#uh...sure...i meant you elle...

[ellethespaceunicorn]

THESE TAGS ARE GOLDEN.

#BSE: Bearded Steve Energy.

[reiding-writing]

sickeningly sweet [ s.r ]

Spencer Reid had never had a valentine before. In attempt to make him feel better about it you engage in a casual conversation that leads to a potential date.

s1!spencer reid x gn!reader || fluff || 1.3k || masterlist!!

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 (i promise copy cat part 2 is coming soon 😭)

You can’t say that you’re surprised when you find out that Spencer Reid has never had a valentine before.

It sounds a little mean in your mind, but you know that the whole team is thinking the same thing.

“You’ve really never asked someone to be your valentine pretty boy? You’re missing out,” Morgan can’t help but chuckle at Spencer’s confession, taking a sip of his coffee with an exaggerated smirk on his face.

“I- did, once when I was nine,” Spencer’s tone carries that awkwardness you’ve come to associate him with along with a small trace of uncomfortableness at the topic of conversation. “She emptied her juice box over my head and then laughed at me,”

“And you haven’t asked anyone since? Come on Reid you can’t let one bad experience get you down,” Elle turns back and forth in her chair with her foot as a pivot.

“You say that like either of you have valentines,” You shake your head at the two with a laugh as you lean back against your chair.

“Oh i’ll have one by the end of the night,” Morgan shoots a wink in your direction and you making a mock gagging motion in response.

“You’re gross,” You roll your eyes at Morgan with a dramatic shake of your head as you push your chair backwards and stand up.

“I’m gonna make some coffee, you want some genius?” You raise an eyebrow towards Spencer, tone harbouring infinitely less sarcasm as you nod towards his empty coffee mug.

“Yeah uh, that would be great actually thank you,” Spencer hands over his mug to you with a smile that’s embarrassingly endearing and you’re glad the kitchenette is around the corner from the bullpen because you’re sure your affection for him is showing all over your face.

Spencer Reid had never had a valentine.

Oh how you wanted to change that.

To shower the boy in all of the love and affection he so justly deserved and yet never seemed to get. To dote on him for a day and not let him so much as lift a finger to do anything for himself.

Instead, you settled for making him a sickeningly sweet cup of coffee.

“So, when are you gonna ask then?” Spencer stopped craning his neck in your direction at Morgan’s question, an obliviously confused expression painting his face.

“Huh?”

“Oh come on Reid we all see the way you look at them don’t try and hide it now,” Morgan rolled his eyes exaggeratedly with a shake of his head, and Spencer flushes a bright red at the accusation.

“I’m not- I don’t-”

“You don’t have to deny it Reid, this is a safe space,” Elle’s tone carried all the teasing of an older sibling, and her expression hammered that message home tenfold.

“You’ve got thirteen hours to make a move pretty boy otherwise you gotta say goodbye to that sweet valentine of yours until next year,” Morgan tilted his head with a furrowed brow.

“There’s actually twelve hours and 42 minutes until midnight,” Spencer’s response was more of a defence than anything, and he awkwardly pushed a stray stand of hair behind his ear.

“That’s even worse, you gotta grow some balls and ask them soon man or it’s gonna be too late,”

Morgan was right. He did have to ‘grow some balls’ - whatever that meant - and actually ask you out before you ended up finding someone that was way more interesting and experienced in the dating world.

What if you already had? You never mentioned whether you had a valentine or not during the earlier conversation.

What if he actually plucked up the courage to ask you out and then you turned him down because you already had somebody else.

God that sounded like a nightmare.

“I am absolutely not going to ask them to be my valentine.”

“You’re not gonna ask who to be your valentine?” Your voice jolts him out of his defensiveness and straight into embarrassment, not at all aided by the way you lean over the back of his chair to place his coffee mug on his desk.

“I uh- No one- I’m not asking anyone-” His deflection is very half-assed, and the fact you don’t pick up on it makes Morgan want to just force your two heads together until you both kiss.

“Very understandable honestly,” You take a seat in your desk chair with a satisfied nod, crossing your legs and taking a sip from your coffee. “Valentine’s day is overrated in my opinion,”

“You- aren’t spending it with anyone?”There was a clear sense of bewilderment lacing Spencer’s tone, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion like he physically couldn’t fathom the fact that you didn’t have anyone to spend the day with.

You shake your head nonchalantly at his question, swivelling around in your chair until you’re facing your desk once more. “Nope, i’m gonna eat a tub of ice cream and wallow in my own self pity as I make fun of shitty rom-coms,”

You lean your head against the back of your chair to look at Spencer beside you, shrugging your shoulders. “You’re very welcome to join me if you have nothing else to do later, it’ll be fun,”

“No invite for me?” Morgan’s tone is very clearly teasing your favouritism towards Spencer, although even if you said that he could come he wouldn’t, this might be the one shot Spencer actually has to grow a pair.

“Oh please, knowing you we wouldn’t even make it through one movie before you get bored and decide you want to go to a bar or something,” You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Spencer actually watches the movies we play,”

“Right right, you and your ‘movie nights’ how could I forget?” Morgan shakes his head at you with that knowing smile and you have half the mind to threaten him with violence at the potential of him spilling your little secret, but you know that if you do that’ll be exposing enough for Spencer to catch on about how head over heels you are for him.

“So, what’d’ya say genius? Impromptu movie night? I have dark chocolate,” You throw the dark chocolate in there as a bonus like he wouldn’t say yes to you if your idea was to sit outside on the pavement behind the office in the rain.

“Sure- Sure yeah okay-“ Spencer’s answer is coupled with and encouraging nod from Morgan, and it makes Spencer’s face heat up more than he thinks is humanly possible.

“Great! I’ll even crack out the strawberries,” You clap you hands together and it’s a done deal.

“I’m gonna drop this off to Hotch i’ll be back in a sec,” You hold up the file in your hand as you push yourself away from your desk and stand up, speed walking across the bullpen towards Hotch’s office.

“A movie marathon with chocolate and strawberries, that sounds pretty romantic to me pretty boy,” Spencer shakes his head adamantly at Morgan’s continued attempts at trying to lay down the groundwork for him to take his relationship with you to the next step.

“They’re just being nice,”

Morgan and Elle both facepalm in unison.

[layaispunk]

storm and solace - chapter 4 | joel miller x OC

series masterlist | full story on ao3

chapter summary: Elle navigates the connection that is growing with her neighbors as her quiet life begins to shift. An unexpected night out and a late-night conversation leave her questioning what ... and who ... she really wants.

wc: 2.6k

chapter 4 warnings: legal marijuana use, themes of anxiety and insomnia, emotional intimacy, implied past trauma,

The smell of cupcakes clung to her cardigan, warm vanilla and sugar still lingering as she crossed the street. The tupperware in her hands was slightly too warm, and her nerves slightly too loud.

She wasn’t even sure why she was doing this. It wasn’t a big deal. Just cupcakes. Just neighbors.

Except it had been a week since movie night, and Elle hadn’t stopped thinking about it. About how Sarah made her laugh until her ribs hurt. About the way Joel had said “wouldn’t be a bother” like he actually meant it.

And about how, since then, he’d texted her twice. Once about a package. Once about Sarah. Both times, too casual to read into. Both times, way too easy to replay in her head at 1 in the morning.

She told herself this wasn’t anything. Just a friendly drop-off. She’d leave the cupcakes, maybe chat for a minute, and head back home. Nothing complicated.

She knocked once. Then again, softer.

For a second, she thought no one was home. But then the lock clicked, the door opened—and there he was. Joel. Tired eyes, Lakers t-shirt, and a little dust still clinging to his jeans like he’d just gotten off a shift and hadn’t even had time to kick off his boots.

He blinked at her like he hadn’t expected anyone, let alone her, standing there with pink-frosted cupcakes.“Hey,” he said, voice rough like gravel. “Everything alright?”

Elle smiled, and held up the container like it was some kind of offering. “Brought cupcakes. Vanilla, pink frosting. Thought Sarah might like some.” Joel glanced down at the container, then back up at her. Something unreadable flickered behind his eyes. “She’s at a friend’s. I just got home”

“Oh.” Her fingers tightened around the Tupperware. “I can come back later-”

“No,” he said quickly, then cleared his throat. “No, it’s fine. You can - uh, come in. If you want.”

Elle took a deep breath and stepped inside. The house smelled like fresh laundry. Her gaze drifted as she followed him in. Propped in the corner of the living room, half-hidden behind the couch, was a guitar. Worn. Well-loved. Like it had stories to tell.

She paused. “You play?” she asked, eyes still on it.

Joel glanced at it, then rubbed the back of his neck, one hand dragging up into his hair like he needed somewhere to put the sudden tension.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Sometimes.” His voice was rougher than usual. The back of his neck had flushed pink. Elle noticed, didn’t press. “Hm.”

Joel turned toward the kitchen. “You want coffee? Just made a fresh pot.” “Sure. If you’re already having one.”

“Always.”

They stood in the kitchen, leaning against opposite counters, sipping on their coffees. The silence between them was comfortable.  “You sleepin’ alright?” he asked.

Elle shrugged, staring into her mug. “It’s been okay.”

They were mid-sip, both leaning against the counter, when the front door opened without a knock.

“Joel!” Tommy’s voice rang out. “You home?”

Joel let out a sigh through his nose, just loud enough to make Elle giggle.

“kitchen,” he called back.

Tommy appeared a second later, sunglasses on his head and keys still in hand, clearly mid-errand. He paused when he saw Elle.

“Hey, stranger,” he said. “Didn’t know you were over.”

“Brought cupcakes,” she said, nodding toward the container on the counter. “Try them. Promise I didn’t poison you.” she smirked.

“Heaven sent you” Tommy said, already reaching for them.  He bit into one, then leaned back against the counter, still chewing when he added:

“So, this new diner just opened up on the other side of town. The guy who owns it’s a buddy of mine from high school” His eyes widened. “Holy shit, what’d hell you put in these? Anyway, real small place, but he does everything fresh. Thought we could go to the opening tonight, support ‘im. ”

Joel shook his head. “tonight? I gotta take Sarah to practice.”

Tommy clucked his tongue, turning to Elle.

“What about you, sweetheart?” Elle blinked. “Uh… yeah, we can go. I’ll come with you.”

Joel said nothing, but Elle felt his stillness beside her.

“Cool. I’ll pick you up at 8.”

--

Tommy showed up right on time. 8 on the dot. When Elle opened the door, he stood there for a second too long - silent, eyes moving slowly from her face to the soft bows on her shoulders, down to the way the pink fabric draped delicately over her frame, catching the porch light just enough to make her look like something out of a dream.

“Damn,” he said, voice low but honest. “You look beautiful.”

Elle blinked, caught off guard. “Thank you,” she said, smoothing her hand down the front of her top. “It’s nothing fancy.”

“It’s perfect,” he said, still not moving. “Seriously.”

She gave a small smile, stepping outside and locking the door behind her.

“You ready?”

“If you are,” Tommy replied, walking beside her toward the truck. “But I gotta warn you - I may have promised the owner I’d bring a date tonight. Didn’t wanna look lame.”

She laughed softly. “Is this a date?”

He opened the passenger door for her and gave a little shrug.

“Only if you want it to be.” She smiled and stayed silent. She liked him. He was attractive, funny, charming. A gentleman. But she didn’t see him in a romantic way. Joel consumed her thoughts.

And as they pulled out of the driveway, Tommy couldn’t help but glance over at her - how the breeze through the window caught a strand of her hair, how the soft pink brought out the amber in her eyes. It hit him all at once, how drawn in he was. How easy it was to like her. Maybe too easy.

The food had been incredible. Fluffy pancakes, perfect milkshakes with little cherries on top, homemade jam - the kind of comfort food that made conversation easy and laughter easier. Now, they sat in a cozy booth near the window, the plates cleared and coffee cups refilled. The sky outside was already dark, the soft hum of the diner giving everything a kind of sleepy glow. Tommy leaned back in his seat, one arm stretched along the back of the booth, his eyes still fixed on her like she was the prettiest thing there. Which, she was.

“Alright,” he said, smirking. “I officially owe you for tonight.”

Elle blinked. “Me? Why?”

“For being the best company I’ve had in years,” he said. “And for making this place look even better just by sitting in it.”

She shook her head, laughing into her coffee. “You’re funny.”

“I’m not lying.”

The check came a few minutes later, and Elle immediately reached for her wallet. “Tommy- don’t even,” she said, already digging into her bag.

“Not a chance,” Tommy replied, sliding his card into the little folder before she could blink. “I invited you. I’m paying.”

“Tommy-”

“Nope,” he grinned. “I’m more stubborn than you, Elle. You’ll lose this one.” She sighed, but with a smile on her face.

Later that night, Tommy took her home, and they stayed on the back porch, smoking a joint, the quiet settling around them softly, a low hum from the streetlights. Calm.

Elle leaned against the railing, cigarette between her fingers, the ember  glowing soft in the dark. Tommy stood a few feet away, smoking too, watching her more than anything else.

She looked beautiful like this. Soft. Lit by nothing but the porch light and the faint orange glow from what they held.

“I had a really good time tonight.”

Elle looked over, lips parted just slightly from the last exhale. “Me too.”

He smiled. A little crooked. A little nervous.

“You make everything feel a little easier. Even just sittin’ here like this. And, well, you’ve been on my mind more than I expected. Just thought you should know.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. So she didn’t.

Tommy stepped closer. He didn’t say anything. Just looked at her, really looked, like she was a painting he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

Then his hands came up. Slow, careful, framing her face like she was something fragile, like if he held her too tightly she might fall apart.

And he kissed her. Soft, but not hesitant. Like he meant it. Like he’d been holding it in since the second he met her. One hand still on her cheek, the other slipping behind her neck, anchoring her in place like he didn’t want her to float away.

But Elle didn’t move. She let him kiss her. Let his mouth find hers. But her body didn’t lean in, didn’t pull him closer. She just stood there.

When Tommy pulled back, his breathing was all over the place. His thumb brushed lightly against her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Was that okay?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

Elle swallowed, and avoided eye contact. She really liked him … as a friend. He was sweet, charming, funny, the perfect guy. She just didn’t feel like it was perfect for her. Her lips still tingled, and part of her wanted to say yes, to say it felt good - because it did. It had been months since anyone touched her like that, like they wanted her. And Tommy was kind. Safe. But there was only one person on her mind.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry,” she said, voice low. “I…”

“No,” he cut in quickly, holding up a hand. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have - ” He shook his head. “I got ahead of myself. I apologize.”

“You’re really sweet, Tommy. I would never want to lead you on like this.”

He nodded. “I understand, darlin’. No hard feelings, okay? I’ll forget about this. I’m gonna leave you to it now.”

Elle took a deep breath. “Thankyou for tonight, Tommy.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, their usual friendly goodbye. “Anytime. Goodnight.”

She stood there for a moment after he left, the porch now quiet again. By the time she was in bed, the kiss was still sitting heavy in her chest. It wasn’t bad, at all. He was a great kisser. But it wasn’t right, either.

She grabbed her phone, thumb hovering over one name longer than she meant to.

Then she typed:

Elle: Are you up?

A moment passed.

Joel: Yeah. You alright?

She stared at the screen for a few seconds, then typed again.

Elle: Tommy kissed me tonight.

Three dots. Then nothing. Then more dots.

Joel: You alright?

Elle: I guess. It just felt a little weird.

Another pause.

Joel: You don’t have to explain anything to me.

Elle: I know. I just… needed to get it off my chest and say it.

Her eyes stung for no reason at all.

Joel: You want to talk?

Elle: Not yet. I’m gonna try to sleep.

Joel: Alright. I’ll check up on ya tomorrow.

------

A few days passed.

Texting here and there.

Elle was curled up on her couch, a half-read book resting on her stomach and her phone in her hand. The house was dark, quiet. Just the hum of her fridge and the soft buzz of her phone lighting up her face.

Joel: You up?

She stared at the message for a second, then typed.

Elle: Yeah. Can’t sleep.

Joel: Yeah. Me neither.

A pause. She watched the typing bubble come and go.

Joel: Just checking. Making sure  u r alright.

That made her smile. Just a little.

Elle: Thankyou. You okay?

A minute passed.

Joel: I’m fine. Just one of those nights.

Joel: You still having trouble sleeping?

She hesitated.

Elle: Yeah. It’s been coming and going. Some nights are better.

Elle: Tonight’s not one of them.

Joel: Wish I could help.

Her fingers hovered over the screen for a while before she replied.

Elle: You already do. Texts like this help more than you think.

No reply came right away.

Then -

Joel: Let me know if you ever wanna talk. Or, I dunno. Sit outside for a bit. I’m usually out on the porch around this time anyway.

Elle stared at his text for a few seconds, chewing her bottom lip. Then her thumbs moved on instinct.

Elle: You can come over. If you want.

Elle: I was just about to go sit outside and smoke a little. Might be nicer with company.

She was nervous. They never hung out like that. It took exactly one minute for her porch light to flicker on.

She peeked through the window and there he was. That was fast.

Boots crunching quietly on the grass. Hands in his pockets. Sweater thrown over his t-shirt like he’d barely taken a second to think about it. He didn’t knock. Just stood at the steps, waiting for her to open the door.

Elle pushed it open, heart stupidly loud in her chest.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Joel gave a little nod. “Hey.”

“You sure I’m not interruptin’?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Joel huffed a quiet breath, almost a smile. “Guess I am.”

They sat in the glow of the porch light, the joint passing quietly between them. The night was still, the kind that made the world feel quiet, like it was just the two of them and the hum of the crickets. Joel leaned back in the chair, exhaling slow. “That helping at all?” Elle nodded, letting the smoke curl lazily from her mouth. “Yeah. My mind is quiet.”

He glanced over at her, his expression unreadable. “Is it easier when you’re around people?”

She hesitated. “Definitely.”

Joel turned the lighter in his hands, fidgeting.

“Even though you like bein’ alone?”

She gave a soft laugh, no humor in it. “That’s kind of the funny thing, isn’t it? I like being alone, but I think that’s just how I learned to cope. Doesn’t mean I feel alright when I’m by myself.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You sleep well with others?” He didn’t think. It just came out. Maybe it was the weed talking, but he meant that.

She blinked. “I… don’t know.”

“You ever fall asleep with someone beside you? Not just…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to hers. “I mean, really sleep.”

Elle wrapped her arms around her knees, looking out at the dark.

“I can’t remember the last time that happened.”

Joel swallowed, his voice lower now. “You can say no. And I ain’t tryin’ anything. But if it’d help… you could stay at mine whenever you want.”

Elle turned to look at him, and he held her gaze.

“you can sleep on the couch if you want. O- Or… my room.” He shook his head. “I’ll take the couch. Ofcourse”

Her throat tightened at the offer - because she could tell he meant it. Because no one had ever said something like that and meant it like this.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

“Yeah, Elle, I’m sure.”

She hesitated, chewing her lip, “not tonight though. I like being clear-headed. Especially when I’m not at home.”

Joel nodded immediately, no offense taken. “Makes sense. Wasn’t tryin’ to put you in a weird spot.”

“You didn’t,” she said quickly. “You didn’t at all. It actually.. it means a lot.”

Joel gave a small nod, eyes on the space between them. “Offer’s still there. Any night.” Elle smiled, tucking her knees in a little tighter to her chest. “I might take you up on it.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said. And meant it.

a/n: let me know if you want to be in the taglist!

taglist: @friskynotebook @brittmb115 @millersdoll

[prettywordsyouleft]

VVIP

Pairing: Day6 x female reader

Genre: fluff

Tropes: idol au, meet cute, emotional fluff, fan service, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mentioning loosely of the passing of a loved one

Word count: 3070

Author’s Note: So, I came up with this idea for my best friend @this-song-thats-only-for-you when she mentioned a rock band was a VVIP at her workplace the other day. She works at the airport, and Wonpil started to bug me about writing a cute little scenario of her being at work and her favourite band coming through the doors. What I wasn’t prepared for was how emotional this story would get for me to write, given Sem and I were meant to be going to see Day6 with Mum in concert this weekend. Most of you know, my Mum passed away in December, and we haven’t been able to afford going to see them live. This has turned into a little healing piece for us both. I hope you enjoy it too.

Anyway, Sem, this one’s for us. I can’t wait to watch a Day6 concert with you on Saturday xx

“Did you hear?” Bee started and you lifted your head from the buffet you were clearing out to look at her. “We have VVIPs coming in today.”

“We do?” you repeated, your mind running through the itinerary of potential guests for the private airport lounge you worked in. Collecting another empty tray from the influx of passengers who had demolished the buffet over the past two hours, you followed Bee into the kitchen. You were still clueless about who the special guests meant to be arriving were. “Who?”

“Some rock band,” she said with a shrug, and whilst you were curious, you didn’t think too much of it either and went back out to get more trays for the service team to clean. You were on the desk today, so you could be greeting whatever rockstars were meant to be coming through. The last thing you needed was to get pasta sauce on your uniform helping the kitchen staff clean up whilst the lounge was closed between arriving and departing flights.

“I don’t think you’ll be here for it though,” Bee tacked on when she came back out to assist you. Of course, she had to say something that didn’t affect your shift at all. You rolled your eyes at her as she grinned.

“Well, you better make sure your food is top-notch or else you know who will complain,” you teased, and Bee dropped a serving spoon with a clunk into another empty tray.

She shuddered dramatically. “Don’t manifest that! Yesterday, she complained to me about work I wasn’t even here for.”

“Of course. It’s your fault you weren’t here to do it,” you remarked, moving your tongue into your cheek naughtily. It was nice to be able to vent to your workmate who got your assistant manager’s nitpicking woes.

Rockstars all forgotten about, you helped with refreshing the buffet and drinks before the lounge opened again.

You only had an hour left to your shift, and since no one was coming through the doors, you were texting your best friend Elle about afternoon plans once you got home. Hearing the lounge door ding before opening, you quickly deposited your phone onto a hidden shelf and pasted on a smile to greet the new arrivals before lifting your gaze up.

“Hello, welcome to the lounge, how can I assist….”

Blinking furiously, you then froze. Surely, you were dreaming, right?

“Hello?” a man, presumably a manager, said in accented English, holding out a business card and boarding passes.

With names you recognised. Holy shit.

“Uh. Hello,” you managed, trying not to break out into a sweat. “Hi. Um. Welcome. Do you have passes into the lounge today?”

Were they the rock band Bee had mentioned?

“No, but we can purchase entrance, correct?”

“Yes, you can.”

“Excellent. It will be quiet in here.”

You almost laughed hysterically, your hands trembling as you took the held-out information and checked it over. There were three others you didn’t know, but the names Yoon Dowoon, Park Sungjin, Kang Younghyun, and Kim Wonpil you did.

Intimately.

Gods. Your cheeks had to be scarlet by now. It was by some miracle you were able process the payment and not combust into flames on the spot.

“Shouldn’t you be in Auckland, not here?” you wondered, and then froze again momentarily when you realised you said it out loud.

“I knew it!” Younghyun, more known to you as Young K, exclaimed, laughing with satisfaction and leaning passed another member of their group. “You know who we are, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Are you a fan of our band Day6?” Sungjin asked, and you had to commit this all to memory. Elle was going to absolutely flip when you told her.

“Of course, she is.”

“Let her answer,” Dowoon scolded the older members, and you nodded.

“Are you coming to our concert?” Wonpil asked with earnest, and you sighed. He picked up on it. “No?”

“Uh, my best friend and I really wanted to go. With her mother. She was a bigger fan than us somehow.” You stopped, letting out a watery laugh thinking about the rocky last few months your best friend and adopted family had been through. Of how you had all planned to go up to Auckland tomorrow for the concert on Saturday. It was strange how life could tip you all upside down and change everything into a different perspective. How could you tell the waiting members of your favourite band that you couldn’t attend their concert without bursting into tears? You settled on saying, “But uh, no.”

“No?” Younghyun probed, frowning. You swallowed down the emotion in your throat and he smiled kindly. “That’s too bad. At least we got to meet you now.”

Their manager, who had walked off, only to realise they hadn’t followed, came back and started talking in fast-paced Korean to the group, Wonpil shooting you a polite smile whilst listening. You were standing there, somewhat smiling back at a man you had watched for years online, had sung heartily along with when listening to their songs, and had his beautiful face as your lockscreen on your phone right now.

What even was this life?

“Yeah, yeah,” Brian replied in English, shooting you an easy smile and translating what had been said for your benefit. “We were hungry, so of course we need to utilise our time before our next flight to eat first. It’s nice meeting you… Y/N.”

You startled at him knowing your name until you realised he had paused to read your name tag. You nodded dizzily. “Please enjoy your meal.”

And as soon as you watched them go over to a table and dump their belongings down at it and then head over to the food, you had already broken work protocol by not asking first and pushed call on your phone. “Elle,” you squeaked out, trying not to hyperventilate.

“What’s wrong?”

“How fast do you think you could drive across town? No, don’t drive. You won’t be able to when I tell you what I have to say right now. Actually, you need to get in the car and come here right now! I’ll pay for parking.”

“Are you alright?!”

“No? Yes? I don’t know! Elle, you’ll never guess who’s—” Whimpering when you realised who was standing in front of you again, you blinked several times at Wonpil.

“I uh, just wanted to tell you that your friend should drive very safely. We have three hours here.”

Oh god, how had he heard you from over here? Unless he was watching you.

“Wh-what?”

“Y/N… did I just hear. No, I can’t be. I’m going insane, right?”

Wonpil smiled brightly, somehow hearing Elle’s voice. “Can I?”

“You want my phone?”

“Please.”

“Uh, sure,” you said shakily, handing the device over to your biggest celebrity crush, and watched dumbfoundedly as he spoke to your best friend on the phone.

“Hello, are you Y/N’s best friend who loves our group Day6? Please drive safely. We don’t want you hurt in any way.”

“She can’t get through,” you murmured, thinking of security reasons, and dashed away from the desk and into your boss’ office. Thankfully, the more level-headed one.

“Y/N?”

“I have a huge favour to ask. Can we get a visitor pass?”

“What? What’s going on?”

You explained loosely the absolute miracle that was unfolding, unsure how you were even still upright. Your boss was already signing the visitor pass before you were finished. Smiling warmly at you, your boss patted your arm. “Breathe, Y/N. Go back out and finish your shift, if you can. Can you?”

You nodded, clutching the pass to your chest. “I can.”

“Good. You know, it’s crazy that we have more than one rock band turn up today. The Sex Pistols are arriving on a flight later.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Go enjoy your unexpected arrivals first,” she said with a laugh at your evident little interest in the true VVIPs of the day.

You walked back out more confidently than you were before and realised you had left Wonpil with your phone. He’d obviously hung up the call and was cradling your device against himself, his cheeks a little pink as he handed it over. “Thank you.”

“Elle said she would drive safely.”

“Good. I got a pass for her to get in,” you told him, strangely feeling braver now. “Thank you for being so kind.”

“You can’t come to our concert for a reason, we can tell.”

You nodded, somewhat dejectedly.

“So, we can do this,” he added, and you raised your eyes to meet his. He smiled warmly. “We want to.”

“I…” Trailing off, you blinked back another wave of emotion. “Thank you,” you whispered and looked down at your phone. You accidentally hit a button and your lock screen brightened, the face of the man before you clearly there.

“Uh, nice lock screen,” he mumbled and then hurried back to the table where the others were eating.

You don’t know how you didn’t just melt away right then from mortification, realising his pink cheeks were from seeing that when he hung up before.

He must think I’m insane.

Somehow, you were able to return to being professional and served several more customers before you received a text from Elle saying she was just getting a park in the express stay area. Looking at the time, you only had ten minutes left of your shift, so you continued with your handover tasks to a colleague and then moved into the kitchen to make sure there were no remaining jobs you needed to do before clocking out.

Bee sidled up to you when you were collecting your belongings. “So. What’s going on that made you run to Lynda before?”

“Not much.”

“Nothing to do with the cute guys over there that keep looking at you?” She gestured to the small window that showed out into the lounge.

You flushed. “They’re a Korean rock band.”

“You’re joking?”

“No. And they’re my favourite band. Lynda gave a pass for my friend to get in. I don’t even know how it happened. One minute I was serving them. And then I was just ringing Elle to let her know and they overheard me and told me how long they’re here for.”

“So, they’re cool with this?”

“They seem to be since they know we can’t go to their concert on Saturday.”

“Ohhh,” your workmate breathed, nodding once. “That concert. Hey, this is pretty cool. Reckon I could get their autograph?”

“You don’t even know who they are,” you replied with a laugh and Bee grinned.

“No, but they’re famous, right? Who knows, I could come to like them.”

You side-eyed your friend knowingly and then shrugged. “Probably. They’re decent people.”

“It seems it. Oh, your phone is buzzing. Better answer it.”

Waving off Bee, you collected your bag and then answered the phone to a breathless Elle. “I’m here. Now what do I do?”

You agreed for Elle to wait at a place you both knew of in the terminal and then headed out to meet her and bring her through security. She was vibrating with excited nerves when you found her, her hands rushing out to grip you.

“How have you not fainted?!”

“I almost did.”

“Wonpil spoke to me on the phone, Y/N. Kim Wonpil. You have seen your idol in person!”

“I know. And Dowoon, and Sungjin and Young K too.”

“Lord, what are we doing here? What did you say for this to occur?”

Thinking back, you shook your head. “I think it was what I didn’t say. They had no idea I was ringing you and then it just snowballed. I just had to tell you. I wasn’t going to invade their private space, just meet up with you here so we could have a late lunch and be in the same building as Day6. That was all!”

Elle laughed a little forcefully. “And now I’m going to meet them?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. I don’t know. This is insane.”

“It’s so like them to be kind like this too.”

Elle nodded. “Definitely. Okay. Let’s do this before I overthink it.”

Going through security, you realised your best friend hadn’t been on this side of the airport before as she swung her head this way and that, looking at all the shops and sights that were foreign to her. Leading her through to the lounge you worked in, you greeted Donna at the desk and held up the pass for Elle, your other hand gripping your best friend nervously.

You didn’t quite understand how seeing Day6 had rendered you like this. On some level, it was normal discourse between a fan and an idol, but you felt juvenile for some reason. You could tell Elle was reaching the edge of her tether, the girl who didn’t like to cry in public blinking furiously now.

“Oh hey, you’re back,” Younghyun greeted brightly, picking up a napkin and wiping his mouth and hands before getting up. “And you’re the best friend, right?”

Elle did what you never expected. She burst into tears. Which was the worst thing she could have done because you could feel your own emotions rising. Without hesitation, Younghyun pulled her into a hug, trying to laugh it off. You knew why she was crying though. On some level, it had to do with them being a group you’d both followed from debut, but seeing the four members who had no idea that they had been such a solace and joy to her mother during her last months alive was too much. Somehow, she managed to say so, and with Younghyun translating to the others, as well as their general understanding of English, the smiles faded, and you watched as the four members, and even their crew, showed genuine sympathy and awe.

“We just thought we were doing a nice thing,” Sungjin said with a short laugh, rubbing the back of his head with one hand whilst he held Elle’s hand that he had reached out for when she was explaining the loss.

Dowoon had moved to give you a hug, which was comforting, more than you had expected. It was a barrier that only fan and idol could cross without it being too much, and you were thankful that all the years loving on such genuine boys had paid off. They were decent humans, and you knew you would continue to support them forever.

Wonpil cleared his throat in a quiet moment, his voice sounding a little hoarse. You realised he had cried whilst you had been in Dowoon’s embrace. “What was your Mum’s favourite song?”

You and Elle both said Deep in Love at the same time, and it went unspoken, as all four members shared a look, that they would do something. Still, as you spent the rest of the time they gave you taking pics, talking, and getting things signed, you didn’t realise how kind their final gift would be, even after they had hugged you each and truly made your lives brighter.

“Well,” Elle said, hitting play on the video you had up on the TV, the sounds of a familiar band starting up. “Good luck on stage tonight, Day6.”

“Watching this concert is a good consolation,” you mentioned, reaching for some M&Ms and nestling back into the sofa.

Elle nodded. “Would have been epic in person tonight. But how many Kiwi Myday can say they have a whole camera roll of Day6 on it?”

“And a video of them singing acapella just for them.”

“A true blessing. I still can’t believe it.” Elle grinned. “Did you know Younghyun said I was even prettier because of my tears when I realised how terrible the photos would look after I sobbed so much?”

“You’ve told me,” you reminded her kindly with a smile. “But you do look pretty in the photos.”

“Not as good as you and Wonpil in your new lockscreen photo. He was so cute when he hugged you like that.”

You tapped the screen of your phone to watch it light up, having no idea Bee had snapped you such a candid moment. Of course, the woman had come over to get a signature that they had been all too happy to give to her. What you hadn’t realised was her taking a photo of Wonpil hugging you. She didn’t hear what he had said to you when he had though, thank goodness.

“Thank you for loving us. I won’t forget this moment.”

It made you smile brighter as you got settled into watching the concert from a few years back. You were over an hour and a half in when Elle sat up suddenly, her phone in her hand.

“Holy shit. I had a friend at the concert tonight and I didn’t know. She’s just sent me something.”

“What?”

Leaning over, Elle hit play on a video to show you both. It was the large screen in Spark Arena, focusing on Younghyun, who looked over and Sungjin and then smiled.

Sungjin cleared his throat, pulling the mic closer to himself. “So we have a song that we haven’t played at any other concert on this tour.”

“Oh my God,” Elle breathed, blindly reaching out to grip your forearm.

“That’s right,” Younghyun added, grinning out at the crowd. “We met some fans at the airport the other day who couldn’t make it to the concert. They really touched us with their story why, and tonight we want them to know we’re singing a song for a special lady we wished we had gotten to meet.”

Tears started to blur the video in front of you, and Elle was openly sobbing.

Wonpil leaned into his microphone. “This song is Deep in Love, and we hope you can hear us from here, Kay.”

It was hard on the first watch through to even hear the song with how hard you were both crying. But after a few replays, you were able to enjoy the song and tribute to your family member.

Elle held the phone to her chest. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“And to think they weren’t even the real VVIPs to come in that day to the lounge.”

Elle frowned. “Was there meant to be one?”

“Yeah. Another rock group. But Day6 were definitely the band I’d rather have a meet-cute with.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[DAY6 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

[missarchive]

Heyyy, I’m not sure if you’re taking requests atm but I LOVED your ‘bed chem’ book I feel like there are NOT enough elle x fem!readers out there and especially not enough dom reader ones so I loved it sm! I was wondering if you could do another one similarly maybe a soft top fem!reader and elle possibly set just after elle leaves the bau; reader says she still loves her and would never blame her for it and confessions ensue etc… the girls get their freaks onnn!! Our girl elle deserved all the love in the world I miss her! Ily thank you 🙏 (ps if u hate this idea honestly any top reader bottom elle fics would be so splendidly superb😭)

cw; 18+ MDNI!! slight angst, fluff, top fem!reader, bottom!elle, wingwoman emily makes an appearance, fingering, oral, resolved feelings, open ending

an; I wasn’t sure if you wanted a pre-established relationship or not so I just kinda ran with your idea a bit! I hope you enjoy reading <3 thank you for the request, I miss Elle so bad you guys.

wc; 2k

As the morning progressed, you couldn’t help but notice the stares you got from the surrounding agents. You chose to ignore them, knowing it would only lead to questioning about Elle. Besides, you knew you wouldn’t have the answers they were so desperately searching for, anyway.

Finally having had enough of the forlorn looks sent your way, you pushed your chair back with a shrill screech and excused yourself from your desk, dumping the files down on the nearest table and heading straight for the doors.

You make it no more than twenty metres before Emily is pulling you aside and into the empty breakroom. You tug your arm from her grip harshly and huff a little, “can I help you?” you raise an eyebrow.

She smirks and brushes you off, “how about you help yourself, first. I haven’t seen you stewing like this since… well, ever,” she laughs, straightening her lapels and leaning against the counter.

“And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean,” you shoot her a quick glare, having a feeling you already know where this conversation is headed.

Emily sighs, bowing her head briefly before her eyes soften, looking back up at you, “we’re only trying to help… none of us like seeing you this way.”

A scoff leaves your lips before you can stop it, the tiled pattern on the floor suddenly seeming far more interesting. You avert your eyes from her all-knowing gaze, picking at your nail beds, “I just wish she would’ve told me… that’s all,” you sigh, “you know, maybe… maybe I could’ve helped. I-I could’ve done something.”

Your bottom lip quivers, betraying the facade you’d worked so hard to keep up. “I thought maybe I-,” you shake your head, cutting yourself off as you raise a hand to frustratedly wipe at the tears pricking your eyes, “I thought I meant more to her than that…” you whisper, so quietly you're unsure if Emily even heard you.

“Don’t do that,” she frowns, her voice soft, kind. More than you deserve right now, you’re sure, “you know what you meant to her, what you mean to her…” she looks away briefly, choosing her next words carefully, “have you tried calling her?”

You let out a sad laugh, “and say what? ‘I miss you, I love you?’”

Emily looks at you as if you’d grown two heads, “uh, yeah. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to say, am I missing something here?”

“I wish it was that simple, Em,” you straighten your bag strap against your shoulder, “I’m not exactly sure this is the best time for me to spill my guts to her… she’s been through a lot.”

“That’s exactly why you should ‘spill your guts’, she needs to know that someone out there is in her corner,” Emily takes a cautious step forward, as if afraid to poke the bear. Once she’s sure you won't react, she places a hand on your shoulder and rubs her thumb in soothing circles.

You frown slightly, “but- she knows we support her, right?”

“It’s different coming from someone you love,” Emily smiles, patting your shoulder before moving past you and out the door, pausing under the frame, “I really think you should call her.”

You stand there, frozen. Emily’s words replay in your mind. “Someone you love.” She couldn’t have meant you… could she? Was she implying that Elle loved you? Your feet have never carried you to your car so fast, slamming the door behind you before rummaging around your purse for your cell.

Dialling Elle’s number, you wait in a painful silence. The call goes straight to voicemail, unusual. She’s usually very attentive to her phone. She must’ve been in a call already, you think to yourself. You’ll just call her again in a couple of minutes.

Voicemail, again. By the fourth attempt at calling her, you know something’s up. She would’ve answered by now, would’ve sent you a text detailing why she couldn’t pick up. She would’ve called you back, and rushed an apology.

You can't wait any longer, you follow the familiar route to her apartment. A drive you’d taken almost every night since you’d met her. Whether it be dropping her home from work, or getting drunk on the cheapest bottle of wine you could find, you were always in proximity to Elle.

The distance was unfamiliar, the silence was even worse.

Pulling up to her complex, you rush up the stairs. Your hand reaches out in hesitation, would she want to see you? It’s quickly overshadowed by your own need to see her.

You bang on her door rapidly. “Elle, I know you’re home,” you sigh, resting a closed fist against the door.

Waiting no more than a few moments at her front door step, the door swings open. There she was. A permanent frown etched into her once carefree face. Dark circles you know aren’t recent either. She moves aside, gesturing for you to come inside.

Once you set your coat down and take a seat next to her on the edge of her couch, it seems as if your own frown now mirrors hers. “What happened?”

She looks up at you, lips parted ever-so-slightly, chapped from dehydration. “I couldn't be there anymore… I’m losing so much of myself, I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch that happen to everyone else as well.”

You shake your head, pulling her hand into your lap, “I meant what happened with us. Why didn’t you tell me, Elle?”

Her eyes dart away from yours, hands growing clammy. “I knew you’d be upset.”

“Upset?” you chase her gaze, “Elle I’m only upset for you, not because of you.”

The silence seems to grow between you, each person scared to disrupt the quiet.

You shuffle slightly closer to her on the couch, reaching out to brush a stray curl away from her face. “I love you, Elle. You’ll always have me, even when you have nothing.”

Her expression softens, her eyes darting between your own as if trying to read you, unsure of what she heard, “you love me?” she repeats back to you, her throat going dry.

You nod, exhaling into a smile, “I love you, Elle. And I’d never blame you for what you did,” the curve of her cheek rests in your palm, a perfect fit, “I’m on your side. I understand you.”

Her bottom lip pulls in, quivering for just a moment while she looks over your face.

Then, she pulls you into a gentle kiss. Her lips soft against yours, her breathing coming out in quick heaves. You push yourself closer to her, wanting to be as close as possible. As soon as you sense her leg brush up against yours, you waste no time. Your hands go to her knees, slowly sliding up the soft material of her leggings and under the hem of her tank top.

Your fingertips trace over the curves of her ribs, gently pressing against her taut skin as she pushes herself into your touch. Your hands work their way down her body, resting on the swell of her hips. The fabric of her underwear tickles the pads of your fingers and you can't help but let out a small breath when you feel the slickness of her arousal already. You feel a blush cover your cheeks at the thought of her wet for you. Your eyes widen and you swallow hard, doing your best to hold in the groan that’s threatening to escape.

Moving your hand further, you push your fingers between her legs, slowly spreading her open with your thumb.

“Y/n,” she breathes your name. It feels like a prayer and your ego soars. “I need to feel you,” her voice begging.

You shift yourself so you’re hovering over Elle, your knees at either side of her hips as you pull her panties off of her and slide them into the pocket of your pants. You smirk a little to yourself, she’s not getting them back until you’re both fully sated. Your hands move up her body again and you pull her top over her head.

Elle reaches for your shirt but you pull back from her grasp as you pull it off of your own body.

“I want to worship your body,” you whisper as you bend your head to her breasts, pulling her nipple into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it slowly. Her breath comes out in a soft gasp and you can feel her hands fisting your hair. She pulls at the strands slightly, but she’s not pushing or pulling you away from her. You let her nipple pop out of your mouth as you trail kisses over her chest and across her shoulders.

“You taste so good,” you breathe the words against her lips. You kiss her jaw, her neck, her chest. Your lips move slowly over her, paying attention to all the spots that make her squirm beneath you.

You let your hand glide down over her torso and spread her legs wider, letting your fingers trail from her knee up to her inner things. You rub your hands up and down, feeling the heat coming from between her legs. Pushing yourself off her reluctantly, you position your body further down, allowing your head to rest between her thighs. You slowly open her up before dipping your head down to her core. You slowly lick your way up her center, flicking your tongue over her clit before pressing it flat against her and pushing the tip into her wet cunt.

She lets out a soft moan as she arches her back. You look up at her, watching as her chest rises and falls with each laboured breath.

“Fuck,” she breathes. Her hands fist the material of the couch beneath her. “Y/n, I’m close.” Her words come out in a gasp.

You pick up your pace, alternating between flicking and sucking on her clit. She gasps, “oh god, y/n,” and you can tell she’s close. You increase your pace as you add two fingers to her opening, pumping in and out of her slowly. She whimpers softly, her moans coming out in quick bursts as her legs tremble beneath her.

You look up to her face and she looks down at you, a haze of lust covering her eyes. You can tell she's right on the edge. You move your fingers inside her, finding that spot you know will make her cum the hardest. You curl your fingers and press them against it, rubbing softly as you flick your tongue against her clit.

“Fuck! Fuck, I love you… I love you,” Elle whimpers. Her body shakes as her orgasm overtakes her, her arms falling limply from the couch. She’s still cumming when you pull your fingers out of her, and she whimpers at the loss of contact.

You slowly make your way up her body, kissing her again as you move over her. You smile softly as her hand comes up to rest on your cheek, stroking the skin with her thumb.

“You’re so perfect,” you murmur softly, pressing your lips into her hand.

Letting your lips trail over her palm and up her wrist, you make a mental note of the blissed out look on her face. Lips curled up at the edges, her brows softened, the frown from before long gone.

“I meant what I said,” you rest your head on her chest, tilting your head to look up at her.

“Hm?” her fingers work their way into your hair, rubbing at the scalp gently.

“I’m not upset with you for leaving. I’m on your side, I always will be,” your eyes dart over her face, looking for any sign that could tell you what she’s thinking.

“And I meant what I said,” she breathes out.

“What’s that?”

“I love you.”

[starwarsmum]

Chapter 2 is up!

Dick sighed and leaned back into the first class plane seat. Jason had been bugging him to come to Paris with him since the end of the year, and had even bought him plane tickets as part of his Christmas present. He had also insisted on accompanying him, which was…suspicious. He was confident it wasn't a matter for their alter egos or they would have just taken the tubes over.

He glanced over at Jason, trying to scrutinise him in the dim light of the cabin. They had begun their flight in the early hours of the evening in Gotham which meant that the sky was only just beginning to lighten in the early morning of Paris. The broad man was snoring comfortably in the seat next to his, the white tuft in his hair almost glowing in the darkness.

As the plane landed, Jason stretched and bolted upright, practically springing to collect his luggage. Dick was concerned - Jason never got excited over a holiday, unless it was a cover for one of their ‘nightly activities’. But Jason had promised him that there would be no need for Nightwing or Red Hood to make an appearance. 

“Hell, Paris apparently has its own heroes, I'd hate to tread on their toes, ya know?” Jason said, apparently in good humour as they waited for their car to be available. Ever since the…disagreement, Dick and Jason had avoided using any of Bruce's resources. “Besides, it's all magical bullshit around here. Way above my pay grade.”

“You really did your research before we came, huh,” Dick marveled, sliding into the passenger seat as Jason took charge. He had apparently made an itinerary, starting with a trip to a famous pastry shop. “Are you sure I can't just look at what you have planned?”

“Nope,” Jason grinned, the car smoothly moving away from the lot. “I hope you've been brushing up on your French, Dickie. You're gonna need it.”

As they approached the corner that housed that patisserie, Dick saw a bustle of activity. Checking the time, he saw that it was just before 8:30, meaning that the school across the street was a hive of activity. There was less of a queue in the bakery thanks to the time and they waited patiently, eyeing up the various goods.

“Bonjour, ” came the jaunty welcome from the petite Asian woman. She was older and had a motherly look, smiling pleasantly as she waited for their order. Dick smiled back at her before ordering.

“Bonjour, madame, nous voudrions deux croissants chocolats et douze macarons, s'il vous plaît.” The woman smiled and rang them up before moving around to collect their order. As she did, Jason stepped forward as well.

“Pardonnez-moi, vous êtes Sabine?” Dick looked at Jason, bewildered, even as the woman - Sabine, apparently - responded cautiously yes. “Awesome, uh, nous sommes ici pour visiter Marinette, ou est elle?” Sabine nodded in understanding, brightening as she handed over their goods. She let them know that Marinette was over at the park nearby. Thanking her for the baked goods and her time, the pair made their way out of the bakery.

“Jason, what on earth was that about?” Dick demanded, as soon as they were out of earshot of the woman. He let out a noise of frustration at Jason's shrug and secretive smile. “Seriously, is Marinette a new girlfriend or something? Is that why you insisted on coming and dragging me all the way to Paris?”

“Listen, all good things come to those who wait, Dickie-bird. Look, there she is now. Marinette!” He hollered the last part, waving and grinning broadly at a small woman, similar but younger to the woman at the bakery. Dick saw her look up and smile, balancing something on her lap. Something that looked suspiciously like a small child, with dark hair

“Jason, why do you know a French woman with a baby ?” Dick was panicking, he could feel it. Had Jason somehow fathered a child in France? Was this a trip so that Dick could meet his new niece or nephew? “Jason, I swear to God, if you had a kid and didn't tell any of us, I will disown you .”

“Bonjour, vous êtes Monsieur Grayson, non?” Dick's eyes were huge as the woman approached, and they were glued to the bundle in her arms. When he didn't say anything, she cleared her throat and tried again. “ Pardon, I am Marinette, and this is Penélope. It is a pleasure, Monsieur Grayson. ”

“I- I think I'm going to pass out,” he whispered, feeling overwhelmed. “Jay, seriously, how could you not tell us? I'm not sure I can actually disown you, but this is big.”

“Penny's not my kid, Dick,” he said, but he did reach out for the wriggly bundle when Marinette held her out. “Marinette is more like…a little sister. Don't worry, little one,” he cooed down at the baby girl, eyes full of wonder. “Uncle Jason is here now.”

“ Oui, par mariage, ” Marinette snorted, rolling her eyes at the man. “Sorry, Monsieur Grayson, I'm sure you are very confused but I had to meet you before we could discuss anything in more detail. Mon mari , he is just being cautious.”

“Someone is being cautious…by sending you to meet me with your kid?”

“Because, I am not the one in danger of being hurt, oiseau, ” she said firmly. At his look of further confusion, she sighed and stepped towards him. “My husband, he has come very far in the years I have known him but he is worried that you will be angry with him. Il est fragile, and I will not allow you to hurt him if it can be avoided.”

“Pfft, fragile, sure,” Jason snorted, although he looked apologetic when Marinette glared at him. “Sorry Mari, but he hasn't changed enough for me to say he's fragile . Look, Dick's getting riled up and he is supposed to be here on holiday, I promise that he's not going to hurt him. He is the very last person in the world that Dick would hurt.”

Dick's eyes snapped up at that, widening as he gazed at Penélope, noting her slightly darker skin and just how dark her hair was. “No,” he whispered, looking up hopefully at Jason. “You found him?”

“Yes, Grayson, he did,” came a deep voice from behind him and Dick span so fast he almost pirouetted. He drank in the sight of his brother, tears springing to his eyes before he stepped forward and grabbed him into a hug. Damian sighed and patted his back, eyes suspiciously bright. 

“ Mon dieu, you brothers are so emotional,” Marinette said cheekily, taking Penélope back from Jason. Damian gave her a mock glare before pulling back from Dick and giving him a smile. “ Parfait, maintenant, can we go back to our home? I am sure Penny would like to have her breakfast and a nap.” 

Damian relieved Marinette of the job of carrying Penélope and she fell into step beside Jason, chattering about their Christmases. Dick felt his nerves come back with a vengeance. Damian seemed at ease, bouncing his daughter as he stepped.

“I am sorry for the cloak and dagger, Grayson. Marinette is, understandably, wary of our family. She only knows what I have told her, and what she has gathered during our time together. She also knows that nobody has come to see us in that time, and it makes her nervous that you have now come.”

“We didn't know where you were, lil D,” Dick said softly. He had always been gentle with Damian and it stayed true, even now. “I swear to you, we looked. We spent a solid month trying to find you, and even after that we kept trying. You didn't take the…usual transport for going abroad, none of your aliases were in use, and Jon said he didn't know where you had gone, only that you had told him you needed to go. I didn't even know you were gone until I returned from my case, and I'd lost 3 weeks alone to that.”

“Tt, Jason told us. He has assured us that it was a random piece of luck that led to him finding us, and has promised that we may reconnect with whom we choose at our own pace. But he did ask that he be able to tell you first. Now, let us go inside and we can settle Penny. Marinette, mon amour, will you start the coffee?”

“Bien sûr, tu veux un thé, mon chéri? ” She replied, setting up a highchair at a dining table towards the back of the room. He confirmed and she twisted her way into the kitchen, humming softly. They could hear her clattering in the kitchen, making Penélope gurgle and clap. Damian smiled at the child indulgently and placed her in the chair. “ Son petit déjeuner, Damian, elle a très faim. Tu en veux?"

Dick was in awe. The little family was clearly practiced in their morning routine, Damian taking charge of feeding his daughter - his daughter, Dick's baby brother had a kid - whilst Marinette made coffee and tea. When had his brother become so domestic? Just how much had changed when he had left home? He wanted to know everything.

“Dames, I'm so happy for you,” Dick burst out, brimming with pride, tempered by his sadness at having missed it. “You have a beautiful family but how…when did you meet? Where did you go after everything with…I just wish I had been there for you.”

Damian shrugged, although his shoulders tightened slightly. “I cannot say what would have been better, but I am happy with my life here, Grayson. Marinette has been a blessing, in many ways. She has helped me heal from things I did not know were hurting me, and she has blessed me with my own family. I would not change where I have come to.”

“Such a serious talk,” Marinette said, bustling into the room with a tea tray, weighed down with coffee, tea, milk sugar and some baked confectionaries. Jason whooped and took a seat at the table, leaving both the seat next to Damian, and the one next to Penny, free. “ Monsieur Grayson, you cannot change what Damian has been through and I would not want you to have stopped him coming to me. It is natural to want him to have never been hurt, mais if he had never left, I would never have found l’amour de ma vie. ”

“ Un conversation serieux, elle a dit, ” Damian said mockingly, making Marinette flush prettily. “Marinette, my love, you cannot say that and then follow up with an even more serious conversation.”

“ Silence, mon coeur,” she said severely. “Anyway, you wanted to know how we met, non ? Would you like to tell the story, or shall I?” Damian snorted and waved a hand to indicate that she should continue. “ D’accord , so I met Damian perhaps a month after he arrived in Paris…”

* Flashback 

It was getting dark, the summer day bleeding into a warm summer night. Marinette had been walking down a side street after meeting with Adrien. She had been prepared for the day to run longer than he had promised but it was still later than she had hoped to be walking home. She kept her head down and scurried across the next alley.

She heard a sound, a fleshy thud and a grunt, and she automatically turned towards it, hand coming up to touch her earrings. She saw the shapes of 2 men grappling and sprinted towards them, calling out as she did. As she reached them, she forced her way between them, shoving back the larger of the two as she stood over the prone form of the second.

“ Arrêtez, quoi tu fais? ” She demanded, meeting the man's eye. He let out an impatient noise before gesturing to a woman who was cowering behind a large bin. Her eyes widened and she looked back at the man on the floor, who was groaning and trying to get up. “ Merde, un voleur? Désolée, je ne savais pas. Ca va? ”

“Tt, je suis bien ,” the man said, his voice deep and annoyed. “ Il ne m’a pas vu avant je lui ai frappé. Il n’a pas utilisé son couteau .”

Marinette gave the man a long look, wondering whether she could turn her back on him long enough to use the restraints she carried with her. She decided that he had already helped one woman, she might as well put a little trust his way. She pulled out her phone and called the police, securing the other man's hands as she did so, speaking in rapid fire French. 

And then she went to the woman and spoke softly, reassuring her that all was well and that she could relax. The man continued to watch her, eyes sharp.

*End flashback

“...and after that, we exchanged numbers. He clearly knew what he was doing, the man had hardly a scratch other than being passed out. He seemed surprised by how I handled the problem, but not unhappy. Running into that alley was the best choice I have made, pour ma vie entier ” she beamed, turning her bright eyes back towards her husband.

“Tt, I think you could have done slightly better than a man who had scarcely a penny to his name and none to call a friend. And I know many of your friends agree,” Damian added grumpily, beginning to clean Penélope as she had finished her meal. 

“Well, I cannot help you, and other people, being wrong, Damian,” Marinette shrugged, standing and taking hold of Penélope. “ Maintenant, please excuse me, I must try to get her to sleep. She is unbearable sans her nap.”

“She will be several minutes, Penny struggles to sleep when we have guests,” Damian mused, the corners of his lips turning up slightly as he watched her go. His finger began turning one of his rings before he stilled and turned back to Jason and Dick.

“She's wonderful, baby bird,” Dick said softly, seeing the love she had for his brother. He ached to have missed so much - his first real relationship, how he had grown, his wedding - but he was relieved that Damian had had the chance to experience it all. He was grateful that someone as loving as Marinette had seen something in Damian and then stayed with him. “I can tell you love her very much, and she loves you too.”

“Oh, yeah, these two are disgustingly sappy. Even just through video chat they could rot teeth,” Jason joked, looking around instead of at either of his brothers. They passed more of the time, catching up on the changes in Dick and Damian's lives. They talked about Mar’i and Kor’i, Damian's job, their weddings…Dick had squealed when Damian pulled out his wedding album to show them.

“Holy shit, is that Jagged Stone?” Jason's voice was hushed but undeniably excited. “No way no way no way , you did not have Jagged Stone at your wedding .”

“He was not my guest, Todd. My wife has many connections, and Jagged insisted on providing the entertainment for the evening portion of the celebration.” At Dick and Jason's slack jaws, he snorted. “Marinette is a world acclaimed fashion designer, she is notable for making pieces for the eccentric musician, and when he heard that his ‘niece’ would be married, he insisted.”

“Hold up, Jagged Stone’s niece…famous designer…are you saying that you married MDC?! But…but Timmy has a contract with you! He is forever rubbing it in our faces that he gets to commission MDC originals, I'm pretty sure it's his only joy at this point, and you're telling me that your wife is the reason he gets to do that? That's so unfair! We've been in touch for nearly 2 months and you didn't think to tell me?”

“This is why he couldn't get you to relocate, isn't it?” Dick said to Marinette as she stepped lightly back into the room. “He's been so upset that he couldn't get you to move to Gotham but you wouldn't, because Damian would never.”

“Non , it was not Damian's decision. I think that he would go anywhere with me if I thought it would be good for us, but I would never wish to hurt him like that. Besides,” she added, in an attempt to lighten the mood, “I have the feeling that Monsieur Drake would monopolise my time if I was that close, and oncle Jagged would never forgive me.”

It was many hours later, and several giant yawns from Dick, that they admitted they needed to get to their hotel. Marinette said goodbye warmly, promising that Damian and Penélope would be available for the rest of their trip, even though she had work to do.

“There will be other visits where I can spend time with you all, but I think it best that Damian be allowed time with ses frères without me worrying over you all. I only ask, Dick, that you respect our decision not to involve Monsieur Wayne . I would never ask you to lie to him, but I must insist that you only give him information that he specifically asks for.”

Dick swore that he would keep the information to himself, although he begged to be able to tell Kor’i, which Marinette readily agreed to. 

“Thank you, Jay,” Dick said, on the drive to their hotel. “No, seriously, this is the best Christmas present I have ever received.”

“So you're not mad that I didn't tell you sooner? Good,” he sighed when Dick shook his head, “because Mari straight up terrifies me.”

Chapter 3

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Ghosts And Cold Turkey Is A Bad Mix

@darthfrodophantom @datawyrms @kalifa100 @lovelyunknown @nat-space-obsessed @duchi-nesten

Jazz has a boyfriend. Jazz has a boyfriend who has NOT met her family. Jazz has a boyfriend who has not met her family and knows absolutely NOTHING about her families career path. Jazz has a boyfriend who was about to have A Bad Time. Danny, Elle, and Dan were going to make sure of that in every way remotely possible… short of world ending calamity.

Alright, so Jazz probably should have actually talked to Bassel about her family, preferably before he had decided that he absolutely had to finally met her family. It was spring break so she couldn’t exactly push it off till later, or long enough to explain anything really, so he was officially going in ‘cold turkey’. Had she mentioned that her family was weird? Of course, that was unavoidable. But she’s fairly certain he thought that ‘weird’ meant being really into fishing or made crochet baby dolls, not everything ghosts. And now that they’re on the road she’s fairly certain that telling the driver that ghosts are ‘the family business’ is a bad idea; it would not be good if he were to drive off of the road in shock.

Bassel chuckling, “so am I going to get regaled with stories about weird birds they’ve seen bird watching or the last obscure B list bird horror flic?”.

Jazz laughing awkwardly, “you have not idea. No idea at all…”.

Unfortunately Jazz was unaware of one simple fact, it wasn’t just her and her plus one who was coming to visit for the break….

Jack beams as a clawed hand crams itself through the seam in the Fenton Ghost Portal™, turning his head to the stairs, “Danny! Your kid’s are here!”.

“AWESOME! WE’RE MAKING COOKIES TO PACIFY THE GREMLIN! SEND ‘EM UP!”.

Sweet! Cookies! Yum. Jack turning back to the portal as the doors slam open loudly and threateningly, Jack chuckling to himself, that man was always such a drama queen. Watching the tall full ghost step through the now open portal, a little sister sitting perched on his shoulders. The little missy waving wildly at her grandpa, “hiyya gramps!”.

The flaming-haired full ghost scoffing, “Yeah yeah, whatever”.

Jack grinning and jumping up, moving to hug the two, the elder of the two stiffening and just ‘putting up with’ the hugging, “glad you kiddos could make it!”, ruffling the littler one’s hair, “there’s cookies”.

“Hell yeah!”, and she’s off like a rocket, flying up the stairs.

Jack eyes the full ghost, “beat any other ghosts down lately?”.

The man snorts, “obviously. Not that any of them were much of a fight”, grinning meanly, all fang, “the gorffens were deliciously squishie though”. Jack laughing as the two large men head upstairs.

Danny’s grinning his head off watching Elle devouring at least fifth-teen ghost-shaped cookies. Waving at Dan as he comes up behind Jack, “there’s pure ecto-cookies too, Mr. Can’t Eat Mortal Realm Food”. The full ghost scowls and flips him off but absolutely takes a couple of the overly green person-shaped cookies. Ha. The human cookies were ghost shaped and the ghost cookies were human shaped.

“Whatever, mom”.

Danny absolutely scowls at that, chucking a cookie at the ghost. While Maddie hums, eyeing them all, “Jazz will be coming by too”.

“Oh? When?”

“Any moment now, I believe”.

“I am in pj’s!”.

Dan snorts, “you look like a dumbass no matter what you’re wearing”. That gets him immediately blasted in the face with a small ecto-beam, the ghost only grinning viscously in response; Danny zipping up through the ceiling to get changed. Mom seriously couldn’t have told him sooner? Gosh! He had a new ugly ass sweater with a stupid ghost joke on it to show off!

The knots in Jazz’s stomach could kill her if they became ghosts right about now, as Bassel pulls them up into her drive way. He nearly rams into the house actually, having been staring at the ops centre on the roof, “uh, okay, spaceship on the roof is slightly more out there than I was expecting?”, looking to her, “and do they run their business from their house? Hence the sign?”.

Jazz laughs awkwardly, “they have permits for it… that they got after building it”.

He shrugs, “I can admire the guts”, and patting her on the shoulder, “and stop being so nervous, I’m a great guy! I’m sure they’ll love me. Plus you’ve said they’re pretty easy to please”.

“Oh I’m not worried about their reaction to you, rather your reaction to them. I have mentioned they’re weird right? And that my dad’s taller than ninety-one percent of the human population?”.

“… you did not mention the height, damn that’s impressive, he’s the one with the personality of a puppy, right?”.

She gives him a supportive back pat before they get out and head to the front door, “yes, and thank everything for that. His hugs are crushing though”.

“I bet”.

The door pops open without her having to knock, meaning Danny’s up, “sup Jazz and- oh shit, you brought company. Fuck. Two seconds”, and slams the door in her face.

Bassel quirking an eyebrow, “what? Is he still in pj’s or something? That was a really ugly sweater. Pink? and green? Together? Ew”, chuckling a little, “and did it say ‘boo’ onto others as you would have others ‘boo’ unto you? Why was there an image of a ghost aggressively holding out a loaf of garlic bread?”.

She snorts, even if she’s honestly confused, “oh no, he always makes sure to wear something really unpleasant to look at when he knows I’m visiting. I believe it’s born from a sick, though harmless, degree of sadism”, frowning, “though I’m not sure why he just rudely slammed the door in our faces”.

And then she hears the cackle, the loud deep malicious cackle, officially realising that she… might have fucked up. Just a little bit. Sighing and facepalming, “oh no”. The couple standing there as seemingly a shouting match goes on inside.

“GET CHANGED YOU DIPSHIT!”

“YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! MOM!”.

“I WILL END YOU!”.

“GO AHEAD AND TRY!”.

“Are they gonna want these cookies or?”.

“DON’T YOU DARE! Yes, gumdrop, leave them some. HEY DROP THAT! DROP THAT NOW!”… “EW!”.

“HA!”.

“DAN!-”.

Then the door jerks open very aggressively, and Jazz and Bassel stare up at the giant of a man with too sharp eyes and a feral unkind grin, “so you bagged someone, eh? Need someone to beat him through the wringer?”, and moves to grab Bassel’s arm; who thankfully has the common sense to pull away while staring almost disturbed at the man.

Jazz grabbing Dan’s wrist and holding him, glaring at the semi-reformed mass murderer/genocidal, parricidal, infanticidal, amicicidal, omnicidal, deicidal, ecocidal, mundicidal, psychopath. “Don’t even think about, Dan”.

“Aw but Jazzy-”.

She points a finger in his face, “no. Bad. No trying to physically fight my boyfriend”.

Then Dan’s head gets yanked back, Danny grasping the man’s ponytail, “get back in here, you shit”. The door closing again.

Jazz turns and winces at Bassel’s freaked out expression, “alright so, I didn’t know Dan was going to be here. I would have absolutely said no, if I’d known that”.

“Should I be worried?”; he looked extremely worried.

Jazz grimacing, “he’s… on parole, for, well, for murder so, yes”, grabbing Bassel’s wrist, “well we’re here now, just, don’t go anywhere with him alone. He’s also a prankster”.

Bassel almost squawking, “Murder?!?!”, as she drags him through the threshold into the Fenton household.

They get smacked with the noise immediately, she still doesn’t get how her parents managed to make a semi-sound barrier for inside the house that worked even when doors or windows were open… even if it didn’t always work well with ghosts or half ghosts. Danny is ramming cookies into Dan’s face while standing on his shoulders and snarling, Dan attempting to yank him off. Elle is bouncing around on all fours playing with cujo, who’s vibrating with excitement literally. Dad is laughing, head on the table, and slamming a fist on it repeatedly; a chair falls over. And Mom’s set the stove on fire and is smacking it leisurely with that fire-proof ghost net; the Fenton Flamo-Containo she thinks.

Jazz rolling up her sleeves, sighing, and moving over to her mom, “what did you burn, mom?”; and starts properly smothering the flames… the flames have faces and eyeballs.

This was a mistake. This entire trip was a mistake. Her poor boyfriend.

Bassel blinks, gives himself a fortifying shake, and swallows, “hi? Um, I’m Bassel?”.

The smallest one is on him in a second, it’s freaky. Her chirping up at him, “why did you say that like a question? Are you a question? If I question you will you become a sentient question mark?”.

What? Her eyes are way too big and her skin is smooth. It’s… very strange. Then she’s being picked up by the smaller boy- the teenager, that he didn’t even hear approach. “Elle-”. That was strangely chastising to hear from a teen. “-no giving people existential crises”.

“Are question edible?”.

The teen quirks an eyebrow, “I mean probably? if you write them on a piece of paper?”.

“If I write them on apples and pelt doctors with them do you think they’ll anwser my questions without poking me?”

“Eh fuck it, give it a go. Tell me if it works”. Then the teen looks up to Bassel, “sup, I’m Danny, the little brother”.

Bassel nods awkwardly, this kid… was seriously off. His skin was too smooth too, eyes not right and dangerous, his hair seemed… darker than black. The hell is he looking at? “Uh. Bassel? I already said that though. Um, I’m guessing the girls the youngest sibling?”.

She pops out around Danny’s leg, “I’m the granddaughter actually”. Danny snorting, “grand-gremlin is more like it”. She bites the teen… does she have fangs???

Bassel blinks harshly, pointing at the… murderer, “his kid? I take it?”. And now that he’s looking, what the hell is up with how similar they all look???

Dan barks out a laugh, shaking his face off like a dog so hard pieces of green? cookie physically stab into the walls and cupboards, “that shit stain is moms kid, not mine! Holy shit!”.

Danny snapping his head to Dan and pointing aggressively at him, “you”, shrugging and changing tones so fast Bassel nearly gets whiplash, “would have absolute nightmare kids and I would cry if your dumbass is the one to make a grandpa of me. Fuck you”.

Bassel is… very confused.

Mrs. Fenton shouting, “and I don’t want to be a great-grandma! Thank you very much!”, and coming over, Jazz looking to be scowling down at the stove, “hello, I’m doctor Maddie Fenton, feel free to just call me Maddie though”, swatting him on the arm, “none of that Mrs. or Dr. stuff”.

Danny pouting at her, “hey, why does Val still have to call you Mrs then?”.

“Because you two are still teens mister”.

The teen only pouts more…. His eyes look far too glass-like, like he’s a doll. Bassel kind of wants to be no where near him. Eyeing Jazz’s mom, the… hazmat is extremely concerning, maybe he should have asked more about what her parents did for a living? or their hobbies? “You have a doctorate?”.

The woman grinning, “that’s right! Primarily in ecto-ology and clinical laboratory science. but also criminology and medical science. My husband, Jack has doctorates in ecto-ology and clinical laboratory science as well, public health, chemistry, and practical theology”, turning away to eye Jazz, “the Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”.

“For the millionth time, mom, I’m still not studying ecto-ology; spectral psychology is completely different and that isn’t even my primary field of study”.

Bassel blinks, okay he knew she said her parents were smart but damn. But… ecto-ology? Really? A pseudoscience? Taking that in conjunction with practical theology made some sense, many religions believed in sprits after all, but with medical degrees? With actual scientific degrees? He’d thought Jazz’s spectral psych was a bit odd, especially with the rumours she talked to ghosts which he brushed off, but at least it made sense since she wanted to be a therapist. Many people can use religion and the belief in spirits to help heal after all. “Ecto-ology huh? As your primary? Interesting choice”.

Then Jazz’s dad is on him in an instant, not inhumanely like Danny had been but to see someone so massive move so fast was jarring, “oh! Did Jazzypants not tell you!”, slapping a hand to his chest proudly, “the Fenton’s are a family of ghost hunters!”.

What.

Maddie eyes her daughter, “Jazz”. While Dan out right cackles evilly and Danny wheezes, hands on his knees, “Jazz you dumbass!”.

Bassel blinks harshly, “ghost… hunters?”, o-kay that was… a lot weirder than he expected. Her parents believed… in ghosts and claimed to ‘hunt’ them. No wonder his girlfriend wanted to study psychology, her parents were delusional.

Jazz can tell that her boyfriend absolutely thinks her parents are insane now. Danny eyeing the guy before wheezing more tells her he’s noticed too, walking over to her and patting her on the arm, “he doesn’t believe in ghosts, does he”.

She sighs, “I… don’t think so”.

“HA!”. Oh Dan was just eating this up.

Elle running over with cujo, holding the pup up at Bassel’s face, he looks like he barely resists recoiling, “pet the ghost pup and believe”.

“Why is he green?”.

“Because he’s dead! Dummy!”.

“What”. Then cujo is in his arms, his face is horrified, but he does cautiously pat cujo’s belly. Him stiffening and staring as the dog floats up and starts walking on the ceiling; Elle giggling.

Danny slinking over to the guy while Maddie tries to swat the dog off the ceiling, “yeah, welcome to Amity, famously the most haunted city in the world. And yes, your girlfriend’s parents are the leading ghost scientist of the entire world and sell ghost weapons to the government and general public”, doing jazz hands, “surprise!”.

Bassel hasn’t even made it past the entry way, Jazz feels like an ass for letting him go into this blind. Her shoving Danny away, “don’t be mean”, eyeing Bassel, who’s wide-eyed, “yeah sorry? I did tell you they were weird”.

Bassel eyes Dan standing on the table to pin a fucking green floating dog to the ceiling. Maddie’s holding a strange taser, that has green electricity, threatening the dog; Danny’s dangling off of her arm shrieking about leaving his pup alone and how if anyone’s going to get tased it should be him. Looking back to Jazz, “by weird you mean insane? I’d question the ghosts thing but there’s a floating green dog on the ceiling. Hell, I’m almost questioning my own sanity”.

Jack laughs, rubbing his neck, “oh yeah! We get that a lot! But hey! People stop calling you crazy once they get attacked by a talking five foot tall hornet or a town gets sucked into another dimension!”.

Jazz huffing, “you guys just will not let me live down that stupid hornet, will you”.

Danny shouting, “technically it was a shapeshifting old man! Not a hornet!”, as he runs out of the room with cujo in tow.

Maddie following with the taser, “Danny! he needs to be punished when he does that!”.

“No! Never! Kiss my dead ass!”.

Bassel blinking, “your… brother swears a lot, and wait did he claim to be Dan’s mom? What? I’m sitting down”.

Jazz wincing, “don’t sit on the orange chair, it screams sometimes”. He squeaks an ‘okay’ and sits on the purple couch rubbing his temples; Jazz plopping down beside him.

Dan shouting, “Is anyone gonna eat the ecto-wienies!?!”, from the kitchen.

Jazz scowling to herself before shouting back, “Dan don’t! I dont want Bassel passing out!”.

“That’s the point!”.

She throws her hands up dramatically in fur-station, at least her dad rushes off to stop Dan from consuming screaming hot dogs while their guest adjusts to his new reality.

Bassel groaning, “and why would I pass out?”.

… “They scream too. It’s… pretty freaky to see someone eating squirming screaming hotdogs if you’re not prepared for it”.

“And why do your parents have hotdogs that do that and how even?”.

Jazz shakes her head, “they might have studied clinical laboratory science but they absolutely do not practice good lab safety or sample safety. Things get contaminated accidentally a lot”.

“And that… makes hotdogs able to move and scream?”.

“That about sums it up, yeah”.

“What the actual fuck, babe”.

Then Dan pops over, arms crossed, “thanks Jazz, now gramps has confiscated all my food”.

Jazz pointing at him as he flops down on the same couch as them hard enough to make the couch bounce, “good and could you sit down any harder?”.

“I was aiming to knock you two love birds off”.

“Zone you are such a jerk”.

“I aim to displease”.

Bassel makes an aggressive motion with his hands, not looking at either of them, “okay what the fuck. First how did that not break the couch? Two how is a teen boy mom? And what is wrong with this town and house?”.

Dan snorts and Jazz knows she’s going to hate what comes out his mouth, him eyeing her, “should I tell him there’s a portal to the afterlife in the basement, or should you?”. She slaps him immediately, wincing from the definite sprained wrist she just gave herself; stupid full ghost jerk. He sticks his tongue out at her and she wants to slap him again; at least his tongue isn't forked at the moment.

Jack pops back in carrying Elle by the waist, her arms and legs dangling down as she giggles, “you good, Jazzy?”.

Dan chuckling, “no. She regrets not warning a certain someone”, putting a hand to his chest, “I fully support that fucking chaotic choice”.

Jazz scowling, “you just enjoy seeing people suffer”.

“Hey, if I’m not allowed to kill folks anymore I gotta get my kicks somewhere? Or would you rather I start skinning animals and leaving their flesh hanging from trees?”. Dan gets bashed off the couch by a baseball bat wielding Danny. “Ow! Seriously mom?”.

“Threaten to skin animals for the lols again and I’ll sic Sam on you”.

Dan puts his hands up, “I’ll pass, you kill joy”.

“Good”.

Bassel gags and makes a face at Jazz, gesturing his hands at Dan as Danny smacks him with the baseball bat again, “what”.

“He’s… got a twisted sense of humour?”.

“Not that!”, Bassel shaking his head, “well yes that, what is wrong with that man. But I mean the mom thing?”.

Jazz eyeballs the full ghost, “Dan’s a tough subject, let’s just say a lot of really nasty things happened to him and at least one psychotic break. And he calls Danny ‘mom’ mostly to annoy him”.

“Oh that’s a lot less weird-”.

“Danny kinda is his mom though”.

Basel groans.

Elle pops her head over the couch, somehow escaping Jack’s grasp, “Danny’s uncle is a mad scientist who has no issue dabbling in super evil human experimentation, Dan and me were tots made from Danny via fucked up science and suffering! Hooray for causing mass confusion!”.

Bassel glancing from the small girl to his girlfriend, “seriously?”.

Jazz sighing, “yeah, sorry. Technically that man’s mine and Danny’s god father, not uncle, but Danny likes to bug the man. Vlad… needs so much therapy”.

Danny shouting, “at least he’s got a cat now! Even if he did name her after mom”; while Dan snags the baseball bat and pops Danny on the head with it. Danny bites the baseball bat.

Bassel shakes his head, “so you weren’t kidding about being somewhat related to one of the richest men on the planet, and he’s basically a crazy super villain; great”.

Jack rubs his neck, “unfortunately yeah, I kinda blew up a proto-portal in his face and he didn’t take that well”.

Jazz puts her hands on her hips, leaning forwards a little, “dad, you guys didn’t visit him in hospital even once, for seven years. Of course he didn’t take that well”.

Danny popping out from behind Jack, “he still complains about that, by the by. I dumped get well soon cards on him last time he was whining about it. Asked him if that made up for it, he shouted no and shot me in the foot”.

Jazz shaking her head, “I still don’t get how you two ever get along”.

“Hey, arch enemies gotta have some bonding time sometimes. Plus, he’s got the good liquor and will absolutely try to bribe me with expensive gifts”.

“And I keep telling you that’s unhealthy and you’re only encouraging him”.

Dan chuckling, “let him, who knows, maybe I’ll get another gremlin sibling”.

Basically everyone, even Bassel, shouting, “NO!”.

Maddie getting back towards the kitchen, and bring out what remains of the ghost-shaped cookies, “cookie?”, offering them to Bassel.

… “are they going to start screaming?”.

Maddie blushing immediately, Jazz covering her mouth and laughing, “no. No. Only things that were once alive tend to do that. Baked goods are fine”, eyeing the cookies, “and they’re not green so they’re safe for human consumption”.

He takes a cookie and munches it very cautiously, “and the green ones?”.

Jazz grimacing, “definitely not safe for human consumption”.

Elle nodding, still behind the couch, “those are for us Phantom’s”. Meaning that now Jazz knows Bassel’s basically going to have to deal with finding out her brother and said brothers kids are all varying degrees of dead.

Bassel eyeing the small child, “do I even want to know?”.

Elle gives a cheery, “nope!”.

Oh okay, maybe her, and thusly Bassel, can dodge that whole situation. Jazz absolutely glares daggers at Dan to say nothing. The man grins evilly but remains silent, thank zone for that.

Bassel taking a breath and slapping his legs before standing up, “okay. Alright. You lot are stranger than I expected but I really like Jazz so I’ll deal”.

Maddie looks relieved but Jack booms, “awesome! You seem like a good guy!”, and smacks Bassel so hard on the back that he gets smacked into the floor and knocked out. Dan’s bending over wheeze laughing, Elle’s floated up into the air curled up and laughing, Danny’s run over to try and help the man while also laughing, and Jazz is shaking a finger at her dad angrily.

Maddie sighs, face in a hand, “Jack”; while Danny’s hoisting Bassel up and back onto the couch, smacking his cheeks to get him to come ‘round.

When Bassel comes to he nearly screams, that Danny boy’s face is inches from his own and he’s crouched on Bassel’s chest. How much did this kid weigh??? And damn were his eyes still extremely creepy. At least he’s clued in what was wrong with him, he was uncanny, like he wasn’t quite human but close enough that it was very wrong in that base instinctual way. The teen grins, it’s like his teeth don’t fit in his mouth and the smile is just a hair too wide. “Cool, you’re awake. Was starting to wonder. Dad smacked you into the floor by accident, if you don’t brace yourself when he goes in for back pats then you’ll wind up on the floor”, titling his head owlishly, “lesson learned?”.

Bassel nodding at the kid that hasn’t moved his face out of Bassel’s, “um, yeah?”, frowning, “your guy’s dad is freakishly strong, you know that?”. The boy just shrugs before hopping off Bassel’s chest, letting him sit up and rub his head a little. “Do your parents always wear the hazmats?”.

Danny chuckles, “yup, and they will still claim they are stylish”, rolling his wrist, “they try to get me and Jazz in ‘em all the time. But hey, I’ll stick to wearing that kinda bullshit when I’m dead”.

Jazz’s head pops out of the kitchen entryway, “oh good, you’re up. You up for pie? There’s eight for some reason”.

“Are… they all the same kind?”.

“Sadly, yes”.

Even he can admit that was sad, variety was nice. But Danny pouts at her, “hey, I’m not about to discourage my personal wannabe poacher just because he doesn’t have a single creative bone in his entire metal mecha suit”. What the hell was any of that supposed to mean? This kid was probably one of the most confusing people Bassel’s ever met, Elle being a close second.

“You could at least try to convince him to try lime cream instead of him shoving lemon cream at you three times a year”.

Bassel holds up a hand, “how old are these pies?”. His girlfriend blinks like that hadn’t even crossed her mind… she might be too used to this level of strange perhaps.

Danny waving him off, “oh I helped him find a solid anniversary gift for his girlfriend, which fine was extremely explosive but eh, so he went a little pie happy. They’re two days old”.

“Oh alright, I’ll have some then”; two days wasn’t even weird. That many pies was odd and how he got them was bizarre, but not as bad as a dog walking on the ceiling or Dan-the-psycho talking about skinning animals like it was funny. Him and Danny joining everyone in the kitchen proper finally. The stove is charred from top to bottom, fires were clearly common. The fridge… was glowing? The toaster looks like it’s definitely some kind of project and not safe to use at all. The table is clean at least, besides the cookie crumbs and excessive amount of pies.

Said pie is extremely good, like professional good. Bassel blinking at it, “damn that’s good”.

Danny chirping, like actually chirping, “I know right?”; how does a human mouth make that sound???

“Then why isn’t… Dan eating any?”; maybe evil or not…

Dan flips Bassel off, grabs a slice and proceeds to hurl it at him; Bassel barely ducking in time while Jazz, Maddie, and Danny all shout, ‘NO!’. Elle is giggling though and Bassel would bet money that’s encouraging the man. Danny smashes an entire pie right in Dan’s face in retaliation, Elle smashing a slice on Danny’s head; it just devolves into a full on pie food fight from there.

Jazz crouch walking to avoid splatter while Maddie shoos the three outside with a broom, Jack following while shouting about getting the hose. Jazz putting a hand on his arm, “you good”.

“What twenty something starts a food fight!”, shaking his head, “better than throwing a knife at me I guess”.

“He usually only throws knives at Danny”.

She said that like it was normal! And not at all disturbing or something to be worried about! “He actually throws knives at people!”.

She winces like she just now realised that wasn’t okay, “right. Don’t worry about it, he might make a lot of threats or do threatening stuff but he’s heavily against going back into solitary confinement”, her huffing, “which I still think was cruel, deprivation chambers are one hundred percent a form of torture and no one deserves that”.

“What kind of jail has a freaking deprivation chamber, oh my god”. No wonder that man seemed like he had the socialization skills of a very threatening murderous brick wall.

The two stand up and they can see the three ‘Phantom’s -he’s still confused on that one but too scared to ask- getting hosed off in the front yard by Maddie; Jack’s helping by physically holding Dan up in the air and laughing. What??? Bassel blinks, “no one should be able to lift that beast of a man up like that”.

And then there’s an explosion, Bassel jerking around and Jazz just turning causally to watch purple smoke leak out from what’s labeled as a lab door. Her grabbing him with a quick, “nope”, and dragging him outside.

“What was that?”.

“Don’t know, but I’m not taking the chance that whatever their latest project is is noxious”, then shouting at her mom, “mom! Something blew up in the lab and it’s leaking purple gas!”.

Bassel very strictly remembers her not long ago mentioning that her parents weren’t big on lab safety, noxious though? These people were completely nuts. His nice, level headed, kind, smart, cautious Jazz came from this??? Yes she could be a little neurotic, especially about food and sharps saftey which he absolutely understood now, and she was a little… spooky sometimes. But still! He still didn’t believe her hair was really that orange without her dying it, even if he’d never seen proof of her doing so. And she always had on some black tourmaline or turquoise that she claimed was ‘protection’, he just thought she was being a little spiritual, now it seemed more like this ghost thing.

Danny shakes his wet hair off like a feral dog, “that’s probably my lunch!”.

Jazz throwing her hands up, “why is it leaking purple gas!”. Bassel muttering, “I think it exploding is more concerning than that”. Jazz shaking her head at him, “Danny’s favourite local restaurant has highly explosive trade marked sauce”.

“What!?!”. How was that even legal?

Danny pointing a finger at Jazz’s face as he moves to head inside to… ‘rescue’ his food, “hey, you haven’t had real food till you’ve had a Mighty Meaty Mega Nasty Melt and Phantomized Fries”, shrugging, “and I was trying to make blackened ecto-wine infused bread, for sandwiches”.

Jazz makes a face at the boys retreating back, “ew”.

Bassel blinking, “did, did this restaurant really name a menu item ‘Nasty Melt’?”. He’s revising his previous opinion, this entire town was nuts; not just these people.

Elle, very wet, bounds over, “yup! It’s called the Nasty Burger, used to be Tasty burger but someone vandalized it and there was a vote to just keep the N”, grinning, “I think it’s funny, the sauce is to die for”.

Jazz cringing, “oh no not the death jokes, at least spare my boyfriend those, ugh”. The little girl sticks her tongue out and pouts a little before running back inside at the pies. Jazz going wide-eyed and following with a shout, “oh no you better not! Mom just got you cleaned up! You put that pie down missy!”.

Bassel cautiously sticking his head in, cautious of both fumes and pie, to stare at his girlfriend holding a literal child at gun point while the child menacingly holds a pie over her own head. “um, why are you threatening a child with a gun”.

She brushes him off like this isn’t messed up, “it’s fine, there’s no normal guns in this household”. What does that even mean? Ghost guns? Is that what this is? Is that why it’s slightly glowing green!

Then Dan scares the crap out of him, speaking up from directly behind him, “I wouldn’t worry about it, she’s a terrible shot anyway. She could put a gun directly against someone’s temple and still hit a cars side mirror instead”.

“I’ve gotten better!”.

“No you have not, you managed to shoot a fire hydrant and set it on fire last time; I was impressed”.

“Shut up, Dan”.

“No I don’t think I will”.

At least Danny, who somehow got behind Elle, takes the pie from the girl and wags a finger at her, “repeat chaos isn’t chaos, it’s a pattern”.

“What if I cut off one of my hands, put it in the pie, then smack her with it? Then it would be a pie high five, not a food fight”.

Danny blinks, “I’m stealing that idea for the next time the Lunch Lady throws flaming stoves at me”.

Bassel… Bassel is not questioning that. “Kid, your mind must be a very strange place”. Sure little kids always said odd stuff, things adults wouldn’t even dream of, but this was a special brand of odd.

Dan shoving his way past Bassel, nearly knocking the guy over and giving him some major hebejebes, to go pat Elle on the head in amusement. Maddie steadying him, “you okay? And at least she’s not as bad as Danny used to be”, crossing her arms and shaking her head, “he thought blackbird pie meant to actually find birds and bake a pie with them. It was incredibly disgusting, especially because he didn’t know how to use an oven yet so he maxed out its temp for three hours”.

Oh okay, so Danny was just like that too. What was that about apples and trees? “That… probably could have gone even worse”. The teen, then kid, could have burned the house down!

The woman grumbled, “at least he’s never sucked the house into the mirror dimension, unlike someone”, as she heads in to help Jazz, Danny, Dan, and Elle actually clean up the pie mess. Jack shouting, “I said I was sorry about that!”. Danny shouting back, “at least no one’s pulled a Technus and walked the house into the ocean!”; while Bassel is wondering how the heck the eldest Fenton heard his wife’s grumbling from the other side of the yard.

There was something seriously physically off with all these people. Including Jazz. He’s feeling very distinctly reminded of a lot of things he’s just sort of brushed off or thought nothing of about her before. He used to think a lot about how vibrant her eyes were, or that her teeth were a touch sharp; nothing like the ‘Phantom’s but still. She was amazing at lock picking and could handle ‘practice’ patients others couldn’t; even if she would also ‘force’ therapy on random people sometimes. And eyeing her parents, they’re the same. Intense eyes, oddly pale almost glassy skin, teeth that feel like they’re sharp but aren’t; it’s not uncanny the way those three ‘Phantom’s were, but it’s still odd.

Dan was the worst though, easily, when the man brushed past him it felt like being cornered by massive wolf or mountain lion. If Bassel had ran into that man randomly on the street there’s no way he’d think he was anything close to human. Danny and Elle at least seemed humanish, almost human; Dan just seemed like he was playing pretend.

Bassel shakes himself off before stepping back into the chaotic Fenton household, “am I going to get pie thrown at me again?”.

Danny looks at him, “nope”, then glares at Elle, “or someone’s losing her Switch privileges”; the girl gasps in horror.

See that? That was normal. Normal punishment, normal reaction to a punishment. Perfectly normal. … Then the girl threatens to ‘liquify herself in protest’; goodbye normal, it was nice while it lasted. Either way he moves to help clean up pie a little, speaking back up, “so your bread fine?”.

“It ate itself and imploded, so no”. What. The boy grins cheerily, right too many teeth, “which means it must have tasted good, meaning I’m on to something”.

“I? Guess?”. He’s honestly just trying not to stare at the teens teeth.

…

They somehow do actually make it to the living room to watch a movie. It actually is a weird B list bird horror flic, which feels too normal now and that frankly concerns him. He’s not sure he wants the get used to this level of insanity. He loves Jazz but he is fully intending to potentially never step foot in this building again after this. How was he going to survive here for a week??? Blinking, oh right, elbowing Jazz and whispering, “hey, all the luggage is still in the car right?”. Then Dan scares the crap outta him again, “don’t bother whispering, I can still hear you”. Jazz grabs a random round thing from the floor to smack the man with for that.

Jazz leaning against Bassel again, “the longer we leave it in the car the longer it’ll take to get contaminated or destroyed, I told you not to bring your expensive computer ‘just in case you had time’ for a reason”.

Considering the amount of mess and literal exploding/imploding -again, what???- bread, he could understand that sentiment; oh and the actual guns apparently just lying around. He is very glad he listened to her, that laptop was never setting an inch of its metal casing in this building. He winces, “yeah, thanks for that”. She pats him fondly.

Danny straightens out so fast that it aggressively startles Bassel. “Oh! Think I should invite Val?”, eyeing Jazz smugly, “since someone brought their little lover”.

Jazz scowls at him, “Danny, I think Basel having to put up with my very weird family including the two weirdest members, is more than enough without adding in your trigger happy girlfriend with serious anger management issues. Especially because I know for a fact she won’t agree to leave all her weapons at home”.

Danny looks offended, putting a hand to his chest and paying no mind to the bird-related massacre happening on screen, “I’ll have you know she doesn’t even sleep unarmed, she hasn’t been unarmed since she was fourteen”.

“Exactly”.

You know what? Bassel thinks that actually makes sense. Danny was too strange to date someone remotely normal. “I’m not even surprised, you’re a little too freaky to date someone who’s just, you know, an average person. So sure, date an aspiring cop or whatever”.

Danny snaps and finger guns at him, “think more like nanobot powered teenage ghost hunter with a jet sled”.

What. Bassel blinking, “so somehow you’re the more normal one in the relationship. This girl’s in therapy right”. Jazz actually laughs at that.

Danny screws up his face, “Ancients you sound like Jazz”, looking at her, “he sounds like you”, looking back to Bassel, “and eh, my personality has more sparkles and explosions”, tilting his head, “besides, how am I freaky, besides the gremlin energy and general chaos anyways”.

Dan snorting, “and the fact that you think dumpster chic is a good thing”.

“As if you don’t wear the same”.

“Excuse you, I lift all my clothing off of the finest of corpses”.

Bassel, and Danny for that matter, gag; Danny’s seems more mock dramatic gag though. Bassel shaking his head, “add in the fact that if someone told me you were actually a doll pretending to be human, I’d believe them”.

That gets him multiple odd looks, including from Jazz. No one bothers to pause the movie even though everyone’s attention is now on him as she quirks an eyebrow at him, “what do you mean by that? Sure my little brother can move too quietly or too quickly, and his still too skinny and pale, but I wouldn’t call him possibly inhuman looking”.

Danny points at his face, “I’m pretty sure if I looked legit freaky Dash would mock me relentlessly for it”.

Bassel is baffled, are these people just… used to him so much they don’t notice? And Dan’s just looking to the side snickering meanly, Bassel almost gets the feeling the man knows what he’s talking about. Bassel looking at each of them, “you’re telling me you guys don’t notice his skin looks like weirdly glassy play dough? Or his eyes are too big? That his teeth don’t fit in his face? He’s weighs less than a bag of potatoes!”. They all look very confused and turn to stare at Danny, who shrinks down a little awkwardly; Dan’s laughing is full on guffaws now, head tilted over the back of the chair that apparently sometimes screams. When Elle points at her own face and grins too wide, Bassel nods, “yes, you too. Less than, your uh, dad but still”, gesturing at everyone, “honestly all of you have hair that’s too strongly coloured, overly vibrant eyes, and no skin texture”, scratching his head, “I thought my girl just had a spot on skin care routine and impressive hair colouring technique that she refused to share”. Jazz fiddles with her orange hair a little, making him feel a little guilty. Bassel coughing, “not that I dislike that”. Dan barks out another loud laugh.

Jazz eventually hurling another random Bassel doesn’t know what at the man, “stop laughing! Us looking weird to normal people isn’t funny! You jerk!”.

Oh okay. So they don’t know. That was weird? Does no one in town comment on it? Does no one even notice it? Was everyone in this town that strange??? Or was everyone in town strange looking themselves?

Dan huffing another laugh, “oh it very much is! Especially because I already knew and did in fact tell you morons”, waving a hand around leisurely, “not my fault you shits thought I was just being an ass”. Bassel guesses it makes sense that the strangest and most startling looking -and feeling, frankly- one would be the one to notice.

Danny looks offended, “and how do you know this? The fuck Dan”.

The man scowls meanly, it’s very mocking, “oh I don’t know, maybe because I spent ten years travelling the globe randomly killing people? Maybe that’s it? I’m the only fucker here who’s done enough travelling to tell people find this face”, gesturing at his face and smirking, “alarming, and not just because I was usually either threatening to kill or trying to kill them”.

“What? you walked around with that face?”.

“Eh I got bored of the other one sometimes”.

Bassel is choosing to ignore part of this conversation, otherwise he’s not going to get over his girlfriend being related to what’s sounds like more ‘mass murderer’ than ‘single murderer’. Not to mention that he doesn’t want to know what is meant by the murderer having different ‘faces’. He doesn’t want to know if this man’s a real life leather face.

Elle pouts, “I travel a lot, no one tells me I look weird?”.

“Sis, you’re a kid, all little brats look fucking weird”.

The little girl giggles, earning a fond but very quick look from the large man. At least it seemed like he actually liked his family maybe.

Danny gestures at nothing and scowls at Dan, “Dan, you’re a six foot eleven wall of muscle with a face that’s default setting is evil smirk, of course people think you look scary!”.

“Oh people found me disturbing when I was wearing your skin too, mom”.

“Fuck you”.

Bassel forces himself not to ask how that’s even possible. ‘Wearing the skin’ of someone who still has their skin is impossible and not to mention the size difference, it wouldn’t fit; why is he even thinking about the logistics of this?!? Ew!

Jack scratches his head, “while I can’t say I see, I doubt you’re making stuff up”, looking at Maddie, “all the ecto you think?”.

The mother nods to herself, tapping her chin, “there’s not much else it could be, especially if our oddness is merely tamer versions of Danny’s and the grandkids”.

Bassel is lost, looking to Jazz and quirking an eyebrow. She cringes, “Danny has a very intense version of ecto-contamination”. She says that like it’s not extremely weird and concerning.

Danny chuckling, “if by that you mean I’m fucking half dead then yeah”.

Jazz swats him, “Danny! For zones sake!”.

“Hey!”, Danny sticks his arms out nearly smacking multiple people, “if I’m that freaky looking then there really isn’t a point, Jazz!”.

“I hate that you’re right!”, Jazz huffing while Bassel is officially realising that everyone just shouts at each other in this house, regardless of if they’re happy or mad or excited. Her turning to him, “my brother’s a bit dead”.

Bassel absolutely squawks at that, “what”. And then suddenly the kid’s glowing and his eyes are green, the actual hell? Elle leaning forward, sticking her tongue out and pointing at her face, also with green eyes and glowing. Bassel cautiously and slowly eyeing Dan, his eyes flash blood red and yup, glowing.

Okay. Alright. He’s in a room full of glowing people, what is he supposed to do with this? He officially thinks that anyone who has ever found out someone else wasn’t quite human in a movie was way too damn calm about it!

Jazz winces a little, she can tell her boyfriend has absolutely no idea how to react to his girlfriend's glowing family members, so she pats his shoulder, “is it weird? Yes. Am I glad my brother is only partially dead? Absolutely. Don’t worry about it?”.

He blinks owlishly at her, clearly freaked out, “it’s kinda hard not to worry about my sister having dead family members kicking around and her whole family including her being contaminated by ghost stuff enough to alter their appearances”.

Then Danny goes and opens his stupid mouth, holding up a still glowing finger, “technically, Dan’s the only one that’s totally dead. Me and Elle are still alive-ish”.

Bassel blinks again and asks something that Jazz really wishes he didn’t, “and why’s he the dead one?”, in a squeaky voice; the movie is absolutely long forgotten at this point.

Dan’s smirk is flat out evil and before anyone can stop him he responds, “oh only because I got my human shit torn out and disemboweled it. Ate half my uncle and flew off into the sunset”.

Bassel leans so far away he nearly falls off the couch, “what. The. Fuck”. While everyone else, even Elle, chastisingly shouts, “DAN FENTON!”, at the smirking full ghost. The tact on that jerk! The only tact he had was evil tact, that sought chaos and destruction!

“OoOooOOoOO, full name, I’m So HuRt. I’m So UtTeRlY aPoLoGeTiC. Truly”. The ass doesn’t mean a damn word of that and he wants them to know it. He smirks, “if we want to play that game I can just show him what I really look like”.

Danny standing up and pointing at Dan, “do that and I’m souping you”. Dan puts an offended hand to his chest and scowls deeply.

Bassel sputters, “I am never asking you people questions again, oh my god”.

Jazz can’t even blame him, even if she knows he eventually will ask more questions about, well, their everything. It was hard not to after all. She rubs his arm, “you really shouldn’t think about it too hard or worry, yes we’re used to it and know the admittedly weird science behind it”, cringing, “even if apparently only one of us was aware none of us looked normal”.

He blinks harshly, swallowing, “uh huh. You guys have a bathroom, right. Because I definitely need to decompress by staring into the mirror for a concerning length of time”.

Not good. Jazz wincing and getting up, “I’ll show you”, then pausing and eyeing Danny, “is the bathroom actually clean”.

Danny tilts his head and grimaces, also not good, “maybe don’t open the lower left cupboard”.

“Right”. Damn it, Danny. Pulling Bassel along as they head upstairs, “okay so listen to him and don’t get curious. He might have spilled something and not cleaned it so it’s gotten moldy. Or he shoved goddamn bandaging under there. Or there’s a ghost trapped in the cabinet”.

“I… kind of hate that I’m hoping it’s the first one”.

“Well considering it’s Danny, it’s probably the second. He gets injured a lot and has a non-existent biohazard safety mindset”, gesturing at the open bathroom, “anyway, here”.

… “is Danny why the shower floor looks bloodstained, wait never mind I don’t want to know”.

She gives him a supportive shoulder pat as he goes in and close the door almost hard. This… this has not gone well. At least he hasn’t ran out screaming? Yet anyways.

She heads back down stairs, pointing at Dan, “I’m blaming you, because it is your fault”, pointing at Danny, “and yours, because you somewhat made him”.

“Hey! He made himself!”.

“And he is you so my point still stands”.

“Jazz!”.

Jazz doesn’t really care that being reminded of that fact bothers her little brother, him and his off shoots have basically been terrorising her boyfriend. He should be bothered! “I am gonna be so mad at you if he decides this is too much”. At least everyone winces apologetically, except Dan who just glances away which was the closest he usually came to a ‘sorry’.

Jack rubs his neck, “sorry, Jazzy-pants. Want us to bring your guy’s stuff in?”.

She scowls, she’s not going to effectively trap her boyfriend here by doing that, “considering I don’t even know if he wants to stay here now, no dad”. Her dad winces further, good.

She sighs, flopping back down on the couch, “let’s just rewind and finish the movie. Like normal people”. Dan snorts at her and she glares bloody murder at him.

Okay. So. His girlfriend’s family are not ‘weird’, rather they are actually insane and physically impossible. Which is extremely not okay. But he likes Jazz, a whole lot actually. A ton even. She was odd but not insane or too physically impossible; and she didn’t live here, he wouldn’t have to see these people -especially Dan- often. A handful of times a year at best right now. Hell she might be annoyed enough to ban that Dan guy from being within ten feet of him; Bassel would not complain about that. Her parents at least seemed harmless, over enthusiastic and strange but acceptable. However he knew for a fact that him liking or not liking her parents didn’t mean much, she’s made it clear that she doesn’t think too highly about their opinions. Her brother though, he knows she loved that kid, sometimes she made it sound like she was more his parent than their parents were. Said brother was half freaking dead. Because apparently ghosts are a real thing and can just walk around the living like it’s nothing… and also apparently being half alive was a remotely possible thing. Also Danny, a teen, has kids. Two kids. One who’s clearly older than him and committed a likely extremely disturbing amount of murder.

Well…

They’re not Jazz’s kids. So he, maybe? won’t have to deal with them much. Jazz seemed surprised they were even here after all. Alright. Okay. He can deal with this.

That’s frankly a lie.

But he can at least manage and pretend he’s cool. Then, when they go back to uni he can have a mild freak out in his dorm room and their relationship can go back to sort of normal. He is absolutely going to ask about her ‘ecto-contamination’? later though, and if those stories about her ‘communing with ghosts’ were actually true and was she just talking to her brother or was she also talking to other ghosts.

Pushing himself off of the sink he’s been leaning on and slapping his cheeks, “you got this, man”. His reflection does not copy him.

What the actual hell is wrong with this place? Besides the apparent portal to the afterlife in the goddamn lab. How did these people break a mirrors ability to mirror? Shaking his head and pulling out his phone, okay he’s looking these people up, like he goddamn should have already.

…

Okay yeah they just are fully public with the ghost hunting thing huh? That must have been fun to grow up with. Jazz did say she tried to separate herself as much as possible from them as a teen, this is absolutely why. And apparently her brother saved an entire species of gorillas? By… climbing in one’s cage… so he’s just always been crazy and reckless, got it; but hey, at least the gorillas aren’t extinct now.

Bassel’s not surprised that looking up Elle gets him nothing, she’s a young child after all, but Dan? For a supposed murderer there isn’t even a single result about him. No wiki article, no victim impact statements, no mugshot, no public court files, no morally questionable serial killer podcasts, nothing. Weird. But he’s absolutely not asking the man about that, because he doesn’t know what kind of nightmarish response he’s going to get. Considering his age -aka, being literally older than his freaking parent- it might be some sort of time travel thing, which he mildly hates the entire notion of, especially since he’s not going to claim he knows what’s possible or not now.

After all, his reflection is still just ‘standing’ there staring at him while he’s been pacing back and forth staring at his phone. He’s not googling his girlfriend of course, that would be creepy, but what about the ‘Phantom’ thing? That… that gets a lot of results. Freaky ones.

…

So…

Apparently…

This town has a goddamn dead superhero? That’s a freaking colour inversion of Danny with green eyes and also named Danny? Which there is no way that’s ’just a coincidence’. So Jazz’s brother is kind of dead, has an ‘arch enemy’, and is almost definitely some kind of dead superhero. Cool. That’s… that’s not completely insane at all. He officially feels like he’s in a knock off marvel movie with a secret identity reveal and everything.

And oh hey! Girl in red on a jet sled, Danny’s girlfriend, also definitely a superhero. Cool. This is Hell.

… Based on all the photos and videos of full blown super powered fights this town might actually be part of hell or an afterlife full of apparently violent dead people. No wonder Jazz was leery of him so much as visiting her home town, nonetheless her parents. A google of the stats shows that these ‘ghost attacks’ happen multiple times a day and it looks like they sometimes did a concerning amount of damage. Also the mayor is that Vlad guy? The evil uncle god father arch enemy guy. Why? How even? … It was probably mind control. Oh he kind of hates this.

Also though, how the heck was this town and this whole ghosts and a death dimension situation, not known about world wide?!? If it’s some kind of government suppression of information he’s going to scream; not actually scream just… internally scream. You’d think this would be something that’s in national news, an actual real life superhero and villains, another dimension, the afterlife… Okay perhaps being super public about an after life could cause some issues among religious groups.

Then his reflection growls at him.

Nope.

He’s not dealing with that.

He’s out of the bathroom in two seconds flat, practically rushing down the stairs, wheezing. Everyone, but Dan, is on the couch again apparently finishing the bird movie; Dan is just outright nowhere to be seen which he is a-okay with. “My reflection growled at me”. Jazz buries her head in her hands, this was obviously not how she wanted this first meeting to go; it wasn’t how he wanted it to go either, but he didn’t know it going this absurdly was even possible. Meanwhile Maddie and Danny shout, “JACK!”, clearly thinking the mirror is his fault. Wasn’t something about him going to the mirror dimension mentioned earlier? or is he just starting to come up with his own crazy possibilities.

The large man runs his neck, laughing, “whoops! Must have grabbed the wrong mirror!”.

“Wrong? Mirror?”. Damn right, he said he was done asking these people to explain literally anything.

Bassel eyeballing Jazz’s dad as he gets up and begins to move upstairs, “ah yeah, Danny-boy head-butted the old one so it had to be replaced, musta got the new mirror and the dimensional mirror mixed up!”.

Why is this kid head-butting mirrors and why does this family just have a ‘dimensional mirror’? Ugh, Bassel’s poor head. Jazz apparently has these same questions, or one of them at least, as well as the willingness to ask it. “Little brother? Why were head-butting the mirror? Young Blood isn’t trying to give you another nervous breakdown, is he?”; Bassel can practically feel the worry in her voice.

Danny scowls dramatically, “I’m fine, Jazz. No need to psycho babble me, Ancients. Skulker just decided that tooth brushing time was good head shooting time, I confiscated his right arm for that and he didn’t get it back for three days”, the kid looks proud of himself, “he hasn’t attacked me in the bathroom since”.

Bassel blinks, slightly horrified, Danny what? stole some… ghosts arm? as punishment? “Uh, I’m pretty sure a supposed superhero teen is not supposed to go around stealing people’s limbs”. Jazz groans very loudly and very tiredly.

Danny laughs, “oh! You looked me up huh? Don’t worry, I only took his mecha bodysuits arm, not his actual real arm”.

That’s… stranger but better. Then Elle pipes up, “even if he had it wouldn’t matter! See-”.

“NO!”.

Bassel is not going to ask why Danny just grabbed both of her wrists and glared at her. He has absolutely learned that if someone, or everyone, shouts ‘NO’ at someone else then he absolutely did not want to know why. Instead he watches his girlfriend get up and smile very awkwardly at him, he’s unpleasantly aware of the fact that her teeth were probably whiter than they should be, “you okay? Are we good?”.

“Absolutely not, but yes, yes we’re alright. I am absolutely not visiting here frequently though. And if Dan ever shows up anywhere near my dorm I’m hitting him with a frying pan immediately”.

She actually chuckles at that, “that’s fair, I tried to shoot him when we first met and tried to hit him with the creep stick the second time”. He’s not going to ask what a creep stick is, but he’s glad she had the sense to hit someone who’s clearly dangerous. “But call if he does do something that stupid, which he shouldn’t if he knows what’s good for him. He will only laugh if you hit him with a frying pan”.

Maddie shaking her head and getting up, “I’ve done that a time or two, he has a habit of trying to sneak food or add poisons just to see if he can get away with it”. Bassel doesn’t have words to express how concerning that is. “And I’m sorry this hasn’t been the best impression, it’s also unfortunately not the worst either though”. Oh. This could be worse? How? Blowing up the house? Hospitalising him? Probably!

Elle sticks a star sticker on him, “congratulations! For passing the weirdness tolerance test!”, looking back at Danny, “am I allowed to try and bite him now?”.

“No, you little shit”, Danny grumbling, “teething preteens are the worst”.

Wasn’t teething supposed to be something babies did? He wants to ask but nope, he’s not going there.

Then Jack’s voice startles him a good bit, “Your reflection must have been staring at you for a while there, buckeroo! Had to really shake it to get him to go away”.

Man was Jack ever a loud guy. Bassel chuckling awkwardly, “yeah I was a little preoccupied and choosing to ignore the insane broken mirror”.

Dan has apparently come back, “ha! You’re lucky your reflection didn’t try to reach through the mirror and strangle you”.

Bassel is not asking. Bassel is not asking. Bassel is not asking. But note to self, do not ignore sentient reflections that move of their own accord. Jazz even shakes her head, “okay that wasn’t the smartest decision you could have made, but I get it”, and she gestures at the couch, “want to finish the movie? Then we can get our stuff in?”.

He sighs, tired, “yeah, yeah, that’s… that’s good”. Just let everything else be normal, or as normal as it can be with the literal walking dead being in the room. Elle grabs him and Jazz before dragging them to the couch, the child is way too strong.

Jazz can practically feel the relief in her bones when they make it through the rest of the movie without anymore incidents, everyone getting up and Jack grabbing a scowling disgruntled Dan to help bring stuff inside. Dan grumbling, “I feel the need to point out that Danny is just as strong as me even if he looks like a damn beanpole”.

Danny shouting, “you mean I’m stronger than you! And hey! I’m lean!”, after them.

Bassel quirking an eyebrow at Jazz, her shaking her head with a small smile, “ectoplasmic energy counts for more than physical appearances with ghosts, my little brother might still be a child and thusly hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet, but he can absolutely take his kid down a peg or two”. And he absolutely loved to pester Dan about that fact, while Dan loved to pester Danny about still being ‘puny’.

Dan growls from the garage doorway, “You lot would be dead otherwise and you know it”.

Jazz rolls her eyes, “maybe at one point but we’ve grown on you, don’t lie mister”. The full ghost only grumbles incoherently in response.

Of course her dad tries to open the trunk before Bassel can unlock it, resulting in him picking the car up, Dan having to catch the car when the trunk opens taking dad’s grip with it. Dan chuckling, “normally I’m the one who’s into picking up vehicles”.

Dad chuckling himself, “yeah and you usually throw them when you pick them up!”.

Bassel shakes his head as the full ghost sets his car on the ground fully, “do not throw my car, do all of you just have super strength”.

Jazz facepalms when her dad tilts his head like a puppy, “little cars like these aren’t that heavy though? I could have lifted this back in my college years even”. Bassel looks baffled when she glances at him.

Jazz sighing at her dad, “Dad, your parents were ghost hunters too, you’ve probably been contaminated your whole life, like me and Danny”.

“Oh right! Ha! I forgot about that! Silly me!”.

Bassel shakes his head in disbelief but takes a few of his things instead of letting the two much larger men carry everything. Jazz makes zero attempt to help Dan with any of it, her sticking her tongue out him instead. He snickers at her, “really taking the higher road here, aunty”.

“Like you’re one to talk”.

“The high road and I are incapable of coexistence”.

“Exactly”.

At least it seems like Bassel is fondly amused with their bantering, instead of disturbed, as they move from the garage and up to her old room/the spare room. Her eyeing her mom while the three men set things down in the room, “so where are Elle and Dan staying?”.

Dan scoffing from inside the room, “you say that like I sleep at all”. She studiously ignores him.

Her mom humming, “why don’t you ask Elle? Because I’m not sure”. And Elle pops out from behind Maddie, “we’re not. Grandma Pandora’s supposed to give me some sword fighting lessons!”, pouting, “and I gotta practice if I ever want to beat pops someday”.

Danny can be heard shouting, “like that’ll ever happen!”, from somewhere; and the little missy is off like a rocket after her dad probably to tackle him.

Dan growling, “if you try to make me organize your guys shit I’m going to intentionally remove every screw, battery, and third paper from everything I can get my claws on”, before Jack laughs and pushes the ghost out of the room. Dan eyeing Jazz, “and if you’ll remember, I’m not ‘allowed’ to be out past sunset”.

Ah right, she did actually forget about that. “Serves you right”. As he heads down and back to the living room he sticks his tongue out at her, it absolute is forked this time.

Bassel popping his head out of the room, “you want your studies and research notes left on the night stand? And remind me why we’re staying inside this strange house instead of a hotel, there’s… mold with eyes I think, in the corner”. Her wincing, “because the hotel has mandatory waivers and doesn’t allow Fenton’s”, then nodding up at him, “yeah my stuff’s fine there, don’t put anything in the drawers, sometimes stuff just vanishes inside for an unknown reason”. Based on him ducking back in immediately, he had in fact put some stuff inside a drawer and the sigh of relief and her dads light hearted laughter tells her that whatever it was was still there. At least some things were going right.

And then it promptly goes horribly wrong as soon as Bassel comes out to go back downstairs with her. A massive black star speckled ghost phasing their way down through the goddamn ceiling, Bassel going stalk stiff while Jazz dashes up the steps with him in her grasp and ducks both of them into the bathroom. Bassel sticking his head out of the bathroom while crouching just like her and whispering, “was that thing a freaking ghost? What the hell, babe”.

Her basically hissing at him, “yes, and a very powerful one”. Bassel grumbling, “I think today hates us”. She whole heartedly agrees.

Meanwhile the ghost is shouting, “PHANTOM! I request your aid!”, and from her and Bassel’s bathroom vantage point it looks like the ghost just got punched in their masked face -based on them being pushed back out of the kitchen entry way with a hand to their face- by Dan, who stomps out snarling, all fang but thankfully still human-looking, “wrong one, you sleepy ass”.

Starry sleep ghost… starry sleep ghost… ah right! Their name was Nocturne right? Her little brother did try to get her to remember the names of the more important ghosts after all. “Nocturne?”.

Oh she shouldn’t have said anything. The ghost looks to her and ‘brightens up’ in that cruel looking way many ghosts do, them promptly stretching and looming their body up and head over her and Bassel, “ah, young Phantom’s brethren. Do you know as to where I can find the one that will not attempt to eat beings of ancient malevolence?”. Bassel is shaking and she’s worried he’s going to pass out.

Dan rams a clawed hand into the ghosts body, “I’m true malevolence, mother fucker. Get back here”.

Thankfully Danny -in his ghost form unfortunately- pops in before Dan can do something stupid, “Dan! Leave the freaking god of sleep alone! Oh my Ancients!”. Him pointing at Nocturne’s face as the ghost moves down to him completely ignoring Jazz and Bassel now, “what the zone, Nocturne? You can’t just bust into my lair core whenever you feel like it just because I don’t get enough damn sleep”.

The ghost holds up a finger, “ah but that is hardly the reason for my arrival, I have seemed to ‘fucked up’, as you would say, to an unfortunate degree”.

Danny sighs and sags his entire body, floating in the air, “ugh, what did you do?”.

“I acquired-”.

Danny interrupting immediately, “You mean stole”.

“I acquired some eternal gardenia from FungalLung, they have now beset my domain with pink dew and blood blossom seeds”.

“Why the actual crap would you steal from that split personality psycho? There’s a reason no one goes near that kids garden”.

“I had a need for such things, as someone-”.

“Oh no, no blame game bullshit outta you, shit ass”.

“Our king needs to be-”.

“Needs to be allowed to have a bit of goddamn fun and some breaks, that’s what he needs. Now play guide, you reckless starry blanket”, Danny eyeing Dan, “Dan. Let. Go”.

Dan flinching and doing as he’s more or less commanded to. Scoffing, crossing his arms, and moving back into the kitchen with a tense, “whatever”.

Bassel wheezes when the ghost and her brother disappear through the floor, Jazz standing up fully and pulling him along with, “great. Just great. Love it. What next? An invasion?”.

Elle hums, “I mean, I could ask mythic grandma if she’s up for one”.

Jazz and Maddie both pointing at her aggressively with matching, “absolutely not”’s. Making the girl giggle. Jazz looking back to Bassel, “I promise you’re okay and not about to get attacked. Are you feeling okay?”.

“I am ten seconds away from wanting to lay on the carpet and scream cry into it, and I am positive I need a shock blanket”.

At least she doesn’t even have to ask her mom to get one for her to rush off and do so, Jazz and Maddie herding him into the spare room wrapped up in a Fenton ghost proof shock blanket in record time. Jazz nodding softly at her moms apologetic look and gesturing for her to leave them be, dad following his wife out with an exaggerated wince.

She shuffles up next to him and rubs his arm from over the blanket, effectively side hugging him, “okay so you’ve properly seen your first ghost, and they were unfortunately one of the non-human ones; but, Nocturne is quite safe actually, more a neutral being than malicious”.

He nods a little.

“They do tend to harass my brother a lot since they care a lot about sleep and he doesn’t get nearly enough of it”, shaking her head and laughing lightly a little, “and yes, what Danny said is true, they are for all accounts and purposes the god of sleep”, sighing, “nearly every god worshiped through out history is real and, yes, a ghost”.

He swallows, pulling the blanket around himself more, “that’s… kind of insane and a lot”.

Jazz nods more so to herself, she had a hard time swallowing that herself as a teen, “I know. I still find it a bit baffling myself and it is extremely strange actually meeting any of them”.

“At… at least you actually seem weirded out. Everything… else doesn’t seem to be, uh, strange, to you”.

“I’m used to it, more than I’d really like to be. I definitely wi- would prefer if my family was more normal, even marginally. And I’d rather my brother not be wrapped up in all this the way he is. Even Dan and Elle often feel that way, even if they wouldn’t exist if he wasn’t involved so heavily in everything”.

“That’s, concerning, actually”.

Jazz pats his arm some, “they haven’t had the best existences”.

Dan then startles her, voice coming through the door, “and there’s the simple fact that everyone would be better off if I never existed”.

Jazz sighing to herself and looking to the door, “Dan that’s not true”.

“And that’s crap and you know it, don’t bullshit me Jazz”; it sounds like he’s stomped off. She’s… going to have to talk to him later.

Bassel shivers, “he’s got a lot of… issues, huh”.

Jazz sighing and nodding, closing her eyes, “if people tell you you’re a monster enough that becomes all that you are and healing becomes nearly impossible”, shaking her head and looking at him, he’s watching her intently, “Elle and Danny are good for him but his emotions don’t work like they’re supposed to because of what happened to him. He’s also partly being pissy because Danny genuinely scolded him. Anyone exerting their power over him tends to rile him up, whether he wants it to or not”.

“Part of him being a, uh, ghost?”.

She nods, “yup. Though I doubt talking about Dan is great for you right now”.

Bassel looks away and stares forwards, “no, probably not”, shaking his head and readjusting into the blanket, “… that, ghost, called your brother a king, didn’t they”.

Jazz shrugs, “he tires not to let it get to his head”.

He shakes himself a little, shaking his head slowly side to side, “yeah no, I’m not pushing. Though is that why he feels like death, the pressure of death at least, when he looks all black and white”.

“I… if he feels like that I’ve never noticed, sorry. But I was living with him when that change happened so it very well might have happened slowly, over time”.

“I guess that makes sense, it almost felt hard to breathe when his voice got… thick? at Dan”.

Jazz blinks, nodding immediately, “ah that’s actually a specific power he has. He mostly just uses it to get across that he’s not playing around, that he’s being serious”.

“Effective”.

Jazz nods slowly, letting him just breathe for a bit. She guesses she can understand how her brother can be a bit much, and it was definitely for the best that Bassel found out before a ghost crashed the party that her brother was a ghost himself. Then he speaks up again, “you’re entirely alive, right? I know you have a lot of spooky rumours that follow you and, like I said, you do look off. So, you’re not a ghost, right?”.

Jazz is tempted to laugh, instead she just shakes her head, “no, not even a little bit”.

“Good. That’s good”.

She just hums, nodding to herself. Waiting for him to work through his own head. Hearing about ghosts and seeing one were very different things, and an Ancient was hard to run into no matter what Danny said. She swears it’s like he forgets that he is in the same sort of classification as them. But at least it seems like Bassel’s handling it better than many do, better than most non-Amity Parkers at least. And then her dad goes and bangs the door open, nearly making Bassel fling himself off of the bed, “I made hot chocolate!”.

“Dad! He’s trying to wind down! Not get the zone scared out of him!”.

Her dad wincing, “ah sorry, Jazzy”, holding up the two cups, “hot chocolate?”, and tilts his head to the side.

Jazz sighs, side eyeing Bassel to make sure he isn’t going to freak out further before getting up and grabbing the cups, “I know you mean well, dad, but you’re still a very loud, very large, presence”.

He rubs his neck and laughs awkwardly, tilting sideways enough to look at Bassel. Giving her boyfriend a thumbs up, “you kids get settled, no funny business”.

“Oh my zone!”, she shoves him out with a foot, barely managing not to spill, and kicks her door shut. At least she manages to give Bassel the hot chocolate gently, “that man, I swear”.

Bassel genuinely laughs though, staring at the hot chocolate in his hands, “that was so utterly normal dad behaviour though, it’s grounding actually”.

Huh. Guess he actually did a good job. “Then I owe him an apology”. She makes her sip on the hot chocolate -that’s already been adequately cooled, thanks dad genuinely- loud, purely to encourage Bassel to drink his.

He notices the cooled temp too, “he waited till it was cool but not too cool, huh?”.

“Yeah. He’s a bit of a fool and reckless but he cares a lot and has a good heart that’s as big as he is”.

Bassel humming and they sit in silence for a bit until, “is your brother going to be okay? I know I called him a superhero and google seems to say he is but…”.

“Oh superhero is very accurate by human standards, but by ghosts he’s basically normal. Behaviour wise at least. Most of the time”, shaking her head, “he’ll be fine, even if it sounds like he might wind up with a case of Blood Blossom poisoning again”.

“Let me guess, ghost poison?”.

“Yup”.

“That’s absurd”, and he sips at his hot chocolate some, “he’s not going to vomit on the floor is he?”.

Okay she can’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head, “no, no, more coughing fits, aches and pains, and muscle spasms. That’s only because he’s alive enough to not be fully affected”.

“Hence why this powerful ghost came for his help?”.

Jazz nodding, “hence why a powerful ghost came for his help”, tilting her head, “though if I remember right pink dew is a psychedelic, so he also might be high when he gets back”.

“Oh god, I don’t think that kid should ever do drugs. Being near your entire family is like being on drugs”, sticking his arms out of the blanket and gesturing the mug around, “if I woke up in the morning and was told this was all one big fever dream, I’d believe it”.

“That’s understandable. Which is why the rest of the world considers this town a hoax”.

“Yeah I was wondering about that”, he downs a considerable amount of his drink, “you’d think the whole world would know about this. But I guess that would cause an uproar”.

Jazz sighing, almost annoyed, “yeah, the government does try to keep a lid on everything”.

“God damn it. Seriously? Ugh. I hate that I called ‘government cover up’ as the why”.

“There’s more to it but the rest is a lot weirder to the point where even I don’t want to think about it. It’s actually in the category of too weird”. Her little brother mind wiping an entire planet after fighting a reality controlling clown that turned roads into rollercoasters and made him fight a fire breathing clown and a lava pit full of rubber ducks, was so many steps past extremely strange.

Bassel full body cringing, “then I definitely don’t want to know. I do want to know if the stories about you communing with ghosts in your dorm are true though, and if your dorms is ‘contaminated’”, looking down at the cup, “and we should thank your dad for this. It was pretty good”.

Jazz blushes a little, “they’re true, even ghosts need therapy and I don’t need my license to give it to them. Sometimes it is just Danny though, and I’m good about keeping on top of decontamination, so don’t worry about that”, then eyeing him, he still seemed a little out of it and shocky but he was definitely better and really there was no normalising or rationalizing her family, “we’ll go down and thank him if you’re alright”.

He nods down at the cup and to himself, then looking at her with a nod and shaking smile, “I’m going to be digesting all of this for days at least, but I’m okay, babe. I absolutely hope today was the weirdest day of this week visit though”.

Jazz hums, standing up and offering him her mug-free hand, “well Dan will avoid Danny for at least a full day and Pandora will keep Elle busy for at least three; so there won’t be their chaos for a little while. As for literal gods showing up, that happens so seldom that I genuinely believe that Johnny’s Shadow might’ve snagged us some bad luck on the way into town”.

“Johnny’s Shadow?”.

Oh maybe she shouldn’t have brought that guy up. Wincing, “um, Shadow is basically Johnny’s pet or familiar? And Johnny is a ghost I may have dated? Once? He wasn’t genuine about it, and I was a dumb teenager who feel for his stupid motorbike and bad boy vibes”.

He actually snickers at her, before laughing fully and having to put the mug to the side to avoid spilling it, “I! Can not believe how stereotypical! That is!”, shaking his head and wheezing, eyeing her, “straight laced, honor role daughter falls for a motorcycle riding bad boy who’s all charm and bad intentions”.

She smacks his arm, “don’t be mean”, she doesn’t mean it at all though, “and Danny actually dated his girlfriend, she was trying to make Johnny jealous”.

“So what I’m getting here is ghosts are seriously just goddamn people, some are just very extra”.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah. Or they’re more like animals”.

Bassel blinks as they shuffle out of the room, “oh thats right, the green dog, where’d he? go?”.

Jazz snorts, “Danny sent him back to, well, the other side as it were; since mom was trying to taser him”. He was always so protective of that dog, even if said dog caused so many issues.

“That did seem a bit excessive”.

“Oh absolutely not, that dog is an actual menace”.

“I’m just going to take your word for it”.

They pop into the kitchen, she’s not surprised both Dan and Elle are gone. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, dad”. Bassel nodding, “yeah, it was really good, thank you”.

Her dad gives a goofy thumbs up, “glad you liked it!”. And she thinks everything might just be okay.

Bassel’s not really sure what to do about all of this. What he does know is that he’s better off not thinking about it and not trying to actually figure out what to do about all of this. He knows Jack Fenton cares a lot, makes good hot chocolate, he’s loud and big, and sure he’s a little off and too strong but he actually is like a puppy. Maddie Fenton was a lot softer, a lot more aware that her family was odd, more socially adept, but she was also more threatening and quick to fight; strange and off as well but she came off as more normal than her husband. Danny was… a nightmare, full stop, he’s a little worried what kind of friends the teen had that could put up with him. He was borderline actually insane, but from what Bassel saw on his google trip he also was a genuinely good kid. Bassel’s fairly certain that even if the world turned against him he’d still fight to save it; that took a level of sheer determination and heart that Bassel probably didn’t have himself. Elle was just a weird kid with too lax and strange of a parent, she might stand a chance at being almost normal someday. Maybe. Dan was an utter psycho though, he honestly can not think of a redeeming quality for that one. Doesn’t even want to try. Because excusing a murderer was not a line he feels like toeing. Jazz says Dan wouldn’t hurt any of them and does love them, but he’s not sold on that; it seemed more likely that she just didn't want to admit that the man was simply an awful unkind corrupt person.

And Jazz?

Well, his opinion honestly hasn’t changed. She’s still awesome, beautiful, caring, neurotic, a worrier, and slightly strange. He wants to think she’d be the same, though maybe less strange, even if she had a perfectly normal and average family. He wasn’t about to let odd family break them up, even if it was the kind of odd normally reserved for tv shows and the weird comics you find at truck stops that are filled with plot holes and questionable narrative direction. Either way he’s sticking around, so long as he can actually physically survive a week in this place.

Him watching as Danny, covered in some kind of clear goo or slime, kicks open the lab door with blown out pupils and a gnarly rash on half his face. “I! Never want to see! Another! Fucking! Person with me damn mushroom eyes again! I feel! Disgusting! Bleh!”, sticks out his tongue and then faceplants onto the floor groaning; the slime stuff splatters around a bit.

Bassel blinks, “um, should someone drag him up to the bathroom or something?”. Then the kid sprouts another set of goddamn arms and hands out of his back and proceeds to dragging himself across the floor and up the stairs with them. “Never mind, what the hell. I never want to see that again”.

Jazz sighs, rinsing out their cups, “he’s definitely high, don’t touch the goo trail”, moving to get the biohazards mop and bucket, “Danny can be a bit of a jerk with the body horror stuff but he usually reserves it for people he knows can handle it”.

“That’s… good. Dear god”.

And then… Danny??? runs up the lab stairs, “did anyone see a body of mine”.

Jazz throws the mop at him and yelps, “what the Zone! Danny?”, making faces at him and pointing at the stairs that still has a slime trial on it, “I have some serious questions”.

He blinks at her, “rogue duplicate”, and runs towards the stairs.

Jazz throws up her hands, “why would you use a power you suck at to deal with drug flowers!”.

“Because I didn’t want to personally deal with blood blossoms!”, the kid slips on the slime and smashes his face into the stairs, “fuck!”, then scramble crawls up the steps.

Bassel grabs the mop back up, ignores that it’s a weirdly hot pink colour, and hands it off to his girlfriend, “so that was a thing that happened”.

Jack starts wheeze laughing, sitting down at the kitchen table, “I hope his duplicate at least had fun!”.

Maddie grinning at the man, “I’m sure it did, Jack hon”.

Everyone, including Bassel, ignores the strange thumping going on upstairs as well as the… arm that comes hurling down the steps and dissolves into green goo against a wall. Staying here was going to give him some extremely unique and unfortunate nightmares, wasn’t it? At least now he gets why his girlfriend had such an easy time writing behavioural papers, she had multiple subject studies. He might even be able to bang out a paper or two on human adaptability after this. He absolutely was not doing any papers on people growing arms out of their backs though, that would get him sent on a grippy sock vacation.

Danny pops back in looking disgusted, “it’s dealt with”.

Maddie eyeing him cautiously, “is the hall way intact?”.

The boy sags and gives a truly crushed, “no”.

At this point, Bassel thinks that’s frankly expected. He also thinks that this household is cursed. At least Jack bounds up the stairs to start fixing the hallway and Bassel legitimately doesn’t care to check out the damage. Truly. Instead he’s just going to sit down with his girlfriend and, like her, mildly regret him coming and going into this ‘cold turkey’. Next time she warns him about something, he’s going to demand an explanation instead of brushing her worries off.

End.

Promtps: Jazz brings a date home for the first time. She didn’t exactly brief them on her family’s whole ghost thing. Antics ensue. All the Fentons are a bit more ghostly than they know The Phantom Clan (Dan, Dani, and Danny) is awake and about to make it everyone's problem Jazz has a reputation at college for being spooky, it doesn't help that she communes with ghosts. Uncanny valley is strong with Danny, most Amity Parkers don't realize it, but any time anyone from out of town sees him, they're in for a spook. Nocturne fucked up BIG TIME and now needs help from the ghost kid.

[callmearcturus]

⌚ 🙏🏻🥺

"Hang on," Grace said, "I'm thinking. Hang on. So. You barely even *liked* me, and you saved me from that rat bastard Gabriel, pulled me out of a wrecked car, played human shield to protect me from that lunatic French girl, drove us around while handcuffed, then I almost let a train hit you and you still, you know. Saved me and all that sappy shit, all while you barely even liked me--" "I liked you well enough," Ethan said. "Uh-huh, sure." She points to Benji. "So what would you do for him?"

lmao okay okay this was one punct and i were kicking around that got surprisingly far but now this version needs a full rewrite bc we actually want to make the cast of characters line up with what the Final Reckoning trailer revealed would be Team The Best Team. so this is the old version with luther and grace.

the concept is that Ethan and Benji have a massive expository row because the team just had a chance at Gabriel and Ethan fucked it to go save Benji (even though Grace was Right There and ready to assist, she is badly stung by this) and it spirals into this back and forth with flashbacks and competing interpretation of event between Ethan and Benji while Grace basically is eating popcorn

also we really wanted to harness the simmering, barely suppressed anger that Ethan has through all of Dead Reckoning. rereading it all, it's really good. we're gonna have to figure out a grace-paris-degas redux but @interropunct bro i just reread the document and it's SO fun, ethan and benji are both SO FUCKING MEAN in this fic

anyway, here is a large chunk bc a lot is gonna be rewritten. won't provide any more excerpts of this fic bc this is a chunky chunk:

Sitting on the edge of the table, Grace actually pressed her fingers to her cheeks, reflecting and magnifying Benji. "Oh, that's precious. And so long ago! How long, exactly? Wait, and you've been--" Dropping the cute expression quickly, she made a gesture with her fingers, suggestive, "-- since all the way back in the stone age?"

"You're not that much younger than us," Luther chided her. He was sitting in one of the less rickety chairs, pointedly listening without looking at either Ethan or Benji. That meant he was really thinking about this, taking it in as new information.

Luther did not need even more information about Ethan. If there was an upper threshold for knowing a person, Luther had hit that for Ethan back in the early 2000s.

"You don't know my age, don't pretend like you do," Grace shot back. "I've worked very hard to ensure that." She pointed at Benji. "Go on, about the shagging?"

Benji, unaware of Ethan's new paranoia, seemed happy enough to oblige. "We--ell, no, not precisely? We had a few run-ins around the IMF HQ."

"We have an HQ?" Grace asked, pouting. "I thought it was this big decentralized thing."

"Oh, now it is, yes. Thank god for that, the old headquarters were this nightmare of glass walls everywhere you went. The least clandestine building you could imagine for an intelligence group." He flapped a hand through the air dismissively. "Trying to get a lick of privacy there was impossible, so eventually I started meeting Ethan back at my place... a couple of times?"

Unable to strangle the thing in him that had to be accurate with numbers at all times, Ethan supplied, "It was three times. At least, that year we... it was thrice, before the other times."

Luther barely moved at all, but suddenly his eyes were fixed on Ethan.

Discretion was the better part of valor; Ethan looked away, scuffing the toe of his boots against the dusty floor, examining the shape of his footprints.

"Sure, thrice, sounds about right," Benji agreed. "It was just some fooling around before he met... someone." He moved his shoulders in a carefully smooth, casual shrug. "And that was about as serious as cardiac arrest, so that put an end to it. Amicably, of course, I wasn't under any, you know." Another shrug, this one the exact same movement, a scripted motion Benji forgot to space out. "Misconceptions."

The back of Ethan's teeth twinged. He made himself unclench his jaw, wondering if Benji's bullshit was as obvious to everyone or if Ethan had just become an unwilling scholar in all of the tics and tactics of Benji Dunn.

He didn't get to gauge that because Grace was looking at him now, her brow furrowed like she was mentally recasting him as a younger man. "Hm. Well, fair enough, you may be onto something here. I mean, if it was just a bit of rough fun back twenty-thirty-whatever years ago a handful of times. That shouldn't still be a factor unless one or both of you are super weird about it."

Benji and Ethan looked at each other simultaneously, like the slack in a rope suddenly pulling out and slamming their gazes into each other.

Benji had the decency to look abashed, his teeth pressing down on his lower lip.

When he didn't answer Grace's implicit question, Ethan crossed the room to stand by her, dragging Benji's gaze with him. Popping one hip up, Ethan rested his weight on the table next to her and folded his arms.

Benji pursed his lips. Ethan lifted his eyebrows.

Grace, watching this exchanged, grinned and looked back at Benji.

The color in Benji's face darkened, his neck flushing, his ears going pink. "I-- I didn't say that, I mean, he-- we-- there was the time after he got out of prison."

"Which one?" Ethan asked innocently.

Benji glared back at him. "You know which one."

===

It's pure coincidence that Benji's the one who gets the call. He's rarely been back in the States since passing his field exam, which he's been told is normal for IMF agents. The organization might be technically American, but sometimes that's easy to forget. There's a lot less jingoistic ooh-rah attitude than Benji's experienced when he's been to Quantico and god forbid fucking Langley. It suits him well enough as a former Briton since he's never been able to work up a sense of patriotism for either of his homelands.

Point being: it's luck that he's the one who gets the call. With more than a little banked amusement, Benji steals the first car he sees that looks like it's more than a V6 and races across the desert at speeds that would conservatively get him fined an imperial fuckton of money but more likely would get him arrested.

Benji has known for most of his life that it's only illegal if they can catch you.

An hour and change of fast but uneventful driving later, Benji's phone pings, informing him he's approaching the extraction point. Taking his foot off the gas, the car has plenty of momentum to coast the rest of the way there.

'There' is a spot in the middle of nowhere on US-95 under a spotless blue sky. Pulled off to the side of the road is a rust-red Camaro with the hood propped open. It's late enough in the day that the asphalt ripples like river water, but the sun has at least fallen enough to cast a shadow.

Sitting in the narrow shadow of the car with his arms draped over his knees and his shirt draped over his head and shoulders, is one Ethan Hunt. As Benji closes in, he can see the subtle shift of Ethan's head as he tilts it just enough to look over and examine the approaching vehicle.

Something must give Benji away, because before he's got the car in park, Ethan springs up, shaking his head to knock the shirt off. He strolls out into the road enough for Benji to glide to a stop next to him.

Rolling the window down, Benji is granted a shockingly unguarded look as the blast of air conditioning rushes out the window and ruffles through Ethan's hair. With a sigh of vivid relief, Ethan leans his arms on the car, soaking in the cool artificial breeze.

Leaning into an expensive car window in a singlet and a pair of dark blue jeans, he strikes a very specific image, and Benji can't help himself. "Going my way, doll?"

Ethan smiles, quick and bright, but the second he spots the bottles of water in the cup holders, he reaches out a hand in silent by clear demand. Passing one over, Benji watches Ethan crack the seal on the cap and proceed to knock back two-thirds of the water, his throat working swallow after swallow with mechanical efficiency.

The last third he pours over his own head, dousing his hair and skin with a sigh. "Okay. Thank you."

Putting the car into park, Benji slides out. "What the hell did you do, run out of fuel in the middle of the desert?"

"Mechanical failure," Ethan says, beckoning as he walks over to the popped hood. The back of his hand rubs the rivulets of water from his face, leaving dark smudges behind. The dampness makes the tips of his hair curl, the length notably shorter than when they were in Russia-then-Dubai-then-Mumbai.

The sun is still brutal. Sliding his light jacket off, Benji holds it up, blocking the light a bit and shading Ethan. With his shoulders and neck exposed like that, Ethan's lucky he's not already burnt like a slice of white bread left in the toaster.

Ethan glances over at Benji, eyebrows lifted. "What?" Benji said. "I don't know anything about cars."

"Really?"

"I know how to disable any tracking on a vehicle, how to hotwire the ignition, how to parallel park, and how to crack the remote start encryption. Anything beyond that, forget it."

That earns him a grin, the dark streak curving with Ethan's skin. "Well, one of the coolant hoses cracked. Ergo, engine can't keep cool. And it's a bit hot out here."

"Ah, right, and the CPU just automatically shuts down when you get over 70 degrees."

"Sure," Ethan says with a little laugh.

"Your car?"

"No. Arranged ride courtesy of the IMF. Yours?"

"Probably better than yours. I made sure to lift it out of the parking garage of an upscale office park."

His smile curves into a smirk. "Clearly you do know a bit about cars." Bracing himself on the lip of the lifted hood, Ethan's eyes settle on Benji's and hold.

Abruptly, Benji has a full-body memory hit him. Another year but the same smirk and the same open, honest eyes. And Ethan has not gotten less attractive since their first meeting.

No, if anything, Benji wants him more. It'd be a problem if not for the way Ethan's practically beaming the query into Benji's skull.

It strikes him like a premonition coalescing out of the heat mirage: Benji gets the feeling he's losing his footing here, that he's going to have a hard time saying no to this man.

He clears his throat, dry in the lingering heat of the fading day. "So, you going to let me drive for once?"

Ethan makes a show about thinking about it, his arm dropping back to his side, back into the shelter of Benji's jacket. "I might. You seem to have a handle here, Agent Dunn."

===

"God," Grace said from where she's laid on her back across the table, her jacket folded up under her head, her fingers laced across her belly. "What a line. You put me in 38 degree heat and I couldn't be seductive if my life depended on it." She turned her head to look at Ethan as he continued to sulk against windowsill. The backlit of the city lights were kind enough to obscure his sour expression. "You're a rare operator."

Benji huffed out a laugh as he focused on draining his teabag against his spoon, tossing the sachet into the trash with a nimble flick of his fingers. "The best in the business. I still see that lean and the black smear in my dreams sometimes." With a loud, dramatic sigh, he shook his head. "So we... got on again. Either because I'm weak or Ethan's that good. Half dozen one, six of the other."

The line of Ethan's shoulders drew tight as a bow. "I was on that roadside for three hours and you had the A/C at full blast. I would have done anything to get in that car."

Twisting at the hips, Benji cast a look back at the surly silhouette. "Hm? So if it'd been, say, Brandt who was showing up, you would have still been all slinky with the bedroom eyes?"

Grace only knew William Brandt by reputation, and the way Ethan instantly frowned was another piece of information to add to the collage. "Brandt?"

"In this hypothetical alternate reality," Luther said slowly with a deep hum of amusement, "is Brandt the kind of person who would bother showing up? He'd just delegate that shit out. He'd invent some new requisition form, fill it out in triplicate, and file it with the appropriate authorities before he'd drive out into the desert like that."

"Brandt's a good man," Ethan told Grace seriously. "He just... expresses his concern in very specific ways."

"I would bet every black money paycheck I have ever gotten that he's never gotten off in the backseat of a car," Benji added helpfully.

Getting an elbow under herself, Grace pushed herself up to sitting. "Okay, wait. Shagging in the backseat is already a precarious proposition for anyone over the age of twenty-five in my humble opinion." Benji and Luther both nodded in tacit agreement; Ethan had reverted to his stoic fuming. "But you two did this in the middle of the road in broad daylight after one of you had been in the sun and dirt for hours?" She let out a low, impressed whistle. "That is interesting, now that I think about it."

Ethan's tone of voice had that very particular quality to it that Grace had learned meant he was trying to unclench his jaw and mostly failing. "Interesting how."

She kept her eyes on Benji, who was a much softer target than the alternative. "I am missing an important piece of information that I definitely need to understand the situation." She pressed her palms together. "Was-slash-is the sex good?"

Head snapping up, Ethan was completely back in the conversation. "Grace!"

"It's vital intelligence!" she told him earnestly.

"That isn't relevant!"

"Mhm, dunno, I think it is," Luther offered up with a remarkably straight face. "The parameters change pretty dramatically. If the sex isn't good versus if it is good, that one variable alters the way we interpret the information. The motives at play become significantly different."

Folding his arms tightly over his chest, Ethan narrowed his eyes at Luther. "This isn't an op sec debrief, you don't need to interpret--"

"It was nice," Benji said simply.

Grace lifted her eyebrows at him. "How nice?"

"When you're going to shag in the backseat of a stolen car in the middle of the desert, it's, you know." He shrugged one shoulder. "Good."

===

It's hard to tell in the overbright light of the sun, but the moment Benji gets Ethan into the car, stretched out across the backseat, the shade reveals that Ethan's skin is almost glittering, the sheen of road dust and sweat and bottled water coating him like a coating of sugar or salt.

Salt, Benji discovers with his mouth, and earth. It should not be as hot as it is, but then again, everything is hot by definition right now, it's bloody US-95.

"Close that door," Ethan pants, getting a grip on the seat enough to pull himself further into the car.

"You're not that short," Benji says.

A fast roll of Ethan's eyes escapes him before he reaches up over his head, grabbing the handle of the other door and shoving it open, the beautiful flat line of the desert behind him. "Come on, Benji, logistics."

Well, Benji was good at logistics.

With the door behind them shut, giving them a laughably small amount of protection from the road (and giving any passing drivers a laughably small amount of protection from them), Benji gets his hands on all that skin, running his hands up under Ethan's shirt, his palms pressed firmly. Without further prompt, Ethan tears his shirt up; it escapes his grasp and flutters out the open door. "Shit," Ethan says quietly, almost tilting his head to look.

Gripping Ethan by the belt, Benji drags him down, getting his mouth on the tender skin under the hinge of his jaw, tongue pressing hard enough to feel the pulse there. Shirt forgotten, Ethan cups the back of Benji's head. It'd be tender, but he drags Benji even closer, making a thin noise as Benji's teeth press to his neck.

To hell with logistics, there was nothing thought-out about it, every coherent thought melting out of Benji's skull. There's no way to get more naked without some contortionist-level maneuvering, so Benji doesn't bother, instead just gets things unbuckled, unzipped, opened.

The last time they'd done this, it had been different. Benji hoped Ethan didn't notice, worked to get his hand on Ethan's cock so he wouldn't think about their dalliances back in DC. This wasn't discrete blowjobs and making out in the stairwell with an easy smile and whispered jokes.

Don't think about it, Benji begged silently. If Ethan did and asked Benji why, he did not have an answered prepared. And the truth would probably not go down well.

Fortunately, Ethan just got his foot braced on the frame of the door, legs spread wide as Benji squeeze his dick. "Benji, yesss," he said in a hushed voice, sibilant and needy, "don't stop, don't--" A hand flung out to grip the storage pocket behind the passenger seat, holding on as his head tipped over the edge, dropping back to gasp at the desert beyond.

Anything Benji said would have been much too dangerous, so he focused on tasting the dust and salt, muffling himself as Ethan's body tensed under him, ignoring the heavy thud of want want want filling his thoughts.

===

"Nice?" Grace prompted, hands curled around the edge of her seat, tucked between her thighs, a perfect coquettish image she was aiming at Benji like a laser sight. "Or good? Or..." She trailed off meaningfully.

Not for the first time, Ethan felt a sense of relief that Benji was so consistently unattracted to women, he was immune to Grace's sharply honed maneuvers. Half of her repertoire just didn't play with him, thank god.

Instead of noticing Grace's entreating stare, Benji was examining his fingernails, idly breaking off a chipped bit as he very deliberately didn't look Ethan's way. His awareness was a constant weight, though; as Ethan continued to pace, one of his steps brought him six inches closer to the center of the room, and Benji-- did not look, but reacted, a millisecond of extra time between his breaths before he went on. "I'm not sure what to say. I mean, these things are sort of subjective, I think?"

"Oh, certainly," she agreed. "And what's your subjective opinion?" Her eyes flicked to Ethan, then back to Benji. "Scale of one to ten?"

"Aces high or low?" Luther added.

For a moment, the threat feels real, that he'll have to stand here and listen to a Critical Analysis of Sex with Ethan Hunt. Before he just decides to escape out the damn window, there's a crack in his veneer, Benji's head twisted quickly to Ethan, just enough to flash a grimace that Ethan thoroughly agreed with.

The alternative was almost worse. "The quality of any given sexual encounter isn't the issue here," Benji said, voice flattening. "Hell, the fact that we did have sex isn't even on trial here. The actual issue is that he," and here, he managed to nod his head in Ethan's direction without actually looking at him at all, "has been pulling this shit since London. The sex is-- is incidental!"

"London," Grace echoed.

London. Ethan's fingertips dug into his arms as his pacing slowed and he came to a stop.

The wooden chair creaked as Luther got up, shaking his head as he walked over to the very narrow kitchenette they'd set up. (If a portable induction top on a minifridge counted as a kitchenette.) "London," he said. Pulling the fridge open, he extracted a bottle of water, two beers. "Benji, drink?"

"Just flip the kettle back on," Benji sighed.

Distributing the water to Ethan and one of the beers to Grace, Luther used the edge of the table to pop the top off his own bottle. "Long time ago, a different crazy mass-murdering terrorist abducted Benji to try to force Ethan's hand."

"'Tried' successfully," Ethan pointed out bitterly.

"He fitted me for a lovely new semtex vest," Benji said. "Accessorized with enough shrapnel to kill everyone in the vicinity. All for access to a redbox that Ethan was able to get ahold of."

"Oh," Grace said, her bright amusement from the entire situation dimming. "Well, shit."

"It worked out," Luther said. "Ethan got Benji out of there and we managed to incapacitate Lane, put an end to his organization."

Ethan opened his mouth to correct that rosy version of the downfall of the Syndicate, wanting to mention the months of additional work tracking down the remnants, the splinter cells, the Apostles and Lark and Kashmir.

The hurt radiated from Benji as he went on. "Oh yes, the whole thing went swimmingly. What Luther is kindly leaving out is the bit where the reason the whole mission went to shit was me. But don't worry, Ethan hasn't forgotten."

"What," Ethan said slowly, stalking forward and purposefully putting himself in Benji's line of sight, "are you talking about?"

"After Cobalt, I actually thought you took me seriously. Hell, you barely let me work with other teams--"

"Because we work well together. Wait, are you upset that I..." He'd never considered that Benji was resentful about being Ethan's first-pick for 90 percent of team compositions, Benji had never indicated anything but quiet surprise when it started, and the way that melted into tacit understand, the mutual understanding that Ethan wanting Benji on his team was a foregone conclusion, Ethan thought they both understood.

"--maybe once that was because you," Benji shook his head once, hard. "But after our romantic candlelit bomb-filled evening, something changed. You never trusted me as an agent again, trusted me to understand the parameters of this horrible fucking job. Not with Lane back then, and not now with Gabriel."

"Okay, let's have a breath here," Grace said suddenly, which was good because Ethan was not sure what words were about to come out of his own mouth beyond what are you fucking talking about and her voice was like a pin popping the bubble both of them were alone in. "Benji, that's a lot of, ah."

"Olympic leaps of logic?" Ethan offered.

"Shit you should have hashed out on a therapy couch?" Luther added.

"Lived and frequently replicated life experiences," Benji said, mouth twisted in anger. "Don't act like this didn't start the next day after I was abducted."

[silver138]

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 26

word count - 2.2k warnings - gun and gunshot wound (hypothetical) mentioned Summary: The team wraps up the case, and Lina gets an offer.

Once we're back at the office, I finally start to relax a little, shaking a little as the adrenaline wears off. When we head in to brief the rest of the team, Hotch asks, "Give us a quick rundown of what happened, and then you can start on the paperwork."

Spencer starts by describing the interview of Ms. Sadler, from the reasoning behind the details of the crime scene, on through to her eyewitness account of the unsub and her actions. As he gets to us splitting up to interview Ms. Waters and coming across the unsub by gunpoint, Hotch's face gets unreadably stonier. After Spencer finishes up from our point of view, everyone's attention goes to Derek for his portion.

Explaining that the duffle bag was effectively a decoy, and after he and the rest of the police there headed towards where Spencer and I were, he related everything that happened from his perspective.

"And just as the unsub raises her gun, I aimed a shot at her arm, causing her to drop her weapon. I don't think Aschebrooke realized I was the one that fired a weapon, though, because she then dove at Reid to get him down and out of range of any gunfire," he says, a smirk becoming visible as he finishes.

Hotch looks over at me and says, "So, a weapon is aimed, and you assume fired at, your partner in the field, and your first thought is to minimize the chance of either of you getting a gunshot wound, am I correct?"

I nervously look from Hotch to Penny, back to Hotch, then say, "Um...yes? I mean, I know I could have probably tried to knock the unsub down but, uh, I kind of figured that would have easily backfired. I thought that making sure Dr. Reid didn't get shot meant a better chance of the unsub being subdued, as he wouldn't be slowed down by an injury."

Hotch flicks his gaze from me to Spencer, to Derek, to Penny, then back to me before looking over at Gideon and saying, "You all can go ahead and get a start on paperwork." They then walk off to his office, talking to Gideon along the way.

"Nice going, Supergirl," Elle says as she walks past on the way to her desk, and I smile and flush, walking back with Penny to start our parts of the report.

"You jumped in front of gunfire?!" Penny whisper-shouted as we got settled in the computer room. 

"I-" I start, but am quickly interrupted by a knock on the door. 

"Garcia, if I could speak with you for a few moments..." Hotch says, then looks at me and gives me a nod and a neutral facial expression.

"Sir?" Penny starts, and begins to follow Hotch out of the room, then turns and gives me an incredulous look, then scurries after Hotch.

I get to work on my file, trying to be as detailed as possible, and about halfway through, Penny comes back in and Hotch says, "Aschebrooke, if I could see you in my office, please?"

I gulp and nod, quickly saving my progress, then hurry to follow Hotch. Worried thoughts race through my mind, and all I can think of is that my internship will be cut short due to recklessness, or attempting to do something I'm not supposed to do.

Once inside, he indicates for me to sit down, and he closes the door and goes around to sit at his desk. I immediately launch into an apology. "Sir, I'm sorry, I know I wasn't authorized to do, well, probably any of what I've done on this case, save for the computer work, and I completely understand if you want to terminate my internship, but-"

Hotch raises a hand for me to stop, a small half-smile on his face. "I'm not terminating your internship, Aschebrooke. And you aren't in trouble," he says.

"Oh." I breathe out and try to relax.

"In fact, I was hoping that you could join us full-time, assisting Garcia with the tech work. While she is our resident computer specialist, it's obvious that you have some skills that would benefit this team as well, and I would be remiss if I didn't offer you a place to work alongside the rest of us," he says matter-of-factly.

Surprised, I haltingly ask, "You want me to be an additional tech analyst?"

He nods and says, "Or an agent, if you'd like. You seem to have what it takes, you've already shown you can keep a cool head under pressure."

I try to speak, but nothing comes out when I open my mouth, so I take a breath and smile at Hotch, then say, "I would absolutely love to join as a tech analyst. Um, I might have to think about the 'agent' part, but, uh, I don't want to rule that out quite yet, if that's ok."

"Either way, we're glad to have you on the team long-term," Hotch says, standing up and opening the door. "I can have the paperwork drawn up and ready within a week, if you'd prefer a permanent spot sooner."

"I-yeah, sir, yes, that would be wonderful!" I say as I leave his office to head back to Penny.

As I walk back into the room, I let out a subdued squeal and say to Penelope, "Pen! I can help you permanently! Hotch just offered me a job as an additional tech analyst!"

She gets up and hugs me, smiling broadly, then sits back down and says, "That's awesome! Now, you jumped in front of a gun?!"

Grinning, I sat down and explained my thought process. "Well, I tried to appeal to Daph-the unsub as a fellow bullied kid, but when that didn't work and I saw she was getting ready to shoot Spencer, I had to get him out of harm's way. I figured he'd have a better chance of stopping her than I would, and he'd have a difficult time doing that if he had been shot."

She looks at me, her head tilted, mouth bunched up, and giving me a side-eye, then sighs and says, "Yeah, that's...pretty sound logic, actually. Just...I hope you never do that again."

I give her a small grin and turn back to continue on my paperwork, softly saying, "Well, I might not be able to guarantee that if I take Hotch up on the offer to be an agent as well..."

I hear the chair wheels squeak as she comes up beside me and stares at me. "What?" I say, shrugging and going back to my report.

"I don't think I could be a full-time agent. I wouldn't mind doing it every once in a while, I'd much rather help from here for the most part. But if there's a chance I could be helpful in the field sometimes? Yeah, I could do that." I say, and Penny nods, then wheels back over to do her work.

Finishing up and saving my report, I then stretch in my seat, leaning back and looking at the clock as Spencer appears in the doorway. I grin and say, "Uh, hey, Pen, I'm gonna take my lunch, ok? I've finished up my part, it's already saved. If any folders come in for us to type up, I'll get to it as soon as I get back."

She looks up and gives me a quick salute with two fingers, acknowledging what I've said. I grab my purse and say to Spencer, "Ready, Doc?" getting a nod from him.

Walking towards the cafeteria, Spencer asks, "So, how did your conversation with Hotch go?"

I look at him dumbfounded for a moment, then ask, "How did you know he talked to me in his office?"

He says, "I mean, we can see it pretty clearly from our desks..."

I let out a very small, "Oh," which garners a chuckle from the man. "Um, he...he...offered me a job," I said finally.

He gives me a small smile, and asks, "So, what did you say?"

"I said I'd be happy to join, of course. He also offered the option to be an agent, but I'm not so sure about that one." I said as we got in the cafeteria line.

His smile growing wider, he puts some things on his tray and says, "I mean, you were pretty calm with a gun unexpectedly in your face. And I know you'd have your fellow agents' backs. It might be something to think about."

I bite my lip and look down as we make our way to the cashier, and pay for our lunches. I stay silent until we sit down. I finally look up at Spencer and say, "I don't know. I'm good with being on the team as a tech for now."

Spencer nods and says, "That's fair. And I know Garcia has enjoyed working with you these past few weeks. And I think it's safe to say that the rest of us have, as well."

I smile at Spencer, grateful for his kind words. We continue our lunch, talking about the books we've read lately, while laughing and joking. When we finish, we head back in our respective directions, and he asks, "See you for the ride home?"

I grin and say, "You know it, Doc." 

Walking back in to continue working, I see two folders on the desk next to my computer. Penny spins in her chair to look at me and says with a grin, "So, I guess this officially makes us a crime-fighting duo. Are we Batman and Robin?"

I smile back at her as I get situated, and say, "Honestly, I think this is more of an X-Men kind of deal than Batman and Robin. Or maybe Justice League, but I gotta admit, I'm more of a Marvel girl, so I'm not entirely sure about the last one."

Earning a giggle from Penny, we get to transcribing the folders we have. After maybe an hour, Derek comes in and drops off a couple more, and it isn't long before Penny and I are finished working and we start packing up.

"I hope we have an actual day off before coming back in on Monday," Penny says with a small sigh.

I hum in agreement as we make our way to the elevators, Derek and Spencer not far behind us. After a bit of small talk on the ride down, Spencer and I break off and start heading to the front doors, and I wave and say, "See you guys Monday!"

"Hopefully," Spencer mutters under his breath, and I can't help but laugh.

"You weren't kidding when you said you get called in a lot with this job," I say as we walk towards the station.

"Yeah, not much chance for an active social life, I'm afraid," he says, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Ah, well, good thing I don't have one," I say with a giggle, which draws a smile from Spencer.

He sighs and says, "Yeah, can't really say I have much of one, either."

I laugh again and say, "You know what? I think I've gone out more since my internship started than the entire time I've been in college."

Spencer's eyebrows raise and he asks, "What, you've been more social these past few weeks than the previous 4 years?"

"Probably for close to all of my college years, actually. I didn't do karaoke all that often, quite honestly. And the last time I went to a bar was for my 21st birthday, and Val had to drag me out!" I say.

With a small grin, Spencer says, "Well, if there's one thing the team enjoys doing after finishing a case, it's heading out to let off some steam."

"I know you said that you guys play cards sometimes, do ever play board games?" I ask as we sit down to wait for the Metro.

"Sometimes," Spencer says, a playful grin on his face as he continues. "Trivial Pursuit got banned from being played shortly after I started, though."

I giggle and say, "Gee, I wonder why!" which makes Spencer give a small laugh as well.

Still chuckling, we board the vehicle and sit down. As the Metro rolls along, we chat about what we hope to do on our day off. It isn't too much later that my stop comes into view, so I signal to get off, then turn back and smile at Spencer and say, "I'll see you Monday, Doc."

He returns my smile and says, "See you Monday, Lina." I step off the Metro and head home, still smiling. 

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Story masterlist

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Stonybrook Community College - TWST

Just some worldbuilding stuff and. uh even more OCs. I've got my other ones here and here.

Stonybrook is a picturesque part of the Sunshine Lands, known for it's gentle rolling hills, babbling brooks, and shockingly clear night skies. Because of how clear the night skies are, the belief of wishing upon a star was an integral part of the community. Nowadays, light pollution makes it difficult, but the North star is still always visible when there are no clouds around, at least in the suburbs of the city.

Anyways, Stonybrook Community College is meant to be an opportunity for locals to attend post-secondary schooling without travelling as far or paying as much as they may have had to in order to attend other schools. (Or did not receive an invitation to NRC/RSA/NBC)

So I got my Toy Story OCs

Cody Whitner - Twisted from Woody

One of the teacher's sons

Complete asshole to his half brother

An asshole in general, but he can be charming when he wants to...you just have to tolerate the asshole part long enough

Makes up for what he lacks in academic smarts with manipulation and emotional intelligence. (Yes, he uses his intelligence for typically malicious reasons but it doesn't mean he's not intelligent)

Brett Lancaster - Twisted from Buzz Lightyear (loosely)

Cody's half-brother (doesn't really care for Cody)

Total nerd, genius IQ but also kind of gullible

Best friends with Idia online, goes by the name 'space_rangerTIAB'

Also friends with Cody's crush, which. is a source of tension between the half-brothers

Nobody at the school knows they're half-brothers except Cody's dad

Wheel-chair user + amputee - Idia helps him develop blueprints to make a 3D printed prosthetic leg as well as some funds to make sure he can customize it how he wants

Tyrell Roe - Twisted from Rex

He is baby, ok, please be nice to him

1/4 fae and proud, his grandpa is based on an actual T. Rex (yes I think that the really old fae should be based on dinosaurs so that the Draconias can be the THE Draconias, like they're the only ones based on a dragon, but that's an HC)

He get's anxious easily, his sweater is absolutely his comfort item

He is constantly inviting friends to his place and his mom is the sweetest person alive

He wants to get into engineering soo bad

He customized spoke guards for Brett's wheelchair/generally very artistic

The Betson Twins - Twisted from the Benson Brothers (Alec and Xander respectively bc their birth parents were only expecting one child so when they had a Bonus one they just split the OG name in half skfhlskdjfhlksjdf (AKA I could NOT think of a name for the second one and Xander fits fine))

Grew up in the foster care system, but adopted when they were 12

FIERCELY protective of their (adoptive) little sister (totally not a partial response to PTSD whaaaat)

Both come off as fairly intimidating, but as you get to know them. Alec is not. Xander can, but he's intense/passionate

Alec has dyslexia, when they were younger Xander would always read things out loud for him

Xander has high-functioning autism, please ask him about computer sciences or Norse mythology he wants to infodump so bad

Alec wears contact lenses, Xander can't stand the feeling of them

Elle Betson - Twisted from Gabby Gabby

Also raised in the foster system, adopted when she was 14, her brothers were 16

Selectively mute, but at home she's a little chatty patty

Steals Xander's jackets alllllll the time they are big and comfy and comforting

Can handle herself in a fight. Will never have to.

Wants to become a veterinarian eventually

Very artistic

She and Alec have a lot of friendly spats in the comfort of their home

Do not let her cook. This girl cannot do it to save her life.

Jordan Persnickety - Twisted from Jessie (I remember blushing so hard when I went to Disney and Jessie gave me my own special nickname I should have known I was queer sooner /j (I was 8 LMAO))

Sentient doll, don't ask me why they're a sentient doll and Cody isn't, they just are

Genderfluid, She/he/they pronouns, also Lesbian

Best friends with Brett, used to be close to Cody in high school but in college he just came off as so much meaner

Speaks with a thick southern accent/sounds similar to Epel

Doesn't really remember when or where she gained sentience, or for what purpose, but she'll take full advantage of it now

Lives at Brett's place, (she's got nowhere else to go), Brett's mom loves her

Customizes all her clothing

Taking karate at the moment with her own money

Volunteers at the local zoo

She painted on her own freckles

Blaire Morrison - Twisted from Bo Peep

Planned to go to Stonybrook, but was invited to RSA and accepted

Fashionista

Influencer + entrepreneur

Started a pajama company

Animal rights activist (has a connection to my other OC, Neo Capini)

Aussie

Looooves matcha (lies)

Larry Boscus - Twisted from Lotso Bear

He was a teacher at RSA, was recently fired and got hired at the community college to teach entry level mathematics

His fiancee cheated on him, so they broke up two months before the wedding

In a bad place mentally, treats everyone like they're below him and gets exasperated quickly

Picked up smoking to cope with life's stressors

Really going through that midlife crisis

Has a group of fan girls at the school that just pisses him off more

Looks as put-together as he can for work but he is a Mess

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Uh hi! So I know you usually do ship stuff, but I am desperate for some Isaac Henderson angst content. I’ve found a few here and there but most of them aren’t actually super angsty and a lot somehow feel more about the other characters even if they’re meant to be about Isaac. They’re good but nothings really scratched that itch so far. Could you write something using #12 from the angsty dialogue prompts? Or honestly if you’d rather not do that one, any one of the prompts would be great. I’ll leave it up to you what exactly it’s about and who the line is directed at, I just wanna see my fave go through it.

hello!! i'm sorry this took so long! i would like to clarify that i started it ages ago, but it was at less than 1000 words yesterday evening, and then it was finished at 2am last night. (i got so into it i'm currently in the mindset of "that's it, i'm going to try and post at least a fic a week now 😤", but we will see if that actually happens.) so, i hope if nothing else it's sufficiently angsty and not too ooc. you did give me quite a bit of freedom, and it remains unclear if that was a good choice or not 😅 anyway, enjoy!!

12. "Help me."

Post-prom, Isaac felt out of sorts. 

His situation with James and his odd encounter at Elle’s exhibition had been eye-opening, to say the least. Angela Chen’s Ace still resided on his nightstand, though he’d finished reading it two days after lifting it from the library. He couldn’t bring himself to return it just yet; he found himself going back to it at night, rereading sections over again as if they would tell him something new, feeling he was still missing something. And anyway, they were still on summer holidays. The school wouldn’t miss it for now. 

No one seemed to be missing him much, either.

It was becoming more noticeable, this summer break, how he was the odd one out. He’d been aware his friends were essentially coupled off for months now, and Paris had cemented it, but Paris had also kept them stuck together as a group. 

(Plus, most of the Paris trip had been before things had become royally awkward with James, but he was mostly avoiding thinking about all that.)

The situation with Darcy had understandably taken a bit of a priority in the past couple of weeks, but it didn’t explain the shift that had seemed to happen within all his friends since prom. Isaac had figured for a while that Elle would be leaving, and he assumed it was why she and Tao had been attached at the hip. He didn’t begrudge them it, really. He had watched them pine over each other long enough that leaving them this time together felt warranted. Besides, it wasn’t like they were asking Charlie to movie nights recently, either. 

But it also wasn’t likely Charlie was waiting to be asked, these days. He and Nick had seemingly re-entered their honeymoon phase, which was fair given that they finally could be as coupley as they wanted wherever and whenever they wanted. Isaac just found it odd that it seemed to be more since prom than Nick’s coming out, but he was not going to ask about that. It made sense he didn’t want to think about. The intense, somewhat dark cloud that seemed to still hang over Nick around Charlie was more worth questioning, but it was also part of what kept Isaac from encroaching on them recently. 

Everyone seemed to have something going on. His going-ons felt a little unworthy, in comparison. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling shit about himself because he didn’t want to put an extra burden on his friends and it was a bit sad he considered his feelings a burden, or if that was an excuse for not having to talk about it because he didn’t really know how and it was making him feel shit. 

So, yes. Out of sorts. 

Out of sorts and alone, most of the time. 

He was not in the habit of pitying himself, however, and he was not about to start now. So what if he was having some life-defining realisations about himself and he had no one to share them with? He’d coped with life mostly on his own so far and he’d continue to do so. 

And he was coping. Perfectly. 

Kind of. 

Sitting in one of his best friend’s houses, surrounded by their other friends and staring into a book was how he always coped, so this was perfectly normal. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t absorbing the words and everyone seemed louder than usual. He hadn’t been sleeping well. He was tired. That’s all he was feeling. 

Tara tugged at his foot from where she and Darcy were perched on the floor by his armchair. “Isaac, we're gonna play a boardgame. Put the book down and come join us!”

Isaac looked, but Tao and Elle were still wrapped up in each other in the corner and Nick and Charlie were nowhere in sight. He raised an eyebrow at Tara. “We are?”

“Yes! Nick and Charlie are away to get them right now, so come get comfy.”

Darcy snorted. “Good idea, because we could be waiting for a bit.”

Tara slugged her shoulder and Darcy only giggled again. 

“Shouldn't they have passed the honeymoon phase by now?” Isaac asked, lowering his book slightly but not yet closing it. 

“Nick and Charlie?” Tara grinned. “I'm not sure those two will ever come out of it.”

“Well, I can't say I don't understand,” Darcy quipped, leaning in to Tara with a grin. Tara turned towards her, and their smiles melded as they kissed.

Isaac snapped his book closed. “Actually, I think I'll go to the loo while we're waiting.”

No one gave any sign of hearing him, so Isaac slipped quietly out of the room and up to the bathroom. He rolled his eyes at the giggles coming from Charlie's room and didn't pause. Closing the bathroom door behind him, he finally released a sharp breath. He perched himself on the edge of the bath and pulled out his phone.

Instagram was a distraction he did not often indulge in. His follow count was small—only his friends and favourite authors alongside a small cluster of bookstagrammers he'd found to have good taste. He saved a couple of recommendation posts, then began clicking through stories, pausing when he reached James's. 

The story was almost timed out, all of it from last night, seemingly at a party. Isaac had stopped on a video where James appeared to be singing along to the song playing with another boy. In the middle of it, the boy had swooped forward to kiss James on the cheek. 

Isaac stared at James’s delighted expression and something complicated clenched in his chest. He quickly locked the phone and set it beside him, directing his focus to the wall. 

It was good, he rationalised. James was wonderful; he deserved to be going out and having fun, and he deserved, without question, to have a handsome boy having fun with him. Whether they were friends or something more didn't matter, but the something more definitely seemed possible, if not likely. And James deserved someone who could give him that. 

Isaac had not been able to give him that—did not want to give anyone that, could not derive any joy from it, even from the chance of it giving joy to someone else. 

He was not incapable of love. He knew that. When he looked at his family, when he looked at Charlie and Tao and Elle, he was always so full of love he felt he might explode from it. It wasn't romantic, and it wasn't physical, but it was love, in its purest form it seemed, to him, given he did not want anything in return for it but their happiness and their continued place in his life. 

It was love, uncomplicated, unconditional love, and why wouldn't that be enough? 

He never seemed to be enough. 

He always did what he could to be a good son and a good friend, and he had never doubted it until recently. James had been one of those good friends. He still was, as far as Isaac was concerned, but their relationship had undeniably changed. Maybe it was simply in an awkward phase that would pass, but Isaac, at the moment, could not believe it would ever be the same. For a time, James had been something of his best friend—not because Isaac liked him more than Charlie or Tao or Elle, or because he really spent more time with him, but because James was Isaac’s friend in a way they were not. They spent time together, the two of them, and shared interests the two of them, and when they had been together they had not felt the need for any company outside of the two of them. 

But that had not meant the same to James as it had to Isaac, and Isaac could not give him anything more. He understood that his rejection would not be taken without consequence, but he hadn't been prepared to be, in a way, rejected in return. 

Was this all he would ever achieve? Having friends who would always be somewhat distant—who would always have someone closer, someone better—or having someone close who would eventually want that closeness in a way he did not. Before, he'd worried he was not worthy of that want to begin with. Never had he thought it would be his inability to return it that would be the issue. Could he be upset, that it was his not wanting to be too close that lost him all closeness as a result? 

He was alone on an island of his own making. He couldn't blame anyone for leaving him there if he wasn't going to invite them in, could he? 

Was this, then—alone in the bathroom of his best friend's house with his phone locked beside him and tears in his throat—all he was destined for? 

Isaac Island, party of one. 

A knock on the door startled him, and he swore quietly as he knocked his phone onto the tiles. As he picked it up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and blanched. There were no tears, but his eyes were red and his face was blotchy and the tears were waiting in his throat, they surely would be there if he went back downstairs to—

Another knock.

“One—one minute,” he tried, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. He quickly turned on the tap and ran his hands and wrists under the cool water, but it did nothing to steady his breathing. The thought of his aloneness had choked him, but the thought of returning into company strangled him. It was not his friends’ fault—he refused to make it his friends’ fault—but at the moment, he couldn't bear them all the same. 

He cupped more cold water in his hands and scrubbed it over his face, but it did not shock him out of the spiral of his thoughts. The third knock barely registered over the growing ringing in his ears. 

“Isaac?” Not Charlie, like Isaac had thought. Not Nick either, or Tara, or any of them. “Are you okay? I'd really like to use the loo.”

His island, he thought deliriously, was sinking; he was drowning, and still, he could do nothing but soak his hands under the tap and soak his face in turn and suck in breaths that did not hold enough oxygen. He was drowning, he was sinking, he could not see it but his body felt it and his lungs were going to seize, he was dying—

He cut the knocking off by throwing open the door and gasping, “Help me.”

Isaac had one second to appreciate Tori’s bewildered expression before it turned serious and she took to action. “Isaac? Hey. Look at me.” She set her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around his middle, still heaving. “I'm assuming you didn't just get diagnosed with asthma,” Tori said, still impossibly calm—perhaps he was actually the sea, he thought, undefinable and raving, and she the island, unravagable. Isaac shook his head. “Alright. I think, then, this is likely a panic attack. Would it help if I get Charlie?”

Isaac shook his head more vigorously. 

To her credit, Tori only considered him for a few seconds, and didn't argue. She guided him back into the bathroom and gently kicked the door closed. “Sit,” she told him. He did, and she crouched in front of him. Immediately, with his knees pulled to his chest and the bath supporting his back, it was better. He was not so adrift. “You're alright. It will pass. I know it's stupid, but you really do just have to focus on breathing.”

She started counting. It was only when she'd repeated the numbers four times that he understood she was telling him how long to breathe in and out for. Then he tried to follow it, and slowly, air felt like it was moving through him regularly again. 

Isaac wiped at his cheek. To his embarrassment, his fingers came away damp. He didn't look at Tori, but he said, “Thank you.” Then, “Sorry.”

She didn't brush off his apology, or tell him to get out now so she could actually use the loo—both of which would have been fair and not unexpected responses. Instead, she turned and sat next to him. She leaned against the bath to his left, a few inches between their shoulders, and stared at the wall quietly with him. 

When his skin stopped vibrating, he tucked his arms around his middle again and breathed out. “How did you know what to do?” he asked. 

She glanced at him and shrugged. “I didn't, really.”

It was all she offered, but it seemed honest. Isaac decided not to push. He was too grateful to care much. 

“Do you want to tell me what it was about?” she asked, softly. 

Isaac looked over at her. She was looking back, unsmiling but not unhappy. She reminded him a lot of Charlie, Isaac had always thought. They seemed similar in ways they likely weren't even aware of. It was both comforting and unnerving. “Do you really want me to?”

Tori shrugged again. “I'd prefer it if you told Charlie or your other friends, because I think that would be more helpful. But I don't think you want to. So you can tell me, if you need to tell someone.”

That was—exactly what Isaac needed, really. He didn't exactly think it should be Tori. They'd known each other a while, and they liked each other well enough, but they weren't friends. Plus, Isaac knew she and Charlie were actually close; it felt weird and unfair to tell her something and then ask her to keep it from him. 

But in this moment, he could not think of a better option, and the mere thought of getting the weight off his chest was a relief. 

“I think I'm going to end up alone,” he said, blunt and ridiculous. Tori, completely fairly, raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Not because I think I'm unlovable or something like that.” Although that was part of it. “But because—” Could he say the actual words? “—I think I'm asexual, and aromantic, so I don't think I'll ever love love anyone, and I think that means I'll always be a bit alone.”

He could. 

It still seemed sad and pathetic when he said it out loud, maybe even more so, but the act of it—the unretractable reality of it—settled something in him. 

Tori's expression, a little confused but free of judgement, only added to that feeling. “So, you don't feel romantic or sexual attraction,” she said slowly. “At all. Is that what you mean?”

Isaac was vaguely impressed. He nodded. 

“When did you figure this out?”

Isaac took a long, heavy breath. “I think, properly, I started to figure it out in Paris, when I realised this guy liked me and I was trying to figure out if I liked him back? But I think I'd been starting to realise it long before then. I just…hadn't known what to call it, or what it meant.”

Tori, he noticed gratefully, took time to process this before nodding. “And now?”

Isaac blinked. “Now?”

“What do you think it means now?”

Oh. Isaac hadn't expected the question, and he found himself unsure of how to answer. “I think it means I'm always going to be lonely.”

Tori tilted her head. “But you didn't think that before.”

“What?”

“You said you don't think you're unlovable. And I agree. I think Charlie loves you a lot. I think most people would, because you are a very nice person. You didn't think of that as less important because it wasn't romantic before. What changed?”

Changed? Nothing. Everything. They were growing up, and love had more meanings when you grew up, and some of those meanings became less important. He looked at the wall again. “They have other people they love more,” he said softly. 

“And you won't ever have that,” Tori returned, equally soft. Not a barb, not a rebuke, nothing negative at all. Just realising; working through it alongside him. “So you think you won't ever be the most important person to someone.”

Isaac swallowed, unable to answer. Not because he didn't know the answer—because it was yes, it was true, she was right, of course she was—but because it was impossible to admit. 

“I think that's the case for most people,” Tori said, at once blunt and thoughtful. Isaac looked back at her, awaiting an explanation. “Think about it. Even the most in love people usually have children, and then their children are the most important people, or at least equally important. And if they have more than one child, no one of them is the most important, and neither of the parents are the most important to the other. I think, instead of having one supremely important person, most people have a group of important people in their life.”

She looked over at him and continued. “There probably are different levels and different kinds of importance, but I don't think that necessarily means one is worth less than the other.”

Isaac sat, for a moment, and absorbed that. Could it be true? He thought of his family. He was lucky, in that scenario. His parents were kind, were wonderful, and he knew without question that they loved him, and he loved them. Neither one of them, he realised, was more important to him than the other. He had different relationships with them both, but each of their losses would leave an equally sized hole in his heart. 

He knew that probably wasn't the same for most people, but if he could find that one example in his own life so easily, he couldn't deny it was possible in others. 

“I suppose,” Isaac said. “I think I know what you mean. I don't think it's the same, but—I know what you mean.”

Tori did smile, now. A barely there thing, but warm and kind, all the same. “It probably isn't the same. I know me saying I love my brothers equally and neither of them are less important doesn't mean anything for your friends treating you the same as their partners, or even other friends. But I think—every relationship is as important as you make it. And sometimes, people might not know they aren't making it important, if they don't know what's important about it to you.”

“Has important stopped sounding like a real word to you, too?” Isaac asked. 

“About six ‘important’s ago,” Tori agreed. 

Isaac laughed, and his relief grew. Tori's smile also grew, just a tick. 

“You're saying I should just talk to my friends,” Isaac noted, eventually, and Tori's smile grew wry. 

“I did say that at the very beginning, yes.” Isaac laughed again, and she shook her head. “But I am saying you should explain to them. I can't promise you're wrong, or tell you everything will be fine,” she said truthfully. “But I don't think you can assume people can't give you what you need, if you don't tell them what that is and let them try.”

Isaac’s chest tightened again, but it was different to the breathless feeling from before. Instead of hopelessness, it was an anticipatory sort of buzz. There was a sureness that hadn't been there before. 

There was a clatter from outside, and this time it was Charlie's voice that called out. “Isaac! Are you still up here? We have the game set up.”

Isaac looked from the door back to Tori. She gave him another smile and nodded. “Go on. I have really needed to pee for about ten minutes now.”

Isaac laughed, again, and got to his feet. Tori passed his phone up to him, and he thanked her once more. He knew she could tell he meant for everything, and she wouldn't appreciate him making more of it, so he took his leave without another word, leaving her to pee in peace. 

Charlie was hovering at the top of the stairs. His face broke into a smile at Isaac’s appearance. “There you are. You've been up here ages.” His smile drooped slightly as Isaac came closer. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Isaac nodded. “Sorry, I got caught talking to Tori.”

“In the bathroom?” Charlie huffed, bewildered but amused. For a moment Isaac pictured Tori's expression when he'd opened the door to her, and he smiled. 

He only hesitated for a second before saying, “I wanted to talk to all of you about something, actually.”

Immediately, Charlie's expression softened. “Yeah?” When Isaac nodded, Charlie smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him towards the staircase. “Come on, then. The game can wait.”

[thatfriendlyanon]

5, 8, 11, 14, 18, 20, 29, 36, 38, 49, and 54! I know this is. many many questions to answer so if you’d like, you can pick & choose which ones you’d like to respond to and leave out the ones you don’t!! :)

:'O thank you for being so interested, grace!! :D ok this is gonna be long so strap in XDD bc yes i Am rambling about Them All >:]

5. synesthesia

ohh the fun fact about this one. so this whole poem is about My First Name, and how when i taught some students in a different country they pronounced my name differently, which then made it Look Different in my head to me bc of my synesthesia. which is great! but the funny thing is is that between writing this poem for my capstone + working to publish it Now, i've. uh. changed my first name SDLKJSDG so i'm really not sure how much sense this poem will make to readers (bc my first name is never Mentioned in full, just broken down by syllables/colors/etc), to the point where i'm considering commenting on it for clarity in my opening author's note lol.

favorite line:

by name. They soften my vowels, wring out the green from my e-s.

8. on the eve of my twentieth birthday

fun fact this is another one of those poems that's "personal experience Themes/Ideas but the actual events have never taken place." also it's one i'm still dissatisfied with and i'm currently on a hunt to figure out Why bc i can't place what's making it still feel Not Right

favorite line (ironically usually it's the closing lines of a poem that give me the most trouble, but i do really like this poem's; it's the middle that needs the revisions):

into a different borough, drenched in Central Park’s green. Trees older than both of us. My hand in yours. A river, two rocks, the sea.

11. unmasking

fun fact i wrote this poem to/about one of my tumblr friends <3 they were one of the key figures in helping me realize i'm autistic, and i really valued the safe space they created for me to understand what that meant. i admired their ability to unmask freely, and i carry some of their freedom with me to this day. <33

favorite line (dropped lines are funnn):

when I’m alone. The paper unfurls. My wings widen, ripple to their full width. I am free for a moment. When I shrink myself again, my creases whiten, start to fray.

14. to the eight texts i’ve left unanswered, a response

fun fact this poem really is just "elle uses winter as a metaphor for why she's terrible at responding to texts for eight stanzas" and it kinda works XD also after reading it can you tell i grew up in a northern state lol

favorite line:

We wake up to silence, windows warped with light from an angled sun.

18. my roommate describes depression

fun fact this was a napo poem i wrote inspired by "lonely" by yael naïm. when i first heard it, the middle verse really struck me (so i'm coloring my face / while i am here with you / imagining the landscape of your sorrow / is it yellow or blue?), so i explored a similar concept as a metaphor for depression & empathy.

favorite line (there are other lines in the poem i like more for their imagery, but i love what this line implies; it's the idea that someone is not scared of sitting with another person's pain when they have experienced their own):

I point to flecks of peach and amber. I tell you I am an artist. I am used to colors and what they leave behind.

20. a week after the divorce, we roadtrip to california

fun fact this poem is written with my little brother in mind, so the mention of "twin pines towering above you" is an undetectable reference to gravity falls, his favorite tv show. :') also looking at it just now is making me realize this could Also be a good spoken word piece, since any time i read it in my head i have specific places where the momentum picks up/voice changes/etc. hmm i should give it a try sometime.....

favorite line:

This world is so wide, little brother, I feel as if we will fall through its corners. See the way the redwoods prop up the sky? See the clouds curling like old receipts, how when it snows they might drip down the horizon and disintegrate altogether?

29. to the solider

okay hilarious fun fact is this poem originally started out as a fanpoem about bucky barnes that i wrote one napowrimo which then ended up as a poem about ptsd sdlkjsdg

favorite line:

only to be caged, abandoned, left behind like photographs in an old drawer.

36. in psychology class we discuss different methods of abuse

fun fact this is the Very First "little girl inside my chest" poem i ever wrote! which is wild to look at now after everything that's gone down with that motif in my writing/processing/Life.

favorite line (i like the mixed imagery of internal body parts + parts of a building):

Today, the me from eight years ago shifts in her shelter, elbows my diaphragm, grabs at my breath. She climbs up my rib cage to the second story of my throat, pushes against my trachea like an infant in a womb.

38. relearning what it means to be alive

fun fact i wrote this one year on world suicide prevention day and it is still one of my favorite poems i've ever written on the subject 💛 also fun fact, this was not ever my intent while writing it but after reading it aloud in a few different settings i do believe this poem's true form is spoken word :D

favorite line (this is my favorite part to perform bc it's where the intensity shifts in the poem and your voice gets louder/firmer/a bit more desperate):

When the cold times come, when the familiar shadows crawl down my throat and settle in my stomach, I will stay to watch them leave. I will stay to shout that I am here, and I am healing, and I am not whole––not yet––but that is okay.

49. when i ask you to explain your neurodivergence

ahh this poem! fun fact i originally wrote it for an acquaintance who had reached out to me to be a part of her school assignment. she was supposed to partner with a person who was a member of a community that she was Not a part of, and help that person create something that communicated a biblical truth to that community. she asked if i wanted to write a poem about my experience having adhd, and the whole process was such a wonderful time.

this is one of those poems where the narrator is Someone Else and the "you" is based more off my experiences. i've always used water imagery to articulate what adhd means to me, and i had a lot of fun finding creative pieces of the metaphor to correspond with different aspects of adhd. i even reached out to my other adhd friends to ask what parts of their neurodivergence they have the most trouble accepting, so i could try to weave those into the poem too. i was supposed to connect my art piece with a bible passage, so i worked closely with psalm 139, since that psalm was such a comfort & encouragement to me when i was first seeking diagnosis and wrestling with the challenging aspects of adhd. the reminder that God created my brain how it is and loves its differences is a treasured truth. <3

favorite line:

Let me come with you down to the seabed. I want to watch kelp dance in your currents–– see them flap like flags each time you can’t contain your joy.

54. the ghosts i’ve befriended tell me it’s time

fun fact this poem is three lines long. XD but more specifically, at the end of each section in the collection i have a "coda" poem, aka a very short (2-4 lines) poem that serves to wrap up that section before going into the next one. so this is the last coda poem of the manuscript, inspired by lazarus being raised from the dead.

favorite line: the title, honestly, since it serves as both the title + opening line xD

ask me questions about my poetry manuscript!!

[askstevella]

When did you know? // STEVELLA & SAMBUCKY Blurb 💍

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Uh hi, Steve, I need to talk to you about something..in private. You got time?”

“For you? Yeah, I’ll squeeze you in between laundry and building stuff in the basement.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Where and when?”

“In an hour, at your old house in Brooklyn.”

An hour later, both Brooklyn boys arrived inside the living room as Bucky closed the door behind him. Steve raised an eyebrow taking off his coat containing his concerns for his friend.

After a moment he asked, “Alright, what is it?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing important, well it’s very important..oh I used to be so good at this stuff.” He asked, sitting down on the couch running his fingers across his hair before asking, “Uh, when did you know it was the right decision to marry Ella?”

“Wait what? Bucky are you serious?”

“Just answer the question please.”

“You dragged me here to listen to a sappy story why I love my wife? Okay fine..I guess, I wanted Elle to be the last person I see when I go to sleep, and the first one when I wake up. And I wanted the whole world to know that she is mine. Why are you asking me this?”

“Because you’re my best friend and one of the only superhero power couples or whatever is the press is calling it now. I wanted to know what it meant for us oddballs, who can’t exactly have a normal married life. I need to know what the risk would be saying the, uh I dos.”

At that Steve raised an eyebrow, “Uh risks? Buck, yes, there are risks in every aspect of a relationship even before marriage. But punching bad guys in our free time doesn’t mean we can’t have a normal life..I didn’t expect to find my place when I thawed out of the ice. Now, I have Stella, and I am the happiest I have ever been. It is worth to take risks with the person you love. It’s an added bonus when you get to save them or come back home to find them on the couch waiting for you.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s—that’s fair.” Bucky replied with a chuckle before continuing, “I don’t see it as much as a risk. I don’t want anything like that to happen if I do take the plunge. And I know, that’s not possible when being a superhero. So how did you really know you could do it?”

“I didn’t Buck. I just want to do it.”

“You weren’t nervous about it?”

“Terrified. I was terrified of messing up, I was that way in the very beginning of my relationship as well. But I did it. I felt like it would be a good thing.”

“Geez, why did I ask the guy who doesn’t use a parachute for advice on marriage stuff. You’re no help Steve.” He laughs before standing up and pacing nervously, “So you’re saying, I should just go for and ask Sam?”

That’s when it started to make sense for him. Yeah, sure, Steve had his high suspicions about that being the reason behind this trip but he didn’t want to assume or give his friend the wrong impression about the situation.

“You want to truly propose to Sam?” He asked trying to hide his excitement but his lips turned into a smile.

“Who else would I be proposing to, stupid?” He added stopped pacing around and chuckling, “Me and Sam have been together for a while now. So how do I know when to ask or even if I should ask?”

“Like I said, do it when you feel like it’s right. Hmm, do you have a ring? Or anything in mind?”

“Nope. I have no idea yet. I just need an opinion on this whole thing. How did you propose to her?”

Steve grinned briefly bitting his nails for a moment remembering his attempts at a proposal to Stella. He told Bucky it took him two times to get it right. He was going to propose to her one morning in bed with the ring and everything when Fury called everyone in for a mission, so right in the middle of battle, he panicked before leaping out of a window as he saw Stella on the ground and ready asked her. It was a freak accident that caused Stella to rethink her decision about her life.

Natasha stopped Steve before he said anything stupid like popping the question, as the idea was brought back into his head after the attack in New York that weekend. He remembers in the medical wing, Stella asked if he would ever consider marriage and going to the courthouse to get married that weekend, he said yes to the idea of being her husband. But rejected her proposal because he had plans of his own, at least he knew she wanted to marry him.

The next week after the battle, Steve took over the position of planning a simple dinner at his old house in Brooklyn as they ate in the kitchen, dressed in comfortable yet elegant clothes and planned on watching a movie with their friends later on. The two of them alone, no doubt in their minds about friends or relatives ruining their night. So in the end of dinner, Steve proposed by pushing the ring across the table and waiting for her answer. She was in complete surprise as she said yes.

However the night was cut short due to an accident downtown in Manhattan.

Bucky chuckled imagining how sweet yet humorous it must’ve gotten. He smiled softly, “Sounds like a wild two weeks.”

“It was like the universe didn’t want me to enjoy my time with her to propose.” He admitted returning the smile, “Anyways, that’s how I did. You don’t have to plan anything out or even think outside the box. Whatever feels comfortable enough for you guys.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you already live together and raise two beautiful kids. You don’t need to marry each other until you feel absolutely ready for it. It took me a long time to figure out my feelings for Stella to understand how to ask her out.”

“Now it’s all good?”

“Oh yeah. We’re pretty good.”

That whole talk made Bucky feel better about his decision to marry Sam because he knew at the end of the day they loved one another and that’s all that matters.

—-💍———

Sooo what do we think?

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @sherloquestea and etc

[the-hatchetfield-chronicles]

6/13/20. Interview with Snigglette. Watcher World. 2:35 P.M.

EM: Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Elle Marden. What’s your name?

S: Snigglette, of course!

EM: I thought Snigglette was just a character?

S: Well…uh…we Sniggles like to get really into character! It helps us put on a more snozzling performance!

EM: That makes sense. So what is it like working here at Watcher World?

S: Well, everything we do is for our boss, Blinky. please our boss, Blinky.

EM: So Blinky is a real person? Not just a mascot?

S: He’s both, really. He’s the mascot of the park, but he’s also the owner. He created Watcher World for his own entertainment. He loves to watch everything that goes on here. He’s…he’s always watching.

EM: I have questions about some of the lyrics in your songs, particularly the first one. Does Blinky really treat you that badly?

S: I don’t want to go into too much detail, or else he’ll get mad! But he takes care of us.

[Note from Elle: Throughout my life, I’ve grown keen at detecting when people are lying. From their expressions, to their tone of voice, to their subtle, subconscious body language. While not always foolproof, these mannerisms often suggest that someone is lying. The reason I bring this up: I believe Snigglette is not telling the full truth.]

EM: Okay. I am curious though; what is the target audience of your musical?

S: Blinky’s Watch Party is fun for the whole family, from snoozles to snoogs!

EM: I’m not sure what those words mean, but if the show is kid friendly, why do some of the songs have such violent lyrics?

S: That’s just Blinky for you. I mean—uh…

EM: [Furrows brow] What do you mean by that? Are the lyrics true?

S: No! Well…um…yes.

EM: So if you upset him in any way, he’ll really “spill your guts”? Is that why you were so hesitant to tell me about him?

S: Yes.

EM: And he starves you if you cry?

S: Yes. I’ve seen it happen to so many sniggles.

EM: That’s…that’s terrible! Why do you still work for him?

S: You don’t understand. We don’t have a choice. We can’t leave. When I said everything we do is to please our boss, I meant everything.

EM: Is that why you want to go to Snoozle Town?

S: [Nods] It’s been my dream since I was a little snooze. But as I’ve grown up, I’ve realized that dream might just not be attainable. So I stay. Blinky doesn’t want me to leave. In a way, I don’t want to leave either. Drowsy Town is my home. And I don’t know who I’d be without Blinky. What would my purpose be?

EM: I don’t know, Snigglette, but I know this: your purpose shouldn’t be dependent on someone else. It’s your life, and you should be allowed to live for yourself, how you want to live!

S: Ha. That’s a snoggle. But serving Blinky is the reason for my very existence. [Her face falls.] Speaking of, if Blinky heard what I said! He’ll snackle me for sure! I’m snooked!

[Recording ends]

[ashseavr]

uh oh, i'm falling in love.

it only hurts this much right now,

ashley was sitting at her desk, typing away on a report that had just came in. she was the newbie, once again – which meant she got the paperwork. she didn’t mind though. she could put her focus into words about cases, and not her anxieties about adjusting to being back at the bau.

however, her focus was shifted the moment elle walked over to her desk. she had taken the breath out of her lungs the second she laid eyes on her during her first day. today, not much had changed. 

elle sat on the side of her organized desk, an inviting smile resting on her face. 

“we’re having girls night at my house on friday, seaver. why don’t you come?”

girls night. usually, girls night included wine, laughter - friends. maybe she was being accepted easier into their friends and family unit the rest had created than she had expected. 

ashley nodded, already feeling the heat in her cheeks rise. 

“yeah – sure. i’ll be there.”

was what i was thinking the whole time.

friday.  friday.  friday. 

she thought to herself all week. part of her was horrified. she knew she was a lightweight, and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. she knew they all had established friendships and relationships, and she was the outsider. but the other part of her was excited - because elle was going to be there. she knew elle was in a relationship, and never would dream of getting in the middle of something that seemed so happy. but elle gave her a sense of calm in a weird way too. it was comforting to know she was going to be there – and at her house.

friday came. work was simple - well, as simple as the bau could be. she clocked out, and all the girls said their goodbyes and see you soons. 

of course, ashley was panicking the whole way to her home. she had to change and get her nerves under control. 

you can do this. get it together. 

breathe in, breathe through

breathe deep, breathe out.

the soft glow of ambient lighting filled the room, casting a warm hue over the small gathering of women. it was an intimate affair, just a few close colleagues at elle's house, meant to welcome ashley back into town and into the bau. these were monthly gatherings for all of them, but new for ashley.

as the laughter from emily, jennifer, and penelope filled the living room, ashley felt both comforted and slightly overwhelmed, her nerves gently fraying at the edges. she always seemed to be so nervous, but this had her on edge in many ways.

elle soon came in from the kitchen, moving through the room with an effortless grace that spoke of deep confidence and ease within herself. it was her home after all. 

wow, is all ashley could think. 

i'll be getting over you my whole life.

she was older than ashley, and it showed. not just in the slight lines around her eyes from laughter and smiles in years past —lines that seemed to accentuate her charisma rather than diminish her appearance—but also in the calm, assured way she spoke and listened. 

ashley found herself watching elle, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

you know how scared i am of elevators,

never trust it if it rises fast.

ashley, by contrast, was palpably younger, her anxiety about rejoining her old and new friends visible in the way she clutched her glass a bit too tightly with white knuckles, or her hands finding their ways to the edge of her shirt to mess with the trim ever so often.

despite her success in her career - personal interactions, especially ones bringing up past insecurities from her earlier years at the bau, still felt like navigating a minefield.

“you good over there, seaver?”

it can’t last.

there her voice was again. ashley nodded, a small smile spreading that was soon accompanied by a light blush.

uh oh, i'm falling in love.

as the night evolved and the group's conversation ebbed and flowed, ashley found herself in a quieter corner with elle, sharing pieces of her life since she'd last been in town. 

when the topic inadvertently shifted to ashley's love life, and the embarrassing story elle had tried to drag out of her for days now - she finally came clean with bright red cheeks. her voice was meek, small even.

“i met a girl at a party in college. we went to hookup, we made out - she started to escalate things and i started crying.”

elle's response was immediate and gentle, her voice a soothing - with no judgement. 

"there's nothing to be ashamed of, ashley. we all find our way in our own time," elle reassured her, placing a tender hand on ashley's knee, grounding her. “i did that too once.”

shes touching me. why does it feel right?

oh no, i'm falling in love again.

it was this moment, under the dim lights and with the soft cadence of elle's voice, that ashley felt a pull she couldn't ignore. the mix of elle's maturity and supportive demeanor made her both a safe harbor and an intriguing figure.

“i dont know. thinking about kissing people - anyone, since then, is so scary - i know it sounds stupid, but i-”

ashley went to speak, only to be interrupted by a squeeze on her knee once more.

“hey, i’ll kiss you. get you over your fear.”

me? she wants to kiss me? fuck. im a little wibbly wobbly in my brain. why am i such a light weight? i wonder if she can see how flustered i am?

“seriously. i’ll bring you upstairs. i don’t think you want to do this in front of everyone right?”

oh, im falling in love. 

ashley swallowed, a small tipsy smile showing. 

“you’re smart elle. more people should tell you that!”

as a light giggle left ashley’s lips, elle couldn’t help but chuckle.

“thank you, ashy.”

ashy? thats new.

guided by elle's confident hand, ashley followed her upstairs. the shift from the public eye of the living room to the private peace of elle's bedroom was nice. but it also set a fear into her - she saw the clothes of her fiancee on the bed. this was wrong - right? 

it was like elle could sense the worry ashley had, and quickly calmed them.

“its fine, she told me i could.”

okay. its fine? i guess. were they actually together then?

i thought the plane was going down

how'd you turn it right around?

elle sat ashley down on the side of her bed, and faced her, her eyes searching ashley's for any sign of hesitation.

 "we'll only go as far as you're comfortable," she promised, her voice a soft command that made ashley's breath catch in her throat as she nodded.

elle’s bed had a dark purple bed spread, much different from her bright white sheets she had at home. she didn’t know why she noticed it, but she did. 

“i - i have to spit my gum out, youre not allergic to cinnamon right? that’d be bad. i dont want to–”

and then it happened. 

when elle kissed her, it was with precision and care that led the blonde to believe there was actually passion below the surface. ashley, spurred by the initial contact, found herself responding with eagerness. 

she pulled back lightly, her face clearly red. 

it only feels this raw right now,

lost in the labyrinth of my mind.

ashley blinked a few times, and elle had a soft smile spread. she knew the look, like she had known ashley her whole life - and leaned in again, softly pushing her back onto the bed and deeping into another kiss - driven by a mutual desire that seemed to fill the space around them with everything people talked about in the movies.

“you can tell me to stop..”

elle mumbled against ashley’s lips - the vibrations being something ashley could get used to. 

“im okay.”

break up, break free, break through, break down

you would break your back to make me break a smile.

elle's hands framed ashley's face gently, her thumbs brushing softly against her cheeks as she deepened their kiss, guiding them into a headspace that felt both exhilarating and safe. her touch was light, yet filled with intention, each touch and move calculated to reassure and calm ashley’s lingering nerves.

as they shifted further into the bed, elle's movements were unhurried and mindful. she positioned herself to hover slightly over ashley, ensuring she felt the security of her presence without being overwhelmed. the heat between them grew, not just from physical touch but from the tender energy that was created between them.

you know how much i hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back,

just like that.

“just breathe - i won't hurt you,” elle whispered, her breath warm against ashley’s neck as she placed gentle kisses down her collarbone, still feeling how tense the blonde was. the softness of her voice, laced with affection and encouragement, seemed to dissolve the last of ashley’s apprehension. each word from elle was a soothing, anchoring ashley in the moment, grounding her in the waves of new and stirring emotions that elle’s touches evoked.

uh oh, i'm falling in love.

ashley felt a flutter of trust as elle’s hands explored more boldly, yet always attentive to her reactions. even in moments of her eyes being closed, ashley could feel elle’s eyes focused in on each twitch of her eyebrow and the way her chest rose. she felt elle pull her underwear to the side, her mouth lightly parting at the initial contact. 

the connection deepened with each shared breath, each whisper of comfort. elle’s guidance was subtle yet firm, her experience evident as she navigated their intimacy with an understanding that felt almost natural. like she was made to be with her.

“you’re doing good, baby…,” elle reassured, as her other hand traced lines down ashley’s temples, down to her chest and soon to her free hand that wasn’t white-knuckling the bed sheets, intertwining their fingers. 

this gesture, simple yet intimate, reinforced the connection, making ashley feel not only seen but protected in some way she couldn’t describe.

oh no, i'm falling in love again.

elle’s lips found ashley’s again, a mixture of all the unsaid words, a silent promise in which she couldn’t figure out exactly what it was yet - soft groans shared between the two of them between each kiss. their bodies moved in harmony like they had been together for years. like elle knew how to pull each reaction from her, and just what spots to nip and hit.  

the room elle shared with a woman who she would soon figure out she barely knew, was filled with the soft sounds of their shared lust, the kind that spoke volumes of their budding affection and mutual desire that had been sat boiling since ashley walked back through the steps of the bau.

oh, im falling in love.

ashley’s shaking hand reached for elle’s arm, her eye’s brimmed with tears. by the way her back was arched and her thighs were trembling, it wasn’t hard to tell what was about to happen. elle leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, whispering lightly into the blonde's gasps.

“come on ..let go, i’ve got you. im not going anywhere.”

the blonde threw her head back, elle’s hand gently covering ashley’s mouth only to muffle the sounds she knew ashley would be embarrassed if the girls downstairs had heard.

elle showed a small smile, watching ashley come down from the high she had gently worked her up to - noticing the small bruises from her lips she had left on the blonde in the process. hopefully ashley wouldn’t mind hickeys.

“there you go, just breathe..”

she mumbled softly attempting to coach her through it, reaching down and kissing ashley’s forehead - before laying down beside her in the bed. 

it was good. great even. life changing, actually - because she was literally in love with the brunette laying beside her, and she couldn’t have her. 

ashley begged the tears stinging her eyes to go away, to disappear, was it from the sex - or from her feelings? both, most likley. she felt elle’s soft hand brush a few hairs out of her eyes, making her attention shift to the older woman. 

uh oh, im falling in love.

“you okay, ashley? look at me..”

she nodded, a few tears escaping her eyes and down her cheeks - to be met with elle quickly wiping them off.

“c’mere, let me hold you. calm down a bit, we’ll go down later on. they’re too drunk to notice anyway.”

oh no, im falling in love again. 

elle pulled ashley in close, as if they had been in this position hundreds of times. calming her down - easing her emotions. making sure she was safe. 

why did this feel right. why did she fit perfectly in her arms.  why did she feel like they had known each other for centuries, and not mere days. 

i thought the plane was going down

how'd you turn it right around.

[silver138]

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 35

word count - 1.8k warnings - angst, discussion of alcohol and drinking Summary: Val and Penelope give Lina a confidence boost and a bit of a glow-up.

I get my answer the next day, as we're called in for a case. After being briefed, everyone but Penny and I head into the jet to go down to Mexico to help catch the unsub. When they come back on Wednesday, we fall back into the routine of paperwork.

During the rest of the week, I do my best to give Spencer space, but still do what we usually do; ride the metro together, have lunch together, and talk and laugh together. I'm as hands-off as possible, which is a little difficult, as Spencer has been finding any excuse to be closer to me.

It's finally Friday, and everyone is feeling a little restless.

"I am so glad this week is over!" Penny says as we walk to the elevators.

"You and me both, Baby Girl," Derek says, following behind us.

"Hey, does anyone feel like having drinks and dancing tonight?" Elle asks, looking among us.

Getting an almost instantaneous "Yes!" from both Derek and Penny, she looks at me and I shrug and say, "Sure, sounds like fun."

"What sounds like fun?" Spencer says, making it just as the elevator doors open.

"Oh, uh, Elle was seeing if anyone else wanted to go out for drinks and dancing," I said, as we walked onto the elevator.

Elle turns to him and says, "You should come with us. It's me, Morgan, Garcia, and Lina so far. I have yet to ask the others but if you want to come, it shouldn't be a problem. Right?" looking to the rest of us at her last question.

"Come out with us, Reid! Have some fun!" Penny says, with Derek adding, "Yeah, man. I can give you a ride if you need one."

"W-well, thank you, but..." Spencer starts, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

"C'mon, Doc. Come out with us, have some fun. It might do you some good." I tell him, having to stop myself from touching his arm.

"I...well, alright. Looks like I'll be taking you up on your offer, Morgan." Spencer says with a tight smile.

"All right! Ladies, we'll be seeing you later..." Derek says, leading Spencer out of the elevator as it opens up.

"Catch you later, Elle!" Penny says, and she and I walk out towards her car.

As we get in the car, Penelope says, "He's not the only one that needs some fun, y'know." I hum and give her a confused look, and she sighs and continues. "You've been kinda quiet lately, Lina. You ok?"

"I-yeah, I suppose. I haven't meant to be quiet or anything, I'm just...attempting to give Spencer space, I guess. He made it kinda obvious we're only friends, so I'm just...trying to act accordingly." I say with a sigh.

"I'm not so sure he feels that way, did you see how quickly he changed his mind when you asked him to come?" Penelope says, giving me a quick look as she starts the drive to make a quick stop at her place.

"So?" I say, tilting my head as I look at her.

"So, as soon as he knew you wanted him to join us, he said 'yes'. He wants to be around you, Lina, come on!" Penny says pointedly. She pulls into her apartment's parking lot, and says, "I'll be right back, we'll talk about this more when I come back out!"

I hum and nod my head, sending Val a quick text to let her know that Penny will be coming over and then she and I are going out. I few moments later, I get a text back, saying:

So, is your doctor gonna be there, too?

I scoff as I send her another text.

He's not *my* doctor, but yeah, Spencer will be there, too. Why?

As Penny gets back in, I get another text from Val.

I've already started looking for some clothes for you. You're gonna get *someone's* attention tonight, I'm tired of seeing you moping about.

I sigh, and tell Penelope, "Well, I guess you're gonna meet my roommate tonight. She's started on the hunt for an outfit for me."

Her eyes widen as she says, "Ooh, good! Reinforcements! Don't worry, chica, we'll get you all dolled up!"

I snort and text Val:

Looks like you're gonna have some help on that front. See you soon.

In what feels like no time at all, Penny and I have made it to my apartment. After heading inside and introducing them to each other, Val leads us to where she has clothes laid out, ready to help figure out what I'm going to wear.

"Look, Lina, I'm thinking, you need to step it up a little. You need to stop being afraid to show off a bit more, ok?" Val says as she starts showing me tops.

Penny turns to Val and says, "Yes! I completely agree! I can understand wanting to be professional, but sweetie, you don't have to cover up like you do. You're allowed to show off a little. Besides, it might make a certain Boy Genius take notice of what he's missing..."

Val swoops in with, "And if he doesn't, I'm sure you'll catch another guy's attention. You are going to a bar, there's bound to be guys there checking you out."

I put my hands up in surrender, and say, "OK, first off, no fair ganging up on me. Secondly, yeah, I think it's time I loosen up a little."

Val holds a finger up as she says, "Fair. I didn't pull out any crop tops."

I squint my eyes and say, "Wait, I have crop tops?!"

Val chuckles and says, "Not many. I'm pretty sure I convinced you to get one or two over the years."

I sigh and say, "Alright, what're we working with?"

Val starts picking up shirts as she says, "OK, so, it's getting warmer, right? So, I went with sleeveless. You with me so far?" I nod, and she continues.

"So, here are a few choices. There's this white sleeveless button-down," she says while handing me the top.

I look at it and say, "Y'know, as long as it isn't sheer, I could wear this to work..."

"Or you could do that..." Val mumbles as she sets it aside.

"Maybe this one would work better, then. It's just a regular black halter top. But, with the proper bra..." Val trails off, holding up an accompanying bra. She wiggles her eyebrows and hums.

I frown slightly and nod my head as I think about it, grab the halter top and bra, and head into the bathroom.

Once in there, I freshen up and get dressed. After adjusting everything, I head back out and say, "OK, how is it?" "Very nice!" Val says.

Penny says, "Good, but it's missing something..." and goes over to my jewelry bowl and points to it. I nod, and she starts looking for...something. I'm assuming a necklace.

"Aha!" she says, holding one up triumphantly, then rushes over to me and says, "Here, let's see how this looks with it!"

It's a medium-sized red heart on a silver chain, and when I put it on, the pendant hovers just above the start of my cleavage.

"Nice!" Val says and gives Penny a high-five, which causes the blonde to giggle. "That's some good thinking, draw the eye!"

"Now, for bottoms," Val starts, grabbing a black skirt with silver chains. "Before you say anything, it's a skort," Val explains, handing it to me, and then crosses her arms and smiles at me while raising an eyebrow. I nod and head into the bathroom, pulling them on, and then walking back out.

"It's good, but..." starts Penny, and looks over at Val.

"Needs a little more color." Val finishes, heading over to my sock drawer, and pulling out a pair of black and white striped socks with pink and red roses on them. "Here, this and some more accessories should do it..." she says, looking through the rest of my jewelry and my hair bands.

I put on the socks, then put on the various bracelets and rings that Val and Penny handed me. "Now hair..." Val says.

"I've got an idea!" Penny says, holding a finger up. 

Grabbing a red scrunchie, she carefully puts my hair into a half-up, half-down 'do. She then steps back to stand with Val to assess the look. After giving me a once-over, they look at each other and nod.

I then ask, "OK, so, do I choose the shoes, or..."

"That depends, are there any shoes you have that you can't dance in?" Penny asks.

"Uh, not...really? I don't think so..." I say, and Val races to my closet, pulling out a pair of red sneakers and handing them to me.

"I don't remember getting these..." I start.

"You got these last year, I think. I remember when you bought them, at least." Val says as I put the shoes on.

"And now?" I ask, standing up and waving my hands with a flourish.

"Oh, you are definitely getting hit on tonight!" Val says, causing me to snort.

"Absolutely!" Penny agrees.

"Alright, I'm gonna order us some pizza, 'kay? Any requests?" Val asks.

"Oh, Pen's a vegetarian," I say.

"Got it, no meat. How's one cheese, one Margherita sound?" Val asks as she pulls out her phone.

I look over at Penny, who nods her head, and I say, "Sounds good, Val. I'm gonna add to my makeup while you do that."

Val gives me a thumbs up as she calls, and Penny walks over to me and says, "Hey, ok to borrow your bathroom to get ready?"

I nod, and she heads in to get dressed. I add to my eyeliner and put on some lip stain, being sure that it doesn't budge. After a few minutes, Penelope leaves the bathroom and heads out into the living room with Val. Once I finish, I go that way, too.

When I get there, I see Val and Penny deep in conversation, and they stop and smile at me as I come into the room.

"Penny here was just telling me all about your doctor, Lina," Val says.

"I'm tellin' you, he's not my doctor..." I say with a sigh, then fold my arms and mutter under my breath, "No matter how much I wish it was like that..."

"I'm serious, Lina, Reid is into you!" Penny says, leaning back on the couch.

I give her a look of disbelief, and she says, "Oh, just you wait, I'll bet you anything he'll prove it tonight..."

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