.

His palms pressed against the head of the chair, leaning on it as he rocked back and forth on his feet. His brows slowly knit together the longer it took you to reply, obviously worried about you. “Are you not speaking to me? Did I do something?” The second question was quick to follow the first.

Your expression mirrored his, though with less worry and more defense. “What? No.” You stated, shutting your laptop without breaking eye contact. “Why would you think you did something wrong?” It churned your tummy to think that he’d been overthinking about this all day. Then again, if you were in his shoes, you’d have been thinking the exact same things.

It wasn’t hard to notice the relief that settled his posture, or the hesitance that lingered in his stare. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe you, it was more that he wasn’t sure he could yet. “Because this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to me since fifth grade.”

The urge to roll your eyes at him was strong, but the smile you had to fight off was more distracting. “Peter, I didn’t speak to you because I had laryngitis. I literally couldn’t!”

He smiled back at you, gesturing his hand towards you to emphasize his point. “Exactly!” Peter made his way around the chair, seating himself beside you on the couch. “I just got worried.” He made sure there was enough space between the two of you, nervous that you’d be upset if he sat too close. “Are you okay though? You look like you didn’t get any sleep.” And suddenly, you were reminded that you couldn’t hide from him like you wanted to.

You nearly forgot that Peter was your best friend. He studied you before you even had the chance to notice he was in the room, half the time. Wanda’s words bounced around in your brain, but the idea of communicating all of that right now made your stomach churn worse. Slowly shaking your head, you moved to set your laptop on the coffee table beside you, quick to turn your attention back to the boy beside you. “I, uh.. I’m just stressed, is all.” You shrugged, simplifying your emotions.

Peter’s stare narrowed at you, concerned. “Stressed about what?” Once again, his eyes scanned over your face, trying to find the answer he was looking for before you felt the need to say it. When he found how panic it brought you, he stopped. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

It felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders at how understanding Peter was. You smiled lightly at him, focus flickering between one of his eyes to the other. Maybe it was because a smile began to touch his lips too, or because you felt unbelievably seen by him, but your heart swelled more than it ever had before. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.” You answered, honestly. “I should get some sleep first. I’m just…”

As you trailed off, Peter picked up the sentence where you couldn’t finish it. “Nervous about sleep?” His voice got softer as he asked the question, smile growing when you nodded in agreement. He waited a moment, brewing a few different solutions in his head. “Can I help?”

You could feel the way your heart raced at Peter’s earnesty, happily realizing you couldn’t turn down the offer. Nodding, you eyed him closely, watching as he grinned at you. He grabbed a throw blanket from beneath the coffee table, and the remote for the flat–screen while he was at it. Peter turned the television on and sat back on the couch, extending his arm for you to lean on him.

“You sure you want me to cuddle with you? You’re shirtless.” You pointed out, verbally self–sabotaging yourself. Idiotically self–sabotaging yourself.

Peter raised a brow at you, laughing quietly. Though, there was a slight blush creeping along his cheekbones. “That hasn’t stopped you in the past.”

A small fit of laughter drove your decision as you laid yourself beside him; head cozy in his shoulder, and your body pressed against the side of his. He laid the blanket over the two of you, but the arm he had hugging around you was the most securing. His fingertips gently brushed tiny shapes into your forearm, and Peter knew exactly which movie to put on to whisk you off to slumber.

Watching your comfort movie was quite a tempting offer, but you still couldn’t stop your eyes from shutting. Peace overtook you before you could catch it, and you couldn’t exactly remember the moment sleep finally conquered you. The last thing you remember hearing was Peter’s faint whisper to ask FRIDAY to dim the lights.

Peter watched you sleep more than the movie. He couldn’t stop himself, seeing how cute you were. He found himself in the same spot he was just two nights ago; gently rubbing your shoulders and back, brushing the hair back that fell into your face, and listening to the stilling sound of your breath as it slowed with your slumber. It made his heart swell.

The second he knew you were passed out, he stealthily turned the television off and scooped you into his arms. Peter lifted you delicately, swaddling you in the blanket and carrying you off to your bedroom.

As he laid you down on your bed, a particular piece of room decor caught his eye; the newest addition, something he’d never seen before. His cheeks grew ablaze with pink at the framed photo on your nightstand, taking in every aspect of the picture. His heart raced, a dorky grin touching his lips when he finally read Sam’s sticky note.

Peter was pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of your gentle fingertips grasping his arm. He heard the sheets settle beneath your stirring, and the soft grumbles sifting through your lips. Feeling your hand grasp at his elbow and tug him towards you made his heart skip a beat. The hug you pulled him into was all he needed to know that you wanted him to stay. And that, he did.

He lost track of how long he’d slept for, or when you decided to get up without waking him, but he wasn’t mad about it. Peter had one of the best sleeps of his life, and he had you to thank for that. He had you to thank for everything

Peter had never woken up feeling so rejuvenated. He felt like a brand new person; alive, ravished, loved. He felt validated by Sam’s little sticky note, and finally connected the pieces on why you were so jittery around him. He’d seen you interact with a handful of people you’d found attractive, and now he understood that he was also in that category. At least, if his assumptions were correct. He at least had woken up with a fresh coat of confidence today to make him believe his assumptions.

It was routine for his thoughts to drift somewhere in the midst of you. Every sense of him found you intoxicating and now more than ever did he cherish it. He inhaled the lingering aroma of you left over from your sleeping figure, and grew a smile at the sound of your laughter that carried itself through the compound’s corridors. The same laugh that he’d heard all too often.

Wait.

You usually only laughed that hard at his jokes.

Peter slowed his slippered–steps toward the kitchen, peering his focus to where the sweet sound came from. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight of you so happy, but immediately dropped to the floor when he saw you so happy with a guy. A vaguely familiar guy. A strikingly too attractive guy. It sent a sharp chill through his bloodstream and made it boil beneath his skin.

“A little birdy told me that Harley’s been meaning to ask them out before he leaves.” Sam’s voice cut through the quiet, though he made a means that the information didn’t leave the kitchen. His voice stayed soft, secretive.

Harley. Harley Keener. That’s why his name was so familiar. The Harley Keener: Tony Stark’s protégé intern, who’s attending Stanford for mechanical engineering, and skyrocketing as one of the most influential teenagers of this generation for his work on climate change. Peter recalled the six three articles he’d read just last week on Harley’s work. What was he doing here? And what the fuck was he doing here talking to you?

Peter’s focus remained stuck on the sight of you and Harley talking down the hall. The second his gears finally processed what Sam had told him, he turned his head to look over, eyes landing last on Sam by the espresso machine. “What do you mean?”

Sam shrugged lightly, his lips pressing into a line as he stirred the sugar in with his coffee. “I heard that while he’s here on break, he’s planning to ask Y/N out.” He let the sentence fall from his mouth with a sigh, disappointment tracing the sound of his voice. “Sources say, he’s planning to pop the question before Hanukkah starts.”

It hit him like bricks, the urgency. The punch to the gut. The confidence Peter had woken up with withered somewhere he couldn’t grasp anymore. He glanced out of the windows behind him, watching the snowfall cover the courtyard. Hanukkah was in four days. Peter still had some time, but would it be enough?

“Wait.” He started, turning his attention back to Sam. “What source?” Peter walked into the kitchen, placing his hands on his bare hips. He was still in his pajamas, messy hair and shirtless torso. His outfit merely consisted of flannel pajama pants and dinosaur slippers. “Were you using your mini drone to eavesdrop again?”

Sam chuckled, trying hard to act like he wasn’t offended. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t call Redwing that.” He acted like his remote control helicopter actually had a name. “But no. My source’s name happens to rhyme with boney shark.”

Shit.

If Tony really said that, it meant that Harley was actually serious about this. The Avengers were definitely prone to tease, but they were far from the crowd who’d start rumors. The bitter taste of jealousy weighed on Peter’s tongue, and he could already feel the sickening aftertaste caking in the back of his throat. He swallowed, thicker than he had in what felt like a decade. It felt like he had forced down an entire jar of peanut butter.

Sam saw the way Peter froze in his tracks. He walked over, steps slow to prevent spilling any of his precious latte from its mug. He gently placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, turning his attention to where Peter’s naturally gravitated back to; the way you and Harley interacted definitely seemed intimidating, but Sam wasn’t going to let Peter give up that easily.

“Another little birdy told me that boney shark hopes you beat him to it.” Sam’s voice suddenly got smoother, lower, as though his words had a deeper meaning. And to Peter, they did. The boy seemed to lighten up, processing Sam’s words like they were prophetic. “And that birdy’s name rhymes with shmaptain shmerica.”

Sam took that as his cue to leave, knowing that he said what he needed to. Quite frankly, he said more than enough to shake Peter out of his doubtful thoughts. There was no way in hell that Sam Wilson was a liar, which only added to how true the statement was.

If Steve–liberty–and–justice–for–all–Rogers was in on this, that meant something truly powerful. It meant that his team was rooting for him. Knowing that may not have given Peter’s confidence back to him, but it gave him something even more important. Something that grounded him back to the present unlike anything else, and something that he’d never take for granted:

Hope.

[dinsdjrn]

everything i wanted | j. miller | track three

track two | track four || series masterlist | main masterlist

bodyguard!joel AU

au!joel x singer!f!reader

summary: oh you kissed me, just to kiss me, not to take me home. it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know. someone to kiss you was easy, someone to love you was complicated. [w.c: 4.1k]

tags for the chapter: please see series masterlist for series warnings. 18+, smut, anxiety, secret relationship, scars, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, dirty talking, praising, lmk if i missed things

a/n: for my love @thetriumphantpanda who listens to me ramble when i worry no one else will want to hear it. thank you ❤️ i'm really proud of this one... i hope you love it too.

track three - we'll never have sex

The next few weeks you found yourself completely lost in Joel. You questioned his motivations and considered your own. The days he was working he would steal a kiss when no one was looking or involve you in a heated make-out session once safe from prying eyes. It never went any further though, he was content just kissing you. You never really talked about what this meant for you either, perhaps you were both scared the glass wall would break. 

You won’t lie saying you didn’t think about Joel when you were alone at night, how you would take care of one another, but he was a breath of fresh air. You had had your fair share of lovers; most of which would sweet talk you until they had their way with you, then leave you in the dust. Joel was different though, he didn’t rush things. 

You knew when he kissed you he needed it as much as you did. It wasn’t a ploy to get you underneath him, it was more than just a kiss, it was a promise. 

You had taken a small break from recording when another note appeared at your recording studio this time. Its arrival just days after Joel informed you that they were worried it was a once off threat. This note reignited the search for this crazed fan.  

You still hadn't told anyone about the unknown number messages coming through. You hadn't had one come in since the first night you kissed Joel. You prodded him to see what the note had said that arrived at the studio, but he wouldn't budge. It was frustrating not knowing, when the texts had been almost daily for three weeks and now you were met with radio silence. It set you on edge.

You needed this break from recording desperately.

You had spent the time writing mostly, a piece for Joel you wanted to be just right. When you were writing, you had connected with friends, and had even spent an evening with Joel and Ellie. It was just a once off, you had asked Joel if she would be interested in a movie night with you. You felt guilty taking so much of his time away from her. Joel was hesitant but agreed in the end, it ended up being one of the best nights you’ve had in a long time. 

Today was your first day back in the studio since the note. You had a few things you wanted to work on before the day was through. Will and Joel were going to be switching off at lunch today and you knew you wanted Joel to be the first to hear what you had written on your ‘break’ so to speak. 

You spent the morning mixing and producing the two songs that had been accepted by the label. They were turning out really well and had the exact vibe you were going for, it was melancholy but still truthful to your lived experience. 

Your honesty was the reason your fans connected with you. People frequently shared their deep connection to your music and it was what kept you going.

You sat and listened to the songs on repeat to make sure they were exactly as you wanted them. When you got into this headspace you could feel mothers glaring looks and indifference, trying to dissect the song for how she would see it. Find all the weaknesses and improve them. Everyone else had gone to lunch, Will had gone to switch with Joel and you were sitting there obsessing over every detail. 

When Joel came into the room it took your breath away. You hadn’t realized how much he calmed you down until he was standing in the room with you. He made you feel as if both your feet were firmly planted on the earth and your mind slowed down. 

He was in a black t-shirt and jeans, as he always was but the way it hugged his form made him look so dangerous. Just looking at him you felt the heat between your legs begin to pool and your blood pressure increase in the best way. 

“How are you doin’ today babe?” He asked innocently, just you and him in the room. 

“Mm, better now that you’re here,” you smiled. 

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking. You melted again. 

He quickly came over to you leaving a chaste kiss on your lips before retreating to the back wall. It was risky to kiss you here, but you were both desperate to feel one another again. 

Your producer returned shortly after your secret reunion with Joel. 

“So, how do we feel about solidifying another track today?” He asked, smiling at you. 

“I think I have something for you,” You smiled. 

“Great!” He clapped. “Do you have instrumentals you want to record first? Or would you rather workshop it and see what happens?” 

Time away was good for both of you as a team. You hadn’t realized how frustrated he was with everything until you had come back today. He seemed in better spirits than he had in weeks. 

“I actually think I might have a one take for you my friend,” you smiled. You reached for your guitar and made your way into the booth. 

“Okay, take one, let’s hear it,” Your producer's voice came through the speaker. 

You slowly began strumming the guitar. 

“Depollute me, pretty baby,” You started to sing. 

Joel was leaning against the back wall, but shifted as you continued to sing the song. He was looking directly at you and rubbing his chin, so desperately wanting to pick your brain for understanding. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to for hours. 

You came to the last line of the song, looking past your producer directly at Joel. The tension between you was thick and palpable, but secretive all the same. 

“Come and kiss me, pretty baby, like we’ll never have sex.” You finished. 

You put the guitar down on the stand and removed your headset. 

“Perfect! Just absolutely perfect,” your producer's voice rang from above you. 

You exited the booth to discuss the song further and do a bit of mixing to level the sound, but the one take was all you needed. 

One take and the undisclosed muse to get the perfect cut. 

It was getting quite late by the time you had left the studio, the car ride back to your apartment was quiet between you and Joel. This wasn’t uncharacteristic for you, except he had a grip on his knee that was rather impressive. You swore his knuckles had started to go white. 

When you arrived home, you were finally left to be alone with Joel. Something was off with him though, he was still so quiet. His eyes were trained on you as you rummaged through the kitchen for something to eat. You shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do in this situation. You felt as if Joel was mad at you but you didn’t know how to bring it up to him really. 

“So,” you started. 

He grunted in response. 

“Did you like the song?” You asked innocently. 

You were met with more silence from him. Anxiety festered in the pit of your stomach, you wanted him to like the song but this reaction spoke otherwise. 

“You can tell me if you didn’t like it. I won’t be hurt, I’ll understand, Joel,” you began to ramble defensively at his silence. 

He shushed you. 

“It’s not that I didn’t like the song. I loved it,” He started softly. 

“It’s just,” his eyes darkened. Your heart rate picked up and he continued. The air becoming thick and heavy with his words. 

“You just wrote me a song asking me to kiss you,” he started slowly walking toward you. His eyes were dark with lust and his large frame made you feel incredibly small. 

“A song asking me to kiss you, like I’ll never go any further,” he was in front of you now. 

His soft brown eyes bore into yours, your back was pressed into the counter, hands gripping it waiting to see what he does next. 

“Like I don’t want to take you upstairs and hear you scream my name,” he whispered in your ear.

“Joel,” you breathed, a familiar warm tightness in your stomach ripening.

“A song asking me not to fuck you as if I haven’t been dreaming of the day you’d let me in,” he kissed a spot on your jaw behind your ear. 

You inhaled sharply, “Please.” 

With that every ounce of restraint you had for another evaporated into the night. Joel’s hands found their way to your hips and yours to his neck. He kissed you like he had never kissed you before, this kiss was hungry. His grip on your hips tightened as he pulled you into him, grinding himself into you. A soft gasp escaped you and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue danced with yours as your hands began to explore his chest and back. 

You began to untuck his shirt and he pulled back from you. You were left confused and a bit dumbfounded at his sudden retreat. 

“Do you want to stop?” you asked gently, pulling back from him. 

“God no, you ju- shit, you need to know something,” He sighed. “No one’s seen me in a long time. There’s some things that I can’t talk about,” 

“Joel, it’s okay. Just tell me what you need,” You offered him a small smile. 

He grabbed the back of his shirt and slowly pulled it off over his head. You sucked in a breath as you began to take him in. 

The way his muscles flexed as he breathed heavily, the softness of his stomach that you knew was still strong. The way a trail of hair dipped from his belly button into his jeans making your gulp and your mouth run dry. And the scars. He had scars strewn across his chest, some smaller than others. 

You didn’t react, you didn’t want to gasp and fuss over him. It felt like he was bearing a part of his soul to you, something no one else knew and so you didn’t want to make a spectacle out of him.

You stepped toward him, placing a hand on his chest. 

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” You whispered, unsure of yourself. 

You slowly began to kiss and nip at his neck, your hands running down his abdomen. He groaned in response, you brought your lips to his chest and began kissing and nipping all over it. He brought his hand to your face and pulled you back to meet his gaze. 

“Thank you,” he said, kissing you softly. 

“Of course,” You brought your hands down his chest one more time and pressed against the growing bulge in his jeans. 

“Now I believe you promised to take me upstairs,” You said and his eyes darkened. “And I’ve heard you’re a man of your word.” 

With that you grabbed him by the wrist guiding him to your room on the upper level of the apartment. 

As soon as you entered your bedroom he pulled your wrist turning you around to meet him. He wrapped a strong arm around your waist and his other hand pressed against your cheek. He was kissing you again, feverish and needy. This was different from any other kiss you had shared; it was lustful and electric. 

His fingers dug into your hip as he deepened the kiss eliciting a moan from you. 

He pulled away tugging at your shirt removing it exposing your chest to him. His eyes gave you a once over and he brought his hand to your breast massaging it. You sighed at the feeling. 

“Good lord, you have no idea what you do to me,” He groaned.

He brought you to the edge of your bed, the tension almost painfully thick in the air. Joel sank to his knees in front of you. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants and panties, bringing them down together in one swift motion not wanting to waste any time. He pushed you to seat yourself on the edge of the bed. You spread your legs for him, showing him how needy and ready you were. He groaned at the sight of your glistening pussy, knowing he was the cause of your undoing. 

He grabbed the outside of your thighs, his hands exploring your body as his lips kissed and sucked the insides of your thighs drawing closer and closer to where you so desperately needed to be touched. 

“Fuck, darlin’ all this for me?” He teased, kissing the most inner corner of your thigh. 

You hummed, “If you ask nicely.” 

His eyes looked up to meet yours. You tangled your hands in the soft curls that drove you crazy and massaged his scalp gently with your nails. He leaned into your touch as his eyes softened, pleading you. 

“Baby, please?” He said breathlessly. 

“Yes, Joel. I need y-, Oh,” You gasped as his mouth surrounded the soft bundle of nerves that ached for his touch. 

He had completely infiltrated your senses, the way he sucked on your clit. With every bit of suction he pulled whines and moans from your lips. He hummed against your core. He gripped your thighs tighter, you hoped there would be soft marks in lieu of his hands when you woke. His tongue moved to penetrate your pussy; lapping your taste like you were the freshest summer peach and he didn’t want to waste a single drop of sweetness. 

The familiar tight burning pleasure pooled at the pit of your stomach as his tongue dragged back to your clit, the pressure and pace sending you toward the edge. You squirmed under his touch and your hands gripped his hair tightly, drawing him closer to you as his tongue worked your core. Your soft moans and gasps filled the room.

Your pussy began to flutter as you pushed over the edge, you moaned Joel’s name. Your orgasm washed over you, your walls clenched and pussy fluttered at the feeling. 

“That’s it, good girl.” Joel hummed against you, kissing your pussy one final time. He stood slowly, your hands fell from his head and you felt small sitting in front of him like this. 

He brought himself down to kiss you, you could taste yourself on his lips and it drove you even more wild. You wanted to take care of him and make him feel good. 

You took it upon yourself to unbutton his jeans and work his pants down. He stepped out of the jeans and you could see the large straining bulge in his briefs. You pressed you hand to his cock through his underwear and he groaned. He was long and full, your desire for him only grew, desperate to have him inside you. 

“Mm, Joel, I think I want to fuck you now,” You hummed, standing in front of his dragging your hands up past his bulge and across his abdomen. 

“Fuck yes,” he whispered cupping your cheek and kissing you again. 

You pulled his underwear down and his cock sprang to attention, you pushed him down toward the bed and he laid himself down in the middle. 

You straddled his hips, nothing in between you anymore, so you rocked your hips into him. You moaned in unison at the feeling. 

“Don’t tease me darlin’. I am not a patient man.” He nearly growled and smacked your ass. 

“Yes sir.”

You complied by aligning him at your entrance before slowly sinking onto him. His face contorted in pleasure, your gasped, mouth agape at the feeling of him stretching you open. You brought your lips to meet his in another kiss while you adjusted to his size. 

“M’gonna take care of you,” you mumbled into him, slowly beginning to rock your hips. 

“Ride me, baby. Gonna take such good care of me,” He praised, his hands gripping your hips. 

He guided your hips as you began to bounce on his cock. It didn’t take long before you both were stringing curses and moans as he repeatedly filled you to the hilt, hitting your most pleasurable pressure point deep within you. His thrusts slowly began to meet yours and pressure began to build in your core once again, you began to quickly chase your high. Your hips rocking his as your thrusts met one another, his hands guiding your hips at a pace that brought you both quickly to the edge. 

Your orgasm came washing over you before you knew it, your movements slowing as you cried Joels name, pussy fluttering around his cock that filled you so wonderfully. You would be sure to make a pattern out of fucking Joel; you had never felt this intense pleasure with anyone and you knew this was a high you’d chase again. 

“Good job, baby. Making yourself come on my cock. So fucking perfect,” He praised as he picked up his pace again. 

You collapsed on his chest kissing his neck, unable to move from your orgasm that was still washing over you as he fucked into you. His grip on your hips tightened as his hips snapped into you from underneath you. His pacing picked back up to chase his own high. He fucked into you rapidly before his thrusts became a bit more erratic. 

“M-Fuck gonna come,” He groaned your name as you slipped off of him. 

He came against his stomach and into his hand as you collapsed next to him. Content beyond yourself but completely spent. Just standing in a room with Joel overwhelmed your senses, but the visceral need you felt when he fucked you. It changed your perspective on what sex could be. 

When Joel was finished you stood quickly running to the bathroom to get him a damp washcloth. When you walked back to the bed the sight of him laying there cum painting his stomach, dick in his hand was enough to make your pussy flutter again. You helped clean him up before settling into his side, his arm wrapped around you. 

“That was,” you started. 

“Yeah,” Joel panted. 

“I’m clean by the way,” you said awkwardly. It didn’t matter much now as you hadn’t used a condom but for your own peace of mind you brought it up. 

“Okay, uh, me too. I haven’t since, well…” He fumbled over his words. 

“It’s been a long time for me too, Joel.” You smiled up at him softly stroking patterns into his chest. 

“I know it's been a long time, but has it ever felt that,” he paused, looking for the right word, “Perfect?” He asked. 

You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him and kissed him gently. 

“The best I think I’ll ever have,” you chuckled at him. 

He was right though, you had plenty of partners in the past. You always enjoyed sex, but it had never felt like that. You worried that any other sex will have been ruined as it will never mark up to sex with Joel. You opted not to think too much into it as you’re sure you’d be ready to jump Joel in any moment you found yourselves alone for the weeks to come. That thought left your mind spinning, wondering what this meant for the two of you. 

“Joel?” You bit your lip. 

“Mm,” he hummed, stroking the hair on top of your head. 

“Where do we go from here?” You asked pensively. 

“I don’t think we need to go anywhere. We can just be safe up here in our own little bubble,” He assured you. 

It wasn’t comforting in the way he thought it was. It freaked you out, you had never really done anything that was just for you. Your life was strategically placed pieces that looked like luck of the draw, but it was all perfectly planned to launch you into stardom. Your mind began to worry and wonder about what your team, your mom, the world, would think when word got out. You hadn’t even defined your relationship but knew it would have to end as soon as the press caught whiff of your affair with Joel, your bodyguard. 

“I can hear you thinking,” he whispered softly, as if he was worried you would disappear at the thought. 

“I’m just sorting this out,” you clammed up again, lost in your own world. 

Joel rubbed your back and you sighed, breath uneven, shaky. 

“Hey, hey, what’s going on in that mind of yours?” He prodded again. 

“It doesn’t matter, Joel.” You snipped. 

“It does. Tell me what’s going on. I want to know where you’re at,” 

You sighed, thinking about it for a moment. Hoping your vulnerability wouldn’t push him away, you opted to tell him the truth. 

“I’m scared, Joel. My whole life has been carefully curated from the moment I showed up in the local paper. Everything I’ve ever done has been a calculated move to advance my career,” you felt tears well in your eyes. 

He pulled you into his side tighter, your head resting on his bare chest and your hand gently drawing patterns across the scars that adorned him to calm yourself down. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

“It’s okay, baby. This can be just for us,” He said before kissing the top of your head. 

“It’s just,” you sighed. “Nothing in my life has ever really been mine, it’s been my mothers or my labels or my publicists, but I’ve never really done anything for me. I’m scared that it’s going to blow up in my face.” 

“I know, it’s scary, I wish we had met under different circumstances, but I can’t say I regret anything.” He tilted your head so you could look at him. 

“Whatever this is, let it just be for us to figure out. If at any point you want out or you want to go further, you just talk to me. I’ll follow your lead, but for now, let’s just enjoy whatever this is while it’s just ours.” 

You sat up to really look at him, find any hint of mistruth behind his words. His eyes softened at your concern, he took this moment to rub your back and kiss the top of your head. Such a small and subtle gesture that held so much promise. 

“Okay, you’re right.” Your breath shook, “Just you and me, Joel.”

You brought your hand to brush his fluffy gray curls away from his forehead and rested it against his cheek. He leaned into your touch slightly and you realized how intimate these moments with him were. They were uninterrupted by the lives you lead, and made your heart skip in your chest. 

You brought your lips to his in a kiss that was soft and light, hoping it felt like a promise to him the way it did for you. He gripped your waist slightly tighter, not trying to go any further but to ground you here with him. 

You were both breathless when you pulled away, this kiss held an intensity neither of you had experienced before. 

“I’ll go clean up,” you said, now very aware of your sweat stained skin. 

“I’ll join you in a second,” Joel smiled, letting you have a moment to yourself. 

You stood and made your way to the bathroom, Joel reached over to the bedside table to grab his phone. 

He realized he had grabbed the wrong phone pretty well as soon as the screen lit up and went to put it down immediately, but not before he saw a text come through. One that felt like a blow to the chest. 

I'm sorry I got so angry. I’m sad they won’t let me see you, but glad it meant you got my note. 

He knew he shouldn’t have read it, but your safety was in jeopardy. He took a breath and heard the toilet flush and shower start. He would find a way to bring it up to you, when the time was right. 

His hope was that you would bring it up to him before it came to that. 

The warm water over your skin was exactly what you had needed. Your night with Joel was everything you wanted it to be and more, but it was still very emotionally charged. 

You heard his steps in the bathroom as the water from the shower ran over you. His warm presence filled the space behind you as he kissed your shoulder and you leaned into him. The full ache between your thighs returning in promise to him. 

You were spent from the evening but the way his kisses trailed up you neck and hands held you to him was intoxicating.

For the first time in your life you had felt so grounded and so safe. Joel didn’t expect anything from you, he just wanted to know you through and through. And that was worth fighting for, no matter what. 

tags: @darkroastjoel @morning-star-joy @skysmiller @harriedandharassed @canseethebrushstrokes @kyloispunk @skythighs @reader-without-a-story @aryastark-baratheon @ilovepedro @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @cupofjoel @cavillscurls & you know the drill lmk if i missed ya or you'd like the updates xo

[inkandpen22]

Always a Ploy

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Y/N is often used as a ploy to catch the perpetrators and it drives Spencer crazy 

A/N: I’m always adding new one shots for Reid so if you’d like to be tagged lmk!

Masterlist

Y/N

I sway my head from side to side, playing music in my head to distract myself from the fact that I'm freezing. 'Stand and wait on the side of the house' Hotch ordered. 'I'll give you the go-ahead soon' he promised. Ten minutes later, Reid and I are still waiting for the said go-ahead. At least Reid gets to be in normal clothes for the desert at night. I'm yet again being offered up as a ploy and in Morgan's mind, a door-to-door saleswoman would wear a dress when the weather is supposed to be low sixties, the wind not included. 

"Honey, you're killing me. Are you sure you don't want my jacket?" Reid offers again for the third time in the last five minutes. 

"Yes." My breath escapes between my teeth. "I'm fine. Plus, we won't have much time once Hotch gives the signal." I shake my limbs to remain warm. 

“Wait for my command," Hotch announces into our earpieces. "We lost sight of him in the window. We suspect he’s headed to the basement.” 

I shake my head. “Screw this. I’m going in.” 

“No, you’re not!” 

“They’re children! One more minute with that monster is another minute of trauma!” I move to step around the house and toward the front door. 

Reid slips his gun back onto his belt and grabs my wrist to stop me. He yanks me back and pins me against the cool wooden panels of the house. I open my mouth to argue and he covers my mouth. He whispers frantically, “Baby, baby, listen to me. I can’t let you in there!" I wiggle in his hold. “Stop fighting me.” 

“Y/N, you may proceed," Hotch announces, giving me the go-ahead. 

Reluctantly, Reid has no choice but to let me go. His hand falls from my mouth slowly, but he keeps me pinned and stares into my eyes warningly. “Don’t do anything reckless!" 

I smirk and slip out from under him. “You should know me better than assume I’d listen.” 

“Y/N, I’m serious!” He whispers, aggravated. 

“So am I." I send him a wink as I step out from beside the house. 

The lights from the living room pour out of the window onto the dry dirt yard. I take a minute a toss my hair to one side and yank the dress down to reveal more of my chest. 

Spencer

I watch from the shadows as Y/N adjusts herself to speak with the suspect. I hate it when she does this. I understand that Hotchner and everyone agrees that it works, but their opinions don't make any less uncomfortable. My own girlfriend is being used as a ploy, expected to flont herself to earn the trust of serial killers or rapists. 

Morgan appears beside me and squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t get hostile, Boy Genius.” 

“She’s doing it on purpose,” I grumble, gesturing to Y/N. 

“I know, I know.” He sighs. "But she's just doing her job. It's all pretending to her too," he assures me. "She's into you, man." 

Y/N

I ring the doorbell and rock on my heels, making the panels of the porch creak. Suddenly, the door swings open to reveal a worn-down middle-aged man in dirty overalls. 

“I don’t want to join any religion," he grumbles. He goes to slam the door shut, but I block it with my hand. 

“Neither do I,” I voice softly with a smirk. I step forward to stand on the threshold. “But maybe you’d like to sit down and talk about your finances? Have you been keeping track of where you’ve been putting your... assets?” I scan the man up and down with my eyes until I meet his gaze. 

Spencer

As we listen to Y/N flirt with the suspect, Morgan chuckles quietly next to me. 

I elbow him in the stomach. “It’s not funny.” 

“She sounds like Jessica Rabbit,” he jokes, only irritating me more. 

There's creaking on the porch, followed by the front door squeaking shut. He's let her in. 

Y/N

The place is an utter wreck. There have to be at least a dozen cats, hundreds of old newspapers scattered everyone, and it smells of feces. I sit down on the worn and ripped plaid couch next to the old man. I wear my best smile, though inside I'm screaming. 

“Now, let’s begin. What bank do you currently use?” I ask, gripping my fake leather finance binder. 

The man shifts closer to me. “Chase.” 

I note now that he's missing at least five teeth. I nod. “They are great to their members, but we something broader... larger in size," I chose my words intentionally. 

Abruptly, there's a high-pitch scream from within the house, making both of us freeze. 

“What was that?” I ask, searching the surrounding area. 

“My daughter is upstairs playing!" He rushes out and scoots closer to me. Boldly, he places his hand on my bare knee. "What was that you said about size?” He grins and begins to glide his hand up slowly. 

I swallow hard, my eyes on his hand. I try to ease it off. “Sir, please-“ 

He lifts his hand off my knee and brings it to my shoulder. He tries to urge me to lay down. “Come on, sugar. I’ll pay you for your time. Your supervisor won’t have to know.” 

I reach underneath my dress and whip out my gun, pointing it directly between his eyes. “FBI, down on the ground!” 

His eyes grow wide and his jaw nearly hits the floor. “What!” 

The S.W.A.T. team barges into the house, all yelling over each other. They march deeper into the house and into the basement where we know the children are. Hotchner appears in the foyer with Reid and Morgan. Soon, Prentiss and JJ are close behind. 

Reid yanks the man off of me and tosses him onto the ground on his knees. He handcuffs him and pulls him to his feet. “No means no, asshole!” 

“She was asking for it," the suspect huffs as he's dragged off toward the foyer. 

Reid laughs mockingly. “Doubtful consider she just has to go to me for that." 

Morgan kneels in front of me. “You okay?” 

I nod weakly. “After every time I just feel gross.” I shake out my arms with a shiver. 

“He’s a disgusting man. I’m sorry he touched you.” 

“Part of the job.” I shrug. “At least I know how to defend myself. There are so many women who don't." 

Morgan nods. "Maybe you can take your experiences and help those women." 

Now there's an idea. 

__________________________________________________

I lean against the car with JJ and Prentiss as the S.W.A.T. team and members of C.P.S carry the little girls out of the basement and into ambulances. It's a bittersweet sight. Morgan and Reid step out of the house once the last child is removed. Morgan pats Reid on the back with a chuckle as they approach us. 

As soon as they reach us, Reid takes my hand and leads me to a tree a few feet away from the car. When we have some privacy, he starts to apologize. “Look, I’m sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have grabbed you and covered your mouth. I didn’t know-“ 

I cut him off, reaching up and bringing my lips to meet his with a quick peck. His hands rest on my waist and I break from him. 

He blinks rapidly, taken aback. “I thought you’d be mad.” 

“Oh I was pissed in the moment. Now, it’s just hot," I grin, wrapping my arms around his waist. 

He smirks. “Noted.” 

“I didn’t know you could move so quickly, Reid,” I giggle. “And what you said to the perpetrator when you arrested him!” 

He chuckles, “yeah I may have been a little heated in the moment. In my defense, he did touch you! Okay, that was not a part of the plan!” 

“I appreciate the protectiveness,” I assure him with a laugh. 

He glances down at the small space between us and the smile on his lips fades slowly. 

I can tell there's something on his mind. 

“About your performance...” He mumbles. 

“Didn’t like it?” I ask, knowing how he hates it when I have to be a ploy. 

He nods frantically. “Yeah, never again," he orders. 

“Deal.” I nod, giving his lips a quick peck again. 

He smiles into the kiss. “Well, never again for anyone else," he adds against my lips, making me grin. He breaks from me to ask, "Do you think maybe tonight you and I could talk about my assets?” 

I swat him on the arm. “Reid!” 

He chuckles, "you're right. We'll talk about this when we get home." 

I roll my eyes and they land on our teammates by the car as they watch us go back and forth, smiling brightly. 

_____________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @mrsobrien888​ @hufflepufftruffle @gillybear17 @thatsonezesty13 @smol-flowerkiddo @reesespieces10123 @madds-m @az3r0o @wafflebacon23 @spencerreid-mgg @alfonsais @justlivinginadaydream @kaitlynpcallmebeepme @farah3012 @doveygirlkay-blog @dreatine  @imhappybutimalsosad @parahmur  @tremendousdinosaurhideout  @destiny-dream67  @ashwarren32  @yeahjustcallmer-n @bluehydrangea-cherry​ @izzysecrets

[ahsokasshoto]

gold: a bad batch fanfic

word count: 1,362

content: no romantic relationship, lots of dialogue, nothing but fluff and brubbers being sweet together, takes place between clone wars and bad batch (ps if you recognize the Coleridge homage in this please marry me)

summary: The Batch has some time off and they've decided to take a beach vacation. Echo is self-conscious about his cybernetics, and Tech comforts him through the power of music and brotherly love.

song: gold by fyfe and iksa strings ao3

"It's said that this bay in particular is known for the number of rare specimens which can be observed. I'm hoping we will see an emerald water snake." 

Echo sighed, shaking his head as he sat sullenly on his bunk. Tech had been babbling away like this for several minutes, detailing every aspect of their vacation spot. They had some days off and wanted to do something to relax, and everyone was excited about the idea of a beach vacation. 

Everyone except for Echo. 

"And did you know that there is a species of bioluminescent algae which blooms only once a cycle? If my calculations are correct, we should be arriving right in the middle of this cycle's--why aren't you ready yet?”

Tech interrupted himself as he came into their shared bunk space and saw Echo, sitting on the edge of the bunk, still wearing his blacks as well as a sour expression.  

Echo crossed his arms, looking away from his brother. "I'm staying on the ship." 

"What?" Tech pushed his goggles up on his nose. "What do you mean? This is supposed to be our vacation!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I need a vacation from all of you," Echo retorted. 

Tech rolled his eyes. "Your response is disingenuous, and indicative of a larger problem." He sighed and sat down next to his brother. "What is really going on?" he insisted.

"Maybe I'm just worried about all the water and sand screwing with my cybernetics."

Tech shook his head. "Wrong again. You know I applied a hydrophobic spray and sealant on your cybernetics."

Echo grunted, trying to turn further away from his brother. Tech responded by slowly reaching out, gently uncrossing Echo's arms and turning him back towards himself to look him in the eyes. Echo still cast his eyes down, avoiding his brother's gaze. 

"I don't want to be stared at, okay?" 

"Oh." Tech immediately looked away, a light tinge flushing his cheeks. "My apologies--"

"I don't mean by you, or our brothers. I mean by…" he gestured around vaguely, "everyone else. All anyone sees when they look at me now are my cybernetics. My battle. My scars. You said it yourself; I'm 'more machine than man' now, aren't I?"

"Percentage-wise, yes," Tech responded quickly, unthinking. Echo merely huffed in response. 

Tech's brow furrowed in a wave of thought and emotion. It appeared his words had caused his brother pain, and he was frustrated with himself for being so callous. He was only ever trying to be factual. He sighed softly. 

"That was the incorrect response. I did not mean--"

"I know what you meant. And I know what they see."

"Well, who cares what they see? I don't see you as a machine, Echo."

Echo looked up at Tech then, his eyes searching. "What do you see, Tech?" Echo was genuinely asking. Tech could be so forthright about everything but himself; you had to be direct. 

Suddenly, as if guided by the force, the memory of a song came floating into Tech's mind. 

"If life were a song, you're my favorite line...I wish that you could see you like I see you all the time," he sang softly. His voice was light and airy and sweet. He took Echo's scomp link in his gentle hands, fingers delicately flitting over the cybernetics, absent-mindedly making minor adjustments.

"No damage beyond a brother's delight," he continued, "I wish you knew your scars are precious too, no need to hide."

He looked Echo in the eyes then, a soft smile on his lips. "I see them like gold," he finished in a quiet, reverent whisper.

Echo watched Tech slowly reach out a hand towards his face; felt the fluttering of fingers on his cheeks brushing away the teardrops. 

He hadn't noticed he was crying.  

"It doesn't matter how anyone else looks at you. Because the people who matter will see you."  

Echo released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "The last person to sing for me like that was Fives."

Tech's eyes filled with worry. "I apologize if I brought on any painful memories--"

"No." Echo shook his head, then smiled over at his brother. "They're good memories." He threw an arm over Tech's shoulders; Tech felt Echo's weight shift against him as he relaxed. "Thank you, brother."

They sat there together for a few more quiet moments. "Besides," Tech piped up after a fashion, "if my calculations are correct, which they are, and we are able to witness this algal bloom, I don't think anyone will be looking at you, or any of us. It's said to be quite magnificent."

Echo chuckled at the normalcy of his brother always circling back to the data of it all. And Tech grinned, pleased with himself that he was able to cheer his brother up. 

"Alright, alright, I'm convinced," Echo said. "But this algae thing better be worth it."

Tech grinned wider, standing up to leave Echo to finish getting ready. "Oh, it will be. You'll see."

Echo's heart still hammered in his chest as he made his way down to the shore to join his brothers. Hunter and Crosshair were busy with getting a fire going to cook some meat over. Tech wandered up and down the beach with his nose in his holopad, presumably taking notes on all of those rare specimens he'd been talking about. Wrecker, of course, was already splashing about in the sea.

There were other people around as well--some couples, some families with their kids, some friends--but they were all so busy in enjoying the beach themselves, none of them gave Echo and his cybernetics a second thought.

He relaxed a little, silently chastising himself for being so worried in the first place. 

"There you are!" Wrecker called to him, waving excitedly from the water. "Come on, let's test that hydro-whatever Tech made! The water's great!" 

Hunter and Crosshair smiled at him as he came down the beach. "Food's gonna be ready soon," Hunter told him. 

"Oh! Tech, is that one of your snakes? Hold on, I'm gonna try to catch it!" "No, wait, they can be very territorial--" They could hear Wrecker and Tech shouting from the water. 

"Please go occupy Wrecker before he does something truly stupid," Crosshair asked Echo. "Alright, alright," Echo chuckled, making his way down towards the water.

"Haha! Got ya! Oh…" Wrecker looked up, eyes wide to see Echo completely covered with water from where Wrecker had splashed, trying and failing to catch one of the snakes. The cool water actually felt refreshing on his skin, and the water rolled right off his cybernetics without getting inside. "Looks like your hydrophobic spray is working!" he called to Tech. 

"Of course it is," his brother responded, not looking up from his datapad, but there was a soft smile on his face. 

Echo smiled too. The heat of the sun bearing down on the beach was no match for the warmth spreading through Echo, glad to be here and be himself among his brothers.

And Tech was not wrong about the algal bloom. The five clones stood together on the beach as the dusk softly descended down around them, and the beach slowly twinkled to life as the algae gathered at the shoreline began to glow with a delicate golden light.

"They look like stars," Echo whispered, admiring the way the algae dotted across the dark water. 

"I told you," Tech replied smugly. Echo could only chuckle and throw his arm around his brother again. Tech pulled Hunter in with his other arm, and Echo threw his other around Wrecker, who dragged Crosshair in as well until they were all standing, arms linked, appreciating this sea full of stars. 

Echo smiled too. The heat of the sun bearing down on the beach was no match for the warmth spreading through him, glad to be here and be himself among his brothers. 

"Oh, look, look!" Tech exclaimed excitedly as a couple of water snakes began to dance across the surface; from the shore, the brothers watched as they moved in tracks of shining light which glanced off their glossy green forms like glittering flakes when they reared. They coiled and swam and every track was a flash of golden fire. 

Tech's words reverberated in Echo's mind, and he hummed softly to himself, 

"I see them like gold…" 

tags: @itsjml @eyecandyeoz @kratosfan6632466 @archisstically-done @sstarwarsss @aspiring-spellcaster @captxin-rex hmm i can't think of who else to tag so lmk if you want to be tagged on future fics!

[amintyworld]

Denial - Dream SMP SMPsona Oneshot

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the lack of content lately, I've been on a bit of writer's block. Anyway, this one-shot is inspired by my OC SMPsona Flower! If you'd like to see more content of her let me know and if you have questions about her character or story my ask box is open! I hope you enjoy it! - Minty

Summary: After losing her first cannon life, Flower visits Phil as she usually would for tea. She ends up finding comfort in the only true friend she has left.

TW: Major Character Death, Mention of Major Character Death, Slight blood/gore (Not too severe, just a few sentences), Betrayal (If you squint), denial, loneliness, self-blame. (LMK if I need to tag anything else!)

----------------------------

Flower grasped the basket of goodies awkwardly, taking a deep breath she wasn’t aware she needed. The other day was… it wasn’t great, but today’s a new day. A clean slate. That doesn’t mean everything was the same, however - Fundy and Quackity glared at her as she passed, and when Ranboo tried to walk up to her to say hello it was like he realized who it was and just froze in his tracks. Murmurs floating around didn’t exactly help the large pit that grew in her stomach. Traitor, they said. How could she be something she never wanted to be? She never tried to be? L’manberg was her home. These were her friends. She.. she wasn’t like Eret, or… or Wilbur. She was just defending someone who couldn’t defend himself! She was just trying to help.

Despite it all, one thing was for certain - she’d give anything for things to be normal right now. Maybe that was why it took her so long to meet up with Phil for tea.

Gathering courage, she raised her arm and knocked. For a moment she wondered if Phil was mad at her too. He didn’t see everything, maybe he thought she’d lead them there. Shuffling could be heard beyond the door, muffled with voices inside. Voices. Did he have someone over? She didn’t want to impose, he’s been through a lot, maybe she should just-

When Philza finally opened the door, blonde hair framing his face perfectly with that same tired warm smile, she’d tensed up. “Hey, Flower.”

“Hi, Phil.” She swallowed, mustering a small smile. “Sorry I didn’t come by earlier, I was, uhm… busy.” She heard a distinct ‘Baa’ come from inside, which proved to only raise more questions to add to her ever-growing list. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, no no please.” Phil moved aside, holding the door open. “It’s been quite a while.”

Flower walked inside, her heart dropping in her chest seeing materials scattered all over the floor, chests busted and broken. The walls and floor were littered with axe and sword marks. They really weren’t kidding. She remembered only a few weeks ago Phil finally was fully moved in - he’d organized the chests to his satisfaction and somehow lugged his bed up to the second floor. It was pristine. Did… did they really-? “Phil… Phil, what…?”

“Sorry for the mess, everytime I think I’ve gathered it all I find more material in a corner somewhere.” He shrugged, moving toward the furnace and grabbing a kettle from the chest. A lump formed in her throat when she noticed the bulky and seemingly heavy ankle bracelet on his right foot. The blinking red light taunted her. “Can I get you some coffee, tea…?”

After what felt like forever, she found her voice again. “Some tea would be great.”

“Of course. Make yourself at home, I’ll be right over.”

“Right. Thanks.” As she moved to go sit, she’d been so distracted she hadn’t noticed a blue-wooled sheep sniffing around her basket. It looked up at her with big brown pleading puppy-dog eyes, and she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the creature, even to relieve her worries for just a moment. “Excuse me, little guy, but what exactly do you think you’re doing in there?”

“Ah, I see you’ve found Friend.”

“Friend?”

“Ghostbur’s pet.” Ghostbur? She hadn’t heard of him since he got shipped out with Tommy after the exile. He was... back in L’manburg? The teenager turned to the winged creature.

“Phil, you’re sheepsitting?” She smirked slightly, hand combing through Friend’s soft fur.

Philza chuckled, turning briefly to face his friend. “It wasn’t exactly as if I had much of a choice. He didn’t trust anyone else.”

“That’s… kinda cute, though.” she admitted, moving to sit and put her basket upon the table. “You know, in a Ghostbur kind of way.” She shrugged.

“He’s been visiting a lot more lately. I gotta admit, it’s nice to have the company.” Phil carefully picked up the two mugs, bringing them over and setting them down on the table to cool.

“Sorry about that, I really should’ve told you-”

“Flower, it’s okay. You don’t have to look after me. I know you’ve got things going on.” Flower couldn’t understand how Phil kept smiling, throughout all this. How he kept his voice even. Why wasn’t he mad, no, furious with her?! She was the one who tried to protect him! She was the one who couldn’t fight back. She was the one who failed.

It’s… it’s okay..? It’s okay?!

“But this… your house, you… you have a fucking ankle monitor, Phil! That’s NOT okay.” Flower raised her voice. “You didn’t do anything!”

Phil winced at her outburst, looking down at the steam rising up from his mug. “I... didn’t tell them where Technoblade was.” He breathed. Flower deflated, looking over toward her friend, eyebrows furrowed. “That’s why. They demanded to know where he was so they could kill him, and I wouldn’t tell them. Not like it mattered, they found the compass he gave me anyway.”

“This isn’t like them, any of them,” Flower added, breaking the brief moment of silence. “I don’t... agree with what Techno did, but… going after him, organizing a witch hunt… Tubbo said he promised we’d get peace. No more fighting, not after the 16th.” Tears welled up at the edges of the teen’s eyes. “This isn’t, this wasn’t like him. They were never this violent, Ranboo would never hurt a fucking fly, I…”

“People change. Sometimes it’s… it’s just not for the better.”

“But I know them, they’re my friends…” She took a deep breath. Friends. Yeah, the same friends who won’t talk to you anymore. “This doesn’t make any sense, they wouldn’t… they wouldn’t…”

They wouldn’t kill me on purpose.

...Right?

“I told you, get out of the fucking way!”

“No! I won’t let you hurt him! If you’re gonna kill him you’ll have to kill me first!”

“We don’t want to hurt you, Flower.”

“Guys, can we just… uh… talk about-?”

“Back off, Ranboo.” Quackity warned.

“Flower, please. Please, just step aside. You don’t know what’s going on here, you don’t know what he’s hiding!”

“Yeah, you’re right, Tubbo. I don’t have a clue about what Phil knows. But I know netherite has never mixed well with a simple conversation, has it?”

“We’re not gonna hurt Gramps-”

“Then drop the weapons.”

“Flower…”

“You don’t wanna hurt me? You wanna talk to him? Drop the weapons now.” Her eyes narrowed. “That means you, Quackity.”

Something darkened in his eyes, anger flared from a place Flower never knew existed. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t take orders from you. MOVE!”

“Make me.”

It was so quick. A second of pure pain. A whimper escaped her lips. She felt the blade slice through her body, the blood well up on her throat as she choked. For that one second, she looked at them. Her friends.

Tubbo merely looked at the ground, eyes shut.

He didn’t care.

Phil looked over at her, squeezing her arm in a bit of comfort. “Are you… are you okay, Flower?”

The scar across her chest throbbed in pain at the memory, her eyes wide and a knot in her throat as tears fell down her cheeks. “I… P-Phil...” She sobbed, tea long forgotten as she curled in on herself.

“Oh, mate…” Phil’s warm gaze turned to sympathy as he moved over toward her, wrapping her in a tight hug pulling her to the floor. The teenager sobbed, heartbroken. Tears pricked at the edges of the winged creature’s eyes. “I know… I’m… I know…”

“He didn’t even look at me Phil… they killed me and he…” She sobbed. “He…” Phil’s hands laced through her hair, his wings moved slightly to wrap around her as well, like a soft, warm blanket. Protection. Protection the Angel of Death couldn’t give her then, but he swore he would now. They sat there for hours, surrounded by destruction and hurt, their only real comfort being each other.

-----------------------------

General Writing Taglist (Let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!):

@bones-sprouts

@foolishcaptains

[astralaffairs]

on fear under stark, dying lighting || thomas jefferson, fotp-verse

title: on fear under stark, dying lighting

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader, an fotp-verse oneshot

words: 5k

request: how would thom react if lets say maybe his neo-nazi supporters get too passionate abt their anger towards mc’s articles and um try to shoot/mug/harm her to stop her from writing anything else against thom?

notes: ok so first off lemme preface this w the fact that thom is a self respecting black man who has another self respecting black man as his running mate so tbr the neo-nazi white supremacists r not exactly his demographic of supporters. that said i fucking loved this prompt; set in the universe of freedom of the press, but not canon w/ the storyline

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8@assbuttstyles777 @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa@hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies@fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach@snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed@rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk@daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich@cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudynblw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow  @siriusorionblackiii @fanfic-addict-98 @checkurwindow @nyxie75 @i-know-i-can @yxseminx @yavin4andor @sugacita @sstrawberry-fanta @youtxbemusic @queenwilty — hope i didnt miss anyone; lmk if you want to be added!!

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Y/N scrunched up her nose as her eyes fluttered open, the gritty, incessant sound of the machine grating on her nerves — while she was no stranger to the sound of her own heartbeat, she'd never heard it like that. When she finally tried to look around the room, she winced. The sterile-white LED lights lining the ceiling made her eyes burn; as she adjusted to it, slowly waking up, she began to notice the steady click of an IV drip not far from where her head rested.

She didn't move at first, blinking hard as the ceiling was her entire range of vision, but when she tried to sit up, a sharp pain shot through her shoulder, and she cried out, her hand flying up to the spot.

"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart, lay down, okay? Relax, please. You're gonna hurt yourself."

The beep of the heart rate monitor accelerated in a fleeting moment, and steady, familiar hands came to rest gently on her good shoulder and her upper back, easing her into the crinkly mattress beneath her. She turned with wide eyes to find the last person she expected at her bedside as he propped her head up onto a pillow.

"Thomas?" she asked breathlessly. "Shit, I... What are you doing here? Did you bring me here? I don't..." Her brow furrowed as she eyed his worried expression, the small, scared frown he wore. As she tried to shift in her bed, turn to look at him, she gasped at the throbbing in her upper arm — with that, it didn't take long for her to recall exactly what she was doing there, though the details were hazy. She didn't know what to make of her current circumstance, though.

"Here, d'you want me to raise the back of the bed so you don't needa hold yourself up?" Though she'd screwed her eyes shut, her jaw clenched as she tried to bear the pain, as his hand ghosted down to her forearm, as he brushed his thumb across her skin, he could hear her pulse beginning to settle. She nodded, laying onto her back with a grimace.

A moment passed in silence while she tried to collect her thoughts. She let out a soft hum when the reclined top of the bed began to fold upward, letting her shift into a sitting position, she withdrew her right arm from Thomas's grasp, pulling it back to instead lace her fingers into his. "Better?"

"Mhm." When she again opened her eyes, he'd pulled his chair closer. She frowned. "How are you here? You... We're in public, Thomas; you can't..." She trailed off, but when the concern in his gaze didn't subside in the least, she said, "Did I die? Am I... Is this even real? I don't understand."

Despite everything, at her words, a teasing grin split his grim expression, and he squeezed her hand lightly. "Well, first of all, 'm flattered that you think wakin' up here next to me might actually be heaven—" She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help her soft, endeared smile. "—but no, you're alright, just in the hospital. You're gonna be fine."

"I guess that's a relief," she sighed, pursing her lips. She eyed him with concerned hesitance. "But what are you doing here?"

"What d'you mean, 'what am I doing here?'" he asked incredulously, his voice soft. "Three of my supporters just tried to fucking kill you 'cause they were tryin' to defend my image. Did you think I wasn't gonna come see you? Make sure you're okay? I've been worried sick, Y/N."

"I..." She swallowed the lump building in her throat as she remembered everything that happened, how quickly it'd all gone down. With the way they'd cornered her, she was lucky to have escaped with a bullet in her shoulder. She was lucky to have even made it out alive. "I'm really, really glad you're here," she said with a weak smile, "but we aren't exactly holed up in your penthouse, right now. How do you plan to explain that you came to visit me in the hospital?"

"Well, officially, 'm here to offer my deepest apologies on behalf of myself 'n my campaign and to let you know that I entirely denounce what happened," he said, and as his gaze fell, as he couldn't bear to meet her eyes, she could see the remorse in her demeanor. "Everyone's just gonna think it's damage control, and I get why. Some of that was just an excuse for me comin' to see you. But really... I can't tell you how sorry I am that this happened. 'M so, so sorry that people came out 'n tracked you down, tried to murder you in my name. You can't... I can't begin to tell you how much I wish I could go back and do somethin' different to stop this from happenin'. That I didn't spend so much time messin' with you on Twitter. That I woulda—"

"Stop it," Y/N said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. She could see Thomas's eyes welling up, his stare glassy; she could hear his voice beginning to waver. "Stop. You know this wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could've done to prevent it. You're a good person, okay? I know you. Please, please don't blame yourself."

She squeezed his hand, and he shut his eyes tightly. "Fuck, I don't—" He sniffled loudly, reaching up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "Don't know why you're comforting me right now. 'M not supposed to be the one who needs it; I don't wanna make this about me. 'M sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You aren't responsible for this, and I don't blame you for it in the least." At her gentle tone, he let out a ragged huff, still not meeting her eyes. She frowned. "Hey, look at me. You didn't do anything to incite this."

"You're too forgivin'," he finally said, lifting his head to meet her gaze. "I don't deserve it."

She scoffed at the words, breaking his gaze to shake her head in exasperation. "Thomas, if you don't deserve to be forgiven, that's because there's nothing to forgive. Please, this isn't your burden."

There was a skip, silence aside from the IV drip and the staticky beep of the heart rate monitor. "That's enough talkin' about me," he finally said. Y/N sighed. His deflecting was overt, but he didn't seem to care. "How are you? I don't just mean your shoulder, either. No one would judge you for bein' rattled after everything that happened."

She shrugged, and he could see the pain in her eyes. "I'm not great, if I'm honest. I was just so scared." She drew in a shaky breath. He took her hand in both of his, pulling his chair closer to her side. "How'd you even find out about this, anyway? Lafayette?"

"Now, why d'you think Lafayette woulda heard about you bein' in the hospital before I did?" He could only feign offense, but the eyebrow he raised was playful. She couldn't stifle her amused smile. "That hurts, sweetheart, really. He matters that much more to you than I do?"

"Shut up; you know that none of my other friends would tell you about this," she groaned, but any exhaustion in her voice was contrived. "Alex and his sister-in-law are my emergency contacts. Which one of them would've ever called you?"

"Alright, alright." Thomas huffed, trying to purse his lips to hide his grin. "James called me. Dolley saw it on the news."

"Oh my god, it's on the news?" Her eyes widened, and Thomas was struck with a pang of guilt as he heard her pulse begin to spike — there wasn't much she could hide when hooked up to a heart rate monitor. "Shit, I– I need to call Mira and Orlando; they've gotta be terrified. And Angelica, holy shit, I'm sure she's heard. What time is it? How long has it been since the story broke?"

"Hey, calm down, okay? They're outside. They know you're gonna be alright," he murmured, rubbing the back of her hand comfortingly, and he sighed as he heard her heartbeat slow. "Everyone's out there. James 'n Dolley came, Lafayette came... Hamilton brought his whole family. I met Angelica, just now."

Her eyebrows shot up, but a laugh was etched into her surprised smile. "Oh, no, tell me you're lying. I can't imagine that went well."

He hummed in agreement, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched her enthusiasm begin to grow. "Nah, not so much. Think she woulda throttled me out in the lobby if Mira hadn't stopped her."

Y/N groaned. "Of course Mira's out there defending you. Some priorities."

"Oh, would you rather your friends killed me with their bare hands?" He raised an expectant eyebrow, and when Y/N only shrugged, he scowled.

"Listen, all I'm saying is that if someone shot you in my name and James tried to throttle me for it, I'd understand."

Thomas gave a reluctant hum. "Forgot how much you liked havin' people's hands around your throat. Guess you'd probably enjoy it, huh?"

Her eyes widened as her breath caught, blood rushing to her cheeks. She could feel her skin burning, and somewhere in the background, she was vaguely aware of the rush of her heart rate monitor. "Thomas. Shut up, I swear to god."

He laughed when she tried to shove his hands away, yank her right arm out of his grasp, but when he just squeezed her forearm teasingly, she turned her head. She couldn't meet his gaze with the scowl she wore. "Aw, what's the problem? You only into that when I'm the one doin' it?"

"Thomas." She whipped her head back around to him with a wearing look, appearingly taken aback, but her teeth were sinking hard into her bottom lip. When she saw the mocking pout he wore, a chill ran down her back; her stomach turned.

"Y'know, I'm kinda havin' fun with bein' able to hear your heart rate." When he winked, the corners of his lips turning up into a knowing smile, the heat in the back of her neck flared.

"You're exhausting," she grumbled. He shrugged.

"Mmh, I can see that." When she turned to him with an eyebrow raised, he grinned. "Nothin' to be ashamed of, sweetheart. I know I—"

He was cut off by the click of the door being thrown open, and a nurse rushed into the room, closely followed by the small army of people there to see Y/N. They both pulled abruptly back from one another. Y/N's heart was pounding.

"Y/N! Are you okay? Did something happen?" Eliza asked pushing through to see you with wide, worried eyes. Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but when she just gaped at everyone for a moment, Alex immediately cut in.

"Jefferson, I swear to god, if you laid a finger on her, I'll end you. I knew it was a bad idea to let him in here," Alex scowled, glaring at Thomas as he strode toward them, but Y/N's brows shot up.

"Hey, woah, stop it," she said holding up her right hand, a silent request for him to come to a halt. Reluctantly, he did, still eyeing Thomas skeptically. "Nothing happened. I'm okay. Why'd you all come in here like this?"

"Your heart rate was rising, dear. We thought you could've been having a seizure, or a heart attack, or... or something," Dolley said, and Alex glared when she pushed her way in front of him. "How are you? I saw the video online, and oh, Y/N, it was awful. I couldn't bear to see such a thing happening to you."

"Dolley, hey." Y/N wore a soft smile as Dolley came to her bedside, resting a hand on her calf. "I'm okay. Not the best I've ever felt, but it isn't anything I won't be able to sleep off. That, and some painkillers, of course."

Dolley gave her a wry smile. "Let me know if there's anything I can do. I have a neglected bottle of rosé sitting in our pantry and two pints of ice cream in the freezer, so go ahead and pick your poison."

Y/N laughed. "I'll have to see what flavors of ice cream you've got stashed away, but either option is dangerously tempting."

Dolley was about to reply, but when Angelica emerged to her left, she jumped back, startled. "Anyway, why was your heart rate so high? You don't look like you're going into a coma, so what'd he do?" Angelica nodded toward Thomas, the look in her eyes all business and her brow furrowed. Thomas raised an affronted brow.

"Oh, please, Thomas wouldn't hurt a fly." As everyone began to disperse themselves around her bedside, the group who'd come to see her made Y/N's heart warm. She resisted rolling her eyes at the doting smile Mira gave Thomas alongside her words, which he returned gratefully. (Suck up.) However, Mira also turned to Y/N with a hesitant look. "Right, mija?"

Y/N pursed her lips, glancing between Mira and Thomas dubiously, but Thomas looked smug. "Yeah, yeah, he's in the clear," she agreed reluctantly. "My heart rate spiked because I stupidly tried to use both my arms to shift where I was sitting. It didn't feel so great for, y'know, my bullet wound." When she gave a weak smile, there were sighs of relief scattered throughout the group (Thomas's was the most adamant; he hadn't expected her to bail him out quite that easily).

"Well, we are glad to see zat you are alright." Lafayette offered her a soft smile, and when she found him standing directly beside Thomas, she reached out to squeeze the hand he had resting on the rail of her bed. A flicker of dejection passed through Thomas's expression, gone almost the moment it came.

"I'm glad to see all of you here. It was really sweet of you to come," Y/N said, looking around the group. Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of James standing just behind Dolley, a small smile resting on his lips. "Aw, James, even you showed up?"

"Of course, Y/N. We on Thomas's campaign have been incredibly concerned."

She rolled her eyes at his formal tone. "Yeah, yeah, talk all you want about your political agenda, but we both know Dolley dragged you along to visit."

"I truly can't help but take offense at that," James said, his brow furrowed, and he shook his head. Regardless, he wore an amused smile. "As though I'm unable to cross partisan lines for an injured acquaintance?"

"Aw, aren't we friends by now?" Y/N asked, plastering on a pout, and James laughed.

"I suppose so." He squeezed Dolley's shoulder, an eyebrow raised, and she shuffled aside, inadvertently crowding into Angelica's space. When James took a step forward, Y/N's eyebrows shot up at the bouquet of flowers he held, the envelope attached to them. "These are for you, on behalf of our entire campaign."

She had to shift in her seat to turn and take them from him in her right hand, but as she did so, she grimaced at the dull pain in her shoulder when she moved it. Thomas's hand shot out to support her before he realized where he was, and he stopped himself short, pulling his hands back into his lap with a wince.

"Thanks so much, James, these are beautiful," Y/N said, inhaling deeply as she held the flowers up to her nose. "Who picked them out?"

"I did." The sound of Thomas's voice among the group surprised her. Her eyebrows were raised when she turned to him, and she struggled to stop her small smile from widening at his words.

"Well then, thank you, Secretary Jefferson. I appreciate the gesture."

"It's the least I could do, Ms. L/N." She pressed her lips together; it was all she could do not to laugh at the formality in his tone. He gave her a sympathetic smile, but as she met his gaze, it was doting. "I'm terribly sorry that this happened. Please, don't hesitate to reach out if there's anything further we can do to support you."

She cocked a brow. "Care to pay my medical bills?"

"Gladly."

"Wait, seriously?" Her eyes widened. "I was joking, but I'm holding you to that."

"As you should," Thomas said reasonably, giving a shrug. "I understand how difficult this has gotta be for you, and for your family, too. We'd like to support you in any way we can."

While his gentle tone made her smile, holding his stare, but Alex scoffed loudly.

"Oh my god, don't fall for that, Y/N," he interjected. Y/N raised a brow. "He's just trying to avoid a lawsuit. Or convince you not to start bitching online about how he almost killed you."

"He didn't almost kill me," she huffed. She glanced back hesitantly at Thomas, and he was watching her with guilt heavy in his expression. "One of his supporters did. It's not the same thing."

"Yeah, they tried to kill you in his name. Why are you giving him a pass?"

"If you shot him in my name, would it be my fault?" She pinned Alex with an expectant stare, and he huffed. "You know it wouldn't, and this is no different. If you're gonna spend the next few minutes attacking him, go wait in the hall until he and James leave. My head already hurts, so I refuse to listen to you picking a fight."

Alex folded his arms. "Why aren't you kicking him out?"

"Because you're the one getting worked up, right now," Y/N said matter-of-factly, but Thomas sighed.

"I understand that you all want me gone. I won't impose," he said, and when he began to push his chair out, Y/N and Mira wore identical, dismayed expressions.

"No, no, you aren't imposing!" Mira insisted. "Please, stay."

"'S alright, Mira. I know when I'm not wanted. I should be goin'," he said, giving her a reassuring smile, but his nervous gaze flickered back to Y/N. "Unless, of course, you've got any more grievances you wanna air? I'd be happy to listen, but I don't wanna overstay my welcome."

"Actually," Y/N started, pursing her lips. Thomas's tense demeanor softened as she went on, "I have a few more things I'd like to say before you go. You aren't off the hook just yet." Though her expression was hard, Thomas was struggling not to grin at her not sending him away. Y/N looked back around to her friends and family. "If you'd all give me another minute? I need to get some things off my chest."

While everyone obliged her easily, turning to give her space as they started toward the exit, Dolley and Lafayette shared a knowing look. Y/N's nurse smiled. "I'm glad to see you awake and feeling better. I'll be on call if you need me."

"Thanks so much," Y/N said quietly, and Lafayette caught her eye with a grin.

"We will be back in a few minutes, chérie. Do not do anything rash."

Y/N's eyebrows shot up when he shot Thomas a wink before following everyone else out, and they sat another moment in silence until the door finally fell shut. Thomas breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, now that everyone's outta here, you gonna rip me a new one?" he asked playfully, and Y/N rolled her eyes, finally letting herself grin as she turned to him, leaning fully back against her bed.

"Don't tempt me," she warned, and he laughed lightly. "But I just wanted another minute with you. If you want to go or have somewhere to be, I'll understand."

"I'm gonna stay as long as you're lookin' to let me," he replied, and when he rested his hand on the bed's rail, she took it in hers.

"I don't know how long I can believably pretend to be yelling at you, but I don't want you to leave just yet. I'm really glad you're here." She swallowed hard, glancing down at where their hands were linked. "I've just... been so distant recently. Is it silly to say I was afraid I was going to die without seeing you first?"

He let out a light, breathy laugh; the look in his eyes was akin to relief. "Jesus, I hope not, 'cause I've been up all night worryin' about the same thing."

Her eyebrows shot up, and he gave her a sheepish smile. "You've been up all night?"

"How was I supposed to sleep?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. He shook his head in disbelief. "You have no idea how scared I was, sweetheart."

"I can imagine," she said with a sigh. "Thank you for coming. I'm sure it wasn't easy to get in here with my friends all ready to bite your head off."

"Mmh, not exactly," he agreed, tone dry, and when she caught sight of his irked expression, she raised an eyebrow. "I didn't get too warm of a welcome."

"How'd you convince them to let you stay here until I woke up, anyway?" she asked, and a lopsided grin split his expression. He shrugged. "Don't tell me you just waltzed in here, and they let you into my room. I know them better than that."

"Lafayette vouched for me."

"Seriously?" Y/N furrowed her brow. "And said what?"

"That it'd be best for you to be able to get everything off your chest before everyone came in to see you." He shrugged, and though Y/N rolled her eyes, his smile was smug. "Guess I'm lucky you're takin' pity on me, huh?"

"Really, Jefferson. I should consider being a little harsher next time. Really making you pay for being thoughtful enough to show up here and comfort me when I'm terribly injured." She bit her lip, eyeing him tentatively. "Hey, can anybody see us right now? Are there any windows or security cameras I'm missing?"

He shook his head, brow furrowed. "Uh-uh. Relax. It's just you and me, alright?"

"Then will you come sit with me?"

His eyebrows shot up when she looked at him hopefully, shifting over on her bed, but it wasn't until a moment later that he answered, his words hesitant. "I dunno, sweetheart. I know you're in a lotta pain, and I don't wanna accidentally hurt you. You should just rest."

"Please?" The look in her eyes was hopeful, and she ran her thumb across his knuckles. "I just... wanna be held. I know you've gotta go soon, but..."

She couldn't finish her sentence, instead just trailing off, watching him with pleading eyes, and he sighed. "God, I hate not bein' able to say no to you. Move over."

Y/N grinned when he stood, delicately propping himself up onto the edge of her bed and swinging his legs up beside hers. His left arm brushed against her right shoulder, and she winced, trying to prop herself up onto the side of his torso. His hands found her waist. "This okay?" he asked softly, shifting her to lay against his chest, and her smile went soft.

"Yeah. This is good." She hummed contentedly when he absentmindedly began tracing patterns into her hip through her hospital gown. "Thanks for being here. Not many people would be willing to fight through my friends just to see me for a few minutes."

"Well, I did have some help," he murmured, his lips just above her ear. "I mean, since you gave Mira the power of attorney and all, she got the final say on who was allowed to come in and see you. You know she's got a soft spot for me."

Y/N giggled. "I guess your whole 'golden boy' act does come in handy once in a while."

When Thomas huffed, she could feel his warm breath tickle the side of her neck. She shivered. "Y'know what, I'm gonna let that one go, but only 'cause you're injured."

"Or because you know I'm right," she teased, craning her neck back to look at him with a wide smile, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

"Mhm, 'cause I'm secretly a terrible person, huh?"

"Good thing we agree." She pushed herself up to lightly kiss the underside of his jaw. "I just wish you could stay longer. I know you probably have a million things to get done, but I hate that you have to use some bullshit excuse just to come see me."

"So do I," he sighed.

"I just wish we could do... whatever this is in the light of day."

"What if we could?"

"Thomas," Y/N groaned lightly. "It's a nice thought, but you know it isn't possible. You aren't going to drop out of the race for president, and I'm not going to stop covering the campaign. I like my job too much. I don't want to give that up."

"And I'd never ask you to," he assured her, "'S just a nice thought."

"Yeah," she agreed reluctantly, her gaze downcast. A beat passed in silence; they were both too caught up in their own heads to pay attention to the steady click of the IV drip within a foot of them, the buzz of the dying LED lights overhead. Finally, Y/N said, "Is there any chance you can come up with some excuse to come back and visit me tomorrow? I'll have my phone on me, so I can text you when the coast is clear."

"I'd love that," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. He hadn't realized it, but she'd begun to doze off, her eyes fluttering shut as she laid her head against the warmth of his body, the steady feeling of his heartbeat in his chest lulling her to sleep.

"Thank you," she murmured, covering his hand with hers. "I love..." She trailed off when she could feel him inhale sharply, his chest rising against her back, and despite her fatigue, she knew enough to hold her tongue. "Love that you could make it here. Thanks again."

"'S been my pleasure."

She didn't respond, content to just rest in his arms, and his smile was soft as he looked down at her. Several minutes ticked by, and the pair was at peace in the sterile environment, relaxed despite the bullet wound in her shoulder, the danger she'd been in hours before, despite the tension that always hung heavy in their dynamic, unavoidable with the risk they were taking being together.

"Thanks for keeping me around, sweetheart," he whispered, and his words were met only with the heavy sound of her breathing, leveling out as she drifted further and further from consciousness. He swallowed hard. "I love you."

She was too far gone to hear him.

A few more minutes later, the room's door clicked open, and Thomas's eyes widened, realizing the position he was about to be found in. His eyes widened.

"Y/N, is it alright if everyone else—?" Lafayette emerged from the doorway alone, cutting himself with a soft smile when he caught sight of Y/N laid against Thomas's body, perfectly at peace in his embrace. "Ah, Thomas. I am glad to see zat she is being well taken care of," he said softly, a teasing lilt to his voice. Thomas couldn't take it too personally. "Is she... asleep?"

He nodded. "Has been for a few minutes. Think she's been needin' some real rest," he replied, warm gaze drifting down to Y/N's calm, absent face. "Y'know, the kind that doesn't come from faintin' in pain and some anesthetics."

Lafayette chuckled lightly, folding his arms. "I think zat it is for ze best," he said. "But I was sent in 'ere to see whether or not Y/N was done, ah... lecturing you for ze 'arms done. I am not sure I 'ave any way to tell everyone zat she is still busy in 'ere."

"Sounds like it's time for me to head out, then, huh?" Lafayette nodded, and Thomas looked down with a reluctant smile. "Alright, gimme a minute. Send everyone in when I get out of here, yeah?"

"Of course." Lafayette departed without another word, appearing to be rather pleased with the scene before him. Thomas sighed, trying to shift Y/N off of himself without rattling her, and when he gently laid her shoulders back down onto the mattress, her head resting to one side on the pillow, he leaned down to kiss her forehead softly.

"I'll be back for you tomorrow, okay?" he whispered, disregarding entirely the fact that she didn't hear a word of it. He finally lifted himself off of the side of the bed. "Goodnight, Y/N."

His footsteps stalled another moment as he stood beside her; his tender gaze swept down the entirety of her stature, but it was clouded with remorse when he once again glanced to the bloodied bandage wrapped around her shoulder. He swallowed the lump of guilt in his throat.

He turned off the lights on his way out.

[struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor]

Lisstennnn I love the boys but tbh if u notice the western artists they collab with or “look up to” are very mainstream, the type to make songs you hear whilst shopping at the mall u know what I mean? Like no doubt they have a couple bangers but cmon anyone that has worked in any clothes store is TIRED of artists like Ed Sheeran, Halsey, Shawn Mendes, Justin Beiber etc. And I hate to see the boys having them as inspirations bc they end up w songs like PTD which are not very good compared to their songs in Korean and I feel like Army is just giving them the views, trying to reach the “goals” and shit withou really liking the songs which isn’t good cause they are just gonna keep making songs like thisss😭 I love my boys but PTD was kinda eeh for me. Lmk what u think 🥺

Hi! Thank for the ask, first of all. People rarely read or respond to my posts, but tbh I can't blame them. I don't even think my posts always show up in the BTS tag lol, and I talk too much. Anyway...

I find it super ironic that BTS seem to love artists that make the kind of music a lot of Armys don't want. The thought of a BTSxJB collab makes me shudder. I love the music BTS make but often not the music BTS listen to. Still, Agust D, RM's music and collabs, Hope World, some of the vocal line's solo songs (especially V's) are not at all the kind of music they've recently said they listen to. Is the music they make and the music they listen to inherently different, or are they just making music that fits their "concept" and the musical identity they've carved for themselves and not necessarily the kind of music they want to do?

This also makes me think of something else, which is that Army literally goes on and on about Black Swan, but BTS have never once said they love the song. I honestly think it's another one of their songs they enjoy but don't think about much. I bet most of them prefer Butter over Black Swan. Some of their favorite songs from MOTS:7 were Zero O'Clock and Louder Than Bombs (both mellow tracks). That's kind of why it's not surprising that they're going in this direction - not only because of the popularity thing, but because they do like more generic pop music, and don't mind doing it (especially if it's only three songs so far).

I think BTS will be surprised by the reaction to this song. When Butter came out I (and some people) didn't like it, but the comment section here and on reddit was mostly positive. The song is cool and trendy. But that's not the case this time around. PTD sounds like a HSM song, and that's not exactly what's fashionable right now. On here and on reddit people have been dissing the track a lot. I don't know what's going to happen in terms of streams and stuff, because Army is powerful and the song might be well received by the GP, but I think they will reach the lowest point in their careers since Dynamite. I don't think the song will bring in a huge number of fans. It won't be a "flop" or whatever, and it's not a title track so it's fine that it doesn't perform super well, but it might hurt them more than benefit them in the long run. They're a lot of disgruntled fans right now and I think their image will take a slight hit. This is the culmination of fans' worries and complaints about their English releases. This time they don't have the excuse of the song being good or a bop. It's truly not a bop, so even Army is outright complaining.

I know people want the song to not do well so BTS can learn a lesson, but even if the song doesn't do well they won't change their current direction. Once the pandemic is over they might drop another Korean album like MOTS:7 and BE, but these albums still have songs that are more poppy and generic than desired. Their next album will have people complaining and their next songs will be blander than the norm too. This is just BTS now imo. Fans talk about ON and Black Swan - and, yes, those songs are amazing and creative - but MOTS:7 also had tracks like Louder Than Bombs and WABP: The Eternal, which, to me are American-y enough. However, fans like those tracks. Current fans don't mind the more American pop sound as long as there are meaningful lyrics and BTS put their own spin to it. BTS will never go back to their Wings era. I don't mind that because I love LY: Answer and MOTS:7 is my favorite album (even though I don't like all the songs). The point I'm trying to make is that, no, BTS won't stop releasing Butter-style music. We can hope that with PTD not doing amazing (it will probably do much better than expected), BTS might try to release a darker song or something.

Sorry for the rant. What do you think?

PS: Am I the only one that felt genuinely embarrassed for BTS watching the MV and listening to the song? I know it's stupid but this was the first time I felt kind of embarrassed being Army. There's nothing wrong with liking 1D or HSM, but, yeah...

Thanks for the ask :)

[cherrybracelets]

Ghost Girl

intro // gg masterlist

spencer reid x bau!reader

word count: 2.5k // warnings: typical cm violence, nothing too graphic in this part! 

summary: before your time in the bau, you worked on a very secretive and dangerous task force. you thought that life was in your past, almost four years later without a word of who you used to be. that was until today, when  everything came back to haunt you. 

an: this is just a small lil intro to this fic!! obvi this is regurgitating the emily story line i know they sound similar but once we get into details it will be different! lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

There were days where you could forget. Days where the memories somehow faded to the back of your mind. You were able to pretend you were okay. 

Today was not one of those days. 

You were with the team in Seattle this week, working on a suspected serial killer couple. The case was one of the more open and shut ones; not many twists and turns, the duo made it quite easy to find them. Sometimes there were cases like that, played right by the book, making the jobs of you and your fellow profilers quite easy. 

So as you stood in the conference room of the Seattle Field Office, taking down photos from the boards as the team prepared to leave, having no idea how the next 24 hours of your life would unfold. 

“Hey, did you remember to call Casey and let her know we’re on our way home?” Spencer asked you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your cheek. You could feel Derek rolling his eyes behind you, a habit you had gotten used to since Spencer was not shy with PDA. 

“Um, yeah, she said she’d stay until we landed so she can make sure they all get dinner,” you responded, assuring Spencer that your plethora of pets were being well taken care of by your pet sitter. 

Spencer smiled happily, taking his warmth away and heading out to the hall. You watched him leave, your boyfriend of two years now, the room feeling so much emptier without his presence. 

You felt your cell vibrating in your back pocket, taking your mind away from already missing your boyfriend, even though he literally walked out of the room ten seconds ago. You pulled your phone out cautiously, hoping it wasn’t an emergency. 

You didn’t recognize the number, but you instantly knew the area code. Boston. 

You felt sick to your stomach as you continued to watch the call go unanswered. Who the hell would be calling you from Boston? 

You finally answered after what seemed like hours, carefully closing the door to the conference room and locking it so you could be alone. Whoever was calling, it couldn’t be good news. And you couldn’t let anyone else hear. 

“Who is this?” You whispered into the phone, your voice shaky and harsh. 

“It’s me.” 

The voice held the same nervous tone that yours did. You felt your heart stopped as you heard his voice, a sound you thought you would never hear for the rest of your life. 

“Wade… what’s going on?” 

“I’m sorry to have to call you about this, (Y/N). But you need to know.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“Zack Philips escaped from prison last night.” 

There was silence, for what seemed like an eternity. Your brain flipped over the words, not sure how to handle the information that was just shared. 

“How is that possible?” You finally managed to get out, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“We believe he may have had someone helping him on the inside. Me and Alicia are trying to figure it out.” 

“This can’t be happening. He was supposed to rot in there,” you gasped, your eyes swelling with tears as horrible memories of him came flooding back to your reality. 

The sound of Hotch shaking the locked door handle, trying to enter the room you had barricaded yourself in. You quickly hung up the phone, trying your best to compose yourself as you unlocked the door and let your supervisor in. 

Apparently you aren’t as good of a liar as you thought, because he could immediately sense the tension clung to the air. He closed the door behind him, assuming the sensitive nature of your worries. 

Aaron Hotchner was one of two people that knew about your past before you came to the BAU. You were hoping that you would never have to tell another soul outside of the task force you worked with, but it seemed that Aaron would have to know if you were to work in his Unit. 

“Wade Jefferies just called me,” you admitted, still shaking your head in denial. 

“Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” You had a sense that he somehow already knew what you were going to say, a certain look in his eye as if he knew it was only a matter of time before your past came back to bite you all. 

“He escaped prison.” 

“How long ago?” 

“Last night, sometime. I’m not sure when, exactly.” 

The two of you shared a glance, a mutual look of ‘Oh, shit.’ 

“Do we need to involve the team?” 

The team. You couldn’t even imagine them involved in this. It was your battle before you came here, and you promised yourself you would never let them get wrapped up in it. Especially Spencer. It was hard lying to him every day about who you were, where you had been… but you had no choice. And you still had no choice. There was no way you could involve them. 

“I don’t think we need to do that yet, Hotch. We don’t even know where he is. There’s a chance he could just go into hiding.” 

“You know Zack Philips better than anyone. Do you believe that’s what he will do?” 

No. He would come look for you. There was no doubt in your mind. 

“I’m not sure. But it’s not this team’s responsibility either way. Wade is getting together with the other members of the task force. I’m sure we’ll be able to track him down.” You avoided his eyes, knowing if he caught a glimpse at your face, you wouldn’t be able to lie for much longer. Hotch nodded cautiously at you, not entirely believing your story, but knowing better than to press the conversation any further. 

Although Hotch knew details of the case, there were still many things he was in the dark about. If he knew just who this man was, there wasn’t a chance in hell he would let you handle things on your own. Part of you was glad there were parts of this you kept hidden, all to yourself. Only you knew what he was truly capable off, which was why it was extremely dire that you found him. 

∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗

Spencer knew there was something off with you. He had been dating you for two years, and you’d been living together for almost one. There was no way he wouldn’t notice a dramatic shift in your demeanor. It was even more suspicious watching Hotch glance over at you every few minutes on the plane, a look of concern pasted on his face. 

Something was wrong, something that you were refusing to share with Spencer. 

He tried to get you to talk, begging and pleading for you to share whatever was on your mind. But all you would give him is a slight smile, assuring him you just weren’t feeling well. 

“The time change, it always makes me feel yucky,” you assured him as you walked into your house, letting him know you just needed a hot shower and a good night's sleep. 

Spencer kissed you before you headed up the stairs, watching you closely as you ascended into your bedroom and walked anxiously into the bathroom. He heard the water turn on, and he felt a little better, trying to convince himself that there wasn’t some big secret you were hiding. 

What Spencer didn’t hear was the quiet phone call you tried to make as the steam from the shower filled up your master bathroom. You dialed Wade’s number anxiously, tapping your foot on the tiled floor as the phone rang. 

“Are you someplace private?” He asked, no time for kind greetings or small talk. 

“Yeah, I’m alone. What have you found out?” 

“According to a trusted source, Zack got on a plane this morning that’s headed for Washington.” 

“He’s coming to us. Should be easier to find him,” you said, trying to convince yourself you all had a chance. You brought him down once before, it was possible you could do it again, right? 

“I talked to the Director. He wants all of us back together, working non stop until we find him.” 

“I can’t disappear, Wade. What am I supposed to tell the team?” You looked around nervously, hoping to god you were quiet enough so Spencer couldn’t hear. 

“I actually think you should stay right where you are. Chances are he will stake us out, and if he sees you…” Wade trailed off, not wanting to say what he was afraid of, but you knew. If he saw you, if he knew the truth… none of you would make it out alive. 

“Is there any indicator that he knows who I am? That I’m alive?” 

“As far as we’re concerned, he believes that Lindsey Grimes died in prison.” 

You flinched when he said her name, the person that you once were so long ago. You had laid her to rest when you joined the BAU, convinced there was no way she could come back to haunt you. 

“(Y/N)... we won’t let him hurt you,” your former boss assured, his voice sounded confident enough to make you calm down a little bit. 

“Call me if anything happens.” 

“I will. I need you to take care of yourself, okay? Be cautious, but don’t be suspicious. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

He ended the call, allowing you to set your phone down and shut your eyes. All of this had seemed like one continuous nightmare, your brain unable to believe any part of this was real. You had to trust Wade and your former team, though. They kept you safe all those years ago, you were sure they could do it again. They had too. 

There was so much more at stake, now. You weren’t some 22 year old agent begging to make a name for yourself, all alone in the world and willing to take on any project that came your way. You had a family, somebody you loved. You couldn’t let Spencer get hurt, you would die before you’d let Zack near him. 

A part of you wondered if you should tell him, let him in on that part of your life. Maybe he could help. Maybe they all could… 

But if something happened to any of them, you would never forgive yourself. You had to protect them first. 

∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗∗

Two days had gone by without another word. Somehow, you were working a case that kept you in DC, which made you even more nervous. You were hoping that if you got out of the city, you and the whole team would be much safer. If Zack really was in DC, you were better off as far away as possible. 

But you couldn’t control where the BAU was needed. And besides, two days without a word was good, right? If you were in danger, if something was wrong, they would tell you. At least that’s what you spent the last 48 hours trying to convince yourself. 

You had almost pushed it out of your mind, able to do your job without distraction. That was until you received a text from Wade that made your heart stop. 

‘We need to meet, now. I’ll text you coordinates. Be there in 10.’ 

You looked around at your team, carefully chipping away at your current case, no idea of the impending doom you faced. You looked around for Hotch, needing to at least explain to him why you needed to leave. 

Once securing his approval, you snuck out of the office, texting Spencer that you were making an emergency coffee run and would be back soon. He responded with a quick, ‘Ok, love you!’ that made you feel nauseous as you drove away from the team and to the location Wade provided. 

When you arrived at the small park, you found a bench not too far from your car and sat down, eagerly awaiting your fate. You looked around for Wade, unsure if you would even recognize him after four years.

After a few minutes of waiting, you started to feel uneasy. He was late. Wade was never late, especially to things he planned. 

Something was wrong about this. You looked around nervously, not another soul in sight. You started to slowly stand up from the bench, hoping to make a quick path to your car and get out of here before anyone noticed. 

But it was too late. You felt a strong hand grip your shoulder as you began to stand up, fingers digging into your flesh as they pushed you back down onto the bench. 

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” 

You turned towards the hidden man, confirming your suspicions. You could tell it was him, just by his touch. It was rough, not an ounce of kindness seeped through him. 

“Zack…” you whispered, refusing to look him in the face. 

“Lindsey… oh, that’s not right, is it?” He chuckled, walking around the bench and taking a seat next to you. 

“How did you find me, Zack? You’ve been out less than a week…” 

“Oh, (Y/N),” he smiled, turning towards you and cupping a cold hand on your face. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” 

“How long have you known?” 

“Well, I’ll be honest, you had me fooled for quite some time. Most of the evidence could’ve come from anyone… but one day, my lawyer was going over something with me, and there it was. So small, I should’ve missed it. Hell, I probably had, a hundred times. But that day… that day I was thinking about you. Because that was the day they told me you’d died.” 

He looked up at you, a hint of real pain shimmering in his evil eyes. It felt genuine, a part of you so badly wanting to believe there was still a piece of humanity in him. But you knew how capable he was of faking emotion, how he could break you down with just a small glance… 

“My lawyer looked at me and said, ‘They know about Buffalo.’ And that’s when I knew. Because you, my sweet (Y/N)... you were the only person that knew about that.” 

“What do you want, Zack?” 

“Well, I’m feeling exceptionally generous today, so I’d like to give you some options.” He smiled devilishly at you, any semblance of humanity you thought he had drained in that moment. 

“You can come with me. We can chat for a bit, you can own up to every lie you ever told from that beautiful place of yours. And then, I’ll kill you of course.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, making you flinch as he touched you. “If that doesn’t sound good, I can kill every single member of your little team one by one until you give in. And I’ll start with that pretty little boy of yours… what’s his name, Spencer?” 

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” you snapped, the thought of him anywhere near Spencer making you shake. 

“Do you think I don’t have people on my side, (Y/N)? If you hurt me, there are fifty men ready to finish this job.” 

You wanted so desperately to not believe him, to think you could end this all with one bullet in his head. But you knew the power he had over people, the influx of his followers willing to give their life to him. He was right. If you touched him, you’d be facing an army of unknowns trying to harm all of you. 

There was no choice. You had to protect your team. You had to protect Spencer. 

“I’ll go with you. Just promise you won’t hurt them.” 

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Falling Ch. 7

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader [and a few more to come]

Summary: For a moment you had something good, something wonderful. But moments pass. Now, left with nothing but the ashes of a life and a love you fought so hard for, you find yourself in a free fall. Who will you be once you hit the bottom? [Sequel to Only For A Moment but can be read independently.]

Warnings: Loss, grief, drug/alcohol abuse, violence 

A/N: Hello again! So this is another shorter chapter but there is a lot happening. I think you can expect shorter chapters for the most part as we roll forward with this story (along the lines of the majority of Only For A Moment) because that’s easier for me to maintain. 

There’s also some hints here about what we can expect from our reader in the future, lmk if you have thoughts! 

TAGS ARE OPEN

“Oh for fucks sake!” Rocket yelled as your comm cut out. It was just as likely that you were dead as it was that you turned it off. 

And if you weren’t dead he was tempted to fix that little problem. 

“Nebula, do you have eyes on Trouble,” he found that was a better name for you. 

“I’m a little busy!” She yells back. 

He massages his temples as he tries to keep himself from outright screaming. 

In moments like this, he actually misses the old you. At least when you spent your days in bed, drunk, silent, moving through the ship like some sad ghost he wasn’t worried you were going to get him killed. 

He really should have appreciated those weeks of peace more. Never should have taken you to Contraxia, never should have coaxed you out of bed. What he should have done was leave well enough alone and just make sure you didn’t drink yourself into a quiet death. 

But no. He just had to get involved. 

Now, he was going to have to get out of this pod and find you. That was not the plan. He was supposed to stay in the damn pod. He was the eye in the sky. 

But no. No, you had to go and make this complicated. 

“I got it!” You say, comms coming in clear, just as he’s about to head down. 

“What the fuck do you-”

“Did I stutter?” You huff, clearly running. “I got the payload and I’m heading to the drop point and-” Rocket can make out the sound of a large weapon behind you. “I’d really appreciate you being there right about now!”

“Neb-” He begins. 

“En route,” she cuts him off. 

He brings the pod down just as you and Nebula make it on the platform, behind you both a concerning amount of muscle in hot pursuit. 

“What happened to quiet in and out?!” He screams. 

“Just open the door rat!” Nebula yells. He notes that your arms were full of more than just the case you were all being paid to retrieve. 

Between you and Nebula, he was pretty sure he was headed toward a much earlier grave. Grumbling he lays down cover fire as he lowers enough for you both to board the pod. 

“Woo!” You exclaim as Rocket coaxes the pod as fast as it can go toward the Benetar. “Not too bad.” 

“You realize you’re bleeding profusely, yes?” Nebula asks. 

Rocket glances back. He’d assumed the blood on your face was from someone else. Now he can see a deep gash splitting the right side of your face from forehead to below your cheekbone. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Ca’al was aiming to take my head though, so I’d say I came out better than expected.” 

“Can’t imagine why he’d want your head,” Rocket rolls his eyes as he docks the pod. 

“It’s a mystery,” you say as the hatch opens.

“Wait…” Nebula says, hovering in the pod after the two of you have disembarked. 

“Ergons take honor pretty seriously,” Rocket says. “Which is why ‘not fucking the mark’s wife’ is high on the list of things not to do when you’re trying to keep a job low key.” 

“There was a list?” You quip, turning to face them, smiling despite the wound. 

“I’m beginning to think all Terrans are like this,” Nebula says low to him. 

“Possibly.” You drop the contents in your arms, kicking a case toward Rocket. “That’s what we came for. And I’ll split the rest if someone will help with this,” you gesture to your face.

“I’m tempted to let you bleed out,” Rocket says as he opens the case. Five tubes filled with glowing viscous liquid are nestled tightly inside. 

“Gonna have to wait for a bigger wound for that,” you say as you have a seat. 

“With your track record, Trouble, I don’t think I’ll have to wait long.”

You shrug, “I’m apparently like a cockroach.”

“What does that mean?” Nebula asks as she examines the cut.

“Very hard to get rid of,” you hiss the last word. 

“Are they formidable beasts?” 

“They’re Earth vermin,” Rocket says as he takes inventory of your haul. He hated to admit that it was impressive.  Whatever your shortcomings, you were an exceptional thief--he had to respect that at least. 

“Same thing,” you say standing. “I mean, look at you.”

“Very funny,” he smiles despite himself. 

“This is likely going to scar,” Nebula says. 

You shrug, “It’ll just enhance my roguish charm.”

“And piss off the Captain,” Rocket grumbles as he locks the case you’d all been paid to retrieve into one of the storage crates. 

“So you admit I’m charming?” He throws a sideways glance at you as Nebula forces your smirking face back to her. “Ow!”

“Who said you were charming?” Rocket asks. “I just don’t want any lectures about ethics and safety from Cap.”

“Which, Cap?” 

“Either.” He inspects a container of very high-grade ammo. “How’d you know where this shit was? No way it was just out in the open.”

You peek around an exasperated Nebula once more, “There are benefits to fucking the mark’s wife.”

“Stay still!” Nebula snaps. “You’re lucky you didn’t lose the eye.”

Rocket shakes his head. Lucky may be a better nickname than Trouble. 

The way you managed to walk a razor edge, never quite tipping one way or the other was impressive. And every job you’d been in on over the last eight months ended up in a payday at least twice what they’d bargained for. Still, there was an all too familiar air of self-destruction about everything you did. Like you wanted something to tip you, slide the scales just a bit past no return. 

When he looks back he notices the slightest tremor in your right hand. 

Back on earth, he’d seen it a few times, mainly when emotions were high. No one else seemed to notice it, how each time the air rippled just a bit as some of your hold on that insane telekinetic ability of yours slipped. 

These days, more often than not, it meant you needed a drink. 

“There,” Nebula declares. “That’s the best I can do.” 

When she stepped back he could see that Nebula’s best was actually pretty good. The gash had been reduced to a raised bright pink stripe bisecting your left brow, stopping in the middle of your cheek. 

“Thanks, Nebula,” you say sincerely. A whir comes from the main cabin as a bottle flies into your open right hand. 

“So, how much we got?” You ask as you open the bottle. 

“Can probably get 4,000 credits from the ammo alone,” he holds out his hand and you pass him the bottle. No reason he can’t benefit from your vices. 

“Hear that, Nebula? At least 2k each for the ammo.”

“Excuse me?” He passes the bottle back to you. 

“Did you help fix my face?” 

“My ship. I get a cut of everything, Trouble.” 

“I only helped because I was getting half,” Nebula manages something between a grimace and a smile. 

Rocket playfully rolls his eyes, “Then you can take her half.” 

“The disrespect,” you say on a sigh. “Bleed for your crew, then they cut you out.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Such a martyr,” he says over his shoulder as he heads toward the deck. “We’ll get the best deal on Paramatar. We’ll get paid for the case then head there.” 

-

Paramatar was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. 

The money was too good and the distractions too plentiful. Not Contraxia levels of plentiful, but what it lacked in variety it made up for in cost. Everything save for information and ammo was cheap. 

He should have kept an eye on you. Or at least asked Nebula to since she couldn’t help but stay sober. 

Yes, luck seemed to favor you more times than not. You were also heartier then most humans from what he could tell and you’d picked up on how things worked out here quickly. Still, there were substances and situations you didn’t know were better left alone. 

Or maybe you did know and chose to ignore sense. 

Who could say? Because when Nebula found you half dead after two days there wasn’t anyone around who knew what happened. 

“We should take her home,” Nebula said after the medic left with assurances that you weren’t about to die. “They can help.” 

He doubted that. Still, he knew it was the best call. Plus, he could use some peace. 

-

Warm morning sun filtered in through the window, making the few silvery strands in Bucky’s hair shine. 

He sat between your legs on the living room floor with his back against the couch. As your fingers combed through the silky mass of hair, his fingers massaged your right calf, still sore from Okoye’s brutal training the day before. 

This had become your ritual most mornings. 

Usually Bucky was the first out of bed, proving that he was far more a morning person than you’d ever manage to become. He’d start coffee, put on some music, and slip back into bed to wake you before your alarm went off. 

It was the best way to begin your day.

Once up you’d down a cup of coffee, talk about nothing, then by cup two he’d be sitting just as he was now--humming along to whatever song played while you methodically sectioned off his hair to braid it back. 

The first morning you’d done it on a whim. You frequently found your fingers tangled in those beautiful dark locks and had just happened to put it in a french braid. 

That evening he’d casually mentioned how good it was to not have his hair in the face while he worked. 

You knew he’d never actually ask. He was constantly concerned he would somehow inconvenience you or be a burden as it was. So since then you’d just begun doing it, without coaxing or preamble. 

When you finished he let out a long content sigh, leaning his cheek against your bare thigh. 

“Thank you,” he placed a kiss on your knee. 

“Of course,” you leaned over, kissing the tender flesh just behind his ear. He hummed with satisfaction, turning his head to look up at you. The morning light turned his eyes a beautiful icy grey-blue.

“I love you, doll,” he says, eyes crinkling as he smiles. 

“I love-” you hiss in a breath as pain tears through your skull. 

He doesn’t react, doesn’t move, just sits between your legs smiling… Before he turns to dust. 

You try to call his name, scream, anything but the all-consuming thrum of your power prevents you from doing anything but sit in frozen agony. 

Like an angry beast it thrashes inside your skull, zinging down your spine, until every nerve ending in your body burns with it. 

Stop, you don’t know to whom or what you’re begging but it’s all you can manage. 

The edges of your vision begin to blur, your warm Wakandan living room fading to an endless swirl of colors and shapes before shadow crept in. Those shadows swelled consuming everything leaving you in an endless, familiar, void. 

By now, this place--realm, or whatever it was that your mind saw when your perception went beyond what you were capable of comprehending--was starting to feel familiar. When you last found yourself here, after a night of too much excess, you’d thought of it as The Nothing.

This time a different thought pushes its way in from somewhere in the abyss. 

Oblivion, it whispers. 

Yes. That felt right. The perfect word for this void that seemed to exist between all things. 

Absently, you wonder if you should feel fear rather than this strange sense of peace. Even the hunger that never left you, the howling need for power the stones planted in the marrow of your bones seemed sated, as though there was power enough hidden in the darkness.

Yes, that same whisper from nowhere and everywhere replies. 

Now, the fear comes. You will yourself back, forcing your mind to grasp for existence like a drowning man reaches for the surface.  

You shoot upright, gasping for air, squinting in the bright afternoon sun. 

Sun shone bright on your face. 

This was not your dim room on the Benatar.  

And… 

“About time,” Steve says groggily from a chair in the corner. 

“How?” You croak. 

He stands, stretching, and crosses the room to fill a glass of water from the decanter by your bed. You take it gratefully, though you feel the ache for something stronger. 

“Rocket and Nebula brought you back yesterday.” 

Yesterday.

Futility, you try to piece together a series of events. 

The three of you had landed on Paramatar, offloaded the haul, split the credits, and… Things got hazy after that. 

“Apparently, you’ve been unconscious for over three days,” he sat on the edge of the bed, looking you over. “You look like shit by the way.”

“Thanks,” you say, voice still rough. “You don’t look dewey either.” His hair had grown longer, his beard thick, the circles under his eyes spoke to too many sleepless nights. 

“Shocked you remember what I look like,” he snips. 

The shot hits its mark and guilt blooms in your chest. 

It had been at least 5 months since you’d spoken to him. Once you’d managed to make it back to something closer to a human you simply couldn’t stand the reminder that speaking to him brought, that you had to come back here eventually. You’d wanted to leave everything. Forget about everything you could manage to and become someone else. 

“Sorry,” you say, unable to look at him. 

“It’s ok,” his voice sounds distant. When you look at him his gaze is in the middle distance, elbows resting on his knees. “Maybe we all need space.” 

He sighs, “Clint left. We don’t know where he is.” 

“Natasha?”

“She’s hanging on. Tried to find him but didn’t have any luck.” 

“He’ll come back around,” you said with more conviction than you felt.  

“Yeah,” he plucks a non-existent piece of lint from his sweatpants. 

“I gotta head out soon, some kind of situation brewing in Brazil. Don’t know how long it’ll be,” he runs a hand over his face. “But I assume Rocket and Nebula won’t be hanging around too much longer since you’re up.”

So they had stuck around. More guilt bubbles up. 

“And I assume you’ll be going with them.” 

It isn’t a question but you answer anyway, “Yeah.” He nods, looking down at his hands. 

The silence hangs for several pregnant minutes. 

Your palms itch to reach out to him, your heart screams at you to say something, anything. But you just sit. 

“Y/N…” his voice almost makes you jump. “On the beach when we…” He clears his throat, “You told me I could go… If I needed to.” 

Your stomach drops and with it some of your control. 

You had said that. Told Steve that if he was too tired to keep fighting in this life that he had your blessing to leave. Your only request-

“But that I couldn’t go without saying goodbye.”

“Steve,” your voice trembles. 

He looks at you then, blue eyes unfathomably sad. Without hesitation you reach out for his hand. Gratitude floods you when he doesn’t pull away. 

“The same goes for you,” beneath his words is a barely contained flood of emotions. 

“This wasn’t-” 

“Don’t,” he shakes his head. Gently he touches the new scar by your eye.

You nod. This was one thing you knew you couldn’t hide from him no matter how hard you tried. It was a game he’d played for longer than you’d been alive. Tempting fate, daring it to kill him.

“Not without goodbye,” he says in almost a whisper. 

“Not without goodbye,” you promise and, begrudgingly, you mean it. 

He gives your hand a squeeze before he stands, places a kiss on top of your head, and turns to leave. 

“Oh and, Y/N…”

“Yeah?”

“Take a shower,” he turns and winks. 

“Fuck you, Rogers,” you smile despite everything. 

“Don’t die,” he says as he walks out. 

“You too.” 

With effort you drag your aching body from the bed and make your way to the bathroom. Under the bright light you groan. 

Steve had not been wrong. You did look like shit. 

The scar Ca’al had graced you with was still bright pink and puffy. Far from roguish or charming. Your cheek bones jutted out in sharp angles, lips pale and cracked. And your hair had grown long enough that the ends had started to curl, making you look like a tired crusty mop. 

Only after a minute do you even notice your eyes. They’d become a normal feature, whites shot through with bloody lightning cracks, the tear ducts an angry shade of red. 

As you observe yourself the mirror begins to tremble. 

“Fuck,” you groan, doubling over to press your forehead to the cool bathroom counter. 

Once you feel your control tighten just enough you head straight for your bag, praying that- 

Your fingers curl around a small smooth rectangular bottle and you let out a grateful breath. Rocket must have slipped it in. The Ciegrimitian liquor was strong, a touch bitter, and reminded you of roses. It was a favorite. 

After two swallows you feel the power inside you settle. 

You stare at the slightly iridescent golden pink liquid in the bottle shifting it so it swirls and catches the light. 

Maybe it was possible that you could re-learn to control your abilities, after all, you had gotten far more proficient through training with Bucky and later in Wakanda. But that was before the stones. 

If Shuri had been right, and she usually had been, your subconscious built barriers around your ability to protect you. While you could push those barriers by honing your ability, strengthening it like any muscle through time and focus, those barriers would and should always remain. The human mind could only be expected to process so much. 

Now, if you were right, those barriers were gone. You had no idea how to begin rebuilding them. If you did you weren’t sure you had the energy to care.

Maybe in time… 

Time. Weeks. Months. Years. All without Bucky. 

You’d rather lose yourself to that Oblivion than think about the stretch of life laid out before you.

As you lift the bottle to take another drink your fist closes on nothing. A few remaining inches of the bottom of the bottle clatter to the floor, spilling the contents. 

This wasn’t new, sometimes you lost your grip and your power… unmade something. This time though- 

A cry lodges itself in your throat, threatening to choke you. 

Around the edges of the piece on the floor and swirling in your hand between the glittering specks of dust--all that remains of the top of the bottle--is a deep undulating blackness. Not shadow, not darkness, a pure absence of everything. 

Oblivion, a whisper from somewhere far away calls in your mind. 

You bolt for the bathroom, slamming the door behind you, pressing your fist to your mouth to keep from screaming. 

It feels like hours before your heart stops trying to beat through your chest and you’re able to draw a full breath. Only then do you realize that, just like in that void, you don’t feel the hunger. Only then do you realize how silent your power is. 

The woman in the mirror stares at you with eyes that are less painfully bloodshot than before, the bruise-like hollows beneath them lighter. Her cheeks seem fractionally fuller.

The changes do not feel like an improvement. They feel like abomination. 

Demon. Maybe your mother’s husband and M’Baku had been on to something there. 

In the shower you decide to bury this. It was a fluke, or maybe even a hallucination. Maybe you were still recovering from the overdose, your body reacting poorly to another substance being put into it. That was it. 

“And she lives to make trouble another day!” Rocket calls out from in front of the TV as you make your way to the kitchen in the common area. 

“Much to your chagrin,” you say, opening a cabinet. 

“Coffee is in the one on the left,” Natasha pipes up. She takes a seat at the island. “I’ll take some too,” her wan smile doesn’t reach her own tired eyes. 

You open the can of Bustelo and breathe in the rich smell. It reminds you of better times--of bodega breakfasts before you knew there was such a thing as Hydra, of slow music-filled afternoons with Bucky. Quickly you blink away the tears threatening to fall. 

It was just coffee. 

For several minutes the only sound was the burble of the coffee pot and the drone of the flatscreen. The lack of conversation didn’t feel awkward so much as tired, everyone worn down by the grief and turmoil of the last 11 months. 

When the coffee was done you poured Natasha a cup, grabbing the half and half from the fridge, remembering her preference from when you’d been on the run with the fractured Avengers. She nodded her thanks, silently fixing her cup. 

Your own black brew sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, a hum of satisfaction slipping free. 

“I mean it’s good but I don’t know if it’s that good,” Natasha teases. 

“Haven’t had coffee since I left,” you say savoring another sip. Her brows raise at that. Honestly, the fact that you’d hardly missed it was more concerning than your increased drinking habit. 

“Maybe we should bring some,” Rocket sniffs the air. “Smells nice.” 

You meet his gaze, relief flooding you. A part of you had been afraid that you wouldn’t be welcome back on the Benatar. Honestly, you wouldn’t have blamed them if that was the case. Rocket called you Trouble for a reason after all. 

“I will try it,” Nebula announces as she takes a seat beside Natasha. 

“Alright. You?” Rocket nods. 

You pour a small amount for Nebula and use an espresso cup for Rocket. 

Nebula downs her’s in one go, face crinkling. You can’t help but laugh. 

“Bitter but palatable,” she says. 

“Just like you,” you quip. 

Nebula almost smiles, “Is there more?” 

The next few hours feel almost normal. No one talked about grief or loss. Natasha complained about the foods that were in short supply, Rocket bitched about prices on contraband being low. You told Natasha the weirder things about space, funny things, like hurling when the ship lost gravity for a few hours. Just friends catching up over coffee. 

Except it wasn’t. And, by the end, that fact had left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

By the time you got on the Benatar the next afternoon, that bitterness had fermented into rage that no amount of drink was going to cool. 

You needed to hit something. Hard.

TAGS

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[varibean]

Try Turning It Off And On Again

This was my piece for the tangled dreams zine that can be found here! I wanted to try writing a bit of Team Awesome/Dadgene so I hope y’all enjoy and lmk what you think! 

Read On AO3

It was no small exaggeration to say that, on paper, Varian was living a near perfect life. It was hard to imagine the boy-or as his father so often called him, ‘young man’-wanting for anything and for the most part he didn’t. After the battle with Zhan Tiri and the terrifying day of the eclipse, all of his dreams had been practically handed to him on a silver platter. Royal Engineer, renowned alchemist, best friend to several important people; with all that under his belt it was hard to imagine him not being in a constant state of euphoria over how well his life was playing out. Especially after his rocky start.

However if someone was to catch him in the early hours of the morning, they would be led to think that nothing had ever gone right in the history of his entire life.

It wasn’t a fact of Varian not being a morning person that was the issue but rather the sheer number of things he had to do once he got up. Early on in his career as royal engineer, Rapunzel thought it to be a great idea that he live in the palace with them. He’d been excited about the prospect at first; getting to live close with his greatest friends? Spending his days working on machines? Winding down at night in the grand ballroom for dinner? Absolutely perfect.

What he hadn’t considered was the fact that, by living in the palace, he was essentially on the clock twenty-four seven. Every morning when he woke up he skipped his usual routine of combing his hair or brushing his teeth in favor of opening up his bedroom door. That action was always greeted with a pile of neatly placed but still numerous scrolls, all left behind by the morning castle page. Each one was either a task, request, or order form filed by any and all who needed his service. It was only after he picked them all up and read through them that he continued his other morning tasks.

Life at the castle was more boring than he’d ever considered life in a castle could be. The whole place worked like clockwork and not the fun kind. The only thing that broke up the monotony of the place was Rapunzel, with her always chipper nature, and Eugene, who often tagged along with her despite his own duties as Captain of the Guard. But even that small burst of excitement was becoming less and less as time went on. Less Rapunzel, less Eugene, more work.

When Varian first arrived, everything had been wonderful and new. The scrolls at his doorstep were exciting projects, not boring chores. He had time for his own inventions and endeavors no matter how small they were, and most importantly, he got to spend time with his friends. All of those things were slowly fading, dwindling in time and importance as his daily tasks grew and grew. When writing his father about it, the older man simply replied that it was all part of growing up. Varian hated that. Still, the days dragged on, the ever steady pace of the castle completely uncaring to his internal plight of drudgery.

____

It was on a day of heavy rain and wind when Varian got the notice that something was wrong with the boilers. Nothing major enough to cause an entire village to explode, he’d been sure to put that safety precaution in place, but enough to warrant a knock on his door as he was preparing for lunch. No ham sandwich break for him today.

Apparently some rainwater had managed to seep through the shallow earth and gotten into the underground reservoir used to fill the tankers, in turn causing them to overflow. It wasn’t the overflow that was causing any structural issues, the machines wouldn’t rust overnight after all, but it was causing an imbalance in the chemical reaction. Too much water meant there was more liquid than the chemicals could properly heat, leaving everyone with lukewarm water. Tragic.

Duty called though and lunch would have to wait.

“Lukewarm water. Oh”, Varian said sarcastically to Ruddiger as he prepared to go down and find the leaky bit of earth that was causing the problem, “The horror of it all.”

The people of Corona could survive a day or two without hot water, but why should they when they had a Royal Engineer at their disposal? Nevermind the fact that he was a person too, who was currently missing out on his meal so that everyone else could wash their hands in comfort.

He bit back the desire to spout out another sarcastic comment to his furry companion, knowing that he was just being unreasonably bitter because he was hungry. Food would still be there when he got done; the longer he ignored the problem the worse it would get. In all fairness, it took priority. Besides, something like sealing up a bit of loose earth and diverting the dripping water from the tankers would be an easy fix. He could do it in his sleep.

____

Varian had been correct in assuming that the boiler problem would be an easy fix, maybe slightly tedious at best. What he hadn’t accounted for was how difficult it would be to simply get down to the reservoirs in the first place.

The problems started the second he stepped out of his room and into the main hallways of the castle. Ruddiger trotted beside him happily, the fat animal knowing that his only job was companionship and nothing more. Given the time of day and the raininess outside the place was busier than it normally was. Gardeners muttered over their tools, maids rushed to clean up dirt and grime that had been tracked in, and all the other servants began to hustle and bustle around in order to make sure that everyone was safe and well attended to.

It shouldn’t have been a long trek, just a few turns before getting to the downstairs, but the trip was elongated by everyone constantly bumping into him and pushing him aside.

Despite being a respected member of the staff, he was still just a boy in many of their eyes. He glared at the people who brushed past him, knowing that he’d helped each one of them with at least half a dozen things at some point or another. They’d been perfectly kind to him then but now he was nothing more than another body blocking their way. It was easy to be nice to someone while they were doing something for you and even easier to ignore them when the time was over.

Half way through the crowd to his destination he felt a hand grip at his arm and turning around he was met with the stern face of a maid, face flushed with frustration.

“Excuse me young man, you’re the Royal Engineer correct?”

Her voice was twice as haughty as she looked, speaking as if she couldn’t believe that she had to stoop to the level of talking to him in the first place.

“Varian. Just Varian.” He didn’t have time to deal with whatever nonsense the woman needed him for even though he had a sneaking suspicion that he was about to be given no choice.

He was quickly proven right as the woman gave a soft huff and pulled him alongside her to whatever issue she needed fixed. For a moment he considered squirming out of her grasp or maybe telling her that he was busy but as nice as those both seemed he knew that it would only come back to bite him in one form or another. If he didn’t fix whatever problem she had now then he would have to do it later. He was already missing lunch, might as well make the most of things.

She all but shoved him into one of main rooms, where he was met with several maids and servants covered in dust and circled around one of his many machines.

Ah , he thought, That explains a lot.

“Your blasted machine blew up. How are we supposed to clean up dust when the device that you made to help does nothing but blow it back in our faces?” The woman huffed as she crossed her arms.

Varian would have rather been scolded by old lady Crowley than whoever this woman was. At least Crowley didn’t balk like a fish when she was angry.

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” Varian tried to joke to lighten the mood, but was met with only a cold shoulder and a stifled chitter from Ruddiger.

Eugene or Rapunzel would’ve found it funny.

He signed while leaning down to the device and fixing it up with one very simple step: Flipping the switch from ‘blow’ to ‘suck’.

“Let me know if you have any actual problems with it ma’am. Sadly, even I can’t fix operator errors.”

He skittered out of the room before anyone could berate him for his mouth. He smirked to himself, thinking how funny one of his friends would find that line. That was only the beginning of his troubles though.

It seemed that every step he took towards the boilers, someone needed his assistance.

Nigel’s mechanical pen needed the ink chamber fixed, Hope needed the automatic laundry cart’s wheel to be tightened, one of the chefs needed more preservation chemicals to keep the food fresh until next week.

By the time he actually got to the door to the boiler room it was well past his lunch break, time slowly and steadily creeping towards dinner. Hours of helping crowds of people with their problems and all that just so he could get to the actual problem of the day.

But yet again, right when he was about to turn the knob on the door and enter the stairwell for the boilers at long last, another hand grasped at his arm.

“Hey there buddy-”

“For the sun’s sake I just need to fix one stupid problem!” Varian shouted, turning around to face the stranger who’d grabbed him only to find that it wasn’t a stranger at all.

Instead he was met with Eugene’s surprised and amused face looking down at him, red uniform dampened slightly from the outside rain and hair slicked back in an admittedly stylish fashion.

“Well hello to you too short stack.” Eugene’s response was met with a groan as Varain pushed in the door and began to descend into the underground area. “Rough day?”

“Not more than any other day here.”

“So I’ll take that as a yes. What’re you doing going to the boilers so late, it’s almost chow time kiddo. You know how your dad will chew us out if we don’t get you your three squares a day.”

Even with Eugene’s joking nature Varian could hear a bit of sincerity in his words. He couldn’t bear the thought of confessing that he hadn’t gotten a chance to eat lunch. Instead he just kept walking downwards, the other man following close behind with Ruddiger.

“The rain cracked through one of the underground tunnel walls, which has been causing the small reservoir down there to flow faster. It’s overfilling the machines which means the formula for heating them isn’t working and that means a bunch of people upset at me until I can fix it.”

“Well of course, can’t imagine what a tragedy it must be to go a full day with only lukewarm water.” Eugene’s tone was sarcastic, mimicking Varian’s earlier sentiments on the matter.

Despite the day he had, the alchemist laughed. Of course Eugene of all people would share his same sense of humor at the situation.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if people would just let me get down here in the first place.”

“Nah, they can’t make it too easy on you kiddo, that’ll just make you go soft.”

Another chuckle rang out against the walls. It was more than Varian had laughed in probably an entire week. Suddenly the task of fixing a leak didn’t seem so bad; having company helped and though he loved Ruddiger to pieces, there was only so much conversation that a single raccoon could have.

“So what do we have to do to fix it?” Eugene asked after the laughter had settled and the two made it to the bottom of the steps, leading to the underground tunnels.

“I’m just going to put some of my newest solution on the crack and up the Flynnolium for a few hours. That’ll give everything time to reset by morning and then I’ll adjust the Flynnolium solution release back down to four percent per tanker. And it’ll also give everyone else ample time to find something new to yell at me about.”

Though he spoke with a joking tone he could see the flash of concern that drifted over Eugene’s face, making him instantly regret saying anything at all. He didn’t want to appear ungrateful to the older man; he really did love his job even with the few pitfalls that came with it. His snark was nothing more than the result of a little stress. That’s what he told himself at least.

The rest of the walk was short and comfortably chatty, Eugene going on about his latest guard duties while Varian laughed and ribbed him on his work ethic. It was nice to finally get some time to talk to his friend again, Team Awesome. He almost didn’t want his work day to be finished but the fixes he needed to implement were easy; it had just taken him forever to get down to do them. Just as soon as the two (plus Ruddgier) had made it to the caves, they were back to the top of the staircase.

“Well kid,” Eugene started, “now that we’ve got that all done let’s go get some grub. Don’t want to keep everyone else waiting.”

Eugene began to walk in the direction of the dining hall but Varian stayed put. He was hungry, that much was for sure, but he’d spent all day around people. Being around them, fixing their problems, having them bump into him and squawk at him. It was nice to spend some time with just Eugene but an entire room full of more people...now that was something different entirely.

“Actually I still have some leftovers from lunch in my room.” By which, of course, he meant his entire lunch. “I’m not that hungry anyways so I think I’m going to pass tonight, tell everyone I said hi.”

“Are you sure? Heard there was going to be cookies tonight-”

“Yeah, don’t-don’t worry about me it’s just been...been a really long day.”

Varian mustered up his best smile and gave a thumbs up as he walked away before Eugene could say anything else.

It had been a nice reprieve from his regular day to day drudgery, but it was time to go to bed and start the whole process over again tomorrow.

____

When Varian woke up the next morning he wasn’t tired which was his first clue that something was wrong. He stretched and yawned, squinting as the sun shone brightly through his window which was the second clue.

The third, and by far the most obvious clue, came when he cleared his nose and sniffed a few times and was met with the scent of fresh ham and eggs. Turning to his night stand he saw a brilliantly decorated tray of toast, butter, and scrambled eggs with ham and tomato slices mixed in.

“What in the-oh shit!” Next to the delicious smelling breakfast was his alarm clock which had apparently not gone off despite having wound it up the night before, seeing how the time displayed on it read 11:12. He was late, beyond late. It was nearly noon, he would never hear the end of it. Not only that, but there was a bigger issue at hand.

“The Flynnolium!” He darted up out of bed, not even bothering to put on his work clothes or brush his hair.

He nearly tripped over his own feet trying to reach the door. When he opened it, however, he ran face first into a solid body, sending him reeling back from the impact.

“Well good morning there sleepy head. Man, you really must’ve been worn out to sleep that long huh? Any sweet dreams?” The voice was calm and teasing with just a hint of sincerity playing against the tone of a smile.

“Eugene!” Varian steadied himself and once again tried to get by him. “I can’t talk right now, I have to go. I overslept somehow and-and the Flynnolium has been set on high for too long, I need to get down there and-”

“Set it back to four percent per tanker? Already taken care of buddy. Now come on, I worked all morning on that breakfast and you haven’t even touched it. Well, the royal chef worked all morning on it but I was in the room so i’m pretty sure that counts for something. Supervising, you know, is a very important part of the process.”

“Wha…”

Varian couldn’t even finish his sentence as Eugene guided him back to his bed and sat him down, moving the breakfast tray onto his lap.

“Well don’t sit there wasting all that hard work, dig in.”

“But I don’t...I don’t understand how-what the hell is going on?”

“Language.” Eugene chidded jokingly before sitting down beside the other, “I noticed you seemed a little stressed yesterday. So, I took it upon myself to give you the day off. Woke up this morning and turned the Flynnolium down. Bribed Ruddiger with a few apples to get him to turn your clock off and let you sleep in.”

Varian looked down at the food in his lap, speechless. He hadn’t been that tired, had he?

“Why though?” He asked, quizzically picking up a slice of toast and slowly biting it.

“I just told you, you’re stressed. We’re Team Awesome and Team Awesome looks out for each other.”

Varian continued to crunch slowly and Eugene let out a soft sigh before putting his hand on the other’s back.

“I know the people here demand a lot from you. It would be a big adjustment for anyone just to exist around this place, let alone be the Royal Engineer. Doing projects every day, people only giving you the time of day when they need you, running around like Pascal chasing after a fly. And I know I...probably haven’t helped much in that regard either. You’re the Royal Engineer because Rapunzel and I know you can handle it. But just because you can handle it on your own doesn’t mean you should have to.”

The more Eugene spoke the more Varian relaxed, shoveling more food into his mouth as he got more comfortable.

“Fankfs.” He said, his cheeks full like chipmunks, causing Eugene to laugh.

“No problem buddy. Anyways, like I was saying, I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much-”

“That’s not your fault.”

“No, but it is my fault for not trying harder. And for not realizing how tough things have been on you. So, here’s the plan, once a week from now on you’re getting a full twenty-four hours of off time. Maybe after a few of those and we’ll finally have you back on a decent sleeping schedule. Anyone who interrupts it gets thrown in the dungeon, my royal decree as Captain.”

“I don’t think Captains can make royal decrees.” Varian stated flatly, suppressing a smirk.

“Ok smart mouth, well they can now. You have the rest of the day off.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment as Varian finished eating, setting aside the tray and closing his eyes. He leaned against Eugene’s shoulder, content and full and happy.

“Thanks Eugene.”

“Anytime kiddo. Team Awesome?”

Eugene extended his fist and Varian happily, if not a bit tiredly, pounded it with his own.

“Team Awesome. Now, since I have the rest of the day off…” In a split second Varian was falling back against his bed, rolling himself up in the blankets pillows, “I’m going back to sleep.”

Eugene laughed and playfully shoved his shoulder.

“Lazy bones. Well, have sweet dreams. Sugar plum fairies and all that.”

“Nah, I’m going to be dreaming of cute blonds who look like Flynn Rider and take me on daring adventures.”

That caused Eugene to laugh even louder.

“Wow, you really are such a teenager aren’t you? Well tell dream hotshot that if he wants your fantasy hand in marriage he’s going to have to get through me first.”

“And my dad.” Varian joked bluntly.

“Personally I think I’m the more important one to impress but, yeah, that guy too-” Suddenly a pillow hit Eugene’s face, muffling his chuckles, “Ok ok I get the message, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.”

“Eugene?”

“Yes sleeping beauty?”

“Thanks, I needed this.”

“Any time kiddo. Love ya.”

As Eugene closed the door, Varian closed his eyes, sinking down into his mattress and into a day of blissful sleep.

“Love you too.”

By the time Varian got the drowsy words out, Eugene was already gone, but it didn’t matter. He already knew.

[magicponies]

Sun Spirit Zuko - Backstory

TW(s) - Major Character Death, child abuse (if anything else needs tagged, please lmk)

.

Zuko was yanked out of bed and dragged from his room by his sister. In a tired moment of panic, he tried to get away from her, but she rolled her eyes and grabbed him by his shoulders.

“It’s your sister, idiot!” She hissed. Zuko’s eyes focused and he realized that it was, in fact, just his sister. He calmed down a bit, but looked around the castle and squinted.

“Why did you drag me out of bed so late?” He asked. 

“Dad wanted me to come and get you. Something happened to Grandpa- he told me that he needed you, not me.” Azula replied, sounding a little jealous. Zuko was confused.

“Why would Dad need me…?” He asked himself. Azula shrugged.

“Now come on- he told me to come to Grandpa’s throne room.” Zuko followed after his little sister carefully, trying to keep his footing whenever he almost tripped over things in the dark hallways. Not long after, they got into the throne room, where Ozai was waiting for them. Ursa was nowhere to be seen, but Azulon was sitting on the throne and watching carefully. 

“Thank you, Azula,” Ozai said, earning a bright smile from his daughter. “You may return to your room now- I just need your brother for this.” Azula looked a little disappointed at this, but nodded, gave a small bow to her father, and let go of her brother’s hand and started to walk away.

“Before you go,” Azulon suddenly spoke up, causing Azula to stop in her tracks. “Say goodbye to your brother. It would be good to do so.” Azula was a little confused by this but nodded anyway. Zuko was getting more anxious by the moment. 

“Of course, Grandfather,” Azula said, turning around again to face Zuko. “Goodbye, Zu-Zu!” She gave him a bright, slightly terrifying smile, before turning and walking off again. Zuko felt a bit more scared than he did before without her in the room but did the proper bow to greet his Grandfather.

“Have I done something wrong? Azula didn’t give me any explanation for why I’m here,” Zuko said, glancing up at his father, who did not look happy. 

“No,” Azulon said. “It is not your fault for what is going to happen, child. This is your father’s punishment.” Zuko looked confused at this.

“What do you mean?” Azulon did not reply- just looked at his son. A ring of fire suddenly surrounded both Zuko and Ozai, making it impossible for either of them to leave. Ozai’s hands lit aflame as he looked at Zuko. Zuko looked scared, but did not move- he knew that the ring of fire was there to have him stay put, or else there would be consequences. 

                                                   ------------------

Azula watched through the curtains, staying low and quiet to not alert anyone that she was there. She could just barely see what was going on through the flames- and when she realized what was happening, her eyes widened slightly. She backed up and started to run to get her mother, just as she heard Zuko’s first scream. Not far away from the throne room did she find Ursa, who was rushing towards the room.

“Azula!” She said, kneeling down to Azula’s height. Azula looked legitimately scared for once in her life. “Are you okay?” Azula nodded. “Is there any way we can get into the throne room?”

“There’s fire blocking the entrance- what’s going on?! Is Dad actually going to kill Zuzu?! I thought he was just kidding!” Tears welled in Azula’s eyes. Ursa closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again, gently brushing Azula’s hair out of her face. Another scream was heard, but it was fainter, due to them being further away.

“Zuko will be okay,” She said finally, her voice quiet. “I want you to get out of here. Go somewhere else. Go- go with Mai or Ty Lee, and don’t tell them what’s happening here. I’ll send someone to come get you when this is all over, okay? I love you, sweetheart.” Ursa pressed a kiss to Azula’s forehead before standing up again. “Go.” Azula hesitated before nodding, running off down the hallway in the opposite direction that Ursa was going. 

                                                  ------------------

Zuko fell to the ground, barely breathing. His vision was blurry, he was sobbing, and every inch of his body was in tremendous amounts of pain. He could feel the blistering burns forming on the left half of his body. The burns were so severe that he could barely move, yet they hardly touched the right side of him. The biggest part that caused him the most pain was the area the lightning hit him- right in the chest. It hurt him just to breathe- he was dying, he knew that. He couldn’t bring himself to get up. He was exhausted. 

When the world around him started to go dark, he started getting even more scared. He couldn’t leave the world, not yet. He had to be there for his sister, he had to be there for his Uncle when he returned home. Yet he was unable to stay conscious, falling into what he hoped would just be a deep sleep.

His eyes opened again quickly, and he found himself in a dark room. His vision was still blurred slightly, but as they adjusted to the darkness, he quickly realized that it wasn’t a room he was in- in fact, he wasn’t inside at all. Once his eyes adjusted fully, the world around him lit up and grew to look peaceful. There were many animals running around, most of which he had never seen before. The ground below him was pale grass, which was very soft to the touch, he came to realize, seeing as he was laying right on it. The sky above him was a bright, vibrant blue with clouds passing through, yet there was no sun nor moon in sight. 

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Zuko could feel no pain anymore. He looked down at his arm, expecting to see fresh burns, but there were only scars where burns had once been. He reached up to touch his face, expecting to feel a fresh burn, yet there was only a scar. He was confused and surprised. He got to his feet, hesitating. There were trees around, too, and he noticed a lake in the distance, where a white-haired girl was sitting, looking into the lake as though she were trying to contact something or someone.

Zuko thought for a moment- he could go over to her and ask where they were, but she probably wouldn’t know, either. She looked younger than he did- maybe 11, 12 at best. The girl suddenly looked up from the water, her striking blue eyes looking right at Zuko.

“How did you get here?” She asked, standing up and making her way over to him. Despite the fact that they were rather far away from one another, it sounded as though she were whispering in his ear, and it made him shudder.

“I… I don’t know,” Zuko admitted, hesitating. The girl stood in front of him, her eyes carefully looking over him. She hesitated for a moment before bringing a hand up and placing it on his newly scarred chest. A bright, amber light came from the scar, and the girl yelped, jumping backward. Zuko felt a shock of pain from it, yet it disappeared almost as instantly as it came. The girl stared at him, eyes wide.

“You’re… you’re being blessed by Agni.” She said, almost breathlessly.

“What?” Zuko asked, looking down. The light had disappeared, though Zuko now realized that there was a pale, see through glow encasing his scars. He tried to get rid of it, but it didn’t budge. “Who are you?” He questioned the girl finally, panic rising in him. The girl looked embarrassed, messing with her hair.

“I’m so sorry, how foolish of me. I’m Princess Yue- I’ve been blessed by Tui. Tui saved my life when I was just a baby- so, it is my duty to save her life if things ever come to that.” Zuko looked confused.

“So- you’re a princess? And you like… are the Moon Spirit?” Yue smiled slightly.

“Yes, and no. I am not Tui. I am the future replacement for Tui if anything happens to her.” Zuko slowly nodded. “May I ask who you are?”

“Oh, uh… I’m Prince Zuko. Sorry- also, how old are you? You’re super formal- it’s kinda weird.”

“I’m 12.” 

“Oh. So am I.” Zuko hesitated. “You said I’m being blessed by Agni- what does that mean?” Yue bit her lip.

“I’m afraid that it means you died. But, the positive side is, someone saw you dying and didn’t want you to! So, they prayed to Agni for you- and, I guess Agni saw something in you… and, he has decided to help you by giving you part of his life force. I think. That what Tui said she did for me.” Zuko stared.

“I… I died? No- no, that’s not possible. I- I can’t have.” He fell to the ground, pulling a leg to his chest and running his hand through his hair, staring at the ground. “That’s impossible. I didn’t do anything wrong- I shouldn’t have died for nothing!” Before Yue could answer, a feminine voice rang out from the lake. A glowing, white figure appeared, though it didn’t appear to be feminine nor masculine. 

“Little moondust,” The figure said. “We must leave him be. I am sure you will meet again in the future, but the Sun and Moon are not to be around one another for very long. Come with me, I will send you home.” Yue nodded.

“Okay, Tui!” She said. She looked back at Zuko, hesitating. “I hope to see you again, Prince Zuko.” She did a small, traditional water tribe bow. “Bye!” With that, she ran off, walking right into the opened arms of Tui, both disappearing instantly. Zuko looked around frantically, quickly getting up again and going over to the lake. There was no sign of either of them, though there were two fish circling one another. 

“I don’t know what’s going on!” He cried out, but there were no reactions from the fish. They just continued to circle each other. 

“I am sorry, my little spark.” A masculine voice rang out. Zuko spun around, seeing a glowing yellow figure walking towards him. “But what Tui’s little moondust had said is the truth. You have died, but there is no room to worry.” The figure gently placed a hand on Zuko’s face. The figure was blurry- no features were able to be made out, other than the fact that it had a mouth and was the source of the voice. “I am going to give you a part of my life force, and you will be able to return home. If you ever need me, you will know how to find me, I assure you. If I am ever in danger, I am relying on you to either protect me or give up your own life for mine. Am I understood, little spark?” Zuko hesitated. He normally would have been scared, but there was something just so… warm and inviting about this figure. Zuko was sure this was Agni. 

“Yes, Agni.” Zuko breathed out. It was almost like he hadn’t wanted to speak, yet words came out. Agni nodded. 

“Good. Your mother is a very loving soul- you should thank her when you return. It was her prayers that I answered. I see something in you, little spark. You have great potential. You may return whenever you are ready. You just have to wake up.” Zuko nodded slightly. Agni suddenly disappeared out of thin air, and Zuko closed his eyes. The world around him faded, and he felt like he was falling, the rush of air running past him, until suddenly his eyes were opening again.

                                                  ------------------

(Do not repost my writing nor my art.)