#to clarify i had a call where the guy asked me to text him info so he could reply to set up a consultation so that was both a call and text

[naomiknight-17]

I managed to get one more fence quote today and call/text to request another! Idk why this shit is so hard for me but dammit I am getting through it and I deserve a damn treat

[fangirlstorycreator]

Could I request a KK3/CK Terry scenario where he's broken into our house for some sleuthing and we catch him in the act?

---

To clarify, I mean when he's sneaking around like he does in KK3 where he breaks into Miyagi's house to gain info on him and Daniel. I don't see him being friends with the reader, but maybe they've just started dating?

I shall try my best anon 😁💚

Things had been a little off for you recently, you had someone break into your house while you were at work one day, and it seemed they managed to get away with a few of your expensive lamps from the living room. Thankfully that was all they took, no valuables or things like TVs and consoles because before they could try to take them, you arrived home and called the police. Only one of the 3 guys was arrested because the other 2 managed to escape, but it was still a bad time you had gone through. You had been with your new boyfriend Terry for a few months now, and when you told him about this he was furious. You felt safe enough with him to give him a spare key to your home, incase of an emergency like the break in happening again. He swore to protect you, so knowing his fighting skills, if they were to return, he could kick their #sses.

One night you were snuggled up in bed upstairs, reading a book with your bedside lamp on, when you heard a thudding noise downstairs. You shot up straight away in your bed, frightened that they had come back. It made it even worse when you realise your phone is downstairs so you couldn't call Terry. Sh#t, you thought to yourself, you slowly and quietly climbed out of bed and reached under your mattress, pulling out a cricket bat. At least you had something you could hit them over the head with when you left the bedroom, it still didn't make you feel less scared. You walk down tne stairs as slowly as you could, trying your hardest not to make a noise. And in doing that, you could hear where the person was, in the living room. Your heart is racing, you feel like your going to pass out, but you weren't going to let this happen again.

"Get the f#ck out of my house!!!" You scream as you jump into the room brandishing the cricket bat. "Woh woh Y/N! It's me! Its Terry!" "What the f- Terry?" "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-" "Terry what the f#ck is wrong with you! What are you doing in my house?!" "I'm sorry baby, I was just installing this" He said pointing to a security alarm system. "Didn't you think to do this when it was day time!? When i knew you would be coming!? Instead of pretty much doing the most ironic thing and breaking into my home just like those men did?!" "I didn't break in, I used the key you gave me" "Terry you are just digging a bigger hole for yourself hear!" "Alright alright I'm sorry, I honestly didn't mean to frighten you. Just put down the bat ok?" Your still angry, but you throw it down into the sofa. "Give me the key Terry" "I was only trying to-" "I said give me the key Terry! Now!" He looks quite put out, but he completely understood why you feel that way.

He hands you the key "I'll call you when I'm ready, now please leave" "I'm sorry Y/N....I'm going now" You walk him to the door and lock it behind him, making sure before going to bed to check every window and door twice. You texted Terry the morning after and told him you need a few days by yourself, he understood and agreed not to come around and see you until you were ready. During that time, you take a look at the security stuff he left behind, and your suprised how advanced and high tech it is. It's very expensive and it's a very popular and well reviewed piece of kit, it seemed he tried to get the best for you. You didn't forget what happened, you understood why he wanted to set it up, but he didn't go about it in the right way.

You gave him a call and asked if he was available to come around for a chat, he said yes and within 20 minutes, he arrived at your place. Your both sat in the living room as you talk about what happened. "I know I shouldn't have come in during the night Y/N, that was stupid of me. It was just the only time I had available and I wanted to make sure your house was safe" "You can understand why I am upset though right? After the real thing happened, I felt terrified that it had happened again, and you know how badly I was affected before" "I know, I didn't think you would be awake" "And is that suposed to make me feel better?" "No i just, I just didn't think about that at the time, I should have told you in the first place" "You've apologised to me, and I accept your apology. But you can understand why I wont allow you to have my spare key again" "Yes I do"

"Good" "So, is there anything I can do to help earn your trust again?" "I do trust you Terry, but if you want to prove it and help me feel safer....you can install this safety kit. NOW that I'm awake and I KNOW that your hear" You smile at eachother and share a little giggle. "Of course I will do that. And again, I'm so sorry for what I did" "Just put the safety system up Terry, and if you keep apologising like this, I'll have to think of another way to keep that mouth of yours busy..." "Ohhhh, I quite like the sound of that"

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [1]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Word count: 4,863

↳  Chapters: Prelude | You Are Here! | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

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

MONDAY - 1

Your heart was pounding a million miles a minute as you stepped into your photoshoot studio on campus two weeks later, ready to see a bunch of other students preparing for interviews for the same position. Surprisingly, you were the only one present besides your teacher. She smiled and approached. “Hey,” she greeted you with a short handshake. “I see you’re nervous?” “A little,” you admit, returning her friendly grin. “I’m surprised nobody else is here.” She hummed. “Well, there was a lot to choose from. Come on. This one, I believe, is a little special compared to the others.” “How so?” Your voice was laced with curiosity as she led you further in, past the background sheets that separate the room into two halves. Behind it were people you had only dreamed of seeing in person.

The three of them stood as soon as they lay eyes on you. Johnny, Mark, and Jaehyun. You were completely frozen, staring at them and nearly forgetting to breathe. The thought of the members interviewing you themselves had never even entered your brain.

Your teacher placed a hand on your shoulder, startling you. Without a word, she smiled at you, nodded at them and left the room. Once the door shut with a soft click, Mark approached you. “Hi, I’m Mark Lee,” he held out his hand. “You probably knew that, considering your expression.” He laughed sweetly. You barely held out your hand with a shy nod, “I’m (Y/N).” Instead of going through with the handshake, Mark immediately moves in to engulf you in a friendly hug. “It’s nice to meet you,” you mumbled into the hug, barely processing that you were actually hugging Mark Lee and were in the same five-foot radius as three members of NCT. Johnny and Jaehyun also hugged you tightly, insisting that you join them at the table your teacher had set up for them.

“I thought I would be more prepared,” you admitted softly, digging into your backpack and pulling out your portfolio of projects and random photos you’ve taken. Mark takes it first to open and look through. “I’ve been a fan since your debut.” 

Johnny smiled. “Then you’re just the person we’re looking for,” he said. He glances over at your portfolio, then back to you. “The truth is, we aren’t looking for a professional like a lot of others in this program. We bring our own from our company.” Your knit your eyebrows together in confusion. “Then why sign up? If, um, you don’t mind me asking.” 

Jaehyun looked up from browsing your portfolio with Mark. “We were looking to take one photo.” He held up his index finger. “We wanted to have a friend that’s from around here to help us find the perfect spot, and photographers always know the best places.” Your eyes widened. A friend? Did he really just say that? “Just one photo?” You decided to ask, the whole prospect of clarifying what Jaehyun meant by ‘friend’ was a little too overwhelming.

The three of them nodded. “We want just one photo for our dorm. This stop is important to us, and we want this to stay away from social media. It’s just going to be for us. And for you, for your project, of course,” Mark explained. “We don’t want someone that is too professional and we don’t want a fansite to take it. It seemed to us that a friend would be the best choice.” He smiled gently at you. “We’ll provide you with a ticket and backstage pass, as well as paying you based on the program’s price for the photo to be touched up and framed.” 

You tripped over your words. “Well, I… I don’t think I’m in a position to turn you down, but…” Johnny cocked his head to the side. “But..?” 

You gulped and sheepishly avoided eye contact. “I can’t speak Korean,” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers. Mark smiled sweetly at you. “That’s okay. We’ll translate for you. So, what do you think? Would you like to spend a day with us before our show?” 

You smiled, deciding to be a bit more daring. They did say, friend. “You’re asking that like there’s even a shred of a chance I’d say no.” 

All three of them grin. “Thank you, I was hoping you would say yes,” Mark says. “Your portfolio is stunning.”

Your face goes red and you're barely conscious enough to stand with them as they prepare to leave. Johnny and Jaehyun hug you again, praising your work before taking their leave, but Mark doesn't join them.

“Our manager has your teacher's contact information, but I want to involve the company as little as possible… if it's not too sudden, could I please have your number?” Mark smiles sheepishly, offering his unlocked phone to you, open to a new contact page. It's as if he has no idea of the impact he has on his fans. Sometimes you forget that NCT is made up of normal humans, and the one standing in front of you is a year younger than you are. 

“Of course,” you take it gently and add your contact info, taking a quick selfie to add as your little profile picture, all while Mark watches you searchingly. “Here you are,” you hand his phone back, hesitating on saying what you were thinking, “since you want to be friends, feel free to text me.” 

Mark takes his phone back with a smile, sending you a quick smiley face to make sure the number was correct. The room is silent for a moment, your face feels as if it's on fire and Mark returns the stare you gave him when you walked in.

“Come on, Mark!” you hear Johnny’s voice from outside the classroom and you both turn toward it. You smile sheepishly.

“I shouldn't keep you, should I?” you ask, voice soft and a little embarrassed.

“No, but I wish I had more time. I'll text you, I promise,” he says, hugging you once more before leaving you alone and speechless. 

You wondered if all fan interactions were like the one you just experienced. You were aware the members of NCT were known to be humble and kind, but they were much calmer and affectionate than you expected. The idea that you just saw Mark's smile in person made your own cheesy grin spread across your face as you packed up your portfolio. 

After class, you headed back to your dorm, a skip in your step. Once you opened the door and stepped inside, you felt like you could collapse. Fatigue washed over you like a tidal wave, and you knew it was time for an afternoon nap. Rhiannon was still in her lab, so you could grab at least 20 minutes of shut-eye before she would come back and beg for you to make dinner. You set your bag down by the door with your shoes and set a course for your bed. As soon as you were able to slide underneath the covers and nearly drift to sleep, your phone vibrated.

You reach into your pocket, confused. Rhiannon was the only friend that had your number, and if she even thought about her phone in a lab, she would be kicked out. Once you unlock your phone, you finally remembered who else you gave your number to.

Mark: Hey!

You licked your lips as your chest twinged and filled with butterflies. You screamed internally for a few seconds, the moment hitting you a little harder than before. Mark Lee had your cell phone number and he was texting you first. 

You: Hello, what’s up?

Mark replied almost immediately, which startled you a little bit. You turned over in your bed to get a little more comfortable.

Mark: We were just finishing up settling into our hotel rooms. I wanted to know how you're doing, are you in class? I hope I'm not interrupting anything

You: No, I got home a little while ago. I was gonna take a nap tbh

Mark: Oh! Sorry, I don't mean to take away sleep from a college student

You smiled a little bit. He was too sweet. As if your nap wasn't going to ruin your sleep schedule.

You: Its fine, if I had a nap I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight anyway

Mark: So you're free then?

Your eyebrows furrowed as you typed your response.

You: Uh yeah, why? Did you all want that picture now?

You put your phone down, a little overwhelmed. If they wanted it now, you wouldn't see them again until the concert, which wasn't until Friday. Perhaps you should have expected they wanted to do this as fast as possible, their Canadian and Chicago stops were planned with vacations in mind considering Johnny and Mark's heritage. When your phone buzzed again, you almost jumped to grab it.

Mark: Well no not yet. I was just wondering if you wanted to get coffee or something. Or tea if you prefer that 

Your eyes widened.

You: Really?

Mark: Yeah. I dunno, I want to take the friend thing more serious than the guys. They just wanted to use that word so it was like an unspoken contract that you wouldn't post this everywhere y'know? 

Your heart sank a little bit, but you could see how important privacy was. If you were in the same position, you would have done the same.

You: I understand… I'm still kind of a stranger though, are you sure?

Mark: That's why I'm asking. I don't want you to be. So, will you meet me?

You: There's a Tim Hortons on the first floor of M building near where you met me on campus, I can be there in 40 minutes 

Mark: See you in 40 minutes then :)

As soon as you read that text, you tossed your comforter to the side and raced into the bathroom. You fix your hair and could barely decide whether to change your outfit or not. He did see you earlier today, would he think you were trying too hard if you changed? 

“Keep it together, (Y/N),” you told yourself, patting your cheeks with your hands as you eyed your complexion in the mirror. “He just wants tea and coffee, nothing major.” 

Just then, the front door opened. “Are you talking to yourself again?” Rhiannon called from the foyer.

“No,” you called back, clearly lying as you took one more scan of yourself in the mirror before leaving to greet your friend. “You’re back early. How was the lab?”

“Tiring,” she answered. “My bitch lab partner came in even earlier than usual to make sure I didn't have the chance to set up our station again.” She rolled her eyes and dropped her backpack next to yours. 

“Yikes,” you reply, watching her wander into the kitchen. “Are you gonna tell your professor that she is trying to sabotage your grade?” 

Rhiannon sighed. “I don't know if the following shitstorm would be worth it,” she says, plugging in the electric kettle. “I'm gonna make some tea, you want any?”

You shook your head, even though she probably couldn't see you from the wall separating the kitchen and foyer. “No thanks, I'm going out to Tim's in M building.” 

Rhiannon took less than a second to appear in the archway to stare at you. “Why?” She questioned, squinting at you. 

“Mark asked me to meet him for coffee.” 

“Mark,” she repeated, crossing her arms. “I thought you hated Mark Davids.” 

“Not that asshole,” you shot back. “Mark Lee.” You began to look for a pair of cuter shoes as Rhiannon’s eyes widened.

“You got the job?!” She exclaimed, her voice nearly reaching a squeal. "YOU MET MARK LEE? WITHOUT ME?!"

“Yeah,” you smile sheepishly, taken aback by her shouting. you picked out your favourite pair of shoes, red converse high tops. “He just seems like he wants to hang out right now though.”

“Oh my God,” her voice nearly lowered to a whisper. “Mark Lee just asked you out.”

You rolled your eyes. “He didn't ask me out, he just wants to talk,” you explain, pulling on your shoes to tie them. 

“I dunno, he could be it,” she says, waltzing back into the kitchen. “You never know!”

You sigh. “See you later!” 

“Tell him to get Haechan's number!”

After a 15-minute subway ride and a lot of hurried walking, you hauled open the pristine doors of M building, the newest addition to your college campus. Right before you was a little Tim Hortons with a tiny student’s lounge to accompany it. There was a little bit of a line to the micro cafe since night classes were starting up around now, but the student’s lounge was close to empty. 

You took in a deep breath, fully stepping inside and beginning your search for Mark. It doesn’t take long to spot him, he’s sporting yellow hair and a white face mask, accompanied by two red Tim Hortons cups at a table in the corner of the lounge. It takes you a moment to fathom your position - about to meet someone you’ve been crushing on for months through a computer screen for coffee in a lounge at your college. On top of that- he’s already bought you something.

“Hi,” you meekly greet him, approaching the table. Mark looks up from his phone and his eyes immediately crease into the crescents of his beautiful smile.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” He pulls his mask off, “sit down, I, uh, got you some tea. You kind of struck me as that kind of person, so I hope I got it right.” 

“Thank you, Mark. You really didn’t have to buy me anything…” You smile nervously, your face feeling hot and your heart beating a mile a minute. Mark seemed a little nervous, just like you. It was a sobering moment, taking the cup he pushed toward you and opening it to take a sip. Your eyes widened. Your tea was exactly the way you always order it, nearly to the grain of sugar.

Mark watches your expression, happy that you seemed to like your tea, “I wanted to treat you. I know how weird this must all seem for you, but for some reason, I feel like I know you.” He runs his hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact for a moment. 

You look away from him as well. There's a moment of silence between you, the bustle of students slowly diminishing as the sun sets behind you. 

“I, uh, can't really relate to you in that way,” you whisper after you worked up the courage to break the silence. “A lot of your life is on display.” 

“You're right,” Mark agreed. “There are a few things I keep to myself, though,” he smiled cheerfully. “But what I mean is hard to explain.”

Curious, you nod toward him, “try me.”

“When I was standing in line, I was trying to figure out what to get you. I wanted to treat you since I asked you to come, and I kind of expected for you to say no since your professor said you had class today and-”

“Mark, it’s fine, stay focused.” you smile faintly at him and wait for him to continue, sipping your tea again.

He blushes and nods sheepishly. “When it was my turn, I got what I wanted and the second I thought about you, I recited medium steeped orange pekoe tea with two cream and one and a half sugar like I had been getting it for you for years.” He stops for a moment, presumably watching your stunned reaction.

Your breathing was feeling a little crooked, and you couldn't quite place what you were feeling. You tried to take in a deep breath, shaking your head when Mark began to look concerned. 

“Sorry,” you apologize quickly. “I, uh, kind of know what you're talking about. This is all just a little; I don't know…”

“Overwhelming?” Mark finished, nodding his head. “I can't stop thinking about it.” 

You tried to smile. “I guess you gave the bug to me,” you joke. “Want to get some air?”

“I'd like that.” 

The two of you walked down a path that led off-campus, talking. It was as if the two of you had forgotten your positions in life; Mark a celebrity with his life on a pedestal and you just a fan that forgot how much you really knew about him.

You were rediscovering his cheerful nature, his loud and hearty laughter that was a whole-body endeavour, learning that he plays the guitar, his love of ice cream and sweet things. His favourite colour was blue, and he loved Christmas so much he already had a growing list of things to buy for his friends as gifts.

The sun was nearly hidden behind the hills of the park you wandered into, admiring the newly blossomed cherry trees. You were showing him a small bed of flowers decorated to look like a Canadian flag when Mark asked the dreaded personal question you had been hoping you would never have to answer again.

“How did your parents find out?” His tone was soft, curious. He didn't sound as invasive as others have been in the past, but the question still made you bite your lip to keep from frowning.

“A gang fight,” you answer, bitterly. “My dad punched my mom in the face so hard that day, she needed to go to the ER. It actually took three months for her to figure out why the print of my dad's fist hadn't faded from her cheek.”

Mark didn't speak for a moment. “Was that too much to ask?”

You looked up at him from the flower bed, smiling faintly. He looked good in the final evening glow. “I don't mind that much, but...”

“I'm sorry,” he said, tentatively placing a hand on the small of your back. 

“It's okay,” you start, his sympathy nearly made you melt. The two of you begin walking again, Mark absently running his fingers over cherry petals as you both passed the trees. “I got out of it all pretty quickly. They fought when they were high, and that was almost all the time. Sometimes, I feel scared just thinking about how my life might end up. If any of it is all as real as everyone says it is.”

Mark stares at you, and there is sympathy radiating off of him. He looks like he wants to say something, but he stays quiet.

You hold back a frown and decide to break the silence. “Anyway, how about your parents?” 

“A hug,” he answered, nodding, a smile returning to his face. “it's not the most common first touch in the world, but I hope I find mine the same way.” 

“That does sound nice,” you agree softly.

“I've heard it's all up to fate and magic,” Mark says, charm in his voice. “I've always wanted to believe in that.”

“I'd like to believe in that. Makes life seem a little more bearable. I’ve just always been so cynical through my childhood, so much so that all of my hope for a fairytale ending faded a long time ago. I never really thought that anything good would come out of it. If the universe really wants me to find someone, I guess I can’t really do anything about it.”

Mark smiles, although you can tell he is hiding a smidge of disappointment. “I suppose that's one way to think about it,” he replies. “I just want to know someone so well that I don't have to think twice about it. Like knowing the exact way to cheer them up when they're sad. Like the perfect cup of tea or their favourite stuffed animal. I guess that takes a little bit of magic.” 

You stop in your tracks, thinking about the perfect tea he had given you earlier.

“What's wrong?” Mark stops and turns around when he notices you're not keeping pace.

“Nothing,” you lie with a smile, watching Mark's scepticism through the darkness of night. 

“Okay,” he says softly, looking up at the sky. “I guess it's late, huh?” 

You join him in looking up. If the city wasn't always so lit up, this spot would be perfect for a shot of the starry night sky between the small canopy of cherry trees. “I guess it is.”

“How far away is your dorm? I can walk you,” he suggests, taking your hand. You're frozen, too stunned by the gesture to pull away.

“You don't have to,”

“But I want to,” Mark grins. “It's the one way I can make sure you get back safely.”

“You're too kind…” you pause for a moment. Mark is staring you down, waiting for you to say yes. “I'm not allowed to say no, am I?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Nope. Come on, let's go.” 

Scoffing lightly, you concede and begin walking again. “You can take me to my subway stop and I can tell you which train to take to go back,” you offer, assuming he would need to be back at his hotel before it got too late at night. 

“No,” he said quickly. Your eyes widened at his tone and once he noticed your reaction, he lowered his voice. “I just… have these gut feelings. I'd like to escort you right to your dorm,” he clears his throat, “um, if I'm not crossing any lines.” 

You feel sympathy for him. Just looking at Mark, you can tell he's worried about you, but you can't quite see the reason. “Okay,” you agree softly. 

It's silent for a while as you both walk through the well-lit city. It's not until you pass a food truck on the way to the subway station that either of you says something again.

“You know, you and I walked around that park for hours and we didn't even know how late it was until the last minute,” Mark comments, still holding your hand and pulling back gently to keep you from walking past him. 

“Yeah, you're right,” you blush, you had to admit to yourself that you hadn't lost yourself in conversation or such comfortable silence like that even on a date. "We forgot to eat. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” Mark admits with a laugh, “and these hot dogs smell good.” 

You look up at him. “I'll buy.” You wriggle your hand out of his grasp and run toward the cart before Mark can catch you, readying your wallet. 

“Two hot dogs please, one with relish and one plain, please. Also, burn the plain one a little bit, thanks.” 

“You're slippery,” Mark says, watching you pay for the food.

“You bought me tea, it's only fair,” you stick your tongue out at him. He sighs and nods at you, only breaking his gaze when the man at the cart hands down the hot dogs a few moments later. “The one with relish is yours. You hate ketchup, right?” 

Mark takes his hot dog, eyes wide. “Uh, yeah,” he pauses. “I just haven't really told anyone outside the guys and my family.” 

You're halfway through a bite of your ‘dog and you nearly choke on it. 

“Hey, hey!” Mark reaches out for your shoulder, hoping that you wouldn't pass out. “Chew and swallow! Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out.” 

You swallow and cough, shaking your head. “Don't worry, I'm fine,” you say. “This is just a weird feeling.” 

He nods. “Yeah. But I don't really mind it. Come on, let's walk some more.” 

It was totally surreal to you, walking and eating with Mark. He was right, there was this strange feeling washing over you every time you looked at him, different than watching him on a Vlive broadcast or music video. Like you knew something about him that nobody else did, and it made you feel both good and scared out of your mind. It felt invasive.

One subway stop and a little bit of a walk later, you both arrive at your dorm building. “Here we are,” you announce. “My roommate is probably going to kill me for coming back so late.”

“Should I go in with you? To protect you?” Mark is smiling, but you can tell there is a hint of seriousness. 

“If you want. She will probably ask for something from you, though.” You open the main doors and enter in your code, leading Mark in with you.

“Like what?” Mark furrows his eyebrows. “She's not weird, right?”

You nearly laugh out loud. “She's weird all right, just not the kind you're thinking of. She wanted me to get Haechan's number from you, but I got so absorbed in talking with you that I forgot to ask.” 

“Oh,” Mark is following you close behind, letting out a tiny sigh of relief. “That doesn't sound too bad, but his reaction should be interesting.” 

You shrugged. “You don't have to do it. Anyway-” You're cut off as the door to your apartment opens, Rhiannon stepping out and pressing her hands to her hips. 

“Look who's finally back,” she states, and you can immediately tell she is angry. “It's almost 1 AM!” 

“Shh! I'm sorry, okay? I lost track of time! I was with-” 

“Mark,” she says, her voice less harsh when she notices Mark is standing behind you, sheepishly smiling and waving at her. “At least you had the initiative to walk her home.” 

You squint at your best friend. It's clear she is trying not to freak out in front of him. “Are you gonna let me inside?” 

“Not yet,” she states. “Mark, I love you,” she says quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you to her. You're smiling awkwardly at him, shrugging and mouthing ‘sorry’. 

Mark smiles awkwardly and nods at you. “Uh, thanks,”

“Thank you for bringing (Y/N) back. Has she asked you about Haechan?” 

“Yeah. I'll text you guys his number when I get back- which I probably should…”

You step forward. “Do you know how to get back?”

Mark shakes his head. “I think it's on Yorkville, I might have to use my GPS.” 

You shake your head. “It's easy to get there. Head to the station you and I were just on, take the southbound for 5 stops. Once you get above ground, you should be on that street.” 

Mark smiled at you. “Thank you.” He approached you to give you a hug, which felt warmer than the other two from earlier in the day. When he turned to leave, a pang hit your chest.

“Mark,” you called. Instantly he turned around, his expression curious. “Let me know when you get back safely.” 

He nodded, smiling warmly. “I will, I promise.” 

You watch him leave, a little shocked that spending the entire night with him didn't feel like it at all. You're only broken out of your thoughts when Rhiannon drags you inside your apartment and shuts the door.

“You scared me half to death, you bitch! At least text me when you're gonna stay out this late! I thought you were just having tea! I was this close to calling the cops!” She presses her index finger to her thumb and shoves her hand towards your face as you stand before her, a little humiliated.

“Your fingers are touching,” you say quietly, screwing your eyes shut.

“Exactly!” she exclaims. “I was one button away from speaking to 911! You're goddamn lucky I heard you and Mark coming down the hall!” You open your eyes when she gently touches your arm. “Don't scare me like that.”

“I'm sorry. I promise I'll keep in touch next time.” You smile awkwardly at her. “I was just so caught up in talking and trying to make sure it wasn't a dream.” 

Rhiannon nodded and returned your smile. “I know. You should go to bed, you have class in the morning.” 

“Yeah. Thanks for worrying about me.” 

Once you were in fresh pyjamas, you had some music on in the bathroom while you dry your hair with a towel. A quick shower before bed always was relaxing enough for you to fall asleep quickly. Snuggling up in bed after that long day was especially nice, gathering up your teddy bear to hug close. You're just about to drift off when your phone buzzes. 

Mark: Hey, I'm back safe. Thank you for the directions 

You: You're welcome

I had a really nice time tonight 

Mark: Me too

You have class tomorrow right 

You: Yeah, it's a short day though, just a small photoshop lab 

Mark: Do you want to hang out again when you're done? By the way, the number I promised - __________

You: I'd like that. Thanks, I'll forward it to her 

Haechan was cool with it right 

Mark: Me too :) yeah he was cool with it, he owed me a favour anyway 

Sleep well ok?

You: I will, you too? 

Mark: Yeah I promise 

Goodnight (Y/N)

You: Goodnight :)

After putting your phone down on your nightstand, you peacefully drifted off with a smile on your face.

[heyheydidjaknow]

Okay, so the official update deadline for me is now every Sunday before I sleep. This is the second part. If the formatting is off, I apologize. Also, if you want to read the first bit, the link’s at the bottom. And the third one. I know there’s a way to make it so that touching on underlined text or something links you to the link, but I dunno how to do that.

Chapter 2

Surprisingly enough, the easiest one to convince of your legitimacy is Hamato Yoshi.

As soon as you walk into the lair, all you have to say to Ratman is that his daughter “was” named Miwa (obviously, dropping a bombshell like, “Your daughter is alive,” is somewhat bad form) and that he was going to give her a fan/knife thing, and he is convinced. Maybe it is to do with his natural compassion and/or naivety, but it allows you the option to sleep on the couch and not have to wander around to find exactly where the hell that address is.

You pull your knees to your chest as you stare blankly at the dead television screen, mind wandering as you listen to the accumulative sounds of the others. You are used to being awake at ungodly hours, of course, but typically they are spent alone; this is an uncommon occurrence. Now, anyways, you wish you had a way of contacting people. You already feel homesickness writhe around in your stomach, and your dread for what is going to happen next is outmatched by your gnawing curiosity regarding the fate of your family in the fire. Of course, you know their chances for survival was close to none, but—

“Y/N?”

You almost jump out of your skin, having not noticed the sinking of the couch next to you. You look over at the speaker, relaxing slightly. You put your hand on your chest. “Sorry,” you breath to Donatello as you try to calm your beating heart. “I uh, kinda zoned out.”

“It’s alright.” His posture is awfully stiff. “I just figured—ya know, since we’re going to be interacting more—we should uh, get to know each other a bit.”

You nod as you stretch your legs back out. “Sounds like a plan.” You turn your body to face him, shaking a little from the start but getting over it relatively quickly. “Oh, by the by, you’re the one that can kill me with your bare hands. You can and should relax.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Was it that obvious?”

“A little,” you shrug. “But, in your defense,” you smile playfully, “if some random bitch walked up to me and started telling me every detail of my past, I’d be hesitant to get too friendly too.”

“Oh, it’s not that!” He put his hands up, talking oddly quickly. “It’s just that you’re the first human I’ve ever met, and really the only person I’ve ever really talked to that isn’t one of my brothers or Splinter—”

A memory slaps you across the face. “Oh! Right!” You grab his hands, making sure his full attention was on you. “I gotta tell you something really important.”

He went red. “W-what?”

“I don’t think it’s wise to tell you outright exactly what’s going to happen,” you start, impulsively running your thumb over one of his knuckles, “but if you run into a triceratops man, or if you hear about a triceratops man, you have to kill him immediately.”

“I- huh?”

“Three or so episodes before the season three finale,” you repeat, “you or someone else is going to run into a triceratops man, who you have to kill. If you let him live, the world as you know it will be destroyed and sucked into a black hole.”

“Black hole?” He blinks. “So, in a few months, we—what?”

“Well, they call it a black hole, anyways.” You roll your eyes. “It’s pretty weak sauce for a black hole. I’d hasten to call it more than a portal, but, I guess, technically, it’s a black hole.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about this sort of thing.” He smiles awkwardly. “You know, for someone who just kinda popped out of the blue.”

“Well, yeah.” You smile back. “People like you inspire me to learn more about how the world around me works.”

His pupils dilate, and he breaks eye contact. “Wait, but you said that we had at least until the season five finale, right?” You feel his thumb wrap around yours slightly. “If that’s the case, how can a black hole destroy our world? We’d die with it, wouldn’t we?”

“See, you would think that.” You shrug, letting his hands fall between you two. “But the show is already playing fast and loose with science in general, so.”

“I am legitimately so confused right now.”

You sigh, patting him on the shoulder. “Me too, buddy.”

“I just—“

“Honey.” You stifle a giggle. “No combination of words will make any of this make any more sense than it already does.”

“I know, but—“

“Listen, if you ask me any more questions, we’ll start having to deal with more time travel bullshit then we’ll already have to.”

He sighs. “Okay, I’m dropping it.”

You nod, already feeling the sting of guilt. “But, hey,” you nudge with your shoulder teasingly, “if it makes you feel any better, you definitely got the most sugar than your brothers.”

He blinks. “What does that have anything to do with that?”

“Compensation? I dunno.” You pull your legs under you. “Just trying to make up for the fact that it’s really not a good idea for me to give out too much info about an uncertain future.”

There is an awkward pause.

“So,” Donatello asks gently, “if you don’t mind me asking, you said you died, right?”

You nod.

“So, uh, how did you…?”

“House fire.”

He blinks. “You… you remember—?”

“Yup.” You chuckle tightly. “Every excruciating detail.”

He tenses slightly. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “Don’t be. Not your fault.” ‘My fault, actually.’

He rests his head on his hand. After a pause, “Do you know, then?”

“Know what?”

“You know, what happens after.”

You shake your head. “I blacked out and now I’m here. I’m guessing you don’t run into a ton of people like me.”

He cracks a smile. “I don’t really run into a ton of people period.”

You try to help lighten this stifling mod you have created. “Well, I’m glad your first introduction to humanity proper is through some psycho pseudo-Cassandra.”

“Less Cassandra and more just general prophet.” He grins. “If Raph believes you enough to go off the handle—well, I guess that’s just Raph in general.”

You chuckle. “Hey,” you whine teasingly, “lay off your brother. Obviously he’s a very levelheaded man.”

“Totally.” He rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Cool as a cucumber, that guy.”

“Speaking of, where is everyone?” You look around the noticeably empty living room.

“Sleeping, probably. I tend to stay up later than they do.”

“And why’s that, Bill Nye?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier to work when people aren’t asking for help with things.”

“That is very fair.” You close your eyes as you lean against the back of the couch. “I must say, I’m not envious of your position.”

You hear him shift closer. “Why’s that?”

“If you don’t already, you’re probably—at least, from what I’ve seen,” you clarify. “Well, it seems like, sometimes, you have the world on your shoulders. It can’t be a good feeling.”

A pause. “I guess you could say that, yeah.”

You stretch upwards. “But” you continue, moaning softly as you feel your muscles crack, “if it makes you feel any better, I have—or at least had— access to the internet. I will gladly explain google.”

He clears his throat. “The internet search engine or the number?”

You grin. “Either or, although I would most certainly lose track if my zeros halfway through at best.”

He laughs. “It took me so long to figure out how to say it,” he sighs, “The trick is to just say zero for a long time and eventually just kinda zone out. You can really just stop after fifty and people won’t notice.”

“See,” you open your eyes, wrapping an arm around his shoulder—he certainly stiffened up quick— “that is why I like you, Donnie. You always know the score.”

He relaxes quickly. His speech is slurred a little. “You like me?”

“Hell yeah I do!” Your voice is noticeably lighter than it was before, more relaxed. “You are totally awesome, if you’ll pardon my candor.”

“N-not at all!” He smiled bashfully. “I’m flattered, really. I just—I’m surprised is all. I didn’t think you’d—uh—_like_ someone like me.”

“What? Why?” You are, apparently, extremely dense. “You’re the coolest guy ever!”

“Well, I’m not really a guy.”

“Wait, is this the whole turtle thing again?” You roll your eyes, leaning into him as you close them. “Dude, legitimately? I don’t care.”

His voice softened. “You what?”

“I don’t care. You’re smart, reliable, funny… I mean, what isn’t there to appreciate?” ‘I didn’t expect him to feel warm.’ “If I’m being honest,” you shrug in an attempt to stay casual, “and, if you promise not to give me shit—”

“I won’t,” he promises, almost eagerly.

You smile. “I will admit that I had a thing for you, along with many other people where I’m from. Fictional crush, you know.”

“You’re joking,” he challenges.

“Scout’s honor.” You raise your right hand, already starting to zone out. ‘Really warm…’

“You’re serious?”

You hum in confirmation. “I don’t…” You yawn, the weight of the incredible stress admittedly starting to take its toll. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable after what I just said,” you mumble, curling into him, admittedly not in your right mind, “but do you mind staying here until I fall asleep? Sup… surprisingly enough, you are ridiculously warm and comfortable and warm.”

He tenses up a little, but slowly wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Yeah. I’ve got nothing better to do.” His voice is gentle, soft.

“I owe you cupcakes.” You nod off.

--

You could tell you boosted his confidence if only a little bit. He stood taller the next night; admittedly, you feel a sense of pride at his pride. At least, it makes up for the verbal abuse from his brothers when they find you asleep together.

As you walk down the street that next night with Donnie shadowing you, you consider the pros and cons of revealing more about what you know; although there were certainly more items for pro, the chaos theory was sort of a big deal, and, knowing the reputation of this franchise and its post-apocalyptic bullshit, the last thing you need is to tempt fate. Still, something about this felt wrong, like not telling someone to get out of the way of a moving car. ‘Wish I were Cassandra,’ you think bitterly. ‘At least I wouldn’t feel bad.’

You stop in front of the offending building. ‘Finally.’ You look around for your chaperone and, after not seeing him— ‘Fucking ninjas, man.’—sigh and give in. “Good night,” you said to the open air.

You look back at the door, startled to see someone looking back at you. ‘You are fucking with me right now.’ You wave awkwardly as the man holds the door open for you. You step inside the building, making a beeline for the elevator. ‘A doorman? Really?’ The lobby was entirely too hotelish for your liking, the warm lighting bouncing off the smooth tile cleanly. ‘How much is this place, anyways? It’s fucking New York.’ You press one of the buttons. ‘If I’m the one paying rent, I am royally fucked.’

Somehow, via some sort of divine intervention, you find the apartment. You take the key out of your pocket— ‘Note to self: scavenge up enough money for a keychain.’—and stepped inside.

The apartment made you do a double take. It is so… familiar. Nicer than usual, more polished, yet somehow exactly how you’ would have used the space. The floors are hardwood, the walls painted a relatively neutral color that is easy on the eyes. As soon as you enter, you see the kitchen to your left; small, but considering it is only you, it would be perfect. To your left, down a short hall, is a bathroom—bright white surfaces with black countertops. And in the only other room in the apartment, in front of you, is a bed, a couch, some chairs, a table, a chest of drawers, a closet, a television, and a coffee table with a phone and an envelope on it.

You walk over to a large window overlooking the street, shutting it and sitting down on the couch. You pick up the letter first, carefully breaking its seal and pulling out a note and a card. Your heart leaps as you see your name in white lettering. ‘Well, having a credit card doesn’t sound too bad.’ You place it back onto the table as you start reading.

“Dear Y/N L/N:

We understand that the transition between your previous life and this one may be difficult, and we at The TIS are more than happy to provide for you and your needs during this transition period. Your questions are likely numerous. That is the purpose of this document, to address any concerns you may have.

Finances/Personal Belongings: The most noted concern of those just beginning in our program is to do with housing. We understand that it is incredibly important to the mental health of our members to have relatively stable housing, especially considering the strange, new environment they have been thrown into. Your residence is paid for by the TIS. All necessary emergency services (repair costs of any sort, medical bills, phone bills, etc.) and any utilities that may be included in said residence are also covered by this plan. In addition, your TIS assigned debit card will receive a daily balance of $300 (balance will change with inflation), which can be used at your discretion. Your residence has been pre-furnished to what our experts believe to be your taste, and your refrigerator and cupboards are filled with a variety of raw food items. Silverware, crockery and cookware has also been included. You have also been provided with various detergents and whatever hygiene products you used before your transition. These things will be replenished biweekly unless, for whatever reason, you start using different food/hygiene products. In this event, your inventory will be adjusted accordingly.

You are currently in position of one (1) weeks’ worth of clothing, including any undergarments applicable, which includes 7 pairs of pants and 7 shirts taken from your wardrobe, along with any clothing you are currently wearing.

Cell Phone: Your TIS assigned cell phone is, practically speaking, identical to your previous device. Any streaming services you were previously subscribed to, along with any you may decide to subscribe to, are covered by the TIS. Your login information is included with your banking/personal information, all of which is included in this envelope. If you wish to upgrade your phone as the years go by, or if you wish to purchase a second device, these log ins will still be available to you, although you will be required to purchase any additional software/electronics through our website: www.TISShop.org/FU. A charging cord and block are located by your bed. We recommend purchasing a case for your device.

Please note that all websites/services/apps previously available to you are also available via TIS approved electronic devices.

Employment: Employment has not been taken the TIS. We do not offer employment, although minors have been provided with a permit in the event that you chose to enter the workforce. If you choose to enter the workforce, aid will continue to be provided.

Enrollment: All minors are required by the TIS to enroll in their local school. Any documents required are provided in this envelope. If you are currently attending a college/university, or are thinking of enrolling/reenrolling, any credits you have accumulated will be transferred to whatever college/university you choose to attend. If you are currently a minor considering attending college, your funds will be provided by the TIS if applicable.

Identification: Any websites/services/products that are age restricted will be available to you, regardless of age.

Death: We at the TIS assure you that unnatural death, in your current situation, is not a matter that you need concern yourself with. While it is certainly possible to die, it is extremely unlikely, and we have the policy in place in the event of your death.

We at the TIS are aware of your awareness of the place you are now in. We wish to stress the importance consuming any media associated with the world in which you find yourself. If you gain nothing from this letter, please remember that we at the TIS are here for you, if only indirectly.

We wish you luck.”

The letter ends there. You check the envelope to see the other documents listed.

You stand up, picking up your new phone and laying down on the bed. You are left reeling from the little information you have been given. ‘So I was brought here. Well,’ you sigh, closing your eyes, ‘I guess I already knew that, but…’

You start scrolling through your device. Everything is still there, except for your contacts. You try to call what numbers you had memorized; they are apparently invalid.

You curl into a fetal position, clutching onto your jacket. “Well,” you mumble to yourself almost bitterly, “at least I know I won’t starve to death.” You decide against even turning the lights off as you hug yourself tightly. “This,” you decide, “is going to majorly suck.”

You nod off, already dreaming of smoke.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[damn-behzinga]

Unconventional Family

Ethan Payne & OC! Sister

summary - Ethan meets his half sister for the first time and he decides she should meet his family, the sidemen.

warnings - abandonment issues, bad dads

request - Can you do a  behzinga imagine where he has like an older sister and the boys meet her. the sister isnt the reader tho

masterlist + request info

a/n - I used the name ‘Naya’ in memory of Naya Rivera because Glee was a childhood favourite of mine. I will forever miss her, Naya, rest easy, fly high with Cory.

gif credit @sdmngifs​

"Ethan Payne?" The woman asked causing Ethan to squint at her.

"Who's asking?"

"Um, there's no easy way to put this but-" The woman took a deep breath. "I'm your sister. My name is Naya."

"I - um-" Ethan struggled for words and instead he spat, "What the fuck?"

"I know this might come as a shock but my dad cheated on my mum with yours and I-" Naya sighed. "You don't look like him."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. He's a complete asshole." Naya snorted.

"Such an asshole!" Ethan agreed, barking out a laugh. They continued laughing until Ethan asked, "So, how did you find me?"

"Your mum still knows my mum and they talked. She was going to tell you but I said that I wanted to meet you myself." Naya took a seat next to Ethan. "Your mum is amazing, by the way. She took everything in her stride, a lot better than my mum."

"Did you keep his last name?"

"As if! There's no way I wanted to be associated with that asshole." She chuckled. "Naya Lounds." She stuck her hand out and Ethan shook it, smiling softly at her.

"So did he leave you too?" Ethan asked.

"Yup. After my mum found out that he had another son and she kicked him out. I don't remember much. I was like seven and all I could remember was the two of them yelling about some woman he had knocked up when I was two." Naya took a sip of her drink. "I saw him on birthdays  and shit until I was eighteen and then I told him that I never wanted to see his ass again."

"Oh, shit." Ethan chuckled dryly.

"So, do you have any stories about the old man?" Naya asked.

"Nothing really. Mum made it clear she wasn't having him around. He forgot my name and mum went ballistic!"

"Holy shit! What an asshole!" Naya chuckled. "Big up your mum though. She's got to be one of the strongest women I've ever met."

"She's the strongest." Ethan smiled.

"Ethan?" Josh called. "Mate, we're ditching this place and going to the pub across the street."

"Okay, just give me a second." Ethan smiled and quickly pulled out his phone. "Put your number in and we can talk about this more."

The friendship group waited outside for their friend. The tattooed man wandered out the door, smiling softly at the men.

"Get her number?" Simon commented, raising his eyes suggestively.

"It's not like that!" Ethan scoffed at his older friend. "She's family. Someone I haven't really known."

All his friends glanced at one and other trying to figure out what was going on. But, with the alcohol buzzing in their system, they shrugged it off and made their way to the next pub.

Over the next month and a half, the siblings quickly got to know each other, swapping stories from their childhood, explaining their jobs, and discussing their passions. They started to meet up weekly, text everyday. The two of them had lost so much and they were determined not to lose each other.

Then, Ethan realised he hadn't even told his closest friends about the new development in his life. So, he called Naya and told her to get ready to meet the six craziest people she'd ever meet.

So, the next week, Ethan placed the floor, biting his nails as his friends watched him from the couch.

"You have nothing to be nervous about," Josh said softly.

"Yeah, we're just meeting your friend, right?" Simon said. "I will say, this is a bit formal for us to meet a friend."

"I need to-" Ethan started and the doorbell echoed throughout the flat.

He bit his lip and walked over to the door, taking a deep breath before he opened it wide.

"Naya." He breathed out, pulling her into a hug.

"Hey. It's good to see you." Naya smiled, pulling away. "Are you friends here already?" 

"Yeah. They're in the living room." Ethan shut the door behind her and guided her to the living room.

"Boys, this is Naya." Ethan took a deep breath. "My sister."

There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to grasp the new information.

"Sister?" JJ sputtered.

"Well, half-sister, technically." Naya chuckled awkwardly. 

"I'm so confused," Harry muttered.

"It's nice to meet you guys, Ethan talks about you a lot. It's nice to put faces to names." Naya said kindly. "I know you must have a lot of questions and as I said to Ethan, I will happily answer them the best as I can."

"Your half-siblings?" Simon clarified. "Like through your dad or-"

"Yep," Naya said. "We have the same asshole dad."

Ethan laughed quietly.

"And how are we supposed to know that you aren't some crazy fan?" Josh asked, squinting.

"I've seen the birth certificate. And my mum confirmed it." Ethan explained. "I saw a photo of her and my dad."

"How long have you known that you were siblings?" Tobi asked

"Oh well, I found out a few years ago that I might have half-siblings but I never wanted to know about know my family through my dad. But I got curious and my mum had met Ruth through a friend and so I asked. And I put off meeting him for a long time, I didn't want to fuck up his life and I was worried he'd be like our dad." Naya shrugged slightly.

"Have you ever seen the video of Ethan smashing a controller into his desk when he got pissed off at a game?" JJ asked.

"No!" Naya barked out a laugh. "Please show me!"

"Or the time he almost broke his neck attempting a bicycle kick?" Harry exclaimed.

"Why didn't I know about these?" Naya laughed, shoving Ethan jokingly.

"That's not exactly the first impression I wanted to leave." Ethan snorted.

"Really? I think that's a really good way to know you." Naya argued jokingly.

"I like her already!" Tobi laughed loudly. 

"Aye, my sister is off-limits!" Ethan yelled and yeah, he could get used to saying that.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Crushing on the rival-Lukadrien June Day 3

Ok, yes I’m technically late, but I don’t care! I wanted to do a Glee AU so bad and this was so hard to do. Usually when reading Glee Klaine fics as lukadrien, Nino is at Dalton since either Nick or Jeff becomes Kurt’s best friend and you can’t split up Nino and Adrien. So Nino attended for a while before budget cuts messed up his scholarship. Kieran is from @depressed-teacup-inc and @sarcasticsparkles Divergence. I meant for him to featured just a little more but it just didn’t work out like that. Adrien’s mom is alive but is spliting up with his dad and I put Chloe in Rachel’s position when it came to dating the enemy first since it always comes up in Anderberry fics when Rachel doesn’t say who Blaine is because she doesn’t want to be accused of selling secrets to her brother. Anyway, please enjoy and we’ll see if day 4 actually comes out. Rival Musicians 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Nino said, adjusting his white tie. He��d forgotten how much he hadn’t been a fan of the Quantic Academy uniform. The pale blue shirts with the black blazers and white ties weren’t his aesthetic and even though it sucked to lose his scholarship, he’d been beyond happy to never put the uniform on again. He looked over to Marc and Nath, who seemed to pull it off with ease.

Totally unfair.

“I can’t believe you let Alya and Marinette bully you into coming to spy.” Nath said.

“No you’re not.” Marc clarified. “Remember how we got together?”

“Yeah, no. this fits perfectly. We should just be glad Chloe wasn’t the one to find out you used to go to school with our competitor. That would have been worse.”

“Yeah, especially since we all experienced her dating the ‘enemy’ last year. Last thing I need is her accusing me of giving secrets away. I really don’t want to bring up her asshole ex in her face. She’s finally starting to open up again.” Nino said.

“Where’s Adrien?” Marc asked, changing the subject. “You made it sound like we have a small window.”

“We do. Assuming things haven’t changed in a year, teachers take the afternoon to have a meeting while letting the students study and such. Or in the Warbler’s case, have impromptu performances to test songs out. If we don’t want to get caught, we need to be there when the mass text goes out and everyone is heading to the Senior Commons.”

Just then, a very familiar silver car pulled up in front of the boys. Adrien climbed out, in a black leather jacket and a white rocker tie but still in the same colours.

“Sorry I’m late. Mom promised the appointment would be over before I had to leave, but divorce proceedings involving my dad aren’t exactly easy. They were arguing over my ‘modelling’ career for a full hour before my mom’s lawyer managed to shut my dad up. I think, that woman speaks like a pirate and is just as ruthless and doesn’t like my dad, so she could have been insulting him for all I know.”

“Sorry you have to deal with this.” Nino said, patting his best friend on his shoulder.

“You haven’t modelled for almost 3 years. Your ‘career’ is just your dad reusing old photos of you for campaigns.” Nath said. “We can only hope we don’t have another instance like when it was your first day at school and you ran into the glee room to hide from your fans.”

“But, hey! We got you out of it.” Nino said. “You stick out like a sore thumb though.”

“It’s not my fault. You said you had enough extra uniforms. You’re the one who didn’t include yourself in the count. Let’s just be happy I have enough clothes to make an iteration of it.” Adrien said.

“Fair enough. Come on.”

All four of them walked into the main building. It was beautiful, a mix of old architecture and new, like a classic hotel or something along the lines. They slowed when Nino did as they approached the front desk, which was thankfully empty with a note to call when arrived.

“I’m so happy the headmaster uses the front desk secretary as his own. I mean, she gives as good as she gets and doesn’t take shit, but she’s also got a practical eidetic memory.” Nino said. “Ok, now there’s a student that we called the Caterpillar – he lived in my dorm and everyone had Alice in Wonderland names – who has access to everyone’s phone number and he’s in the Warblers, so he sends out a massive text message to everyone.”

“How are we even sure they’re planning on doing a performance?” Adrien asked.

“We don’t but I know so close to competition time Marin would want to practise when they have the chance, so at the very least we can peak into the Senior Commons were they practise.”

They got to the first hallway and Adrien saw that what he thought ground level was actually the first floor.

“Cafeteria is downstairs and exits for the gardens and the library. This floor holds some classrooms and common rooms, more classrooms and offices upstairs. The Senior Commons is actually down the hall and downstairs. They got first pick when the place was being built and it has the closest exit to where the dorms are.”

“Should we hang near there or somewhere else?” Nath asked.

However, before Nino could offer a suggestion, the one thing Adrien dreaded pierced through the empty and quite hallway.

“Ohmygod! It’s Adrien Agreste!”

Adrien liked anime, especially the feel-good ones. The one he liked the most was Gakuen Babysitter. The scene before him reminded him of when the twins’ father, a famous actor came to school and was found out by one of the students and suddenly the area around him were swarming with fans. What happened was a bit like that, except screaming boys instead of girls and Adrien actually got a head start in running away.

Nino hated his best friend had to suffer through this, so when he was separated from him and the rest of the guys and only found Marc and Nath not long after, he felt worried.

“Where’s Adrien?”

“We thought he was with you.”

“Ok, screw Marinette and Alya telling us not to get caught.” Nino said, pulling his phone out and scrolling through his contacts until he reached one with the name being just a butterfly emoji. “If they want info, they can come look themselves. My best friend is in a school that’s not desensitized to him being around and we’re find him before we leave.”

Of course, before he could call, he saw a text from the same butterfly named person.

I’m gonna let Marin yell at you for coming to spy.

Nino cursed. He’d been hoping to avoid that. Marinette and Alya were bad and Chloe worse, but Marin lording over him with his gavel, that was something he didn’t miss from attending school here.

But don’t worry. A certain blue haired Hatter was placed in the little Alice’s path. He’ll take care of him. Also, I know a certain March Hare misses you too.

Ok, maybe he’d have to kiss that Caterpillar after all.

                                       ____________________

Adrien slowly opened the door after finally hearing the hallway fill up and all move in one direction. Everyone was speaking excitedly, so no one noticed Adrien slipping out and joining the crowd. He looked around, hoping to see 3 familiar faces but no luck. he didn’t even know if this crowd was people going to see the Warblers. He bit his lip, trying to decide what to do. He could ask and then be in a bad spot if someone recognised him or he could ask what was going on and duck into a bathroom if it wasn’t Warblers related. He decided to risk it.

“Excuse me,” he said, tapping someone on the shoulder. The guy had dyed blue hair and when he turned around Adrien saw he had the piercings to match his punk look. The uniform really didn’t match him at all. “Hi, I’m new here. What’s going on?”

He gave Adrien this smirk as if to say, ‘I know why you’re here’. “I’m Luka.”

“Adrien, nice to meet you.”

“Adrien. Well, don’t worry, I won’t scream your name. and to answer your question, the Warblers are doing an impromptu performance.”

“Oh.”

“If you want, I can take you there. You know, bump into your friends who came to spy with you.”

“S-spy? I didn’t come to spy.”

“Right, so your lack of uniform and Nino being here is a happy coincidence.”

Adrien couldn’t really think of a lie, so thrown off. He let out a squeak when Luka grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. This one was emptier and Adrien took a closer at Luka. his uniform was perfect but his shoes were emblem covered high tops. His nails were painted and fingers home to a few rings. He also noticed a few bracelets peaking out from under shirt sleeve. Luka seemed like such an anomaly in his perfect uniform but things that spoke to his personal aesthetic.

Before he knew it, they were back in a crowd as they entered a room, no doubt the Senior Commons.

“Shot, I do stick out like a sore thumb.” Adrien said, once he saw himself compared to everyone.

“I don’t know, I like your version better.” Luka said, tugging at one of the lapels of Adrien’s leather jacket. “Your friends are over there.” He nodded towards the door, where Marc, Nath and Nino were, all standing on their toes trying to look over the crowd. Nino got distracted by someone with light brown hair and purple rain boots, but Marc and Nath spotted him.

“How did…?”

“I’m sure Nino will tell you about the special ways of the Warblers.” Just at the front of the room, 2 lines of boys appeared as they started to create a beat. “Now if you excuse me. Kieran!”

The guy Nino had been talking to darted over to the lines and Adrien took his place, hearing his friends ask him what happened and if he was ok, but his attention was focused on Luka, who stood in the very front singing.

Before you met me, I was alright But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life Now every February, you'll be my Valentine Valentine

Let's go all the way tonight No regrets, just love We can dance until we die You and I will be young forever You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream

He was good, really good. And he kept staring right at Adrien.

“That’s Luka. we were roommates when I was here.” Nino said, finally getting his attention. “He was well on his way to being lead vocalist when I left.”

“He’s really good.”

“Yeah. Don’t let his accessories fool you, he’s a cool guy.”

Yeah, he was.

When the song was over and the room burst into loud applause, cheers and whistles, Luka found his way over, with the same guy who’d been talking to Nino before and two new people. They reminded him a bit of Marinette and Alya, though one of them had a sever expression currently directed at Nino.

“You come spy and you don’t even come to say hello? I’m ashamed of you Nino.” The one who reminded Adrien of Marinette said.

“Please give it a rest Marin.” Nino begged.

“No, no, let him suffer more. I’m enjoying this.” Kieran said.

“Just to check, you’re not going to report us, right?” Marc asked, looking nervous.

“Don’t worry. Your attempts are endearing and we know Nino wouldn’t bring you over here without good reason.” The other guy said. “we’re not planning on using that song for the Sectionals, so you won’t go home empty handed.”

“How about coffee? Nino doesn’t know this, but we finally opened the coffee bar in the cafeteria, student run. We can stay here if you want.” Luka offered.

In the end, Adrien waited in the room, with Nino getting dragged to be lectured by his old friends and Nath and Marc having such complicated orders, it just made more sense to go with them. Adrien looked around the commons, taking in the couches and many side tables. A few had an almost permanent show print in them, like they’d been jumped on. The few people inside the room still paid his no attention, other than glancing at him.

“Here you go.” Luka said, handing him a to go cup. “Nino mentioned you didn’t like coffee so I got you hot chocolate. Better than most cafes, we make our own with milk.”

“Thanks. Where are the others?”

“Kieran is still making Marin lecture Nino and it turns out Alan is a fan of your friends’ comic, so just me for now.”

“That’s fine. Maybe you can tell me why the tables have footprints on them.” Adrien said, tugging his jacket off as Luka plopped down next to him.

“I have a habit of jumping around on tables during practise. Marin yells at me for it, but I can’t help it. Which is surprising, since I’m pretty stationary during performances.”

Adrien let out a little laugh. “You sound like my cat. Doesn’t matter how many cat perches we have for him; he just climbs up anywhere else. Granted, focusing on him and glee has been a godsend for my mental health recently.”

“Yeah, I’m sure dealing with arguing parents and divorce isn’t easy.”

Adrien looked over at Luka, confused as to how he knew that.

“Oh, yeah. My mom is your mom’s lawyer.” Adrien raised an eyebrow not believing him. “She sounds like this.” Luka said in the same thick accent Anarka had.

“Holy, hey wait. Juleka is Anarka’s daughter, which means she’s…”

“My sister. Competing against each other, but don’t worry. Music is sacred in our house so we don’t play dirty.”

“Whoa.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t go fishing for anything. I just thought that things must be pretty difficult. Your dad makes mom pretty upset.”

“Yeah. It hasn’t been easy. The whole divorce hasn’t but this modelling thing is making things worse. Honestly, I’d be happy with glee drama. It’s the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”

“I get that. I’m older than Juleka, but I’ll be graduating at the same time as her because I ended up pulling out of school for a while. During all that, music was the only thing that made sense.”

“Was everything ok?” Adrien asked.

“Come here.” Luka led Adrien over to a piano that sat in the corner. “Take a breath and listen.” He ordered, resting his fingers on the keys. He watched Adrien do as he was told and he let his fingers move across the keys.

Adrien stared as he heard the emotions he’d been feeling were played. Every note and beat was everything.

“I’ve never been good at words. Mom struggled to get me to talk but she knew I liked music, so that started to become my voice. I guess the easiest way to explain it is I’m an empath. I can hear emotions and I tend to stay quiet. Some people at my old school didn’t like that I kept quite or I could play what they felt. Add on the muscle heads who didn’t understand that liking guys didn’t mean I liked them, things got insane. So I left and came here.” Luka ended Adrien’s song and sat on the bench to look at the blonde. “Even though music sort of got me into that mess, I get it being the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”

Adrien sat next to Luka. “And now you have glee. I was running from fans when I ran into our glee room. Mlle Bustier was ok with letting me hide there but when I saw how much fun everyone was having singing, I wanted to do the same. It’s been my escape.”

Luka bumped his elbow into Adrien’s side. “And people think models aren’t anything like us.”

“I’m really sorry you had to deal with that stuff, but I guess if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met Nino and he wouldn’t have taken us here and we wouldn’t get to meet.”

“Guess there’s a silver lining for everything. It’s a shame we’re going up against each other in Sectionals. Hanging out with you would be fun.”

“Well,” Adrien said, shrugging, “No one said we can’t text.”

“I thought one of your team members dated a guy from an opposing team?”

“Who said anything about dating? We’re just texting. I mean, Nino texts you and the others, right? What makes me so different?”

Luka let out a laugh. “Fair enough. Adrien Agreste, rebel. I think you’ve been around my mom too much; she’s starting to take an effect on you.”

“You say that as if being a rebel is a bad thing.”

                                          ______________________

Well Adrien wasn’t a rebel, but he did enjoy talking to Luka. he was easy to talk to and they had a lot in common. When employing the same rules Juleka and Luka had on their houseboat when it came to glee, it was easy to forget he was competing against him. Nino encouraged it when he found out.

“Besides, if you end up liking Lu and asking him out, then I can ask Kieran out. Maybe. I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

It wasn’t hard to like Luka. he was good looking and funny and nice and his singing voice was amazing. But Adrien also knew dating during competition season was asking for another Chloe situation even if Luka would never do what that asshole ex did. So, Adrien made a deal with himself, he’d ask Luka out after Sectionals. One of them would win and then they wouldn’t compete anymore unless a space opened up. It would be fine.

I used to rule the world Seas would rise when I gave the word Now in the morning I sleep alone Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes Listen as the crowd would sing "Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key Next the walls were closed on me And I discovered that my castles stand Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

And of course listening to Luka sing Viva la Vida made Marc lean over to him and tell him if he didn’t ask him out, he would.

But like the world was against him, both the most amazing and worst thing happened. They tied. Chole had said how rare that happened. Adrien could only think about how he felt cheated out of asking Luka out. Which was why he waited in the bathroom, waiting for Luka to come in.

“Hi.” Luka said when he came in. he looked a bit disheartened and Adrien really hoped he was reading the reason right.

“Hey. Congratulations by the way. Your Viva la Vida was amazing. Chloe thought so too and she doesn’t compliment the competition much.”

“Thanks. I know you said you were a countertenor but I never expected you to hold that note in So much better.”

“Thanks. Um, listen. I really hope I haven’t been reading the signs wrong, but…I like you, enough to tell myself that after Sectionals were over, no matter what happened, I’d ask you out. But I wasn’t expecting us to both win. But that hasn’t exactly discouraged me.”

“You haven’t been reading them wrong. It was my plan too but it would really be a bad idea to date. The stakes are even higher now. Though…God, Marin might kill me for suggesting this, but how about one date? One date to get it out of our system and to also give us something to look forward to after Regionals. There isn’t a chance we’ll tie again so it’ll be fine after then, but I don’t think either of us can wait that long.”

The door to the bathroom opened and Nino poked his head in. “Adrien, bro. the bus is here, time to go.”

“Yes.” He said to Luka as he headed to the door. “I’ll text you.”

As Nino dragged him to the bus before the group got angry, Adrien told him what he and Luka planned on doing.

“As your teammate, this is a horrible idea. As your best friend, this is the best idea ever and I demand details after.”

[faithfulcat111]

Sorry for the super long delay, but with the worst of the Black Friday retail period behind me and my term paper turned in, I can finally focus on this AU again. Okay, part 8 here we go:

‐Eudora goes back to Vanya's apartment with Diego and Five with a demand of an explanation. Allison and Vanya are already bak. Five is understandably upset now that Meritech has been destroyed as it was his only lead and Vanya just takes him back to the bedroom to try and talk to him see if she can calm him down and come up with any leads.

-Diego tells Eudora that this brother is the one that went missing 17 years ago and thanks to some time-traveling shenanigans, he wound up in the apocalpyse, hence his general appearance and attitude. Now he is back and trying to stop it. Their only lead is an eyeball that Five had found that was manufactured at Meritech which is why Diego was there the other night. "So you broke in to steal records?" "Technically, my brother did. I was just there as lookout." "What about the guys?" Diego has no clue who they are, but he says that they were planning on trying to see if the record existed yet because the eye was made this week. And they are guessing that the people trying to stop them destroyed the lab so they wouldn't get the info.

-Eudora says that she was investigating the lab on black market selling, which is how they learn about it this time. But the records they were going to seize were destroyed in the fire too. Diego is not happy cause Eudora almost gave them a new lead, only for it to be taken away again. And now they have nothing. Eudora isn't so sure she believes Diego, but he seems convinced and it is keeping him from his usual trouble-making that causes her stress, so she says she'll let him know if she finds any info and goes to leave.

-This is when Allison speaks up, "What about the creepy guy who has been stalking Vanya?" She explains how she keeps seeing this dude when out with Vanya who seems to be watching them. Vanya has a name cause he tried to take violin lessons with her, but Vanya had to postpone due to Five showing up.

-Vanya has reemerged by this point. Not totally convinced that this guy is a the start of the apocalypse, but she does agree that he is acting funny, so she gives his name to Eudora who agrees to check if she can find any official records and Allison will check the library for public records.

-The next morning, Vanya gets a call from Klaus at the Academy that they need to come back cause something is wrong with Luther and he can't handle this by himself. Diego goes with Vanya and Five back to the Academy (Allison had already taken off to the library, but they text her to meet them at the Academy as soon as she is done).

-You see, Luther had helped Pogo fix Grace and she is functioning again, no more issues from before. But Luther got to thinking while doing that that maybe the apocalpyse had something to do with the moon. Five didn't mention the moon, but considering how much many layers he was wearing, he may not have been able to see the sky cause of all the ash (this is my theory that the sky hadn't cleared quite yet). So he goes looking for the records and data he sent back from his time up on the moon. Eventually, Pogo shows him where they are, Luther finds that they are unopened, has his breakdown, starts drinking.

-Klaus comes downstairs to start his daily search for that damn book that Pogo insisted he find. He doesn't know why he has fixated on it, but nothing has distracted him so as long as he makes an effort, it also gives him an excuse to leave the house and look for drugs as well. But today, he finds Luther getting plastered at the bar and does his best to console him. Eventually, he calls Vanya cause last he heard Allison and Diego were over there.

-They arrive and try to help in their own way. Finally Klaus asks why don't they just burn it. Luther and the others are slightly confused. Klaus clarifies that vegetanold was a worldclass asshole their whole lives, why don't they just burn all the reminders of how much of a jerk he was. The moon research, the tapes, Five suggests the stupid painting in the room of him, Vanya suggests Dad's stupid red books he kept of them, the..... wait... That is when Klaus realizes and Ben helps him word, that red book that Pogo wanted him to get back were records Veggie kept of the kids. Which could potentially contain some dangerous things.

-So he admits he threw away one of the books, it got scooped out of the dumpster. Someone has it. Cue chaos. Klaus insists he's been trying to find it all over the city, but no luck. He has one part of town he hasn't gotten to yet. And he heads out with Vanya and Diego. Five and Luther choose to stay behind and gather all the stuff for a burn pile in the courtyard.

-I should also notate that Vanya has been feeling better since she woke up that day, her second day off the pills. She is considering going to her psychiatrist and getting her prescription switched cause maybe those meds weren't great.

[crackedoutgiraffe]

To the Moon and Back

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

A/N: Chapter 16

When you regained consciousness, you were greeted by Morgan who was standing over you. You could tell he was talking to you, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying. There was a ringing noise in your ear, it was nauseating. Morgan gestured for someone to come over to you. You looked around and saw panic. Everyone was running around. There were three SWAT agents that you could see, they too were laying on the ground. Hotch came over to help you too.The ringing was starting to go down, you could hear sirens and vaguely what Hotch was saying. 

“Where’s Emily?” you asked Hotch. 

He looked around for a second, “I think Morgan went to find her. Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” you stood up. You looked around at the chaos and saw Rossi exiting the MCC. You hobbled over there, “What the hell happened?”

“They set off a bomb,” Rossi pointed out the obvious.

“But where did they go? They weren’t going to kill themselves,” you clarified.

“I’ll worry about that, you get your leg looked at,” he walked toward Hotch who was waiting for Morgan and Emily to come out. Your leg had been cut in the explosion, but you had so much adrenaline you couldn’t feel it.

You limped over to a paramedic who bandaged your leg. When he was done, you went to see if there was anything you could help with. Hotch and Strauss were briefing some cops on what they needed to do. Rossi was talking to reporters. You found Garcia, who was listening in on what Hotch and Strauss were saying. You went and stood next to her. After listening for a few minutes you went back to wandering around. A few moments later you saw an SUV pulling up to the scene, so you went over to see who it was. 

Spencer jumped out and rushed over to you, “Y/N, thank goodness you’re okay,” he pulled you into a hug. When he let go of you he noticed how dirty your vest was and the bandage around your leg. “How close were you to the blast?”

“Pretty close,” your leg still hurt, but it was enough to bother you. 

He looked around for a few seconds, “I have to go and talk to Hotch.”

“I’ll come with you,” you volunteered. He didn’t protest, but you knew he didn’t like you being in danger. You both walked to find your boss who was looking over maps on the hood of a police car. 

“Y/N, are you feeling better?” He pointed at the bandage on your leg.

“I am, thank you sir.”

“Alright, let’s get to work,” Hotch turned around and started rearranging the maps. “Morgan and JJ said that the blast created a hole between the underground vaults and these tunnels.”

“You know, most of these older banks are made of granite or limestone for longevity,” Reid pointed out.

“So she knew to use a combination of C-4 and semtex to open her escape route,” Hotch emphasized.

“The tunnels let out at multiple points running west. She could still be underground,” you added.

“I know. This is what she does. She probably waited till the last minute to exit. She wants to see all this chaos,” Hotch sighed.

“We need to find the tunnel exit closest to the bank,” Reid confirmed.

“Looks like it's two blocks here, just outside the perimeter,” Hotch pointed at the maps.

“Should we head over there?” you asked.

“No, JJ and Morgan are going to be there soon,” Hotch finished and walked back to the MCC. You and Reid followed him inside. Garcia and Kevin were working through the footage. Rossi and Strauss were talking in the corner, Hotch went over to join them. Prentiss came in right after the three of you. After a few minutes, Reid’s phone started to ring. He answered it and just said yes over and over again before hanging up. 

“That was JJ,” Reid out his phone back in his pocket. “she and Morgan said the unsubs were in an alley northwest of the perimeter. 

“Yeah, this footage confirms it. Ok, I can see two figures in the car. Please tell me one of them is Will,” Garcia pulled up footage of a black SUV. 

“See how she's turned. It's like she's keeping an eye on someone in the back,” Hotch pointed out.

“Does this mean Will's in the car?” Garcia asked.

“There's somebody back there,” Rossi sighed.

“What's the license plate?” Reid asked.

Garcia enhanced the image, “that's weird. They're government tags.” 

“Federal or district?” Reid probed.

“Federal,” Garcia added.

“Well, they're either stolen or forged,” Reid stood up straight. 

“Who the hell are these people?” Garcia sighed.

“They set up roadblocks in the district from 66 to Dulles,” Strauss added.

“Wait. So we're looking for a black SUV with its sirens on. That's gonna stand out,” Kevin joked.

“Will's with them. I found his wallet,” JJ said as she and Morgan entered the MCC.

“It benefits them to keep Will alive,” Hotch did his best to comfort her.

“They must have a safe house set up,” Morgan added.

“Whoever their outside man is, that's where they're heading now. But where?” you asked.

“What's their end game?” JJ added.

“There's no logical reason. They want to create panic,” Rossi reasoned.

“She's struck all over the world, which says she might not be American, but her ideology certainly speaks to Washington. Whatever point she and her partner are making, it's important that D. C.'s the setting,” Reid explained.

“The brothers were from Philadelphia. The other partner might be homegrown as well,” Prentiss noted.

“Homeland's sending over a list of possibilities,” Strauss tried to be helpful.

“They're not on anyone's list,” Hotch sighed.

“Then how do we find them?” Strauss snapped.

“We find the common denominators between all 14 robberies and we go from there,” Hotch explained 

“So she's our only answer,” you pointed at the woman on the screen.

“For now,” Hotch was getting angrier.

“I'll call Easter at Interpol again. Now that there's been an explosion, he might have some ideas,” Prentiss left the MCC.

“I have to call the director,” Strauss followed her out.

Morgan’s phone started to ring, “Yeah, ok, thank you.” He hung up. “That was the lab. Semtex and C-4 like we thought. Red, blue, yellow wires in each, and an old phone as a detonator.”

“How old is the phone?” you asked. 

“10 years,” Morgan sighed.

“That's specific and rare,” Reid added.

“Ridiculously,” Morgan laughed. 

“Well, has anyone seen it before?” Hotch asked.

“It was last seen in a number of bombings in Chad,” Morgan continued.

“For a signature that specific, they must have been there to learn it,” you added.

Prentiss reentered the MCC, “Did Easter have any insight?” Hotch asked. 

“A woman they called Lady X stole a sedan from Scotland Yard 8 years ago. The investigation concluded she was a trained assassin. She disappeared,” she explained.

“So Lady X and Queen of Diamonds is the same person?” Rossi questioned.

“It sounds like it,” Prentiss continued.

“Garcia, look at assassination attempts around the civil unrest in Chad,” Hotch ordered.

“If she was a hired gun, she was likely taking orders from someone,” Reid pointed out

“Maybe she's still working for the same guy now and he's still pulling the strings,” you continued.

“Or maybe she's found her equal,” Hotch proposed.

“Their obsession with killing and domination has culminated in what we've seen today,” Prentiss noted.

“Getting off on the disaster they've created. Classic symphorophiliacs,” Reid mentioned.

“Then this isn't over,” Hotch sighed.

“Far from it,” Rossi concurred.

“No. Now that they've gotten away with this, where are they gonna strike next?” Hotch asked.

A cop entered the MCC, “We have reports of an EMT being shot, cameras show your people.”

“Rossi, JJ, you two go check it out,” Hotch instructed. The pair left swiftly. “Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid, look back at what we know and see if you can figure out where the next attack is going to be,” they all nodded and got ready to leave. “Y/N stay here and help Garcia and Kevin.” Hotch made a quick exit after that.

“Kevin, what have you got?” you got off of the counter you were sitting on.

“Just going through…” Kevin replied, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“They did that on purpose, right? I mean, we saw everything until they had Will,” Garcia frantically went through the hours of footage.

“Well, they made a mistake,” you noted. “Leaving the cameras on gave us much more information than they realized. What time did the 911 text come in?”  

“9:23” Kevin said as he scrambled back to the beginning of the footage.

“The bank opened at 9:00. Let's go back to the beginning. I need you both on this,” you felt useless, all Hotch wanted you to do was sit here and watch Garcia and Kevin.

“Y/N, I think I’ve got something. The explosion was a distraction so they could escape. Watch. Allow me to fast-forward. All right, here's where Chris started shooting hostages. The fella next to him didn't even flinch. Doesn't even break a sweat,” Kevin pointed at the gruesome footage on his screen.

“We know he's ex-military, but still... His name is Matthew Downs. That's what he told Rossi and he wasn't lying. History shows dishonorable discharge from USMC in '04,” Garcia info-dumped his history.

“Ok, do me a favor. Keep going. To where Will walks in. Ok, now watch him. And then... Look at her. Her partner was in there the whole time, just not in the way that we thought. They shot this whole thing like a home movie,” you pointed out all of the little things in their body language.

“He could have been killed,” Garcia addressed.

“No, she wouldn't let that happen,” you corrected.

“What the hell are they doing?” Kevin asked.

“It's all part of their plan. They've created scenarios that are practically impossible to survive. When they make it, it's the ultimate high. Like an adrenaline junkie,” you explained. “Let me call Hotch,” you grabbed your phone and dialed your boss’s number. “Hey Hotch. We’re looking for one of the hostages, Matthew Downs.”

“Let me ask around really quick,” you could hear indistinct chatter on the other side. “Nobody can find Matthew Downs. ERT said that he helped them, then he disappeared.”

“That’s her partner,” you got excited that you could be helpful.

“Thank you, Y/N. Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid are walking the bank again, why don’t you help them out?” He hung up. You quickly left the MCC and made your way to the, now destroyed, bank entrance. 

You worked your way over the rumble and closer to Spencer. “So why didn't they take all the money?” Spencer asked.

“They were a man down and they had to get out in a hurry,” you answered.

“But for her, today was less about the money and more about the spectacle,” Prentiss corrected.

“Everything they've said and done was for a reason,” Morgan noted. “But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.”

“They also requested a private plane, but no mention of a pilot,” you remembered. Reid held out his hand and helped you over a large pile of rubble.

“Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012,” Spence pointed out.

“Ok, so is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D. C.? Maybe this is a political statement,” Morgan asked.

“No. It's more personal than that. It's their story,” Prentiss looked like a light bulb went off in her head. 

“What?” Morgan was still confused

“All of the details are a part of their story,” Prentiss explained. “We need to talk to Garcia.” 

Everyone scrambled out of the building and to the MCC to find out what idea Pentiss had. When you got there, Strauss and Hotch were already looking over Kevin’s and Garcia’s shoulder. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.”

“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country,” Strauss clarified.

“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them,” Emily deduced. 

“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08,” Hotch connected the dots.

“Yeah, and one or both of them are pilots,” Reid added.

“So if Garcia concentrates on that region, specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed,” Prentiss continued.

“Ok, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name,” Garcia deciphered the information popping up on the screen.

“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost. Here's the thing-- they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection. Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?” Prentiss explained.

“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss. But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08,” Garcia found. 

“Where were the most casualties?” Hotch asked.

“At a church-- no, no, a train,” Garcia quickly discovered.

“Semtex and C-4?” Morgan asked

“Yep,” Garcia finished.

“Are trains still arriving at Union Station?” Hotch asked Strauss.

“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in,” Strauss explained.

“That's why they needed Will,” Hotch noted. “Prentiss, Morgan, you’re with me.” The three of them left the MCC, followed by Strauss.

“So what’s up with you two?” you asked Garcia and Kevin.

“What do you mean?” Kevin inquired.

“Yeah, what happened between you two?” Spence joined you in your interrogation.

Garcia turned around and rolled her eyes at the two of you, “Why do you want to know so bad?”

“Because you two were a cute couple,” you explained. 

“I was planning on proposing to her, but she said that she wasn’t ready to get married,” Kevin confessed.

“That’s it?” you scoffed. “You two broke up because you didn’t want to get married and he did?”

“What’s so hard to believe about that?” Garcia asked.

“It’s just so stupid,” you laughed. “Garcia, you may not want to get married now, but you will eventually. And Kevin, just wait. You are not losing anything by waiting,” they turned to look at each other. “It’s obvious that you two still love each other,” you shrugged your shoulders at how oblivious they were.

“Let’s talk later,” Garcia placed her hand on Kevin’s knee. “Now for our turn to interrogate.”

“Garcia, I’m not hiding anything,” you kept your body language so calm that even Reid didn’t know you were lying.

She scoffed and turned to face Spencer who was a lot more nervous than you, “Dr. Reid, is there anything you would like to say.”

“No,” He tried his best to lie to her.

“How long have you two been dating?” She bluntly asked.

Reid looked at you for your approval, you nodded, “four months,” he blurted out.

“FOUR MONTHS!” Garcia jumped out of her chair, “You kept this from me for four months?” All you could do was laugh at her surprise. Reid reached over and grabbed your hand.

“Did we hide it that well?” Reid asked.

“I mean,” she finally calmed down, “we all knew something was up, but we didn’t know that.”

“I’d say we did a pretty good job,” you gave Spence a high-five.

“Does anyone else know?” She asked.

“I don’t think so,” you giggled. Garcia made you talk about your relationship until Hotch and the team got back. “How did it go?” you asked Hotch when he walked in.

“Good. We got Downs, Prentiss defused a bomb, and JJ, Will, and Henry are all safe,” he was really sweaty. “Will has to go to the hospital so JJ and Rossi are going with him, but we’re good to head back to Quantico.” Everyone grabbed their stuff and piled into the SUVs. When you arrived at Quantico everyone got settled into their desks. 

“The convention's still happening tomorrow if you want to go,” Reid stopped Garcia as she walked past her desk.

“That whole city on the brink of destruction thing kind of took the wind out of my sails, you know?” She shrugged.

“That'll do it every time,” Prentiss quipped.

“We didn't finish the inspection,” Morgan pointed out.

“No need,” Prentiss sighed

“What happened?” Reid asked.

“Um, there is a horizontal crack in the foundation. It just weakens the entire base that the house is sitting on,” she explained.

“Yeah. That does not sound good,” you acknowledged.

“So, our unsub is Izzy Rogers,” Strauss came and handed Morgan a file. “She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day. I just thought you'd like to know that. Agent Morgan, a word?” She and Morgan walked far enough away that you couldn’t hear what she was saying, she seemed to be smiling though.

“Hang on, let me check,” Hotch came out of his office, on the phone. “Oh, wait, she's here. Erin, don't go anywhere. Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night?”

“Well, it depends on if he's buying. Then I'm definitely in,” Morgan chuckled.

“Yeah, me, too,” you raised your hand.

“You hear that? We're in,” Hotch turned back to his office.

***

You spent the night at Reid’s, it was the first time you two had slept in the same bed. You went back to your apartment at around 5 to get ready for Rossi’s. He had told you to dress pretty fancy. You put on a red dress (Sherri Hill # 53097), curled your hair, and did your makeup. You went to pick Reid up at 7. The party was absolutely beautiful. When you got there, everyone was mingling and drinking. JJ and Will showed up with their son. She was none the wiser that she was actually at her wedding. Rossi had pulled out all the stops, he had caterers, lights, and a dance floor. You stood by and watched Reid show Henry a magic trick. He was so cute when he was playing with kids. You thought he was going to be a great father one day.

At around 8, Rossi asked for everyone to gather around the aisle. Will was standing at the altar with Henry by his side. JJ glided down the aisle with her mom. She looked beautiful. When she reached Will, Reid grabbed your hand and you put your head on his shoulder. After the ceremony, everyone sat at a table and Rossi gave a toast. You all ate dinner and were ready to party. The first song to play was ‘Try to Remember’ by the Brothers Four. Everyone slow-danced with their date, including you and Reid. While you were dancing, You put your head on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, “I love you,” he whispered. This was the first time he said that to you.

You lifted your head off of his chest,“I love you too,” he pulled you in for a kiss. You could feel eyes on you from every direction. When you were done, there were hoots and cheers from everyone there. 

“It’s about time, pretty boy,” Morgan came and pat Reid on the back.

“It’s been four months,” Redi exclaimed. Everyone looked at you with the same shock that Garcia had the day before.

“Great, now I owe Garcia $20,” Morgan scoffed. Rossi played some more upbeat music and you took turns dancing with all the guys and the three ladies on your team. Everyone had so much fun and it wasn’t hard to see why. Everyone shared plenty of laughs. Reid drove you home that night, as you had been drinking. You went to bed that night knowing that you and Reid loved each other. You were going to marry him, you had your heart set on it.

[tickle-her-senseless]

Important

Hey all. Just wanted to respond to questions from members of a couple of Discord servers run by the same person following a chaotic couple of days. I’m putting all the info and screenshots (minus names, pics and locations) here, so I can just direct people to this post if they have questions.

I had been intending to just head back here to Tumblr and let the situation lie, but unfortunately the reason given by the automated bot for my ban mentioned “crossing consent multiple times”. Today, friends have been sending me worried questions relating to this, so I’m concerned that the server owner may have made a similar claim in public. Now I pretty much have to say something as that’s such a serious thing to say about someone, particularly on any kind of kink scene.

The mention of consent actually relates to the server owner. Near the beginning of the lockdown, she and I were speaking a lot, she began to tease me in DMs, I responded with a piece of writing dedicated to her, we exchanged pictures - and eventually confessed a mutual attraction. We made plans for the end of lockdown, she talked about driving through Europe and showing me her favourite places. Although her English is perfect, I began learning her language through an app as I wanted to make the effort (Brits are renowned for being lazy with languages), and kept it up every day for months, amusing her with my clumsy pronunciation on calls. Sometimes she would send me explicit comments/thoughts, although I was always nervous to initiate that kind of thing.

One day she sent a message saying that she was still coming to terms with the end of her last relationship and would need to take things more slowly, as she was finding romantic sentiments (as opposed to kinky ones) hard to deal with. Naturally I replied “Of course, in that case I’ll wait for you to initiate that stuff once you’re ready”. At some point afterwards, she sent me a message out of the blue saying “I want cuddles ❤️” and I thought “oh, this is a level she’s OK with” and responded. I think it was the following day when I tried to pick up where we’d left off (without going any further, just cuddling in bed type stuff). She reciprocated and we continued. I also (in an attempt to consider her feelings) asked her if the idea of me posting an old session video on my blog for an American friend would upset her at all. Intending to reassure her about my intentions, I mentioned ”...not wanting to tickle anyone except you and saying no to all of the other UK people on the servers who are asking about post-lockdown sessions”. I also said “I do feel a commitment to you”, which (with hindsight) was probably a foolish or misleading word to use in a purely ler/lee sense.

A week later she sent a message I didn’t immediately understand along the lines of “I thought you were going to let me initiate romantic stuff, you don’t seem to have understood me at all”. I wasn’t sure what she was referring to - the recent story I’d written for her? Use of the word “commitment”? Something else? I tried to talk with her on the phone as some wires had clearly become crossed via text, but she refused for five weeks (citing not being in the right headspace), before finally calling when I sent a message explaining that anxiously waiting to mend the friendship in lockdown by myself for over a month was having a terrible effect on me mentally, and I was going to have to “throw in the towel”, wishing her luck and every happiness.

During our phone call, she claimed that the main issue had been the fluffy cuddle messages which she took to be a serious and repeated boundary/consent violation (citing her wish to avoid romantic talk). This was the last thing I expected and really shocked me. Of course I apologised frantically, repeatedly and profusely. I also said I hoped she could see how I’d made the mistake innocently and honestly when:

- she initiated it the first time, so I assumed it was something she was happy to talk about.

- when I picked up where we left off, she didn’t say “Actually, d’you mind if we don’t today?” and continued the cuddle talk instead.

She said that because she initiated it one day didn’t mean that she wanted to continue the day after - fair enough. The difficult thing to accept was the idea that she felt so violated by the attempt to carry on the next day that she found herself frozen to the point of not being able to say “actually I’m not in the mood just now” and carried on with it, and that I was at fault regardless. She even used the word “harassing” to describe it, which I found very harsh considering my inability to read minds over hundreds of miles. Especially when I couldn’t see or hear her to pick up on body language, tone of voice etc to guess that she was saying one thing but feeling a different way. She said, word for word, “It’s like when someone’s choking you and you can’t speak, you’re literally choking me!” As someone who, as a teenager, was once choked on the ground by my own father until I blacked out and lost bladder control, I did see that as a stretch at best, but chose not to challenge it as she was upset.

I also suggested that, looking back, we probably should’ve clarified exactly what was meant by “romantic stuff” when we almost certainly had different takes on it eg. I’ve cuddled after every 1:1 session I’ve ever had, even platonic ones, purely from the angle of aftercare and a sense of having shared an experience. I was told that despite our different ages and experiences of romantic love, there was only one objectively correct definition of “romantic” - hers.

We went around in circles for over four hours - I apologised over and over while explaining how I got the wrong idea and asking her to understand and forgive, while she tearfully called me a gaslighter, a consent violator, an excuse-maker, a harasser ... eventually I collapsed into tears myself (I’m ashamed to admit), totally worn down, and she softened a bit. She finally said she didn’t believe I’d done anything intentionally, and she still wanted to spend time together in the real world. We made up, spoke warmly as friends for an hour, and I left the call exhausted but relieved. After a few days’ reflection, though, I decided against ever travelling to meet her for real, as the experience had shaken me considerably - and I figured it’d be risky to meet someone in real life when I didn’t trust her completely not to accuse me over either nothing or an innocent misunderstanding. I was still wondering how to explain this to her when things got wild on the server.

A few days ago, a Tumblr user with a stated age of 18 contacted me to say nice things about my blog, which (I hope this doesn’t sound conceited) isn’t out of the ordinary. When she told me she was English and totally new to the scene, I suggested the Discord server as a place where she might make some friends (given the large UK membership) and sent her an invite link. The rest is set out in the mega screenshot saga below, which begins in the staff chat. I’m “SwiftX”, my real name is in teal, the server owner is in blue and her friend and co-moderator is in purple. All other names and locations are in black:

Before sending the last message, I actually typed out five different versions of a counter-argument before eventually deciding to step back. Being totally dismissed and lectured by two people about British labour laws and pub ID measures by two non-Brits nearly a decade my junior was irritating, yes, but the baseless suggestion that maybe I’d done something in private with the new member and was somehow “arguing against” ensuring she wasn’t a child because of that horrified me. As if I’d allow a child access to explicit content to cover my own discomfort - and anyway, I’d done no more than exchange greetings with the girl and point her towards the server, where she was actually verified and granted access to all channels by the guy in purple, not me! After a couple of hours’ contemplation, I politely asked to be removed from the moderator staff, but a disdainful response to my request prompted me to explain it, and why I was upset. Not all of what I said was necessary to say, but all of it was true:

She immediately muted me for 48 hours - “staff disrespect and degrading comments”. Not a problem, I had work to be getting on with. Late that evening, however, her friend arrived in my DMs:

Him: ...it’s creepy that a 32 year old man is potentially teasing a minor

Me: Well I can prove I haven’t teased her, her profile says she’s 18, and the person who exposed her to explicit content was you when you verified her - despite admitting to having had doubts about her age.

Him: ...I’ll drop that subject

Moderator of the year, ladies and gentlemen 🙄 Anyhoo, later that day I received a ban notification from both servers run by this owner, citing “crossing consent multiple times, guilting and being degrading along with causing several conflicts”. I was surprised to feel a flood of relief, but the consent mention really disturbed and worried me, as I’d been under the impression that the server owner had fully accepted that the earlier stuff had been an innocent misunderstanding. Later that day, good friends of mine began sending me worried DMs questioning my record and asking if I’d been inappropriate with a bunch of people, so I’m concerned that the staff may have said something that (deliberately or not) has encouraged speculation. This post is intended to be a landing page to which I can direct anyone concerned about my character so that they they can form their own opinions.

When my follower count began to take off, I became determined to avoid any kind of rift with another prominent member of the community. It’s so frustrating to watch an already niche subculture splinter into factions over needless disputes. This is why I’ve kept names etc. out of this post. If anyone suspects they might know who the server owner is, or actually knows who she is because they’re here from Discord, I would implore them not to out or target her in any way. There are two reasons:

- I don’t want to start a flaming war, I’m desperate to move on and begin improving my mental health after an awful couple of months ... I just need to protect my reputation first.

- I don’t actually think she wanted drama ... I think her genuine perception is that I’ve said something horrible to her. That’s more upsetting than the idea of her trying to smear me, to be honest. I suspect she feels like crap too, and I don’t want to add to her mental load. I honestly hope she’s OK.

Hopefully this will reassure my friends and anyone else questioning my character because of whatever’s been said in that server. I’d also hope that my history of positive interaction here, including being on great terms with everyone I’ve ever had a session with, supports what I’m saying further. It’s a shame this had to happen, but I’m trying to think positively about what lies ahead and trust in my real friends. I’d also like to thank the other members of the server staff who’ve privately sent me messages of support and sympathy having already seen the entire exchange.

[welcometophu]

Not Your Love Song: Chapter 34

Marked Book 2: Not Your Love Song

Chapter 34

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Sometimes it’s easier to take the instruments he needs over to Thorne’s so they can rehearse and work on new music there. Thorne’s room is huge, and as long as Casey and Prim aren’t around, the apartment is quiet enough to get work done. They’ve got Thorne’s laptop set up on his desk, pointing toward the space they’ve carved out for his instruments, where they’ve already been working for a solid couple of hours.

Rory’s tired but ready to keep going. However, Thorne’s mood has been steadily going downhill throughout the session. Thorne sets his guitar back on its stand, then stretches.

“We aren’t done yet!” Stormy calls out from the laptop. “Close, yes, but I think we’ve still got—”

“We need Andy,” Thorne says flatly. He grabs the stool next to his keyboards, turns the instrument on with a flick of his thumb before running a set of scales with deft fingertips.

“He’s with Melanie.” Rory’s phone is buzzing somewhere, and he wants to find it before he starts anything else. The sound is getting under his skin. He finds the phone under two notebooks—one his, one Thorne’s—on Thorne’s desk.

What?

Just the one message, stark and bright on the screen, but he’s got a dozen notifications. He hunches over as he opens the app to see messages from Kit, Mattie, and Stormy. He doesn’t even bother opening the latter, simply calls out, “You don’t need to text me. I can hear you fine.”

“You’re looking at your phone instead of paying attention,” Stormy says, emphasizing her point with  a quick riff on her drums. “Thorne keeps switching instruments and songs and I don’t know what he’s playing right now. That isn’t one of ours, is it?”

“It’s something I’ve been working on with Rory’s RA,” Thorne says, picking out the notes, sliding from simple melody into a line that includes the harmony. “TJ is a dancer, and his spring project is to choreograph a group. He and I came up with this, and he’s started the choreography with the bare bones I recorded from him. I need to get help to flesh it out and to play live for his final recital.”

“I thought recitals were only for little kids,” Stormy says.

“TJ is majoring in dance. It’s his life,” Thorne replies, the sound drifting back to only the melody line. “I think he’ll be doing performances for a long, long time.”

As long as they keep bantering, it gives Rory time to check his messages. He sinks down into the nearest chair, thumbs open the message from Mattie first so he can reply to her simple what.

I think Kit’s doing something that is going to attract attention, he’d sent earlier. Now he tries to figure out how to clarify it, as he describes what he knows of the plan. They’re going to rescue his old friend from the dreamscape. Kit’s got art he created through magic, and his sister’s going to travel like she did when they rescued you. Is that big enough to pull in shadows?

He switches conversations, brings up Kit’s. They’d been chatting back and forth early in the day, but Kit had gone quiet when they got in the car. We’re almost there, Kit sent a half hour ago. I’m nervous. I know Carolyn and Del have more work to do than me, but I’m nervous about what we’re going to see in there. About getting trapped in there with Sam.

And another text, from a few minutes ago. We’re here and we’re going in. Wish us luck.

Rory may be too late to reach him before the ritual. He may be too late with Mattie as well.

Luck, he sends to Kit. Come back, okay? Text me when you’re safe again.

He’s pleased that Kit at least sends back a simple, I will.

Mattie hasn’t replied, but Rory sends her one more quick text. They’re starting any minute. If you can help, please keep Kit safe.

Stormy coughs, and Rory lowers his phone. “If you’re done?” she asks.

“Are you in teacher mode?” Rory asks, but he does put the phone away. He’s done what he can, and if it starts buzzing again in his pocket he’s going to grab it. But for now, there’s not much else he can do.

“I think we need to talk about elephant in the room,” Stormy says quietly. She has one drumstick in her hand, rolling it through her fingers one at a time. “Or rather, the bassist not in the room.”

This would be a conversation Rory would rather not have right now. He crosses his arms, bites his tongue.

Thorne plays a minor chord on the keyboard, lets it reverberate for a moment before he turns the instrument off. “We have to replace him.”

“When summer’s over,” Rory counters. They only have a couple of months of school before the tour and he doesn’t want to think about trying to get a new member up to speed before they hit the road in May.

“We have a schedule of dates,” Stormy says. Her tone is sober, and she holds up a piece of paper to the camera. It’s blurry from that distance, so Thorne holds up a finger and replaces her image on his laptop with the schedule Mom sent in email.

It’s a blend of dates that mix appearances with the big outdoor festival while it’s traveling in the northeast with a few club dates on the off days, and mini tour with Trish that goes out across Ohio and down through Kentucky into Tennessee before turning west into Arkansas and Missouri and traveling north again to wind between a few dates in the States and some just over the border in Canada. It looks like they’ll be on the road for three weeks with that, and spending the Fourth of July in Nashville.

“Did you give Mom’s contact info to Trish?” Rory asks.

“I did,” Stormy calls out. “I like your folksy friend. It sounded like fun.”

“Our music—”

“Is completely different, yes, but it has thematic similarities,” Stormy interrupts. “Like I said, it’ll be fun. And smaller dates. More intimate shows, getting back to our older roots. Plus, Melanie loves country and folk music, so she’ll be coming along for those dates.”

Oh.

“Where?” Thorne says.

“Where what?” Stormy asks, like she hasn’t just dropped a giant bomb. Maybe she thinks she hasn’t. She goes to school closer to Andy than they do. She’s met Melanie more than a few times. But to Rory she’s just a stranger who’s gotten between them all and is taking Andy away from the band.

He knows she’s probably a nice girl. Smart. She must be if she’s going to medical school.

Shit. Rory’s dating a pre-med student, too. What if Kit…? No, he can’t imagine Kit ever making Rory decide between music and a relationship. And it’s way to soon to even think about it that way, anyway. Still, it makes him wonder something.

“Is Andy quitting because he wants to, or because he thinks Melanie wants him to?” Rory asks slowly. “Does anyone know if she actually asked him to stop?”

“I did think it might be interesting to have him see what it’d be like if he didn’t quit,” Stormy says idly.

“Where is she traveling?” Thorne says. “Where is she sleeping? We have a van full of equipment and a motel room. I don’t think she’s going to want to—”

“We have a budget this year; I worked it out with your mom.” Stormy interrupts him. “Put the camera back on me, please.” Rory closes the document, brings the camera and app back into focus to find Stormy waving at them. She sits back, juggling her drumsticks. “I thought this through, guys. Andy’s a part of Phoenix Rising and I don’t want to see him go any more than you do. So I’m being evil and trying to lure him into staying.”

“By bringing his girlfriend on tour.”

“By making him see that he can compromise,” Stormy counters Thorne’s words. “We’ll be getting three rooms in each motel, and Trish will be hauling her trailer and parking it so she doesn’t need a room. Andy and Melanie get one room. We three can figure out how to split the other two depending on what’s happening each night.”

Rory actually appreciates that idea. Sometimes it’s nice to be able to say he wants a room of his own, a chance for some peace and quiet after a show. And sometimes it’s nice to be able to lock Thorne into a different room. The van is off-limits for all Thorne activities; they laid down that ground rule years ago. On the other hand, Rory has slept in the van more nights than he can count just to get that peace and quiet.

He picks up his guitar, runs his fingers along the neck, idly fretting through chords without playing. Stormy taps her drumsticks, and Rory picks up the beat, finding the song they’d been working on. Thorne takes the cue as Rory and Stormy hold on the intro, cycling through the phrases over and over until he comes in with the rhythm guitar.

The words change slightly every time Thorne sings, but that’s what this phase is, tuning the lyrics and melody until it takes shape into the final song. This one’s starting to find that form, growing into a butterfly emerging from an awkward chrysalis.

Right.

Rory grabs his notebook, jots down a few words before he drops it. That’s nowhere near ready for snippets yet; it’s barely a thought. But it’s something.

“Again,” Stormy orders, tapping out the rhythm, and this time they all hit the ground running from the start.

They do the song three more times straight through, and it’s starting to come together and feel cohesive. Rory doesn’t want to think about what it’ll be like when Andy finally joins them for practice, whether he’ll upset the flow, or maybe he’ll fit right in.

Sweat drips from Stormy’s hair as it falls across her face. “Okay, five minute bio break. I need more water.” She pushes away, the cymbals on her drum kit rattling as she moves.

“Do you ever wonder what Stormy’s roommate thinks of the drum kit?” Thorne asks, and Rory snorts. Rory figures it’s not just her roommates who notice the kit; it’s her whole floor, or building. Thorne’s sense of scale is obviously off.

Rory pulls out his phone. No message from Kit yet, but Mattie sent, I’ll take care of it. They’ll be safe. Nothing after that, but Rory feels better knowing that she’ll try to protect them.

Stormy slides back into her spot in front of the camera, picks up her drumsticks. “So. Again?”

“Switch songs.” Thorne runs through a riff, and Rory copies him. They shift from piece to piece, working through about eight songs that are nearly done, and playing around with the nascent bits of a dozen others. Rory knows they need to get at least ten into final form, preferably more, before May comes.

He has no idea when they’re going to fit recording into their schedules, especially if Andy leaves the band, but they have to plan for it. And rehearse and be ready.

Thorne keeps notes on every song, making his own cryptic comments on song order and tiny changes they can make so the album flows. He practices riffs with Stormy, and the three of them toss snippets back and forth as the music grows.

It’s productive, and Rory feels good about it when they finally pause. Thorne heads for the door to get the pizza they ordered, and Stormy puts her drumsticks down as she leans toward the camera.

“Rory,” she says softly.

“Hm?” He pushes his hair out of his face, grabs a towel to mop the sweat away. It’s not like a performance, but it’s still a workout practicing like this. Getting lost in the music takes a toll.

“I don’t want to talk about replacing him until summer’s over,” she says quietly. “I know Thorne’s angry, and he just wants to move on. He wants to cut ties and make sure Andy knows how angry he is—”

“You both exploded about it,” Rory reminds her.

“And I’ve calmed down a little thinking about it. Besides, I’m trying to be devious here, and Thorne just wants to bull ahead.” She wrinkles her nose, sits back from the camera. “Are you in for it, though? We wait until the end of summer, and we have Melanie along for the July dates, and in August we’ll figure it out.”

“Won’t Melanie decide where she’s going to school sooner than that?” It seems like no matter what they do, Melanie’s choice of schools is going through a wrench in the works. Andy’s going to follow her.

“It’s looking more and more like UVM,” Stormy says. She taps her fingers, unable to just stop moving. “So he’ll be in Vermont. And we could work around it, you know that. And if you stay with Kit, he’s going to do the same thing someday—”

“That’s a long time away.” Rory cuts her off, because he’s not ready to think about it like that. “I don’t even know what’s happening this summer other than I’m going on tour.”

Stormy nods, sitting upright as Thorne comes back in with the pizza. “Hey, that looks good. Any chance you can put some through the camera for a hungry girl?”

Thorne opens the box, holds a slice up close. “Mm, so good,” he says, taking a bite.

“Asshole. Are we done here so I can get my own pizza?” Stormy starts cleaning up on her side as Thorne nods. “Good. And oh hey, Thorne? We’re not replacing Andy until end of summer. After we record. It’ll be easier if we just get the tour and recording done and don’t have to worry about getting someone new up to speed. Besides. I think the tour will be fun.”

Thorne makes a noise around the pizza. Stormy’s timing is impeccable, catching him with a mouth full of mozzarella.

“Glad we’ve got that figured out. Bye, guys!” Stormy waves, and the video goes dark.

Thorne finishes chewing. “You two are ganging up on me.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Rory points out. His phone buzzes and he fishes it out of his pocket, holding it loosely in his lap rather than look at it yet. “She has a point, though. Let’s just get through what we can do. And in the fall we’ll move him into wherever they end up living, and we’ll find a replacement and everything can change then. But for now, we’ve got to get through summer. Besides, it’ll be a lot easier being on tour if we don’t have to constantly answer questions about why we’re breaking up.”

“True.” Thorne takes another bite of his pizza, and Rory figures the conversation is over for now.

He flips over his phone, and sees a text from an unknown number. He doesn’t read the words, just thumbs it open quickly in case it’s an emergency text about Kit.

Hi, Rory, this is Alex. Dax’s sister. I just want you to know that Mr. Malone is really sad right now. Like really sad. But it’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay that he’s sad, but he’s supposed to be. I’m really sorry you weren’t right for each other. He’s awfully cute, for an old guy, and a teacher. But he already had his person and you can help fix that.

How did she even get his number? Rory saves her number under a contact for Alex Katsoulis, because he suspects it won’t be the last time. What does that even mean? he asks.

Like I know? I just know he won’t be sad eventually, and you’ll help with that, but not because you’re his boyfriend.

Rory is pretty sure there is only one thing that’s going to make Darrik feel better in the near future. I can’t resurrect the dead.

I didn’t say you could, Alex responds. Not exactly.

Rory’s not sure he wants to dig into this conversation any more deeply, and he’s not sure it’d help if he tried. Thanks, he texts back, because he has no idea what else to say.

He’s about to put the phone away and grab his own slice when the phone buzzes again. Not Alex this time.

Kit.

We’re done, Kit sends. Carolyn’s exhausted, and so’s Pawel. I might end up taking over the driving because I’m really not sure he should be doing it. Do you want to come to Hayworth when I get back?

That thought makes Rory smile, and he touches the screen lightly. Yeah, he sends back. I’m at Thorne’s now, but I’ll be back to Douglass after I eat and clean up. Just come on over and get me, okay?

It’s a date.

“Are you going to eat?” Thorne puts a plate in Rory’s lap, two over-sized slices of pizza leaning over the edges.

Rory picks up one slice, takes a bite. He’s hungrier than he expects, after all that work, and now that he knows Kit’s safe, he’s ready to eat. He nods to Thorne’s question. “Mm, yeah. Leaving after that, though.” He grins, because it feels good to say it. “I’ve got a date.”

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[frozs]

Kakuzu discover's Hidan's backstory and its actually really disappointing and a bit shit

Part 7 of the Kakuzu and Hidan are very Australian dickheads series.

Read the rest of the shitty fics on tumblr or AO3. 

Warnings: Woolworths, Orochimaru making his terrible appearance, kakuzu noses about, no punchline, something gay happens  

Note: Set before Kakuzu and Hidan marry.  The event where a rat climbed up the sewer drain and died, and had to get rid of using a pasta spoon and a stake happened to me three days ago. It was traumatising. 0/10 don’t recommend. Special shout out to @thatshipcat, because we were on voice chat on discord while I was driving and I asked her to go on this chapter and add a few things in for the chapter for me because I can’t write and drive at the same time. 10/10 do recommend.

Orochimaru was a plastic surgeon infamous for fucking up his face enough to be stared at in the street. He was also Kakuzu’s former college, and happened to be in town this week.

Kakuzu had discovered this when Orochimaru texted him out of the blue, asking why Kakuzu was with ‘one of those Jashinist weirdos’ and wearing the Commonwealth Bank uniform. Apparently, Orochimaru walked past the bank, spotted Kakuzu as he exited, holding Hidan at the scruff of his neck, and depositing him on the side of the road to hopefully be run over.

Because Kakuzu noticed that Orochimaru knew Hidan was a Jashinist, he got a bit curious. Orochimaru must have been acquainted with Hidan sometime ago. He was certainly weird enough to be associated with Hidan. He was also knowledgeable enough that he would likely know a bit about the strange cult with the follower who was an immortal asshole.

So Kakuzu responded to the message, asking Orochimaru to meet him for drinks at the tavern near his townhouse. Even if he had no answers, Kakuzu expected it to be entertaining enough.

While normally Kakuzu didn’t really give a fuck about reconnecting with old coworkers, Orochimaru was an exception if only because the man was so ridiculous that he amused even Kakuzu.

Case in point: The last time he saw him was around ten years ago at a conference at the Medical Union meeting in western Sydney. Orochimaru had split his tongue in half, demanded he was to be only referred to with genderless pronouns and had put enough lip fillers in his lip to make them explode.  Kakuzu remembered having a bit of a smirk at that.

As Kakuzu was preparing to meet Orochimaru, however, Deidara rang him about a rat in the toilet. He immediately texted Orochimaru to tell him he would be late.

According to Deidara, the toilet rat came in from the sewers in their current place. He had refused to go anywhere near it, and so did Sasori and Hidan. A week had passed, and now the rat was lying dead in the loo, passed out from a bottle of disinfectant being poured over it to get it to stop scrambling. Deidara sat on a kmart beanbag and stared at his phone for a few hours until Kakuzu arrived and got pissed about the messy bathroom and the rotting animal. In the end, Kakuzu used a pasta spoon taped on to a wooden stake to get rid of it.

“How old is Hidan?” Kakuzu asked Deidara afterwards.

Deidara squinted at Kakuzu. “He’s like… twenty five, yeah? He was three grades above me at school.”

“...So he’s not old?”

“What do you mean?” Deidara wasn’t exactly dumb but he didn’t understand Kakuzu’s question at all.

“How long has he been able to not die?” Kakuzu clarified.

“Hmm….” said Deidara, pausing. He put a strand of blond hair behind his ear and then he said, finally, “I dunno.”

Kakuzu sighed. “You’re not very informative, you know that?”

“And you don’t really ask questions.” At least Deidara had the correct social skills to realise he was fucking about with Kakuzu. Sasori and Hidan on the other hand could not act normal around anyone. “Hidan was a nerdy religious asshole in high school. He hasn’t grown up, and never will. Argumentative as fuck, immature, and thought that putting a javelin through his leg on sports day was art. As an itty bitty year seven, seeing a year nine do that to themself… was pretty fucking cool, yeah.”

Right. So he definitely wasn’t someone who had stopped aging. “So how come you know still know him?”

“Saw him at orientation day at the University of Canberra. He’d been kicked out and was arguing with security. He said UoC was shit because you can get the same info from Wikipedia, and that they discriminated against him because of his religion, yeah. The next day, I saw him on Gumtree looking for a housemate, so we moved in together with Sasori. I decided to never go to university -  fuck HECS.”

Deidara smirked and turned back to his phone. Kakuzu tried again.

“I’ve just been in contact with an old acquaintance,” Orochimaru wasn’t exactly a friend. He was more of a science experiment from back in the day. “He knows Hidan. The name is Orochimaru. A plastic surgeon.”

“You mean Orocunt?” said Deidara, not looking up, fingers flying over the screen of his phone. “Hidan calls him Orocunt, yeah.”

“How do you know him?”

Deidara held up the stump of his arm, which had been covered in tattoos since it was blown off in an explosions accident several years ago. “Hidan recommended him as a plastic surgeon. He made my remaining arm look like an amputated arm, not like a mangled blown off stump it was with muscle and bone everywhere.”

“How does he know Hidan?”

Deidara shrugged. “I dunno.”

Deidara’s answers weren't exactly riveting or informative, but Kakuzu knew that asking Sasori would be a waste of time, he would be even vaguer.

“I’m meeting him in an hour,” said Kakuzu.

“Cool,” Deidara muttered, staring at his phone. “Hidan or Orochimaru?”

“Orochimaru. I try to avoid Hidan any day of the week.”

“I’d also avoid Orochimaru any day of the week. That MJ look was scary. It isn’t art, yeah. Good luck and don’t split your tongue in half.”

***

At the local mall where Konan’s floristry was, there was also a tavern opposite Woolworths where gambling addicts played their day away. It was a bistro with faded yellow brick walls with large pieces of ugly decor art hung up slightly crooked. It was quiet for the time of day.

While most people were fashionably late, Orochimaru arrived several hours early to any event. He was waiting for Kakuzu when he entered the tavern, looking like he did a decade ago: black straightened hair down to the waist with no gray in sight, high cheekbones and eyes slanted from several botched eye lifts. He couldn’t seem to smile like he used to, as the amount of botox he used permanently froze his face. In short, he looked more like a snake than ever. He was holding a handbag, putting something pink away when he looked up to see Kakuzu.

“Kakuzu,” he said warmly. Orochimaru refused to shake hands, as he claimed it was unsanitary. Which was no big deal, as Kakuzu didn’t exactly want to touch Orochimaru, either. “It’s been a while. I knew it was you with Hidan at the bank. What happened to your face?” He nodded towards the scars where Hidan had slashed him with a knife several years ago.

“Hidan.”

“Ah.” Orochimaru yellow eyes trailed down Kakuzu’s tanned arm, where there was a burn mark. “And what happened to your arm?”

“Hidan.” The mark was from New Years when Hidan and Deidara put fireworks in a drum in his courtyard, and Hidan’s hand was sliced off and Kakuzu had to stitch it back on together.

“You aren’t going to get it covered?”

Kakuzu shrugged, and took a laminated menu from the plastic holder. “Nobody asks.”

“I can’t imagine anyone asking you anything to be honest,” Orochimaru said. He didn’t even touch the menu, but then again Kakuzu had never seen Orochimaru eat, so he must survive on air. Kakuzu put the menu back, deciding to only get a lemon and lime bitter. “I’m surprised you have changed careers. Was being a heart surgeon too hard for you?”

Kakuzu shrugged. “Different career. Bored of the hospital. I’ve only been out of there for four years.”

“Yes, being a surgeon is ever so boring,” said Orochimaru. Kakuzu forgot how strange and sly Orochimaru’s voice was. It was like being lectured and being treated like a child all at once. He clicked his tongue, which was still split in two. “Nowadays, I go mostly on holidays around the world with my sons, Mitsuki and Mitsuki.”

“Why are they both called Mitsuki?”

Orochimaru lips struggled to smile, but didn’t say anything. After an awkward silence, Kakuzu decided to get to the point of what he really came to see Orochimaru for. “I need some information on Hidan. You are, as I remember, very good at knowing other people’s affairs.”

“Do you have to pay me to give you information?” Orochimaru raised his eyebrows at him. Kakuzu glanced around before leaned in a little. He wasn’t planning to give any money to Orochimaru, and he knew Orochimaru didn’t care about money, so it didn’t matter. “What do you want to know?”

“The other month Hidan chopped his own head off and I had to reattach it,” said Kakuzu, crossing his arms and leaning back. “How can he do that? He claims it comes from his God, Jashin. Orochimaru, I have seen him do things nobody should be able to survive.”

“I actually met Hidan several years ago on my travels in Europe with Mitsuki. I believe it might have been Croatia - they film Game of Thrones in Dubrovnik. Probably why he was there.”

Kakuzu knew that Hidan’s Game of Thrones obsession was borderline crazy, but didn’t realise that Hidan had actually gone overseas just to go on a set tour. “Croatia? Why Croatia?”

“I think he’d been all over the world, searching for Jashin.  He was a backpacker who had dropped out of high school, who was staying in the same hotel as me and my sons -  a six star hotel with golden floors and lavish marble ceilings.”

That didn’t exactly sound like a place Hidan would go. It was definitely somewhere Kakuzu would go if he had the chance, but Hidan was more of a hostel type of guy.

“I met Hidan in the lobby. He was drunk at the time, but managed to tell me many things; that he was traveling the world searching for his god, who he called Jashin; that he dreamed of him every night since he was a child; that, no matter where he went, he could not find any information about his faith or proof of his god’s existence. It drove him insane, poor thing. He must have been only 16?”

“He still is.”

“No, he has seemed to have grown down instead of grown up,” said Orochimaru.

“After a series of visions of hooded men in a golden hotel, Hidan went on Tripadvisor and looked at pictures of hotel lobbies. He then found himself in Croatia.” Kakuzu rolled his eyes at this, and Orochimaru smirked and carried on. “I’m not sure how he was able to afford the hotel - but he told me that he had been staying there for a while, watching, waiting.”

“While we were talking, these men in black hoods went down the stairs and he rushed away, ranting that these they were the people he was looking for. I did not follow him, but as I myself am interested in immortality, I took a video from the hotel security footage.”

Orochimaru took out his iPad, one of those large inconvenient ones from his handbag. As he unlocked the ridiculously huge tablet, Kakuzu noticed his wallpaper was of Itachi Uchiha from the police force.

Hidan’s hair was shorter, and sticking up at the back. He was literally dressed in - Kakuzu recognised the outfit - singlet and shorts. The Jashinist circle was drawn in white on the lobby floor - everything was golden, like Orochimaru described. People wearing summer clothes were crowded around, silent and watching the bizarre scene in front of them. Four tall figures wearing black robes hoods had circled Hidan, which seemed weird as it was June on the timestamp, and he was shouting at them in another language.

“Is he speaking Croatian?”

“No, most likely gibberish,” said Orochimaru. “Hidan is very good at shouting in gibberish.” This was true. Occasionally, Kakuzu heard Hidan ramble nonsensically, though he could never make sense of what he was saying. He returned his attention to the iPad video.

Suddenly, Hidan shoved one of the figures away. The four of them threw him to the ground, and two pinning him to the floor and the last -

“Is that a syringe?”

Orochimaru nodded. A bellowing scream, raw and loud, erupted from Hidan, and the crowd around him scattered in fright. It was truly something Kakuzu had never heard before from anyone he had killed. It wasn’t pleading, and it didn’t seem to even sound like Hidan. He could only compare it to the wretched wailing of a thousand souls… The hooded figures disappeared, leaving Hidan on the lobby floor, mouth open and body still.  

The video cut off. Orochimaru put the rather large tablet back in his purse.

“The Jashinist cult mixes serious religion with illegal experimentation,” said Orochimaru. “After this video, Hidan was pronounced dead. I was the one to call the police to take the body away.”

“How long was he dead?”

“Until the cremation, so two weeks,” said Orochimaru. “No parents, a foster kid out on the streets. They put his body into the oven… and he jerked upright and ran away. He came back to me to get his passport, covered in soot. Didn’t even say thank you.” Orochimaru flicked a bit of imaginary dust off the table.

“Since when do I ever say thank you?” A large hand clapped on Kakuzu’s shoulder. Kakuzu didn’t even turn around as Hidan sat down next to him, reached over and drank the entire contents of Kakuzu’s glass. He was wearing a fluro yellow work shirt, which was part of his medical courier uniform.

“How’s it going Orocunt? Not well I hope. I heard from someone that you were trying to get information on me. I won’t name my source, but let’s just say his name rhymes with... Gay Bara .” He turned to Kakuzu. “You could have just asked, Kakucunt. I'm an open book.”

“What’s the fun in that?” Orochimaru asked. “You aren’t known for your straight up answers.”

“True.” said Kakuzu.

Hidan shrugged. “So what are you doing here? Last I heard you were in Chile doing…South American things. Whatever people do in South America. Latin ballroom dancing and praying to statues of the Virgin Mary in back gardens.”

“What’s wrong with seeing an old friend?” said Orochimaru.

“Since when does Kakuzu has friends then aren’t money?” asked Hidan. He smirked. “Did you know Kakuzu sleeps with money under his pillow,” he voice lowered to a whisper. “ The Tooth Fairy spoils him .”

“I do not.”

“Oh, me and Kakuzu go way back,” said Orochimaru, sipping his water dainty, with a pinkie out. “Around the time of medical school. We usually partnered up with experiments, and worked on cadavers together. We also did other experiments outside of medical school, too.”

“What sort of experiments? Like on other bodies?”

“Don’t say it,” said Kakuzu.

“Say what?” Hidan replied almost instantly. “Come on, tell me the goss on good old ‘Kuzu. I’m sure Snakepants here has plenty of boring experiments to tell. Are you single and looking to mingle? Kakuzu’s your man.” Hidan nudged Orochimaru and winked.

“I’m married to myself now,” Orochimaru pointedly informed Hidan, watching his face go from interested to a slight cringe. “But back in the day, as two medical students, we slept together for a science experiment.”

Kakuzu could have facepalmed hard right now, and Hidan looked like he was either shocked or trying not to laugh. “You fucked Trump’s wife?”

Now Kakuzu was trying not to laugh at Orochimaru’s almost offensive look. Hidan looked from Kakuzu to Orochimaru. “But he’s old?”

“I’m old,” Orochimaru pointed out. “We’re the same age.”

“I forget you are even more immortal than me,” said Hidan. “I thought you would have to cut off Kakuzu’s dick to see the rings to see how old he is.”

“He is rather well endowed,” Orochimaru noted with a smirk, “but not quite the size of a tree, I’m afraid.”

“What, like Hashirama?” Hidan joked. Then his face went a bit white. “Hang on… I’ve known you for four years, Kakuzu. I thought you were ace as fuck, and you're not!?”

“Can we not discuss my sexuality?” Kakuzu was feeling a bit pissed now, because he had been forced to opened up when he didn’t want to. Kakuzu made himself uninteresting on purpose: After all, it would be incredibly inconvenient for anyone to go sniffing around in the private life of a serial killer. Besides Orochimaru, he had only ever slept with one other person - but that was a detail that he did not want Hidan to pester him with. “I have better things to do then talk about people I've slept with.”

“People?! Not just Orocunt?” mocked Hidan. “No wonder I've never seen you remotely even be interested in someone.”

“I am certain that Kakuzu is a sociopath, Hidan.” said Orochimaru. “I believe the only person he ever dated was Tsunade. What was the reason you broke up with her, again, Kakuzu?”

There it was. The one detail that he did not want Hidan to know.

“Gambling addict,” he neutrally replied, staring at the sugar packets on the table as he resisted the urge to strangle both his partner in crime and his former colleague.

“Man, Kakuzu,” Hidan clapped his hand on Kakuzu’s shoulder. “I've learned more about you today than I ever wanted to know.”

Orochimaru frowned. “I was under the assumption Hidan was your husband,” he said. “Gay marriage is legal after all.”

“I’m only gay for Jashin, you know.” Hidan kissed his pendant and happened to glance at the time on his fitbit.

“Anyway, this is the shittest conversation I’ve ever had in my life,” he said. “I was supposed to deliver a fetus to the other hospital around two hours ago. See you later, Kakucunt, Orocunt.” He stalked off, knocking over someone’s water on purpose as he left the tavern. Kakuzu watched Hidan undo the leash of his dog before driving off in his car.

His head whipped toward Orochimaru, expression furious. “Thank you for telling Hidan that,” Kakuzu hissed.

“No problem,” said Orochimaru lightly. “Thought he might have needed to know you aren’t as boring as you actually are.”

“I prefer being boring,” said Kakuzu. “I think I may go now.”

“Hang on.” Orochimaru rummaged around in his handbag. “I have done what I can with this.” Kakuzu opened his hand, and Orochimaru deposited a small volumetric flask in his palm, with pink liquid, the colour of Hidan’s strange eyes. “It is leftover materials from the syringe.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

Orochimaru shrugged. “I don’t know. According to my analysis, it is solely composed of dihydrogen monoxide.”

“Also known as water.”

“Clearly… there is more to it.”

With that, Orochimaru left, taking out a large pair of sunglasses to cover his frozen face, handbag swinging away. Kakuzu stared down at the small flask, shimmering liquid twirling from moving so much. He didn’t know what to do. Too much information, too much nosing about, but this? He wasn’t expecting this. Now, he possibly held the secret to immortality in his hands.

He put the flask in his shopping bag, and went to Woolworths. He tried not to think about what Orochimaru had told him, but it seemed there was more to Hidan then he really wanted to know. Hidan possibly wasn’t as dumb as he seemed. He got some sushi for dinner, as being with Orochimaru for too long made him hungry. He received two texts from Hidan.

HIDAN < 6.45 PM >

Kudos fr getiing.the.rat out fo the.toilest. shit was gros

HIDAN < 6.47 PM >

Got.th dog.

Instead of taking Taki for a walk, which was his usual routine, he sat down outside in his courtyard for a smoke, staring at the bottle of moving pink liquid Orochimaru gave him. He took the flask and put it in the bin along with his cigarette.

That night, Kakuzu dreamt of only one picture: The triangle encased in the circle. He could not get rid of it, and struggled to wake up from it. Finally, his unconscious brain got rid of the image, which he felt thankful for.

Until the next thing he saw in his vision was a car hurtling full speed in him.

Kakuzu woke up with sweat all over him, jerking upright, his alarm clock screaming away. He rubbed his eyes and turned to the clock, about to turn it off, and he froze.

The shimmering pink flask had returned - and it was on his bedside table. It shined mockingly with the light of his phone, buzzing with incoming texts.

HIDAN < 8.14 AM >

stupid fuckn roommmate.found another pest - a snake in the garden

HIDAN < 8.19 AM >

cme over.nd.help me get.rid.of.it

HIDAN < 8.22 AM >

bring the ricin.

[a-cat-who-likes-stars]

Dating and priorities. 1500, 18 Mar 2021

"Priorities" has been such a key word these days, because as much as I had been experimenting with a specific type of dating, I'm glad that I'm able to clarify to myself the good things among any else. This time I'll record what happened with my 1st few trials with said certain type of dating. Try to guess what kind of dating I went for, though they all took place online.

In retrospect, the first profile I made was the best. I could rejoice ironically how much of a regret I had after deleting it, but I'm not someone who goes with guilt and remorse. I always move on, though this time it felt more emotional, and I felt I had to carry an extra sack from where I'm walking away from, like this was a souvenir from the experience I went through.

My first profile picture was really elegant with a tinge of sultriness, but just a teeny tiny tinge of that. The background was a pale pink with a light tiffany green accessory cape, a few dark wooden-like ornaments on a sort of mantel. At least that was the impression of the profile picture, because truly it was just my bookshelf and my bedroom wall and a random piece of sheet I threw over to cover my sort of library collection.

I was wearing my bob with my bangs pinned up so I looked clean, tidy, well kept, classy, simple, no-nonsense. My make-up was a simple blush pink lipstick, some mascara, some compact powder to cover my undereye circles, brow penciled. The compact wasn't really covering the deeper shade of my undereye fully, combined with daylight it seemed too transparent, but that warrants my no-need to do any eyeshadow.

In the profile picture I'm in a half smile, but really it's just a matter of angle because I don't have to smile at all, I just seem like I'm smiling politely. My eyes looked downwards at the camera lens. I looked really classy.

Anyways the description and the photo was a boom because I received messages as soon as I put them online and they got approved.

There's this guy who offered a pay per meet but they gave off an off vibe so I deleted the message.

Over those kinds of inboxes the 1st guy that caught my eye did exactly this: he wanted to meet over coffee and offered a monthly allowance of 3000. That caught my eye because he meant business. I later caught on with him by texting outside of the website only to come to the conclusion I wasn't able to meet him because I won't be around until the middle of April. He told me to let him know when I'm back in the city.

Maybe he was the 1st person I reached out the furthest, I was interested and sent a message of a song recommendation from spotify to him but he didn't reply. It felt like dangling on a cliff. 1 week later I got another message from an overseas number offering a job. I knew the only way was through this person because I only used this new number of mine to communicate with him.

That gave a suspicious feeling, because this proved he might give any info of mine to anyone and the key thing was Without My Permission, I don't care if he did it out of what kind of intention. It was wrong and crossed my line, and as much as the offer of 3000 monthly seemed attractive to me (a 1st timer) I decided to delete their contact on my phone.

I had another place where I kept account of our chat details so if I ever (but highly unlikely) want to reconnect to this person whom I had researched online and found out he is a carpet businessman who looks I have seen via photographs of him, I decided it was done.

My principles.

The next person I dealt with just recently. He was such a friendly person who seemed genuinely into the game. And by game, I'm sure with his experience, he's a player. He's married but still looking, and from what we talked about on phone (he was the 1st to call me and the 1st guy whose voice I had heard since I started dating like this) he had a partner once for 2 years, she was a student but she ended her studies and things moved on but they kept being friends, this guy is someone who really manages his time with finesse, I must admit. He is a professional engineer, he says, and in his messenger account he put a name that I could easily research online and find a construction company director position linked to it. From there he is said to be a graduate from the University of Melbourne a long time ago. From there it tells me about how old he is now. His children (since he said he is married) if any, I figure could probably be older than I am.

That aside, he seemed genuinely interested to have a long term relationship. He seemed chemistry. He is very friendly and I could totally be friendly too, but I was guarded and cold compared to my usual self, especially when I was on that 1 phone call with him. He said he was driving, and he liked to hear about people's voices when he drives back home from dinner with his friends.

The next day I was greeted with a picture of a rose from him and a wish. The day after it was a quote and another wish for productivity as I mentioned my occupation too. This guy really knows how to converse. I admire his manners and conduct. In fact, he matches 89% of my description of "what I'm looking for". Save the married part.

He asked me if I'm allergic to married men. No, I'm not. I see them as humans all the same. I actually see him as a patient. It has only been 1 year and 6 months since I've enrolled in my professional academic training, and for that part of mindset, I was intrigued by myself to be honest.

Like I said, I was interested also because I was curious why he would had such kinds of affair after marrying a woman. I researched online for a consecutive 3 days regarding this matter. The reasons were humane enough.

I was reckless and threw this connection away. Because I was trying, too hard. I had a favourite guru on this sort of dating and she was successful. In her videos she said it was never too soon and about how we keep our standards up high so that people we date are on par and we don't waste our time. Be focused on the aim. There's nothing wrong with that. Anyone who wants something has to set their intention on it.

I wanted a book so I texted him about it and he read my message and never ever replied. I was filled with guilt I removed my simcard so that I never EVER reconnect with this person however the chemistry or friendliness existed for the first 2 days.

I recall a tarot reading because I'm into these stuffs. The reading said this person "will prepare you for your true connection". I couldn't agree more. I felt on one hand I disrespected him, on the other hand he taught me to be respectful of time and mannerisms. It was a sort of transaction with no money involved. I'm grateful I met this person, he really reminded me of that.

He also showed me how high my standards should be.

The day after I watched my guru online and she reminded to keep it as a date, not some job.

Of course. I just went off track for a time. See how it affected everything. Impressions are so important.

I started to date because I wanted to spend my time on guys who can afford and are good in management, well in conduct, respectable. I was grateful I met them. It felt rare. I wouldn't have met these people who are multimillionaires, entrepreneurs, CEOs, Directors, if I only mingled with peers. Plus my peers suck.

What an experience. I'm thankful for these gurus. Eventhough I will most probably NEVER meet them ever again. But I will remember their names, they have touched me without knowing (it's not that sentimental, just stating) and if I ever come across them in real life, I will send a wish for their general well-being. Like putting it out to the universe and the universe will take care of everything else.

I took out my profile and deactivated it. Nothing remains except if you're a hacker you may retrieve the deleted info. It was like a summer fling to me. Although everything IS like a fling to me. I take things less serious than I seem to be, and as much as I'm warm around, my heart isn't as so.

All in all, it was my 1st experience with sugar dating. Yep. Meeting successful men who keep their private life so private people assume they're gay? Interesting as heck.

I'd love to redo this again in the future after I level up. Ah, such are the beginnings of and afterthoughts for my dating choices. Imma try to write a book in the end as a memoir. Cheers!

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

My Eyes - Part 6

Pairing: Bucky; Steve x Fem/Reader

Word Count: 4,721

Story Description: Steve is a good man, America’s golden boy, a hero. He’s Captain America for christ’s sake! So it’s normal to want what he has… right? Bucky knows he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t even deserve the second chance at life he’s been given. But Bucky can never let him know. Steve can never find out that his friend is in love with his best girl.

Story takes place post “CA: CW” and all tension has been resolved.

Previously On...

                                           2 YEARS LATER

Despite Fury’s threats, Bucky tried to find Y/N. He exhausted all of his resources. When he couldn’t sleep, which was far too often, he would try to find her. After the first few months, he even tried calling her family. But either Fury or Y/N had already thought of that and must’ve changed all their contact info.

The rest of the team was so heartbroken by Y/N abandoning them that they couldn’t find the energy to go looking for her. They didn’t think she wanted to see them anyway. If what she wanted was to disappear, they decided to let her.

Bucky obviously didn’t see it the same way. Months turned into a year and then the year turned into another year. Eventually, Bucky ran out of leads.

Without the objective of finding Y/N and without Steve, Bucky had never felt so lost. He handled it the only way he knew how: fighting. He took on every mission that was offered. Bucky volunteered for the most dangerous assignments, offering to go unaccompanied and lowering the risk of anyone else getting hurt. Everyone knew what he was doing.

After a year of it, Sam intervened. He’d seen just about everything when it came to how soldiers dealt with the loss of a loved one. After countless yelling matches, Sam finally convinced Bucky to see a therapist. Even with the impossible hole Steve left in Bucky’s life, Sam tried his hardest to fill it. The dangerous missions didn’t stop, but at least Bucky could talk about why he was doing it with a professional.

It was a hot summer night in upstate New York. The sound of grasshoppers and other lively critters used to be comforting. But now they gave Bucky another excuse for being restless. He decided to go for a run in the surrounding forest. He didn’t return until 20 miles later, at 3 o’clock in the morning.  

Bucky was surprised to find Natasha standing in the grassy opening outside the compound. She was wearing a cotton robe and had her infamous smirk on her lips. It was obvious she had been expecting him.

“You put a tracker on me, Romanoff?” Bucky huffed, still trying to catch his breath from sprinting the last couple of miles.

“Your habits are too predictable for me to ever need one.” She replied.

Bucky wasn’t wearing a shirt, just baggy shorts and running shoes.  An iPod was strapped to his bicep. It used to be Steve’s. Bucky suspected that Y/N had been the one to fill it with music since it was organized in playlists based of their genre and/or era. He’d grown pathetically attached to it.

“Did you need something?” Bucky asked bluntly, not trying to be rude but knowing she didn’t just happen to be outside in the middle of the night.

“Fury left a little bit ago.” She said as if she hadn’t heard his question.

“That so?” Bucky hummed uninterested, putting his hands on his hips.

“This is the only area that doesn’t have audio surveillance and I can easily erase the video footage after.” Nat stated.

Bucky was now slightly more interested. “Romanoff, what the hell is going on? Are you planning on killing me and hiding the body?”

With that wicked side smirk, Nat stepped forward and held out a piece of paper to him.

Bucky took it without breaking her gaze. When he glanced down, there were coordinates written down in Natasha’s flawless handwriting.

“That’s where she is.” Nat clarified.

It took Bucky a couple seconds to put together what he was actually holding. And once he did, his eyes snapped up to Nat’s in utter disbelief.  “H-How…?”

“It’s been a process. I would’ve gotten it sooner, but Nick made one hell of a firewall for me to get through. It also changed its coding every month, so there were occasions when I wasn’t fast enough to break it in time. I kept having to start over.” She explained the process so modestly, like she hadn’t just hacked into a system that was more protected than The White House.

Bucky’s grip on the thin piece of paper turned vice-like. “Nat…I-I don’t understand…Why?”

The smirk on her lips finally disappeared. “Do you remember that 4th of July after you first moved here? We forced Steve to celebrate his birthday. But he would only agree if it was just the team, that way Y/N could be with him.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed, but he nodded.

“It’s always the moment I go to when I try to think about when we were altogether and just being…happy.” Nat sighed as she got a dazed look. “Tony, of course, managed to get all of those ridiculous fireworks to be set off at midnight. We were all watching them. But I just happened to glance at you. And right when I did, you were looking at Y/N. She was in Steve’s arms, staring up at the sky. We all were. That’s how I almost missed it. I must be getting rusty, because it took me almost a year to catch you. I must admit, you were good at hiding it… because I never caught it ever again. Everything else made sense after that: why you never talked to her and how, when you did, you were so unfriendly.”

Bucky’s hands were clutched into fists. Then he looked at the ground in shame. “Do you-…Nat, do you think he knew?” He barely had the courage to ask.

“I don’t think so.” She assured him.

Then Nat was closing the distance between them. Her hand lightly cupped his cheek, bringing his head up. “I’m sorry you lost both of them. I didn’t know how else to help without upsetting you. This was all I could think of.” She gestured to his flesh fist that was protecting the piece of paper.

“Fury’s not going to be happy with you.” Bucky warned.

She shrugged. “Let me handle Fury.”

Bucky stared down at the numbers, memorizing them without realizing it.

“Hey…” Nat softly grabbed his attention. “You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. I just thought you should have it.”

Bucky had been so focused on looking for Y/N that he never thought about what he would do when he finally found her.

---

                                        ONE YEAR LATER

It took him another year just to have the courage to finally jump in a car and go.

The coordinates put Y/N’s location in the middle of Montana. She sure hadn’t messed around when it came to seclusion. It took Bucky over a day just to cross the state lines. He knew he could’ve borrowed a jet, no questions asked. But he needed the drive to calm his nerves and help him think of what he would actually say.

Bucky’s hands started shaking over the steering wheel when his mind drifted to Steve. Guilt seeped into the forefront of his mind when he remembered a conversation they’d once had.

Steve and Bucky had been flying a jet back from a mission that just needed the two of them. It was an easy in and out. But that didn’t stop the relief they both had as they took the journey back home.

Steve’s cellphone was ringing with constant text message alerts. They must finally have service and he was receiving all of them at once now.

Steve asked for Bucky to grab it for him since he was flying the jet.

“They’re all from Y/N.” Bucky informed him without looking at them. “And one’s from Sam telling you a spoiler from the Game of Thrones episode the other night.” Bucky chuckled.

Steve smiled at that. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Game of Thrones? You better not. I haven’t started the damn thing yet.” Bucky groaned.

“No…” Steve smiled, but there was a new seriousness in his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you about Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked carefully.

“I know you two still haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other.” Steve prefaced. “But I just need to ask you something man to man.”

Bucky swore he was sweating. Had Steve figured everything out? He sounded so pleasant. But of course Steve would still be pleasant, even after finding out his best friend was in love with his girl.

“If anything were to ever happen to me… Can you promise me you’ll look after Y/N?” Steve glanced over at Bucky, jaw clenched.

Bucky felt a wave of relief. “Steve, that’s never going to happen.”

But Steve was expecting this situation. “We didn’t think we’d both become super soldiers. Neither of us ever expected to live past the new millennium, Buck. We don’t really know what’s going to happen.”

Bucky knew he had a point.

“I just need some peace of mind that she won’t be alone. I shoved this life onto her and I know it’s not fair that I can’t always promise a forever… at least not really. Just make sure you look after her. I know I’m asking a lot Bu-”

“Of course I will, Steve. You never even had to ask.” Bucky cut him off.

“When she moves on…” Steve looked down at the thought. “Please make sure he’s a good guy. She deserves that, especially after dealing with me.”

Bucky reached over and gripped Steve’s soldier. “Steve, I promise. Nothing would ever happen to her.” And his words rang true.

But Bucky drove to Y/N fully knowing he had broken his promise to his best friend. The optimistic or self-indulgent part of his brain (he couldn’t figure out which) told him that it wasn’t his fault Fury hid Y/N so well. But the devil on his shoulder told him that he hadn’t tried hard enough.

---

Y/N jumped awake as her tablet started ringing an alarm on her nightstand. Her heart raced as she realized it was alerting her of an intruder. She lived in a small cottage on a huge piece of land. The dirt road had multiple warnings about trespassing and it could not have been clearer that whoever lived on the property would alert authorities… or just shoot them.

Of all the time she’d lived there, nobody had ever tripped Y/N’s sensors. She lived so removed from society that no one even accidentally ventured far enough into her property to get an alarm. It just added more anxiety to Y/N as she whipped the covers off her body.

Porthos jumped awake and as he heard her shuffling to the vault in her closet. He growled when he spotted her pulling the rifle out.

“Come on, boy.” Y/N commanded as she raced down the stairs.

She opened the front door and saw headlights moving through the trees. Whoever was in the car, they were driving with too much of a purpose. They knew she was here and they were looking for her. There was no way someone, who was just lost, would get this far.

Y/N put the rifle to her dominant eye and placed the butt of it against her shoulder. She tried to calm her breathing. Porthos growled at the car, ready to protect his master as soon as it was necessary.

Y/N cursed to herself when she realized that if the person got out of the car, they would have the advantage of their headlights blinding her.

The car stopped, making Y/N’s heart beat even faster.

The headlights were right in her face, almost obscuring her from seeing even a silhouette.

“You’re trespassing on private property!” Y/N called out. “Legally, I can shoot you right now…so I advise you get back in your car and head back to the main road.” Her gun was aimed. Perhaps not well, but it would definitely do damage.

Porthos let out some terrifying snarls to add to her threat.

“When the hell did you learn how to shoot a gun?” The intruder asked.

Porthos suddenly whined and the ridges on his back relaxed. He knew that voice. The dog sniffed the air and then bolted towards the person.

“No, Porthos!” Y/N yelled, but kept her gun to her eye. However just as she yelled her command, she caught a shimmer on the person’s left arm. Even at night, without so much as a streetlight, she could tell they had a metal arm.

“Bucky?” Y/N whispered. Her gun lowered a little bit.

He was crouched down to his knee now and petting Porthos, who was attacking his face with kisses. The car’s headlights must have been on a timer once the engine was off, because they finally dimmed.

Y/N blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness once again.

“Doll, can you please put the gun down? At least for Porthos’ sake?”

Y/N was in disbelief as she reluctantly lowered her rifle.

“What-What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Her voice was so disconcerted that it sent a wave of guilt to Bucky’s gut.

“Nat helped.” Bucky admitted sheepishly.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Y/N gaze darkened.

Bucky was finally walking toward her now. She didn’t seem to like this at all and walked backwards toward the steps of the front porch. Her expression was anxious while still remaining disconcerted from his intrusion.  

Bucky misinterpreted it as fear. She was scared of him. He held up his hands in surrender, hoping it would ease the worry on her face.

Y/N was a few steps inside her house, the gun still hanging tightly at her side. “Bucky, please, just go.” She begged him. Her eyes held no welcome, somehow stopping him from entering the home. So his large frame stood right outside.

“Y/N,” His voice was so soft. “I just came to check on you.”

Her jaw clenched at that. “I don’t need to be checked on. I don’t want to be… that’s why I disappeared.” Her eyes darkened. “Thought everyone would have taken the hint.”

Bucky opened his mouth to defend himself.

“Mommy?” A tiny and tired voice said behind Y/N. Porthos ran around Bucky to get to the child and give him a greeting by licking his face. The boy was so small that he made the dog look like a giant wolf.

Y/N’s eyes shut in defeat for a moment. But then she quickly shoved the gun into Bucky’s grasp before the child could see. Bucky caught on and hid it against the wall on the outside of the house, away from the boy’s view.

Bucky looked beyond Y/N to see the little boy. His heart stopped when he saw a carbon copy of Steve Rogers. The child had the same sandy hair and baby blue eyes. Even the tired, yet inquisitive expression was Steve’s.

“Jimmy, you’re not supposed to be out of bed.” Y/N reprimanded, but her tone was still gentle.

The little boy ignored his mother’s scolding. “Who is that?”

Y/N lifted him up into her arms and angled her body so Bucky was no longer in his view. But he still tried to twist around in his mother’s hold to look. Y/N disappeared around the corner and up a flight of stairs.

Bucky was frozen in place, unable to move his body.

Y/N returned a few minutes later. He saw her hand tremble as it ran anxiously through her hair. She took in a deep breath, clearly going through too many feelings and contemplations in her head. Finally she eyed Bucky, who still stood outside the house.

“You can come in, Bucky.” She sighed.

He didn’t move. “Jimmy?” It was practically a whisper.

“It’s short for James.” She shrugged innocently.

“Yes, I know what it’s short for.” He responded softly. “Y/N…I thought-you said you were going to…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I know. You deserve an explanation, I know.” Y/N admitted. “Please, can you just come inside?”

This finally broke Bucky’s daze. He slowly stepped into the tiny house and closed the front door behind him.

“Fuck, I need a drink.” Y/N muttered to herself.

Next thing Bucky knew, the two of them were sitting at the dinner table with beers in both of their hands. Y/N’s eyes were distant as she mindlessly messed with the paper logo on the bottle. Bucky just watched her patiently, waiting for her to start talking when she was ready.

“I was going to do it.” She finally muttered. “I was at the appointment. They were about to do the procedure and I just panicked. I realized that he was the only thing I had left of Steve. I-I started crying. I completely freaked out the doctors as I sobbed that I couldn’t go through with it. And… that was it.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Bucky asked.

“My family knew.” Y/N defended, finally lifting her gaze up to look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” He corrected.

“Because I was mad at all of you, I was mad at your world. I thought if I bring a child into this life, I don’t want them to ever be a part of that.” Y/N didn’t mean to sound angry, but the words still hurt. “It was what that took Steve’s life.”

Bucky realized she was holding on by a thread. He felt even guiltier for his arrival. She tried to protect her and Steve’s child from danger and here Bucky came, bringing it right to her doorstep.  

“You named him James?” Bucky asked tenderly, trying to change the subject.

Y/N gave a shy smirk. “James Wilson Y/L/N.”

Bucky smiled at that. He knew Sam would probably try to hide the tears if he ever found out that Y/N named the boy after the two of them.

“I think it’s what he would’ve wanted.” Y/N wasn’t present in the room anymore. A few tears slid down her cheek. But she quickly wiped them away and sniveled. “Sorry… I haven’t talked about it in so long. Seeing you just reminds me of him so much.”

Bucky suddenly felt like there was no good he was doing here. He disrupted the sanctuary Y/N had created for not only her son, but also herself. The longer he stayed, the worst he was going to make their lives.

Suddenly he stood up. It was so abrupt that it made Y/N jump slightly.

“You’re right.” Bucky admitted. “I shouldn’t have come here.” He started walking toward the door.

Y/N rushed after him. “Bucky, wait!” He paused.

“The nearest motel is almost four hours away.” She warned him.

“It’s fine. I can sleep in my car.”

Y/N grabbed his shoulder. “It’s supposed to storm real bad. I’m not going to let you sleep in your car. You drove all the way here. God knows how long it took you. Buck…you can at least spend the night.”

Bucky read her expression for a moment. “I spent all this time trying to find you. But I never even considered the reasons for why you would want to hide in the first place.”

Y/N nodded. “I know you’re here because you feel you owe it to Steve.” It was the excuse she told herself that made her offer for him to stay. “Come on, you can sleep on the couch.” She added before he could say anything on the matter.

---

Y/N managed to sleep soundly. Maybe it was because she knew her and Jimmy were safe while Bucky was downstairs. But her sleep was interrupted when a crack of thunder practically shook the small house. Her eyes snapped open.

Jimmy would be sprinting into her room at any moment. He was terrified of thunderstorms, no matter how many times she assured him that they couldn’t hurt them. After the first fearsome thunder, he always came crawling into her bed like clockwork.

That’s why Y/N was confused when she hadn’t heard his little feet scurrying down the hallway to her bedroom. She must have fallen back asleep because the storm had been going on for some time now.

Y/N decided to go to Jimmy’s bedroom and check on him.

But his door was open and his bed was empty. Y/N would have panicked if she hadn’t heard voices from downstairs, in the kitchen.

She tiptoed down the steps, hoping to eavesdrop before they noticed her interruption.

“I used to be scared of thunderstorms…” Y/N heard Bucky say. In that moment, she realized she’d never seen him interact with a child.

“When you were a kid?” Jimmy asked curiously.

“Yeah, but even as an grown-up.” Bucky admitted lightly. But Y/N caught the dark truth behind his words.

“Usually I go into mommy’s room. She pretends to be scared too. So I feel like l protect her.”

Y/N smirked at her son’s cleverness.

“So why’d you come down here?” Bucky asked curiously.

Jimmy was quiet for a moment. “I wanted to spy on you.” He whispered it, like it would be less of a confession that way.

“Well it’s probably good that we let your mom sleep. She’s had a rough day.”

Y/N’s amusement disappeared at that.

“Why?” Jimmy asked with the innocence of a child who didn’t know the troubles of adulthood yet.

Y/N took this as her cue to interrupt and save Bucky from answering the tough question. She turned the corner to find that the two of them were sitting at the kitchen counter with mugs of tea.

Her heart hurt at the sight. For a moment, she saw Steve and a glimpse of what a happy life would have been with the three of them together…like a family.

She smiled sadly and Bucky caught it.

“What did I say about talking to strangers, Jimmy?”

“But he’s sleeping on our couch!” Jimmy pointed out and then giggled.

Bucky gave her an apologetic look.

“Do you want to sleep in my bed after you finish your tea, trouble monster?” Y/N asked, coming up behind her son and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Jimmy just nodded, remembering the scariness of the storm as another flash of lightning hit. He chugged the rest of his tea.

“Go get comfy. I’ll be upstairs in a second.” Y/N stated.

Rain stopped the kitchen from being completely quiet as Bucky and her were left alone. Y/N leaned her forearms against the counter top, across from where he sat.

Y/N was the first to speak. “I’m sorry that he woke you up.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/N. He’s a sweet kid.” Bucky gave a small smile. “I can’t get over how much he looks like him.”

Y/N sighed. “If I didn’t give birth to him, I wouldn’t believe he was mine.”

“He’s got more of you than you think.” Bucky assured her.

She scoffed at that.

“He came down here to investigate me. When he saw that I was awake, he offered to make me tea… said it helped him when his mom made it for him during storms.” Bucky looked her hard in the eye. “It reminded me of you, not Steve.”

Y/N gave him a thankful look.

“I decided to take over the tea making when he was trying to climb on top of the counters to reach everything.” Bucky added with a chuckle.

A thunder crash of thunder boomed.

“Mommy!” Jimmy whined from upstairs.

Y/N stopped leaning on the counter. “That’s my cue.” She was at the edge of the kitchen when she turned around. “I’m glad you got to talk to him, Bucky.”

---

Bucky had miraculously passed out after his little tea adventure. He was shocked that the noises in the kitchen weren’t the ting that woke him. Instead it was the feeling that someone was watching him. He blinked his eyes open to see Jimmy staring at him, barely a foot away from his face.

“Mommy said to wake you up for breakfast. She said not to touch you because it might scare you.” Jimmy whispered.

Bucky chuckled at that. He slowly sat up and rubbed his face. Then he glanced over to Jimmy, who was watching him curiously.

“I like your outfit, kid.” Bucky smirked.

Jimmy was wearing a dinosaur t-shirt, a pink tutu, and yellow rain boots. He seemed very pleased by the compliment.

“Mommy’s making chocolate chip pancakes.” He stated excitedly. But it was like he was telling himself for the first time because he became thrilled and sprinted out of the living room, into the kitchen.

Bucky slowly sauntered in to find Jimmy dancing around the kitchen to the music that was softly playing.

“Morning.” He greeted through his rough voice.

Y/N gave him a shy smile. “There’s a mug for you next to the coffee pot.”

“Can I help with anything?” He offered as he poured himself some.

But Y/N just shook her head.

Bucky sat at the table, taking in the home in the daylight. It was cozy and homey. But he didn’t expect anything else from Y/N.

Jimmy must have gotten tired of dancing, because he was now sitting across from Bucky. His blue eyes studied Bucky like he hadn’t met him last night.

“Are you my dad?” Jimmy asked out of nowhere.

Y/N was putting down a plate full of pancakes right when it happened.

Bucky watched as her entire body tensed.

“No, Jimmy.” She tried to it say casually.

Y/N gave Bucky a warning look, making sure he didn’t intervene.

“This is your Uncle Bucky.” Y/N added.

“Why is your arm metal?” Jimmy quickly moved onto another subject.

“Jimmy!” Y/N scolded. “That’s a very rude question to ask!” Bucky tried to give her a face that said it was all right. But she wasn’t having any of it.

Jimmy, suddenly looked very sad and disappointed in himself. He hadn’t realized it was rude until someone pointed it out. Now he felt bad. “I’m sorry for being rude.” He blubbered, eyes cast down.

“It’s okay, bud.” Bucky tried to reassure him. “I lost my arm in an accident awhile ago. This is just a prosthetic.”

“It’s really cool.” Jimmy commented honestly.

This made Bucky grin.

They ate breakfast with zero awkwardness. Jimmy kept telling story after story to his mom. Most of it was mindless and a lot of it didn’t make any sense. But Y/N paid close attention. Jimmy seemed to accept Bucky’s presence very easily, behaving how he usually did when it was just him and his mom.

After breakfast, Jimmy was playing in the living room without a care. Bucky offered to clean up since Y/N had made breakfast. He ignored her when she argued that she could do it herself.

“You haven’t told him anything about Steve?” Bucky asked as he washed the dishes and Y/N dried.

Her eyes turned down and she shook her head. “He understands that he doesn’t have a dad. He goes to friends’ houses for play dates and realizes that there’s another person there that he doesn’t have. But he doesn’t know anything about the Avengers or superheroes. We don’t have cable and he doesn’t go on the internet. He’s seen pictures and stuff at stores… but he just thinks they’re make believe.”

Bucky stopped washing dishes for a moment and gripped the edge of the sink. He looked over at her with a serious gape. “You can’t keep it a secret from him forever, Y/N. He deserves to know who his father is.”

“Not until he can keep it a secret.” Y/N defended. He gave her a disapproving look. “Bucky, if people found out Steve Rogers had a son… do you know how dangerous that would be?” She chucked the towel on the counter in frustration. “We couldn’t even bury him because of what he was! Steve kept me so hidden... Do you think he’d want to the world to know about his son?”

“Y/N, we’d never let anything happen to either of you. I’m going to keep you safe.” Bucky’s expression was so soft and affectionate. It surprised Y/N. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come out.

“Mommy? There’s a red robot in the yard.” Jimmy called out.

They looked at him in confusion.

Then they both realized who it was and snapped back to each other’s gaze.

“Goddammit, Stark.”  Bucky almost growled.

Y/N hurried over to grab Jimmy.

“Y/N, stay in the house.” Bucky ordered before going out the front door.

---

Part 7

Please message, reblog, whatever. Because I need constant validation HAHAHA. 

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The College Years - Freshman Year (Chapter 2) - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles​

Title: “The Morning After”

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, & Reader

Author’s Note: Some of these chapters may end up feeling kind of frivolous or tedious or like I’m explaining for the sake of explaining, but I swear, there is a lot of foreshadowing that happens in this series, and understanding y/n’s backstory is generally important. 

Summary: AU where Stiles’ “vision” happened and everyone ended up going to school near each other. Stiles and Scott live together and go to school at University of California at Berkeley. They think that they have escaped the supernatural drama that engulfs Beacon Hills on a daily basis, at least during the school year, until one night in the middle of January, they happen upon a girl fighting two grown men in a park.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

“Oh come on! Vampires, really? Does this mean I have to read Twilight now?.” Stiles complained.

Stiles Stilinski and his best friend, Scott McCall, sat on the side of Stiles’ bed, in their South Berkeley apartment, recounting the events of last night. You sat in the chair in the corner of Stiles’ bedroom, and had just told them that you were a witch and that they had all fought vampires last night. 

Stiles was interrupted from continuing his whining when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled his iPhone out of his basketball shorts and read the text message.

“Did you guys get this too? It’s a University alert.” Stiles said, holding his phone out to show you and Scott.

Scott walked into the living room to grab his phone, and you leaned over the arm of the chair and reached into a small pocket of your maroon backpack, where your iPhone was sticking out of an unzipped pocket. Stiles watched as your hair fell gently off of your shoulder and in front of your face as you leaned over. Scott walked back in and caught Stiles staring at you. Scott had seen this look on his best friend before.

“I got it.” Scott interrupted, breaking Stiles’ concentration.

“Me too…. ’Two students attacked by two unarmed men at 12:09AM last night in Magnolia Park. Police patrolling area. See email for more info.’” You read aloud the text message on your phone. “aaaand, my roommates have been texting and calling me all night. Great.” You said, as you closed your phone with the press of a button.

“I love how they send us this alert now, like, not really helpful nine hours later, is it?” Stiles said to Scott, in a sarcastic tone.

Scott placed his phone down on the bed, and turned his attention back towards you. “Can we get back to this?” Scott asked, gesturing back and forth towards you and himself. “Y/N, how do you know that they were vampires?”

“Yea, because I’ve gotta say, we have come across a whole hell of a lot of different supernatural creatures, and considering he’s a werewolf, I thought vampires would be the first one we would come across, but we never did so I just assumed that they were actually a myth… you know, like, what werewolf parents tell their werewolf kids to keep them in line.” Stiles rambled.

You stared at Stiles with a furrowed brow. “Like monsters under the bed?” You asked, sarcastically.

“Exactly! Regular people tell their kids that if they don’t sleep, monsters will get them, I just assumed that wolf kids were told about - ” Stiles continued until Scott cut him off.

“Guys! Can we focus?” Scott shouted. Stiles pretended to zip his mouth closed with his fingers, and then gestured to Scott to continue. “So, vampires… have you come across them before?”

“No… we don’t really have them in New York, I guess, but when you come across two guys sucking the blood out of some guys neck and they have fangs, I feel like it’s safe to assume that they are vampires.” You explained, gesticulating with your hands.

“How do you know it wasn’t a wendigo or something else?” Stiles asked.

“I’ve seen wendigo’s before, and that was not one of them.”

Scott looked at Stiles with concern. “I saw it too, it definitely wasn’t a wendigo…” Scott sighed. “We’ve never come across a vampire before either.” Scott told her.

“I gathered.. from… his speech…” You gestured to Stiles.

“Stiles.” He reminded you, while pointing at himself.

“Right, from Stiles’ speech.”

“You’re our first witch too.” Stiles added.

“Well, I mean, do druids count as witches?” Scott asked.

“Not really. Our powers are a bit different.” You explained, shaking your head.

“What are your powers, then?” Stiles asked, leaning forward to focus in on your voice.

You stumbled over the beginning of your sentence because you noticed the cute moles smattered across Stiles’ face. “Um, well, you saw the telekinesis and the force energy fields, but there is also some invisibility that I have not figured out how to master, and some stuff with potions, stuff like that..” You explained.

“What do you mean potions? Like… Harry Potter potions?” Scott asked, confused but slightly excited.

“Yo, dude, are you really going to glaze over the invisibility part? Because that is so dope.. and that was a force field, not mountain ash last night?” Stiles also inquired.

“It was a force field, but it works similarly to mountain ash, it’s just that I create it. As for the potions, that part is similar to the druids, if you know anything about them.” Scott nodded, indicating that they knew about druids. “Witches are connected to nature in the same way and how nature interacts with the supernatural, and what cures what and what’s poisonous, stuff like that.. There are no wands or love potions or anything like that. No spells. It’s less like the lore than you’d think.”

“Well that’s sort of disappointing.” Stiles blurted out, as you frowned at his comment. “But still really fucking cool, and obviously a really great addition to the pack.”

“The pack? What are…” Your phone vibrated. “Oh, shit…” You looked down at your screen lighting up with your roommates picture. “I’ve gotta go. My roommates definitely think I’ve been murdered or something since I never came home last night. I just, I have to go. I’m sorry.” You grabbed your navy blue Toms and began to slide them on your feet. You got up and placed your black leather jacket back over you and picked up your backpack to sling it over your shoulders.

“I can walk you home.” Scott offered, before Stiles stood and interrupted.

“No, no you can’t, Scott, because you have class. You have class, don’t you, Scott?” Stiles fidgeted, and pawed at his best friends shoulder.

“How could I forget… Stiles can walk you home.” Scott grinned up at Stiles, who gave him a subtle thumbs up.

Stiles slipped on a pair of Adidas and walked you out of his apartment building. He opened the front door and squinted as the warm January light beamed down on his face.

“You live in the Willowbrook apartments?” You asked Stiles, as you looked up to see where you were.

“Yea, where do you live?”

“The Trocadero, it’s like six blocks north of here, right by Magnolia Park. You really don’t have to walk me home, Stiles. It’s sunny, and that means the vampires probably won’t be out, right?” You asked, assuming that vampires couldn’t go out in the day like you had always heard and seen in movies.

“Just to be on the safe side…” Stiles gestured for you to lead the way back to your apartment.

“So, you and Scott are both werewolves?”

“No, no, I’m more like the brains behind this whole operation.” Stiles smirked.

“Whole operation? How many werewolves are there around here?” You asked.

“Well, Isaac, Ethan, Cora, and Scott are all werewolves, Malia is a were-coyote, Lydia is a banshee, Kira is a kitsune, I was a nogitsune for a minute there but I am fully recovered from that, so no worries… and that doesn’t even count the people we have back in Beacon Hills still.” Stiles listed off his allies as he walked with you down the sidewalk.

“Um…. that’s quite a group… and you’re like, what? The leader or something?”

“I’m just the guy with the plan.. the best plan…always.”  Stiles clarified.

“And what’s a Beacon Hills?” You asked.

“It’s our hometown, here in California, mine and Scott’s and everyone else’s.. You’re from New York, right?”

“Yea, I grew up by the beach, but my mom lives in Queens, and my dad lives in the Hamptons, and I usually stay with my mom when I’m home.” You revealed to him.

“You live in Queens? Where the Mets play… That is so cool. Do you like the Mets?” Stiles asked, hopeful.

“Nah, I’m a Yankees fans.”

“Oh… but the Mets..”

“Stiles, this is me.” You said as you pointed up to the building that you two had stopped in front of.

“Right.. well.. OH! I should get your phone number.” Stiles said quickly. “Uh, for the vampires..” You looked at him confused. “Not for the vampires.. In case the vampires come back, I mean. I should get your number so we can keep in touch with you in regards to the vampires… the vampires… mmf. wow.” He contorted his lips, trying to stop the word vomit from continuing. 

You took the phone out of Stiles outreached hand and plugged your information into the contacts. You then handed it back to him and fumbled with your keys in the front door lock.

“Thanks… for everything.” You said as you stood in the doorway. “I’ll see you around.”

“Great.. awesome, yea, I’ll see you. Yea.. bye.” Stiles waved awkwardly and walked backwards towards the sidewalk, grinning.

Chapter One <- -> Chapter Three

[fly-pow-bye]

DuckTales 2017 - “The Impossible Summit of Mt. Neverrest!”

Story by: Franscisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow, Noelle Stevenson, Matt Youngberg

Written by: Franscisco Angones, Noelle Stevenson

Directed by: Tom Owens, Matt Youngberg

Storyboard by: Mark Garcia, Dalton E. Grant Jr., Kalvin Lee, Calvin Suggs

I've seen the top of the mountain, and it is good.

The episode starts with some exposition on the titular Mount Neverrest Summit. Like the real life mountain it is partially named after, it’s the highest peak in the world. It has claimed many explorers' lives, but Scrooge McDuck is about to take it on alongside his nephews, Webby, and Launchpad. No Donald or Mrs. Beakley; seems like it's been a while since we've seen the latter.

Louie isn't too thrilled, because he wants to be back at the mansion waiting for Santa Claus, because it's Christmas. Scrooge reveals that he doesn’t want that jolly old elf inside his home because of "what he did". That’s pretty much it for the Christmas special portion of this episode. That's the end of the Christmas portion of the episode, unless just having snow counts.

The one very interesting change that 2017 did was give the nephews their own personalities, so it makes sense to have episodes focused on each one. While Dewey and Louie have had an episode or two, this is the first episode that really focuses on Huey. That Terra-Firmians episode was the closest before this, but that was more Webby than Huey.

While Scrooge McDuck wants to climb the summit to its highest point, Huey wants to draw a picture of it! Specifically, he wants to earn his Junior Woodchuck Cartography Badge by drawing a map of the uncharted mountain. He then shows off this badge that he has apparently yet to earn. It's not the only inconsistency, either, as Huey explains from his encyclopedic knowledge of the mountain.

Huey: The mountain summit has been shrouded in mystery! Nobody has ever seen the top!

Except for that guy who managed to photograph it for that exposition book, apparently. What he actually means is that nobody has ever been to the top to see what landmarks are on it. After “landing” in the usual Launchpad way, they see the majesty of the highest peak they can land on. Scrooge McDuck is glad to show the majesty of this peak, with no people at all!

Well, except for this tourist trap, which I guess was put up recently enough for him to be surprised to see. Scrooge does seem like the kind of duck who would only get his info from old books. Even Huey, who tried to bring modern technology with him only to be shut down by Scrooge, is taken aback either; he's been told that it's all uncharted territory. This town doesn't have much in the way of advertisement.

He even finds maps of the mountain, but it only shows a map of the resort along with some creative liberties. He points out to a very disinterested Louie that mountain goats are not native to this region, and even the decorative sun is not beyond his criticism. Sounds like a certain bowed individual. Not sure which one.

Huey: ...and why is the sun wearing sunglasses? Is he looking at a brighter sun?

He really likes to nitpick minor things throughout this episode; he'd do well writing for Fly Pow Bye. He takes his map so he can mark a real map in red marker. Scrooge shows up to tell him to ignore all of this tourism, as they're real explorers. Huey, with his knowledge, brings up one of the explorers: the late, great George Mallardy.

To make a long story short, George Mallardy set the record on the highest climb on this summit 75 years ago until his persumed death, and he became a legend around the resort for it. He's shown here carrying a quitter known as the Neverrest Ninny. Scrooge completely scoffs at this legend, only calling it a gimmick to sell t-shirts...and then right after saying that Mallardy's record will be beaten. He continues to talk as if this supposedly fictional event actually happened to the point where Huey asks him why, because, in his words:

Scrooge: Just because it’s a myth doesn’t mean it’s not true!

Considering the Terra-Firmians and all of those amazing things in Scrooge's garage, Scrooge has a point here. At least, when it comes to this series. There's obviously a much different reason.

What are the other ducks to do besides follow Scrooge around? They do find roles for them, in two different subplots. The first involves Webby wanting to go sledding. She buys a sled, goes down about two feet before stopping, and immediately crosses it off her list. Dewey tells her not to give up until she reaches the "maximum opportune moment", and he gives Webby the idea to sled off the top of Mount Neverrest.

Throughout the episode, Webby tries to get on her sled, only for Dewey to stop her. This even comes to Webby trying to, only for Dewey to kick the sled away so Webby can hand right on her face. It becomes a running gag, and like most good running gags, it has a payoff.

We also get a plot with Launchpad and "Ice Fever". Easily seeing Launchpad as someone who isn't too bright, a peddler gives Launchpad a spiel about Ice Fever, and that he should buy a bunch of expensive items in order to prevent it.

With Launchpad bringing half of the equipment, including his new very expensive anti-Ice Fever equipment he's not-really quick to clarify he bought with Scrooge's credit card, they’re all ready to set foot past the gate between the tourist trap and “certain death”. One would think this would be roped off or have some sort of protection against people dying, but that would hinder the plot.

Not everyone gets to join in. Louie immediately goes off to have hot cocoa the second he's told there's no treasure involved, something fitting with his character. As for Launchpad, a combination of a too high backpack, a too low passageway, and elastic straps causes him to be flung back into the summit resort so he can participate in wacky Ice Fever antics.

Huey gets to do his part, naming notable areas along the way, such as “Murder Bridge” and the “Chasm of Despair”. Something tells me we missed some more danger between commercial breaks.

Huey: And I’ll call this one Bunny Rock!

(The snow around said rock falls.)

Huey: Hmm...I’m still going to call it Bunny Rock.

One of the gags is that they keep coming across this rock even if they seemingly “gain a lot of altitude.” At least, it seems like a running gag at first. Good running gags tend to have a payoff, and this is no exception, but the payoff leads to the actual twist of the episode.

While Scrooge and the kids are climbing the mountain, Launchpad is bumbling around the sauna, thinking he's still on the summit. His goggles fog up, and he assumes that it’s the Ice Fever setting in. It's sort of a retread of the mole people joke from Terra-Firmians, right down to Launchpad confusing a regular person for a monster.

Back at the mountain, they stop at a huge cliff. It ends up with Scrooge climbing the mountain holding onto a rope carrying the rest of the kids in a slightly familiar way. Scrooge continues to say that they only need wits, so they have to drop most of their supplies. Huey questions his uncle's actions thanks to his knowledge of the book, hinting at what is to come between them in this episode.

Lost, they go into a cave, armed with only various forms of lighting, that Scrooge happened to know about...even though this mountain is uncharted. What seems to be the writers pointing out their own flaws in the plot is actually a hint of one of the other twists that will be revealed in a minute. It’s also hinted with that myth line, but, as said before, that line could apply to this whole show.

They see markings, presumably made by explorers that didn’t make it, showing them a bunch of explorers without their heads. They outright show the main twist of the episode here, but the correct way to interpret this image may be missed. Of course, that's not the only discovery in this cave.

The skeleton of Geroge Mallardy, complete with a “I didn’t survive Mount Neverrest“ shirt. Unless they were selling shirts back then, which would contradict something slightly later, the only way this could have happened is that someone managed to get up to this point, went up to a dead body, and put that shirt on him. As Scrooge McDuck, Webby uses her glowstick to reveal some writing right next to him.

Curse you, McDuck!

Scrooge tries his best to cover for himself by saying that he's a household name for cursing, but we get our first twist of the episode: he was still an adult making at least a million 75 years ago. Oh, and he happened to be the Neverrest Ninny. I'm sure one of those is more important.

We get to see more of Scrooge McDuck’s past, specifically, the time when he made his first million. To mark the occasion, he decided to hire George Mallardy to go on top of the mountain. This eventually leads to Mallardy doing the folklore causing climbing the rope. After Scrooge didn't want to get rid of his gear, and sizeable money belt, he cuts the rope, causing the Ninny to fall down. He survives, because he's Scrooge McDuck.

One may notice the similarity between this and the earlier scene a few paragraphs ago. This does not go unnoticed. Scrooge does become sort of the bad guy in this episode, though he has a believable motivation.

While pretty much everyone seems to have a role in this episode, the main conflict is between Huey and Scrooge. It builds up during most of the episode. Shouting at each other, probably not a good idea in a heavily snowy area high in the sky.

The main twist of the mountain is accidently discovered by Dewey and Webby, who are still trying to find the best spot to start their sledding. It explains all of the weird location things going on. Let's just say: Aperture Science may have some explaining to do. I already gave away one twist, I might as well keep the other slightly obscure.

The Scrooge and Huey plot. It's all build up for a pretty good action scene, where the villain is actually the odd environment that surrounds them. It's an interesting idea that hasn't been done in the reboot until this episode. It should be no surprise that the sledding subplot has a neat payoff as well. This is all cut up with that wacky "Ice Fever" plot with Louie and Launchpad, and I could at least say it ends well, too.

I don't want to spoil anything more, but it's not a spoiler to say that they all live, right? I mean, there's a Della Duck mystery to solve. I did see one part of the very final shot a mile away, though it's still a very satisfying image. Whether anyone will find out in-universe...may never be said.

How does it stack up?

Sometimes I feel like I'm coming across as saying that modern day cartoons need to have ongoing plots, especially when I'm talking about continuity. Like The House of Lucky Gander, this is an episode that's its own story, and it's a good one. and even some building of Scrooge's past.

DuckTales 2017 is going back on hiatus alongside every other cartoon for Generic Tree Lighting Day, so who knows what’s next. In fact, there’s no new episodes of DT 2017 in January, either. Will we ever find out what Santa Claus did?

← The Living Mummies of Toth-Ra! 🦆 The Spear of Selene! →

[unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot]

Happy Hands are Flappy Hands

Summary: Fitz doesn't care if other people mock his hand-flapping, but Jemma does.

WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: Ableism, Internalized Ableism, Ableist Language, Past Child Verbal Abuse, Mocking of Autistic People

This takes place in a College/University AU series: Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Read on AO3

“JEMMA!” Jemma looked up at the sound of someone yelling her name and recognized her boyfriend, Fitz, running across the mall toward the spot where she and Daisy sat on a picnic blanket underneath a shady tree. “JEMMA!” He skidded to a stop right in front of them and stood there, hands flapping excitedly in front of his chest. “Jemma! There’s baby gorillas! At the zoo! Remember how the female was pregnant when we went last fall?” Jemma nodded, but Fitz had already continued talking. “Well, she gave birth to twins! I just saw an alert about it from the zoo’s Twitter and came straight to tell you. Can we go see them? Please?”

“Of course we can,” Jemma said, and Fitz beamed at her, flapping his hands harder. He began info-dumping about baby gorillas, but Jemma’s attention had been drawn to two guys who had been tossing a frisbee back and forth. They had stopped and were staring at them. One nudged his buddy and pointed at Fitz before flapping his own hand and laughing.

Jemma felt a tight ball of anxiety begin to form in her stomach and a general sense of unease and dread settled over her. She started to fidget with her spinner ring as she glanced at Daisy. The murderous look on her friend’s face told her that she had seen them too.

“Hey, Fitz,” Daisy interrupted him. “Just wanted you to know, there are two jackasses mocking your flapping. Want me to go beat them up?”

“No,” Fitz told her. “They can do what they want. I don’t care.” He picked up his info-dump where he had left off and Jemma did her best to pay attention and ignore the two frisbee-playing douchebags. Still, she continued to feel tense and anxious, glancing around every so often to see if anyone else was staring at them.

Later, Jemma followed Fitz back to his dorm. “Want to watch Doctor Who ?” he asked as he unlocked the door.

They entered and Jemma went straight to his desk to grab the stress ball sitting on top of his physics textbook. “How do you not care?” she blurted out.

“What?”

“When others mock you, how do you not care about that?”

Fitz scratched his cheek as he thought about his answer. “Well, my mum taught me when I was a kid that people express themselves differently. Mum cries when she’s happy; I flap my hands. None of it’s bad; it’s just different. I don’t care that people mock me because I know that I’m not doing anything bad; I’m just doing something different, and that’s their problem, not mine.”

Jemma squeezed the stress ball. “It bothers me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” She dropped the ball back onto the desk and brought her hands up to squeeze around her neck and jaw. “I’m sorry, Fitz, I think I should go back to my dorm. I’m too worked up to watch anything right now.”

“Okay.” Fitz twisted his fingers together. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I think I just need to be alone to process.”

“Okay. Text me if that changes.”

“I will. Bye, Fitz.”

“Bye.”

Jemma went back to her dorm, but only stayed long enough to drop off her backpack and change into her gym clothes. She put headphones in and put her favorite song on repeat as she made her way to the gym, heading straight to the treadmill once she got there. Running always helped her clear her mind when she was struggling with something.

Why was she so upset about those two jerks mocking Fitz? Of course there was the obvious answer that she was upset because they were mocking Fitz, and that was definitely a huge part of it, but Jemma had a feeling it went deeper than that.

She was 15 minutes into her run when suddenly a memory appeared, as clear as if it had happened the previous day. She was about six or seven, standing in front of her aquarium, hands flapping excitedly as she watched the fish. Her mum entered, dropping off clean clothes for Jemma to put away. “Why do you do that?” Mum asked.

Jemma turned away from the fish, looking at her Mum in confusion.

“Move your hands like that,” Mum clarified, mimicking her flapping.

Jemma shrugged. “It feels nice.”

“Well, you shouldn’t do it. It makes you look stupid.” Mum mimicked her flapping again, making a silly face while doing so. Jemma laughed, but a strange feeling formed inside her, one she didn’t yet have the words to explain.

Jemma slowed the treadmill to a walk, now recognizing the feeling she’d felt as a child as shame. Unconsciously, her hands formed into fists and her thumbs rubbed her fingers as she squeezed. She glanced down at her hands and blinked in surprise as she suddenly realized why she stimmed like that. Oh, she thought. I started squeezing my hands as a replacement for flapping.

She got off the treadmill and went to the water fountain in almost a daze. After getting water, she left the gym, not really sure where she was going. She ended up outside of Fitz’s dorm, which didn’t really surprise her.

“Hi,” Fitz greeted her as he let her in. “Are you done processing?”

“My mum called me stupid,” she told him.

“Well, that wasn’t very kind of her,” he said.

Jemma sat down at his desk and he sat down on his bed. She told him about her memory, and her realization about why she squeezed her hands. “And it’s all because Mum told me I looked stupid once,” she finished. “How fucked up is that?”

“It’s not fucked up,” Fitz objected immediately. “Words-they have a way of cutting deep, and that stupid rhyme about sticks and stones and words never hurting is a huge fucking lie.” Fitz drummed his fingers on the bed. “I’ve told you that my dad wasn’t a good man,” he began, and Jemma nodded, “but what I left out was that he called me stupid too. And worthless. And idiot, and retarded. When mums and dads say those things, kids believe them.”

“You know it’s not true, right?” Jemma asked. “You’re not s-stupid or worthless, or anything else he said.”

“I know. Mum told me. And you know that flapping your hands doesn’t make you look stupid, either, right?”

Jemma bit her lip. “Yes?”

“Flapping your hands doesn’t make you look stupid,” Fitz repeated firmly. “It doesn’t.”

Jemma took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

“Would you like a hug?” Fitz asked. Jemma nodded and stood up. Fitz stood as well and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tight to give her the pressure she preferred. “I love you.” He felt Jemma tense in his arms. “You don’t have to say it back. Or feel it. Or anything. I just want you to know that I love you, and I’ll love you whether or not you flap your hands.”

Jemma rested her head on Fitz’s shoulder and took another deep breath. She felt safe being herself around Fitz. She knew he wouldn’t judge her, and she felt grateful that he told her that. “I love you too, Fitz,” she told him. She was pretty sure that she did. Figuring out feelings was confusing, but she definitely felt something for Fitz. She pulled away from the hug. “Still want to watch Doctor Who ?”

~*~*~*~

A few days later, Jemma and Fitz went to the zoo to see the baby gorillas. Fitz’s eyes were glued to the gorillas in the enclosure, but Jemma’s eyes were watching Fitz. She smiled as his hands flapped excitedly when the male gorilla stopped right in front of them and stared back at them through the glass.

“Jemma, look!” he whispered.

“He’s stunning.”

“That’s the babies’ dad. He’s the alpha.” Fitz continued talking, and Jemma smiled as she listened. Her hands fluttered by her side.