#I need to fiddle more with its eyes but hopefully I’ll post something of it soon

[multiversal-madness]

I feel like it’s going to become a tradition for me to redraw Luke Herzen from my Pandora’s Call Au whenever I come back to the PL fandom (here are the drawings from 2022 and 2021).

I’ve ended up fiddling with the colours to look better, his hair to look more like his grandfather’s (and to look better) and his pendant to be simplified and easier to see at a distance.

[sour--disposition]

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts

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harry x fem!reader

-

Request: OOoO what if you do one where reader similar to Harry and is friends with talia and the other girls, but has never met the sidemen yet and gets invited to do a drinking video with them and they don’t know that reader can hold her liquor and Harry is at awe watching her smash the drinks and pins after her

please check my masterlist to see if requests are open

“Hey, are you busy on Thursday? Simon wants to know if you’ll be in a moresidemen video”, Talia asked as soon as you picked up the phone.

“Well, hello to you, too”, you laughed into the phone. “Yeah, I’ll just make sure I get my editing done by Wednesday night. Let Si know I’ll be there with you. What are we doing?”, you asked her.

“I think he wants us to do a say it or shot it. They wanted to do a lie detector but they couldn't find anyone to administer it or lend out the equipment”, she said.

“Yeah, sounds good”, you replied. “Just make sure someone tells me when and where, yeah?”.

It was Sunday evening, which meant you had 3 full days to film and edit a video that you were happy to put out. Being a a fast-growing youtuber, you tried to stick to a consistent schedule when you could. Along with streaming most nights, staying on top of your content kept you pretty busy.

“So, if I film tomorrow, I’ve got tomorrow night, Tuesday and Wednesday to edit. Need Wednesday night free for a shower to be ready for Thursday. There’s the stream with Talia tomorrow night and hopefully Gee on Tuesday. If I clear Wednesday night out... Okay. Seems good!”, you mumbled to yourself as you tried to make a game plan for the next two weeks.

Talia: youtube studio space, be there for 11am xx

Me: so im getting peppered mid-day or spilling all my secrets to like 5 million subs? lavely xx

Talia: shut up its bc you love me xx

Knowing you’d set yourself a schedule from tomorrow onwards, you set about enjoying your night. You had a bath, ordered your favourite take away and sat and watched your favourite show. The next few days were going to consist of hard work if you wanted to keep on top of streaming and getting a post-worthy video up by the end of the week.

-

By Thursday morning, you had a video you were proud to post, a few more hours of streams logged and were ready to face the moresidemen shoot in all its glory. You met Talia outside the Youtube studio space with a few minutes to spare before the guys were expecting you in there.

“You’ve not met Harry, have you?”, Talia asked as she pulled the door open for you.

“Thanks”, you smiled. “No, I think I might have been in an Among Us video with you lot that he was in, but other than that, no”, you confirmed, holding the next door for the two of you to go through.

“You can’t hide that blush from me by opening a door, Y/N”, Talia grinned, poking at your side.

“Oh, shush. Just because he’s cute...”, you trailed off, walking into large room. Immediately, you and Talia were ushered over to some of the crew, having mics strapped and clipped to you.

“Hey”, Simon said to the two of you as you finished being fitted with your mics. “Thanks for doing this”.

You were both pointed over to a table with assorted bottles on it, two Krox shot glasses and three chairs around it. There were a handful of chairs to one side of the space, a few of the guys already sitting down. “So I’m gonna ask the first questions and then the guys are probably gonna pitch in a few once those are done with”, Simon told you.

You and Talia both made noises of agreement, walking over to the chairs and sitting down. Simon started with his intro to the video, explaining what was going on and who you were. “Okay so, you either answer the question or you take a shot of your choice out of what we’ve got in front of you. We’ve got questions from instagram and twitter, and then our lovely audience are going to be able to ask questions themselves. Are we ready?”.

The questions started relatively tame, most of them were about your friendship with Talia, Gee and Freya or the guys, and most of Talia’s were about her and Simon. You didn’t even think about pouring a shot until Simon had sacked off the instagram and twitter questions for not being ‘juicy’ enough.

“What’s the weirdest sex story Y/N has told you?”, JJ asked Talia. 

“I will take this shot for you if you even consider telling anyone this”, you told Talia immediately. She rolled her eyes as she grinned at you, reaching for the vodka bottle next her shot glass and untwisting the cap. “Thank you”, you sighed.

“Y/N, what’s the story that you won’t let Talia tell us?”, Ethan asked from next to JJ, the two of them breaking out into giggles as soon as you let out a huff. You reached for the closest bottle to you, pouring out a shot and throwing it back straight away.

From then on out, the questions started going downhill. The guys kept it somewhat reined in for Talia, probably out of respect for Simon and knowing how awkward it could end up being with the two of them sat right there. You, though? No ground was left untouched.

Bra size? Asked. Favourite position? Asked. How many one night stands? Asked. Have you ever faked an orgasm? Asked. Ever had an STI? Asked. There were some questions you had to drink to just so they could make it into the video. 

Talia leaned over to Simon, tipsily giggling as she whispered something into his ear.

“Y/N”, Simon stated, setting his eyes on you. “Who’s the best looking out of the Sidemen, in your opinion?”, he asked you.

“Oh, that’s easy”, you shrugged. “Harry”, you answered bluntly. It was only when Talia’s eyes widened slightly that you realised you’d actually said it out loud. You smacked a hand over your mouth quickly. “I didn’t actually mean to say that out loud”, you whispered to Talia.

The guys had broken out into a ruckus behind you, cheering Harry and shoving him around lightly, seemingly amusing Talia and Simon. You were the only one out of the three of you with your back to the boys, and you daren’t turn around now. 

Talia leaned over to you whilst the guys were still poking at Harry. “I only got Simon to ask because Harry hasn’t stopped staring at you since you started drinking”, she whispered to you, sending you a little wink.

“I - er - think it’s about there that we wrap it up”, Simon laughed sheepishly from next to you and Talia. 

You were directed over to the same people who strapped you into your mic to help you out of it. The woman finished fiddling with the microphone on your collar and got you to turn around, bringing you face to face with Harry.

“Oh, hi”, you blushed. He smiled back, seeming surprised you were speaking to him. “I wanted to apologise, I didn’t mean to just blurt that out. I clearly drank quicker than I’m used to”, you laughed awkwardly, reaching up to scratch at your neck nervously.

“Ah, no need”, Harry laughed lightly, scratching at a spot on his upper chest. “You handed the shots really well, if you ask me. Half of how many you drank would have had most of these guys on the floor, it was quite impressive”, he told you with a smile.

“Thank you, I was terrified coming in here that I was going to make a massive fool out of myself”, you admitted.

“It’s part of being on a Sidemen shoot, unfortunately”, Harry chuckled. 

You were both finally released from your microphones and wires, being told you could go on your way by the crew members. Just as you were about to leave, you heard harsh whispers behind you. Turning around, you saw JJ and Ethan both spurring Harry on to do something.

“Uh - er. Before you leave, could I get your number?”, Harry asked quietly, hand returning to the spot on his upper chest.

You smiled, walking over to him and holding out your hand for his phone. “Of course you can”, you told him, typing your information into his contacts. “I better get a text though”, you told him cheekily.

“You can count on it”, he told you, watching as you turned to Talia and linked arms with her before walking out of the studio space.

“I so totally saw that”, she told you, poking at your side with a massive grin plastered across her face.

“Just let me be happy and tipsy, Talia”.

[the-fiction-witch]

Last Chance

MOVIE MAZE RUNNER DEATH CURE COUPLE NEWT X READER RATING SAD + SWEET

I sat myself on the little bed in my tent fiddling with the little purple ribbon in my hand moving it around my fingers, around my hand, feeling its soft but well-worn fabric. I heard footsteps close to my tent but I thought little of it until I heard three gentle but loud taps on my tent pole.

I sat up returning my ribbon into my hair, "who is it?" I asked

"Uhhh it's ummmm well" a family voice stuttered from outside the tent 

"Newt?" 

"Yes."

"Come in" I reassured as I got comfy on my bed and he quickly came in shutting the tent up behind him, he stood in his boots, his loose cargo pants, his old dusty brown shirt and that fluffy jacket all clothes from the right arm that he had happily adopted post scorch and all. I noticed his hair was out of place not just from the fact it desperately needed a cut, but where he had clearly been fiddling with it in fact his fingers ran through it again as he stood on my rug tossing his weight from foot to foot in both nerves and clearly his bad leg was hurting him more so than usual. I noticed too he was missing the holsters he usually never parted with but his capsule was still around his neck even if he wouldn't tell me why he started wearing it. 

"Hello" he smiled actually waving at me even though he literally is stood in my tent to feet from my bed 

"Hello" I giggled giving him a little wave too "something you wanted newt?"

"Ohhh uhhhhh… kinda" 

"Kinda?" I asked giving him a glare he wrinkled his nose a little his head slightly turning to the side like a confused puppy and he shrugged his shoulders "come on" I smiled tapping my bed beside me 

"You sure?" 

"Like you haven't ever sat on my bed before newt" I chuckled which made him crack a small smile too before he came and sat on my bed beside me his hands together fiddling with his own fingers 

"I wanted to talk to you once"

I was.. admittedly paused for a moment at his words "I imagine you've wanted to talk to me a lot of times. I have known you almost four years now newt" 

"I know, but… I wanted to have This. Conversation with you once before"

"When?" I asked almost trying to guess

"The night before we left," he says, barely looking at me, his eye squarely on my rug and it was rightfully intimidated. "I stood passing up and down outside your door for… what must have been hours. I'm surprised there wasn't a little track where I was walking."

"Why didn't you tell me this then?"

"I ran out of time." He answered, "I passed and passed and then the sun came up."

"You could have still told me even if the sun was up."

"I couldn't, I knew I was out of time and honestly… I felt awful. I wasted what I thought could have been my only chance. But I guess I got lucky to get another one." He smiled "y/n. Tomorrow I'm leaving."

"Leaving!"

"Shhh"

"Leaving? Newt but… to go where?"

"To the last city. With Tommy" 

"You're going after Minho aren't you?"

"We are. Hopefully, we can bring him home" 

"That'd be nice. I miss him too" I sighed leaning my head on newts shoulder a little

"I know you do. Y/n. I won't be coming back"

"What?"

"I won't be coming back."

"Why not? It'll just be a little trip you boys will be fine, you'll have Tommy and fry to keep you safe, just a quick little trip there and back nothing you haven't done before"

"Y/n. Even if I did come back I can't stay here. They'll find out sooner or later. So… once minho's safe I'll slip away"

"Find out about what?"

".... Do you remember when we first escaped? And they started testing us?"

"I do"

"And that doctor … gave me some medicine?"

"In your arm yeah" I nodded glancing to his forearm where I vaguely remember a doctor once giving him something

"I… I don't know if it was international. If he knew or not. But, apparently, not all of us are immune like you and Tommy. And I don't know if it was something in the medicine, the needle, or maybe it was just because it was an open wound when we went out into the scorch but… that's where it took hold."

"What took hold?" 

"This." He says, slipping his Jacket off, rolling his sleeves up, exposing his forearm to me. Almost to the inch where that needle had pricked him so long ago black prominent veins trickled and grew across his skin like roots thought earth, they had yet to reach his wrist or his elbow but it was clearly growing fast 

"How long have you been hiding this?"

"It started…. Just before we left the compound"

"What?"

"The wicked compound, before we met with aris. It wasn't healing but I tried not to worry, thinking maybe all the time in the maze I was a little… deficient in things so maybe I'd take long. In the old shopping centre, it was bad but I didn't want to lick up. But the time we met Brenda I… I couldn't even bear to look at my arm. It's been getting worse ever since. It started so slow but… this wasn't there yesterday." He explained showing me carefully what had come at what time 

"It's getting worse. And faster." I spoke up "who knows about this?"

"I do. And you do."

"Newt we have to-"

"No. They'll throw me out. They don't want a crank running around their camp. I'll be gone tomorrow anyway no point making them panic now" 

"So… you're just gonna go? Get the cure when you get Minho" 

"Wicked doesn't have a cure y/n we both know that" 

"Then… where will you go?"

"I've heard about this, crank palace. On the radio a few times I'm sure if I just keep walking someone will pick me up and shove me there sooner or later. Or maybe they'll just be merciful and put a bullet in my head" 

"Please don't make me think about that newt."

"I'm sorry."

"What did you want to tell me? This can't be what you wanted to say before we left the maze?"

"... Well I…"

"Newt. Please just tell me." I begged holding his hand 

"I. I love you."

"You what?"

"I love you. I really really think I love you. The first moment I saw you climb out the box in that stupid little purple bow I just… you made my stomach churn and my heart jump but, in a good way." He explained "I just whenever you would walk by I felt like I was flying, the more time I spent with you the more I just wanted to be with you, I'd lay awake at night in my hammock daydreaming about kissing you and telling you everything I had ever wanted to tell you. I wasted that chance before, I cried really cried that morning when I saw the sun I thought I'd die and that I'd lost the once chance I had to tell you how I felt about you. And… I can't waste this one now. Because if I don't tell you now I know I won't ever be able to tell you" he says 

"Ohh newt, why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I just… I just couldn't"

"Ohh. You stupid STUPID! blonde British boy!" I yelled tears welling up in my eyes resting my hands on each of his cheeks pulling his face close to mine giving his lips an intense kiss he was frozen for a few good seconds his blood pumping fast until he melted his whole body relaxing, his arms moved to cradle my waist pulling me into the biggest coziest hug I had ever felt but not tight not like he was squeezing me against him, more like he held me afraid of losing me forever. He turned his head a little bit to aid our kisses comfort, kissing me back as gently as I kissed him, I moved my hands down to rest on his shoulders holding his shirt in my fingers. He pulled back only just enough to breathe his nose still against mine his hand came to stroke my cheek and neck as he muttered between soft kisses 

"I love you. I love you. I love you so so much" he cooes, giving my lips a kiss between each declare. 

[raineydays411]

The Best of Friends pt4

Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Jason Todd x Stark!reader

Summary:  After the disastrous weekend, you and Peter are going through a rough patch. It doesn’t help that he seems to get set off whenever Pietro or Jason was around.

<A/n: Hey yall, sorry about posting this so late! I’ve just been really stressed with school and life. This is a bit shorter than usual but stay tuned!

After that horrible day out, you were glad to get some time off with your dad. Or at least you were, until it was revealed that he had yet another meeting with Mr. Wayne.

“I’m sorry kiddo, I promise as soon as I’m done its gonna be just you and me” Your dad says with a frown. Then he kisses your forehead, ruffles your hair, and walks out of your room. You sigh and flop back down on your bed. You really were looking forward to spending time with your dad. Plus, you couldn’t even bother anyone else on the team as everyone was on a mission or something.

“Ms. Stark, there seems to be a group of boys outside your door.” FRIDAY says suddenly, scaring the crap out of you. 

“Pull up the security footage Fri” 

On your table you can see Jason, Tim, and Damian. They seemed to be arguing about something, Jason looking annoyed as usual. You tell FRIDAY to play the audio.

“Don’t be an idiot Todd, if she wanted to come out she would have by now, besides, it seems like she’s tolerated your presence enough for a night.”

“Shut up demon. Why are you even here if you’re so sure she doesn’t want to talk to us.”

“I have my reasons”

“Aww do you have a crush Dami?”

“Shut your mouth Drake”

“No I think you’re on to something replacement...you got a crush on my girl, demon?”

“Oh don’t be delusional Todd, a woman of that caliber wouldn’t be fooled by your cheap flirtation tactics.”

Geez, you forgot how...proper Damian was.

“Wait...my girl” You think to yourself, blushing slightly at the thought. You get up from your bed and quickly run to your closet, looking for more presentable clothes than your dads ratty Led Zeppelin shirt. You finally found a striped long sleeve shirt and some overall shorts. You take the bonnet off of your head and let your curls out into a fro. 

You wait a few seconds, watching the boys argue some more and then quickly open the door. 

The sudden silence and wide eyes of the three boys makes you laugh out loud.

“Hello boys” you say with a smirk.

Damian turns a deep red, stuttering out a hello before looking down at the ground, Tim just smiles and waves, and Jason smirks back.

“Hey doll”

“Ew. that’s what Bucky calls me: you say with a snort. Tim and Damian snicker at Jason fail and he turns around to glare at them. 

“So..did you need anything or..”

Before Jason can speak up, Damian beats him to it.

“Yes, we were wondering if you would like to accompany us while our fathers are at the meeting?” He smiles looking up at you with big eyes.

You find this adorable, “ Aw, of course! I’d love to spend time with you” 

You ruffle his hair, then turn around to get your phone and shoes. As you turn your back, you miss the smirk Damian throws to Jason and the glare Jason sends back. 

Putting on your shoes, you walk back up to the boys, “Okay ready! What did you guys wanna do?”

“There’s a new interactive exhibit at the  Science museum...” Tim suggests fiddling with his phone. 

“Sounds boring.” Jason drawls as he walks round your room examining your knick knacks and pictures. Damian scoffs at his older brother.

“Have you no class? I’m sure  Ms. Stark does not appreciate you rummaging through her belongings.” 

“Oh, Damian you can call me Y/n, we’re all friends here.” You quickly say, trying to stop an argument before it started. “ And Tim, I haven’t been to the Science Museum since I was a kid, so I’d love to go”

“Oh great, we get to go to the nerd museum..” Jason mutters. 

“You calling me a nerd Todd?” You tease

“Well, if the shoe fits, Princess” 

You roll your eyes and walk out of the room, “Whatever, come on boys we don’t have all day.”

As you walk, you can hear the three boys squabbling quietly behind you. You let out a small laugh, amused by their antics. 

Walking into the common room, you pass by Wanda and Pietro, who were sitting on the couch watching some show. 

“Hey guys!” You greet, with a warm smile.

“Y/n!” Wanda beams, pausing the tv as she turns to you, “ There you are! I was looking for you earlier-” “WE were looking for you earlier.” 

Pietro cuts in with a smile. Wanda glares at him for interrupting her. 

“Yes, we were.” She continues.

“Oh,” You say, “ Whats up?”

Wanda pats the seat next to her, in between her and Pietro. 

“Tell us, how did your day out go yesterday?” 

“Yes, did the spider boy finally confess his feelings for you” Pietro teases. 

You sit down in between them with a sigh. You give Wanda a look that has her shaking her head.

“Oh no, what happened?” She asks, frowning.

“He’s going to homecoming with Liz..” You say, eyes watering at the memory. 

“That idiot.” Pietro mutters, “ I saw his face when I kissed your forehead! He was jealous!” 

“I don’t think so Piet..” You mutter, looking down, “ I think he just didn’t expect us to be friends.” 

“ Well what else happened?” Wanda asks rubbing your arm softly

“ He didn’t talk to me all day, and when he did it was after Liz left. Plus he was really rude to Jason”

Wanda arched an eyebrow at that. “ He ignored you?!” 

“ Yeah... and then towards the end of the night he acted like he was mad at ME. Can you believe that”

Pietro shook his head and Wanda looked irritated. 

“Don’t worry Y/n, sooner or later he’ll get his head out of his ass. You shouldn’t waste your time over him.”

“i know..I just--” “ Y/N! Are you ready? Bruce let me borrow the car!” 

Jason, Tim, and Damian ran in to the room panting and pushing each other.

You laugh, “ Yeah yeah, should I even get in a car with you driving it Jaybird?” 

“Aw come on iron baby, I’ll let you sit in the front”

You smile, and turn to Wanda, “ I better go before those three murder somebody” 

She looks at Pietro who was smirking, then turns to you with a smile 

“ Yes, you better hurry along,have fun!” 

You thank her and skip along towards the boys. The four of you running to the elevator. 

“I bet you five bucks the big one is going to fall in love with her.”

“You’re on.”

..........

“When did you kiss her forehead?”

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

You all finally make it to the museum, Jason had accidently taken a wrong turn and traffic in New York is absolute hell. But you made it. 

Walking in you looked around in awe. You smile as you took in the environment, remembering the times you and your father used to come.

“So, what do you wanna do first princess?” Jason asks placing his arm around your shoulder. You glance at the arm then at him, but don’t make any moves to remove it. 

“Well, I loved seeing the natural science exhibit, maybe we can start there?” you say hopefully. 

“A wonderful idea” Damian says, grabbing your hand and dragging you off to the exhibit, “ Come Y/n, would you mind showing me your favorite parts of the exhibit?”

“Of course not Damian!” you say cheerfully, letting the pre-teen drag you away. You didn’t notice Jason huff and glare at the child, nor did you see Tim stifle a laugh and pat Jason on the back.

You and Damian walk side by side admiring the different exhibits and conversing about your childhoods. 

“I miss being able to be out freely” You say facing a replica dinosaur “After dad became Iron Man, it was like the whole world was watching even closer, and it was too dangerous to be outside..”

Damian nodded, “You do not attend regular school?” 

“No, not since I was a child”

“Father forced me to attend Gotham academy after I moved in with him. He said I needed to ‘socialize’”

You laugh at the annoyed tone Damian had, “ Well, at least he cares”

“Yes, I suppose. It’s better than living with mother, that I am certain of.”

“Moms suck.” You mutter looking away, “ Who needs them.”

Damian looks at you shocked, a bitter tone took over the previous light heartedness of the conversation. That’s when Jason and Tim caught up to the two of you. 

“There you are, we’ve been looking all over” Tim said handing Damian a water.

“And yet you had time to stop for refreshments” Damian deadpanned, taking the water with a roll of his eyes. 

“ And stop at the gift shop” Jason added with a cheeky smile, “ Here sweetheart”

Your face burns, both at the name and gift. It was a little necklace of an atom. 

“Thank you” You say, “Put it on me?” 

Jason unclasps the necklace and steps behind you. You gather your hair, and tense as you feel his warmth behind you and his warm hands gently brushing against your neck. He struggles with the clasp for a bit before finally tying it. 

“There” Jason says as you turn to face him, ‘ Gorgeous as always, Ms.Stark”

You go to respond when you hear a voice

“Y/n?”

You turn, only to see Peter and Ned staring at you and Jason with shocked faces.

[hotchseyebrows]

thoughtfulness in little things

a derek morgan x penelope garcia fic

a/n: can you believe that is my first ever full length morcia fic? me? resident morcia nut? wow. what a world. anyway!! i hope yall like this (and if you noticed it was already on ao3 earlier today shhh this is a scheduled tumblr post im Sleeping rn) and hopefully i dont take 4 months in between posting fics again, but i make no promises!!! my brain is Evil

thank you @blkantigone for being my beta and thank you @derekmorqan for letting me barf 1k of this in our dms a while back, i love you both sm

they do kiss a fair bit in this (it is, in fact, a first kiss fic) and its a little steamy, but by no means explicit and is rated teens and up on ao3 :)

read it here on ao3!!

Penelope splutters. “Sugar, you don’t have to stay here with me, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

He shrugs. “How am I supposed to party when my best girl is stuck at work?”

-

Everything changes during a late night in Penelope's batcave. But really, nothing changes at all.

word count: 3000

Friday nights without a case are a rare treasure for SSA Hotchner’s highly sought after team of profilers. Normally, Derek and Penelope would be taking advantage of the freedom by dancing all night, but sometimes the universe has other plans. 

Penelope used this week’s case-free time to put the finishing touches on an antivirus and security software of her own creation. The personal information of her beloved BAU babies was a hot commodity well worth the additional protection, and she’s always looking for a reason to fiddle with Quantico’s servers. It ended up being a whole production, taking the entire afternoon and then some. Apparently, she still doesn’t have all of the permissions required to make certain adjustments which means that she’s fiddling and bending her way into all of the things she needs to do. If that wasn’t bad enough, the whole damn thing crashed around 4:00. She managed not to pull her hair out, but it was a close thing and it set her back at least an extra hour.

Derek stops by a little after 5, his jacket slung over his shoulder. “Baby girl, I can hear the bottles of DC’s finest vodka and Hennessy calling our names, are you almost ready to leave for the day?” He pauses in the door, taking in her furious typing and furrowed brow. “Whoa, Mama, what’s the matter? You’ve got Hotch’s eyebrows.”

She throws her arms up. “The entirety of the FBI and also the world is getting on my nerves!” He walks over to her, leaning on the side of her chair and turning her away from her monitor. His hands gently grab both of hers and he rubs a soothing circle with one of his thumbs. 

“Explain, baby girl.” 

She does, eventually just ranting and raving about how annoying it is to still be put in metaphorical handcuffs by the FBI as if she can’t just do what she wants anyway. “I’m not even breaking any rules, technically, they’re just making things annoying and long winded.” She sighs, moving her hands to interlock their fingers. “But now that it’s started, it would be doubly annoying to stop it and come back later. So I’m stuck here until it’s done, which might take a while.”

He nods, thinking. Then he straightens up, grabs the extra rolling chair, and sits down. 

Penelope splutters. “Sugar, you don’t have to stay here with me, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

He shrugs. “How am I supposed to party when my best girl is stuck at work?” She blushes, turning away to hide it on instinct. 

“You cheeseball.” She spins around to lightly push on his arm. He just smiles. 

They sit together for 20 minutes in relative silence as she continues her work. It’s a comfortable silence; his occasional humming soothes her rising annoyance at how needlessly long this is taking. She can hear him playing with one of the fidget toys she keeps on her desk behind him. When she gets to another point of sitting and waiting, she turns towards him and asks him about his day. He tells her about how Prentiss helped him get Reid back for a prank by distracting him in the break room while he switched out the keyboard of Reid’s computer with an identical one with a grass garden planted inside. “It’s a long con for sure, but I’m hoping it sprouts this weekend.”

She laughs. “How long did it take you to set this up, dumpling?” She already knows the answer, but it’s nice to see his slightly sheepish but proud look about his dedication to his prank war. Her computer beeps at her, and she spins back around to begin working again.

He rolls closer, avoiding her question and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You getting hungry yet?”

She relaxes, leaning against him. As if on cue, her stomach grumbles. “Yes, I’d say so.”

He leans over and moves a strand of hair out of her face. “Okay baby girl, I’ll go grab us food and be right back.” She nods, lifting her cheek on instinct to meet the kiss she knows is coming. He stands and sure enough, leans down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be quick. Be good.”

“How can I do anything else if you’re not here?” She bats her eyes up at him. 

He grins. “Oh, I’m sure you’d think of something.” He brushes his knuckles against her cheek. It makes her shiver.

She watches him leave, catching the kiss he blows at her from the door. Turning back to focus on her work, it feels like she blinks and he’s back. A glance at the clock tells her it’s been over a half hour. He puts the bag of food onto the table before coming to pull her away from the computer. 

“One minute, I promise, I’m so close to just letting this thing run for a little.” He twirls her hair around his fingers before dropping his hands onto her shoulders, rubbing away the tension. A minute and a half later, she leans back in her chair with a sigh. She tilts her head back and sticks her tongue out at him. He smiles at her. 

"Come eat, baby girl. Don't think you're getting out of eating my hard won dinner." He moves to the table and pulls out her chair. She follows and sits.

"Hard won — mon cher, you didn't tackle a wild animal and lug it home to our log cabin in the woods, you drove your car 20 minutes."

He kisses her temple, handing her a pair of chopsticks. "Yeah, but I would lug home whatever you needed anytime, so the sentiment is the same."

She smiles and knocks their feet together under the table lightly. He moves his chair, so they are sitting right next to each other on the same side of the table. The heat from his arm is palpable.

Derek grabs a box from the bag and splits the vegan pad thai within onto two paper plates. He opens the box of spring rolls and places it in between them while she places napkins in front of them both. He pops the cap off of her bottle of lemonade without her asking, and sets that in front of her too. “Thank you, handsome.” He smiles in response. They start eating and the comfortable silence returns. 

She talks him through what she still needs to do to fix everything in between bites, even though she knows he doesn't really understand her technobabble. But Penelope can feel his eyes on her, and without looking, she somehow knows that something has shifted in the air around them.

"What?" she asks, turning her attention away from gesturing at her computer with the chopsticks. "Do I have something on my face?"

He chuckles. "Actually, yes, c'mere." He brushes away a stray spot of sauce on the corner of her lips with a gentle swipe of his thumb. The rest of his hand stills on her cheek. She shivers. She can see him notice it, his attention focusing in on her. Penelope's blood is thundering in her ears as he glances in between her lips and her eyes.

She leans purposefully into his hand. His thumb brushes over her lips again and her mouth falls open a little. 

"Penelope, I-" he cuts himself off with a hard swallow. "Penelope." His eyes flicker down to her lips and back up to her eyes quickly again.

She can only blink at him for a moment. "Yes, Derek?"

"I don't kn- um. Can I-" She's never seen him flustered and unsure like this. But they've never been out of sync before and they aren't about to start now, so she nods, bringing up a hand to rest on his. A smile grows on his face before he starts to lean in. His hand slides along her cheek to more firmly grip her face- it makes her gasp.

He pauses, thinking something is wrong. "Penelope, are y-" Her heart swells at how careful he is to take care of her always, and she meets him in the middle, pressing their lips together in a soft, purposeful kiss.

For a moment, all is still. The world boils down to just the place where their lips are touching. Their lips barely brush against one another, but already Penelope feels light headed. Derek separates their lips for a moment before kissing her again, a firmer touch this time. She sucks in a breath through her nose. His lips are incredibly kind- that’s the only word for it. He doesn’t seem to know the word “take” right now because all she can feel from him is “give.” As he presses into the kiss and gently cups the side of her face, her brain wildly spins through thoughts about how of course he’s like this even when kissing her and how good he smells and how she can’t believe they haven’t done this sooner.

He draws her closer against him, pressing into the kiss more insistently before bringing his other hand up to her face and holding her. His fingers move to cup the sides of her neck and she tilts her head to the left a touch, letting her mouth fall open in a sigh. He makes a soft noise before tentatively sliding their tongues together. A full body shiver runs down her spine and through her limbs. Another small noise falls from the back of his throat. Her stomach swoops like they've just dropped down the side of a huge arch in a roller coaster. She places both hands on his chest, pressing forward. He moves with her, chair squeaking underneath him as he presses closer, one arm snaking around her back. Penelope’s heart pounds even louder. His tongue is gentle even in its insistence as their kiss turns slightly desperate. 

It feels like someone has lit a fire underneath Penelope’s chair, warmth washing over her whole body and radiating out from everywhere they touch. One of his hands tangles into her hair as he gently tilts her head back. If she wasn’t sitting her knees would have buckled so long ago, but now she would absolutely be on the floor. It’s no surprise that Derek Morgan is an incredible kisser, but knowing something and knowing something is so different. 

He pulls back, letting their foreheads rest together. Her eyes stay closed, tingles radiating from everywhere his fingers are tenderly holding her face. She tightens her grip on his shirt. He kisses the tip of her nose. "You still with me, baby girl?"

She nods, breathless. She slowly opens her eyes and smiles at him. "Hi." It's the first thing she thinks to say. 

He laughs. "Hey you."

She has so many questions- how long have you wanted to do that, can we do that again right now, can we do so much more right now, right here- but before she can ask any of them, her computer beeps loudly. "Oh!" She jumps at the sudden noise. He drops his hands and leans back, looking far too much like the cat who got the cream. "I should- right, I should deal with that," she says, standing on shaky legs. Heels were never so precarious. Of course, there is no hiding from a profiler.

He grins up at her. "Need some assistance?" His eyes are shining like he's hiding a joke. She scrunches her nose at him, biting back a smile.

"Oh, hush you. I’m perfectly capable of walking 3 feet, thank you very much." Her tenacity is a little undercut from the way her hands are trembling a little as she smooths her skirt, but still. The point remains.

He raises his hands in surrender. "Alright baby girl, go on then."

She walks over to her computer and stays standing to fiddle with the wires behind it before bending over at the keyboard and reading the report on the screen. "It shouldn't be much longer now, it just needs to run the last new anti-virus- what?" He's leaning back in his seat and staring at her, a small smile dancing on his lips.

"What, Mama?" But he knows what, clearly evident from the way he is trying to school his expression into something innocent.

She blushes. "Derek Morgan, I don't know what I'm going to do if you keep looking at me like that."

"Oh, I don't know. I might have some ideas."

She sucks in a sharp inhale through her nose. Playing nonchalant, she turns back to her computer. "Well, I might have to hear your ideas out."

"Yeah?" 

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye and he's grinning.

"Yeah." she says, not trusting what will come out of her mouth if she elaborates (probably something along the lines of “I’d listen to all your ideas, do your ideas include any semblance of forever, if you keep grinning like that I'm gonna lock the door and do something reckless”).

They sit in relative silence, just the sounds of her typing filling the room. When she finishes, she spins her chair around. "Hi," she says again.

"Hi baby," he responds.

Her fingers twist and curl the hem of her skirt. "So, uh, well, that's gonna take at least another 30 minutes to finish running."

He raises one eyebrow. "30 minutes, huh?" 

She nods. "Might be a good time for some of those ideas." 

He stands and walks across the room to her. She takes his offered hand and stands as well. They stay there, inches apart and holding hands as the charged atmosphere around them seems to crackle. In the same breath, they lean in to kiss again. Both of her arms wrap around his neck as he tucks his around her waist. He pulls her against him, fully pressed together as the soft kiss deepens into something heated and desperate.

He bites her bottom lip gently before the kiss turns open mouthed and slick. She arches against him as they slide into a slow rhythm. She feels fluttery, like his arms are the only anchor point in the whole world and if he let her go, she’d simply float away. He tastes like lemonade, sweet and alive. She hums as he tracks his hands in a slow circle at the base of her spine. Her knees really do buckle a little as he attempts to tug her closer, but he holds her steady. She rests a hand on his cheek and grounds herself by using the other to grip the back of his neck. She’s utterly swallowed up by him, his arms and his mouth and just him surrounding her in their own little cocoon. He separates their mouths to kiss across her jaw and down her neck, hands flattening on her back. He places a line of long kisses down to the crook of her neck. She lets out a sigh, letting her head fall to the side to give him more room. He sinks his teeth into the same spot lightly, and she shudders. 

"Derek," she whispers. She can feel his smile against his skin as he kisses the same place again.

They slow to a stop, tucked against each other. He rests his face against her neck and mumbles something against her skin. "Hmm honey?" she says, hand rubbing a circle on the nape of his neck.

"I got us that Talenti ice cream you like," he says, only moving enough to be heard. “Chocolate peanut butter cup, and the color changing spoons are still in the break room.”

"Oh Der, that's so sweet, you didn't have to do all of that." Her heart skips a beat. 

He shrugs, kissing the side of her neck. "I wanted to."

She is half tempted to haul him in for another kiss, but as if on cue, her stomach grumbles. He picks his head up and smiles at her. "Come eat now," he says before giving her another quick peck. 

She lets him pull her to the table, but before they sit, she pulls him in again. He chuckles into the kiss.  "Eat, you menace." He mumbles against her lips. Pulling back, he plants a kiss on the apple of her cheek as he guides her into her seat.

She bites a retort about how she was trying to but he sees it on her face anyway. 

"Later, baby girl. Dinner first."

“Then dessert?” She tilts her head and gives him a flirty smile. 

He runs his thumb along her bottom lip. “All the dessert you want, Penelope.”

Much the same as before, they eat in comfortable silence. Except this time he rests a hand on her thigh, and traces a slow lazy circle with his thumb. The conversation picks back up and turns to unrelated things. Derek muses about possible retaliations from Spencer once he notices his new desk plants as he casually offers her a bite from his plate. She takes it, humming.

Something Penelope did not realize had lost its footing resettles in her chest. Nothing is different, not in any way that would scare her or be a loss. They are just the same as they've always been, but also more. (Though she'd be hard pressed to think of a time when this wasn't the way they were. Maybe things are just being unveiled, not changed.) 

When they finish eating, he goes to get the ice cream and two of the fun spoons from the break room. They split the pint and laugh far too loudly for how late it is. The computer beeps for a final time, software finally fully uploaded and settled. She still has to run tests and double check that everything is working, but that can wait. Derek offers her a bite of ice cream, and if he kisses her again to remove the ice cream from her bottom lip, she can't say she minds.

[bringingglory]

@eerna oh my god acshdgagaahhdvsahsv I never expected you to see my post, so I won't lie, I feel like super embarrassed acsgsga

anyway! not gonna lie, this wip has been sitting in my drafts for months now because I wanted to see if I could plan stuff but then I got stuck because Details are hard to figure out BUT I did write out a few scenes, so I'll put them below the cut because they're kind of long. the first one is the "opening" of the fic and the second one is a sort of reimagining of the Silent Princess memory. i have a few other scenes sort of scribbled out, but these are the most "polished" of the stuff i've written alsdkfjasdfk

the opening lol

Link wakes to a faint buzzing in his ear that sends little darts of pain shooting through his skull. He waits for it to end, and when it doesn’t he groans and rolls over, smacking the space around him to find whatever was making that noise and make it shut up. He can’t fathom why his brain is rolling through his skull like that and why there’s an intense pressure behind his eyes, but when he rolls onto his side, he has to press a hand to his abdomen to settle whatever was sloshing around inside his stomach.

Ah. He’s hungover.

Link peels open his eyes and the light sends a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through his skull. He blinks once, twice, and then forces his eyes open to find a phone the size vibrating against the ground a few inches away from his hand.

Link groans and pushes himself up to a sitting position before grabbing the phone and dismissing the alarm. When the phone falls silent in his hands, he finally looks around and tries to assess the situation.

He’s sitting in a bathtub, the porcelain slightly damp from what he hopes is just water. His shirt smells vaguely of cheap vodka and he still can barely look at the sunlight streaming through the window without wincing.

A moment later, he realizes the phone in his hands isn’t his.

Link holds the phone up to his face and rubs the grogginess from his eyes. He swipes up on the screen, surprised that it isn’t protected by a password.

The phone is open on note in the notes app, and it reads:

link, if you’re reading this right now, im so sorry for leaving you in the tub like that!!! my dad’s supposed to come home from the office today and the document case i was telling you about is missing and he cant know i lost it. i know we just started getting along, and im so sorry to ask you this, but could you find the document case? impa’s in my contacts and she can help you. also you have permission to dig through my phone, just dont judge me if i have anything embarrassing on there. can you find the file by midnight? his flight leaves at 3 and i can stall him until then.

it’s 6:11 right now so i have to run before he gets back, but please hurry! i’ll be waiting for you

-zelda

Link blinks and turns the phone off.

Last night? What happened last night? Why can’t he remember anything?

Well, if his raging headache tells him anything, it’s that he had probably blacked out last night.

Link isn’t usually a drinker or a partier. He isn’t really one to go to big social events. So he’s really confused as to why he woke up passed out in a tub with zero memories.

And also, why Zelda left her phone with him.

a version of the Silent Princess memory but they're at a party and its modern

Zelda laughs. “I think I got a little too sober from the Yiga incident to enjoy the party now.”

Link isn’t sure if he’s supposed to laugh with her, but nods anyway. “Do you want to get some air?”

Zelda gives him an odd look, then sighs. “Yeah. Yes. That would be a good idea.”

Surprisingly, she grabs his forearm and leads him through all the bodies pressed against each other. He can feel the heat of her hand wrapping entirely around his arm like a hot glove, even above the heat of the late summer air and the heat from other people in close proximity.

Somehow, they make it to the other side of the house. Zelda pushes the back door open and pulls him past the other stragglers outside before they find a nice tree with a patch of grass that seems generally clear of alcohol and vomit.

Zelda releases his arm as soon as she finds the tree and she sits down, dropping her head against the trunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Zelda waves her hand vaguely.

Link pauses. “Do you need water?”

“If you get me any more water, I’m probably gonna piss myself,” says Zelda. “Sit down.”

He sits down.

The crickets hum vaguely around them, mingling with the distant buzzing and thumping bass of the music from the party. But without people pressing in from all sides and an open field in front of them, it finally feels like he can take a full breath.

The silence settles over them like a blanket. It feels comfortable to him, but he isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be.

“Oh, Link, look.”

Link cranes his head to see Zelda twist around and point out a blue flower glowing vaguely in the dark. It was beautiful with blue petals so light they looked almost white, and a sky blue bleeding out from the center before fading out.

He wants to give her a questioning look, but she’s transfixed on the flower. He can see the smallest of smiles creeping up onto the corners of her mouth.

“It’s a Silent Princess,” she says. “It was my mom’s favorite flower.”

He can tell something important is happening, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“She said that we can’t grow them domestically yet, despite our best efforts.” Zelda breaks into a full smile and it’s radiant. “The Princess can only thrive out here. In the wild.”

They both turn to look back at the house as another loud WHOOP cuts through the air, followed by the sound of a can being crushed against a head.

“Nature is beautiful,” says Link.

Zelda swats him and he has to bite back a laugh.

She turns and runs a gentle finger along one of the petals before sighing and leaning back against the tree.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly. “For being there with the Yiga. And for being there the whole party.” He can hear her swallow. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“You weren’t being a bitch,” says Link.

“I was, though.” Zelda inhales beside him. “I mean, just because I’m under a lot of stress from my dad doesn’t mean I’m allowed to take it out on other people. I was acting like a kid.”

“To be fair, your dad sounds like an asshole sometimes.”

Zelda snorts. “Yeah. He can be.” He turns his head to see her lean forward to fiddle with the grass. “But he’s got a lot on his plate. And it probably doesn’t help that his daughter doesn’t want anything to do with his ‘legacy.’”

“Just because your dad’s under a lot of pressure doesn’t mean he’s allowed to be an asshole,” Link points out.

Zelda finally looks up at him and offers him a small grin. “Fair enough.”

“And besides, you’re your own person. You don’t need to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s what I said,” huffs Zelda. “But of course it’s, ‘blah blah you have a responsibility. I didn’t raise you like this so you could waste your time researching pointless things.’” She sighs. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. I came to this stupid party to blow off steam, I guess. But Goddess, I did not eat enough today to drink that many cans of shitty beer.”

Link sits upright, alert. “Do you need to get food or—”

“No, no, that’s fine.” And that smile returns and Link wonders what else he can say to make it stay. “You’re sweet. But I’ve probably gotten drunk enough tonight.” Her eyes slide up to him and the mischief in them stops his heart for a moment. “You still have to try the Hot Frog.”

Link blinked. “...what is that?”

--

the endings are abrupt on both of them just bc i wasn't entirely sure how to end them akldjfasd. also the "Hot Frog" is gonna be some kind of mixed drink that gets link really drunk -- me trying to allude more to the original memory from the game haha

anyway, thank you so much for the ask! and thank u for coming up with the shitpost because it made me laugh the first time i read it hasdklfj hopefully i'll continue this one day and do ur shitpost au justice!

[buckybarnesbabydoll]

Lost and Found: Chapter 2

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warning(s): none <3

Word count: 2,000+

Summary: You teach the Mandalorian how to ride a blurrg, and you have a strange dream after he's gone...

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Note(s): i hope you guys enjoy this next part! i'm new to writing fanfics so pls go easy on me <3 I might try to make this a little bit of a slow burn fic too, also this part is now posted on my ao3!

The following day, you stood behind the ropes of the circle where you tame blurrgs. The Mandalorian has been trying to ride the same blurrg that attacked him the day before. He’s been trying since early morning and judging by the placement of the sun, as well as his groans in frustration, he hasn’t made a lot of progress. Kuiil was watching from inside the tent for a little bit, before leaving the rest to you so he could work on another one of his projects. You had your hood pulled over your head to keep the sun from beating down on you, leaning on one of the poles while you watched this hopeless lesson.

One arm resting on the wooden cylinder, while the other absentmindedly fiddled with the necklace you had on. It was a simple leather rope that was wrapped around a crystal. You found it interesting how that crystal became your favorite color, or perhaps your favorite color was because of the crystal. The only thing you knew about it was that you’ve had it since you were a baby, never being away from it. Even taking it off for a second made you feel vulnerable. At this point it was a part of you, the only thing binding you to your past, which was still muddled in smoke and mirrors.

Hearing the blurrg squawk and growl brought you back to the mess in front of you. You tried teaching the Mandalorian the same way Kuiil showed you how to ride, but now you’re learning that maybe everyone learns a little differently… It wasn’t that he wasn’t able to mount the creature, it’s that it wouldn’t let him stay on. Throwing him off at any attempt or scurrying away to different parts of the circle, it’s been a bit of a goose chase to watch. You couldn’t blame it though, he did try to burn it alive, or so that’s what Kuiil told you when he found the Mandalorian. But you had to admit, seeing a Mandalorian, who were revered for their strength in battle, get thrown around like a ragdoll was a little funny.

After getting bucked off into the dirt for the umpteenth time that day, the armored man exclaimed a ‘Dank Farrik!’ and stood up. Almost stomping towards you in a fed-up cadence with his arms swinging from irritation. You could almost perfectly imagine his expression underneath that helmet.

“Alright, this isn’t working. Do you have a speeder bike or anything else I can use to get there? I’ll pay you,” the modulation didn’t hide any of his feelings either, you bit your lip to keep from chuckling at his suffering.

“Sorry, we don’t have anything like that,” you swore he rolled his eyes under that helmet, unable to believe there wasn’t any other form of transportation besides those oversized land piranhas. “Perhaps try approaching it more… gently.” The silver helmet looked at you again, a brief silence before repeating you.

“Gently?” There was a slightly incredulous tone to the question. He’s been trying almost every method all morning, sowhywasn’tanythingworking.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “your methods are too blunt for it. It’s scared,” you gestured to the blurrg that was pacing on the other side of the circle.

“Scared of what? It attacked me,” you shrugged in response, looking at the distorted reflection of yourself on the beskar.

“At least try and approach more passively.” He sighed, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to try it your way. It was something different after trying forever. The Mandalorian moved closer to the blurrg, holding up his hands with his palms facing towards the creature. The blurrg started to act anxious again, watching his movements. But he gently shushed the creature, displaying his body language as less threatening as he scooted closer.

As the blurrg seemed to further relax, he quickly grabbed the reins and got up on its back again. You held your breath as you watched him climb up, and as the moments passed the creature seemed to start walking around like normal again. You cheered a little bit, since this was the first time you’ve taught someone how to ride a blurrg, you weren’t exactly sure how it was going to turn out. Fortunately, your first (and hopefully, last) attempt at teaching was a success. Thankfully, he didn’t die!

“Alright! Now let’s get you to your bounty!”

After the success of the Mandalorian learning how to ride a blurrg, you promptly hopped on yours to guide the way, where his bounty was waiting for him. You rode through the desert planet, hopping over fissures in the ground and riding across large swaths of cracked mud. You found it sort of fascinating how the cracks sometimes appeared hexagonal, how something so monotonous could be interesting to you, you’d never know. Again, it was hard to find a lot interesting on this desert planet. Your mind drifted off to different places on your ride there since the bounty hunter you were guiding was a man of few words. Well, at least when he wasn’t frustrated. You didn’t know a whole lot about Mandalorians, but you were sure you’d probably never know since he’s most likely going to die trying to get his bounty. They always did.

You rode up to the location of the Mandalorian’s bounty, the spot used to be a small town where you would visit and play in the fountain in the middle. Once a month there used to be different festivals for the various alien cultures that lived there filled with music and life. You’d walk around to the colorful vendors full of tasty food and pretty trinkets, always asking Kuiil for something from them. You didn’t have a whole lot, so those days he would always spoil you sick with anything you wanted. The resurfaced memory is fuzzy and warm, but things have changed now since it was taken over by raiders and pirates. It was never the same and it hurt to see something that special be ruined so quickly.

“This is it, whatever you’re looking for, it’s in there,” you tilted your head in the direction of the town. Or at least what was left of it. The Mandalorian took out his fob, holding it in the direction of the abandoned town. The quiet beeping increased over the ride to the spot, showing you had taken him to the right place.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding to you. You glanced over and noticed he was handing out a small pouch to you, but you shook your head in rejection. “Please, you’ve helped me a lot.” He reinforced the statement by urging the pouch your way again. The offer was nice, you’ve never encountered a bounty hunter quite like this one.

“That’s kind of you, but the only payment I need is seeing this area cleaned out of them,” you looked back at the territory a little solemnly. “Things… haven’t been the same since they arrived, but no one has managed to get rid of them yet.”

“...Then why help me?” He folded one hand over his wrist, holding the reins in the lower hand. It made sense why you were so patient to help him out, perhaps this place meant more to you than he knew. You paused to consider your answer.

“I’ve never met a Mandalorian, I’ve only lived here my entire life so all I know is the stories my father told me,” you mused, “if they’re correct, then this shouldn’t be too hard for you.” You start turning the blurrg before pausing, a hint of amusement on your face, “Not to mention, it was fun seeing you get bullied by that blurrg. Good luck!” You giggled to yourself, riding away as he shook his head. His face was definitely burning just a little bit from the memory of that display.

You took your time riding back, the Mandalorian still on your mind. Even though you got a ways away, the sound of blasters being shot reached you. Taking a minute to listen, it took a little bit before it went quiet again. That’s how it usually was, you’d bring them to the quarry, they would go off and get in a shootout, and you’d never see them again. You sighed, shaking your head. You wanted to have hope for the Mandalorian, but hopefulness won’t keep him from getting killed by a blaster shot.

“Well, at least now I know I can teach the next one how to ride a blurrg,” you shrugged to yourself, riding off back home. As you rode away into the desert, in the dust of an ended firefight the Mandalorian stood, gazing down at a small, green child in a floating pram. A child that would change both of your lives.

You arrived back home a little before nightfall, leading your blurrg back into her area before closing it off again. You pulled your hood off and sighed as the cool air drifted through your hair, the cool breeze felt nice on your scalp. Kuiil walked over to the entrance of the tent, holding two containers of water in his hand.

“Do you think this is the one?” You glanced over at your adoptive father, taking a drink he offers to you.

“I am not sure, we will find out in a few days,” he tilted his head to the side in uncertainty. “Do you think this is the one?” You shrugged at the question, taking a swig from the container. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to make it, but with no one else making it back it was kind of hard to think anything else except that. “I’d like to think so. It would be cool to say I know a Mandalorian that didn’t immediately die after meeting him,” the Ugnaught snorted at your reasoning. “And… I don’t know, he just seems.. different. I don’t know if I can explain it.” Perhaps it was the slowly increasing need for change in your life, but you knew what you felt.

At least that’s what you thought.

The rest of the evening passed by without anything else eventful happening, but before you went to sleep you found yourself still wondering what happened to the Mandalorian. Perhaps he was dead, but oh well. You’d get your answer in a few days. Accepting the fate of your brief acquaintance, you let your eyes close and peacefully drifted off to sleep. You dreamt of the desert, the imagery moving over the sand to the location of the small town you used to frequent as a child. However, it wasn’t the nostalgic memory you were used to, it simply showed the current state of the town. But the movement didn’t stop there, you were slowly guided through the town, the echoes of laughter and cheer, of your childhood, bounced around until you entered the main building.

It was dark inside, the only source of light was the sun pouring in from the windows and entrances. Your heart wanted to wander around, to relive those fond memories. Relive moments when you weren’t worried about bounty hunters or mercenaries coming through your home and making you feel a little more on edge. But something drew you away from those thoughts. There was the slight tugging in the back of your mind, almost like a small string pulling you in a different direction until you saw what could be the source. You apprehensively approach a white, spherical floating object. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought it was a baby pram. Until it popped open, showing two green ears poking out from underneath.

You tilted your head in wonder, seeing something small start to peek out from underneath the blanket it was in. But you couldn’t get a good look at it, the face was blurred for some reason. It all felt… foggy. Despite the low visibility, you felt your hand lift a little to hold your finger out towards the small thing, wiggling it a little bit. It reached out a three-clawed hand at you, right as its hand wrapped around your finger, you woke up.

[sickonthedancefloor]

So... wrote more of the thing, got distracted by a lot of *just gestures at America*, decided to post what I had anyway. Tentative part one? Have fun~

Sickie: Hoseok Caretakers: Namjoon, Jin (so far)

Content: emeto, fevers, flu-like illness

The nap just felt like a bad idea once Hoseok woke up.

The band had finally concluded their fifth weekend in a row of concerts and they have two weeks before the next one, so some downtime would be absolutely appreciated. But sweaty, tired, with their ears still buzzing from the cheers and bones still jittery from caffeine and exhaustion, they needed to just get changed so they could make it back to the hotel for a good night's rest.

Eat, shower, sleep. It was their usual pattern, and one Hoseok had been completely used to. But for some reason he felt like he'd gone overboard today, and his entire body regretted it. After the concert, after the encore, after the staff made their way around the boys collecting sound equipment and disconnecting them from their mic monitors and congratulating each other on jobs well done--ARMY had loved the finale, Hoseok was just so glad it all went well--Hoseok had just gone to the green room and flopped on the couch. After a deep sigh, letting, and a mumble of thanks when he felt one of the noonas fanning him with one of their ARMY face-fans, he'd shut his eyes and... actually had fallen asleep, the adrenaline draining from his body at an alarming rate.

"Hobi-ah! Hobi-ah! You didn't even get up! Come on, it's time to go."

The fan was gone, and the noona who had been there, but an uncomfortable chill had taken over its place as Hoseok squinted his eyes open. The sweat felt caked on his face, like crust gathering at his eyes. His limbs felt like lead, and it took him a few moments to register the voice. Honestly, he couldn't place the light trill until he saw Jimin appear before him, the younger singer's hand finding his shoulder.

"Come on, hero. Sejin-nim found us a ramen restaurant."

Hobi groaned. Food, while advisable and very necessary, just felt like an uncomfortable afterthought. He wasn't in the mood to eat, much less get up, but given the temperature drop in the room he kind of wished he had grabbed his hoodie.

"Jimin, have you seen my jacket?" was what Hoseok attempted to say. It came out more along the lines of, 'Jimiiii, m' jacket?' But Jimin's expression seemed clouded as he looked at him.

"You're cold? But it's so warm here..."

Hoseok nodded. He finally pushed himself to sit up, but the effort it took had him leaning forward to drop his head against Jimin's arm, his back protesting. He just felt so sore. Did he overdo it at the concert?

"Hobi... You're kinda warm."

"Mm... no, cold."

Hoseok really needed to wake up more. He normally felt tired after concerts, but this just felt painfully excessive. He lifted his head, looking towards the floor when he spotted a fresh water bottle. Perfect. Taking the water bottle, he opened it and just drank a solid third. It was lukewarm, which wasn't the tastiest, but it felt needed, refreshing. Maybe he was just a little dehydrated, some food and good sleep would help.

"Hobi... are you feeling okay?"

"Just tired, Jiminie... Just really, really tired."

---

The mere idea of dinner didn't seem to sit well with Hoseok either. He hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep until he felt Jin shaking his shoulder gently. He blearily opened his eyes to find Jin leaning over him, a smile growing on his hyung's face once they made eye contact.

"Come on, Hobi, dinner!" Jin cheered lightly.

With just a grown, Hoseok shut his eyes again. He really didn't want to get up. His head and his limbs felt like led, and his stomach just felt uncomfortable. But Jin's strong arms tugged at him until he budged from his seat, and he had no choice but to get up and follow along. Once out of the car, Jin paused to look at him for a moment, his grin faltering.

"You look... I don't know. Are you okay?"

"I think I just went harder during the concert than I usually do," Hoseok mumbled. He leaned over, his head dropping on Jin's shoulder. Jin promptly wrapped an arm around his side, hugging him close to him. It was comforting, warm in a way Jin always was, firm and supportive and kind. Hoseok smiled, eyes blinking heavily. "Hyung, don't let me go, I might fall asleep here."

That brought a soft, hiccupy laugh out of Jin. "Aaahhh Hobiiii, don't fall asleep standing! At least get some soup!"

Jin didn't let them dawdle longer in the cold air and he walked Hoseok inside. Limbs barely dragging along, Hoseok followed Jin to their private back room where the remainder of the band had already been seated. The room was cold, and Hoseok could feel a chill the moment he slid into his chair. He could already feel Jin's eyes focused back on him--his eldest hyung, always so observant over the smallest of things--but he pointedly stared towards the menu and attempted to focus on it.

That was until he felt two hands grip his beanie, but the hands merely pulled the hat further down to cover his ears. That.. made a lot more sense, honestly. It was warmer, having the beanie pressed snugly onto his neck, but the light material against his ears muffled the noise of the restaurant. When Hoseok looked up, he caught Jin's light smile before the older man turned to his own menu.

"It's kinda chilly in here," came Jin's only explanation.

Hoseok couldn't fight the small smile off his own face as he returned his eyes downward. He honestly was not hungry, which wasn't too surprising for him. After concerts, Hoseok usually felt rather peckish but never outright starving. A bowl of ramen or a salad could hold him over until breakfast, when he was prepared to eat everything under the sun. With a small yawn, he took a sip of the water provided and tried to tune into the conversation happening.

It was another animated night of Jungkook and Taehyung reenacting something goofy that had occurred during the concert when they were allowed to just let loose and have fun. Today's silly song had been Love Maze, which had ended up with an impromptu dance move between Jungkook, Hoseok and Jin, and Hoseok smiled down at his menu as he recalled the memory. The concert had honestly been a ton of fun, and ARMY had loved it. It had just taken too much out of him. Had he gone overboard? He couldn't even remember, but he didn't regret it regardless. He heard his name passed around, and an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Hoseok didn't waste time leaning into the embrace, humming softly at the sudden warmth... Jimin, he was pleased to see.

"Rest on me, hyung, I'll nudge you when the waiters come," Jimin spoke softly.

Hobi nodded, and as much as he wanted to just rest his eyes, he couldn't help but fall asleep on his roommate's shoulder.

---

"I think he has a fever," Jin said softly over his dinner.

Jimin had moved Hoseok from laying on his shoulder to resting his head against his thigh, and Hoseok's mouth had fallen open a bit from the change. His breathing was raspy, and as Jimin placed a hand on his cheek, he frowned as he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I think so too," Jimin answered. "He probably pushed himself too hard at the concert, he seemed completely exhausted when it was done."

"I was wondering about that," Namjoon chimed in as he sipped a beer. He fiddled with the plastic bag of Hoseok's to-go order of ramen--they just ordered it to-go when they first picked their meals, no one wanting to wake the dancer. It was late, and it wasn't completely uncommon for them to be too exhausted to eat, but it was a rare occurrence to see their leading dancer and team sunshine so drained. Being sick just made more sense. "Hoseok's usually still fussing over everyone after a concert, I was downright concerned when I caught him sleeping."

"Hopefully it just passes by tonight," Jin mumbled. "It could just be overheating. We worked hard during the concert."

The others nodded in agreement. Namjoon couldn't help but reach a hand to Hoseok's cheek and press his fingers against soft skin. Maybe it was just temporary, he had to tell himself; but the heat radiating against him worried him nonetheless. "I'll stop by a drugstore on the way back just in case. I don't think we've got anything in the hotel, do we?"

Jimin and Jungkook both shook their heads. Usually at least one of them had extra painkillers or various cold or throat lozenges, but he imagines they left everything in the hands of the staff. The energy seemed to dwindle after that; they were all tired, but having their J-Hope asleep and as cause for concern, they didn't seem to be as in the mood anymore. They quickly finished, and as Yoongi took care of the payments, Namjoon and Jimin tasked themselves with waking the poor young man.

"Hobi, c'mon, we're going back," Jimin tried to coax. For the first minute, Hoseok didn't respond at all, but it wasn't until Namjoon's hand tugged on his arm that he groaned, something small and pitiful.

"Hobi, c'mon." Namjoon tugged his arm again, and Hoseok tried to pull away as he blinked open his eyes.

Wait... He glanced over, taking in the decor of their booth in the shop, to Namjoon's face, brows scrunched in worry and lips pointed downward, and it dawned on him that he was still in the ramen shop. Namjoon was just relieved to see realization slowly coming back to him, as Jimin's hands found his shoulders and helped him upright.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Jimin murmured. "We're tired."

We. Collectively. Less room for Jung Hoseok to argue, and Jimin knew it. If he were to point out that Hoseok was tired, he probably would have gotten an argumentative response, something along the lines of being able to finish the night if they had more tasks, or wanted to explore. But we meant it continued more than just him, went to names he wasn't even familiar with and asked for 'rest'. We tonight meant the entire band. And honestly, it wasn't a complete exacerbation--he himself was feeling drained, and he could see exhaustion drooping on all of his hyungs. How Jungkook and Taehyung were still going strong was beyond him.

"Back to the hotel?" Hoseok asked, voice small and shaky. He just stared owlishly between Namjoon and Jimin, as if trying to discover some forbidden secret.

"That's right, Hobi," Namjoon answered. "Come on, back to the hotel."

The next morning, Hoseok just felt worse. That Monday was their first day off, and usually the staff let them partner or split up and explore the city. They didn't get a lot of opportunities during the weekends of the concert, but the next two days, if not spent in the rooms, were often spent shopping and seeing fun sights. Hoseok remembered vaguely telling Taehyung he'd go with him to the aquarium last night, he thinks (did he imagine it?), and he remembered something about a really neat store downtown, but the rest seemed vague and disjointed. Did he really agree to go out today? With limbs that didn't seem to move on their own anymore? This was difficult...

His head felt completely stuffed with cotton, heavy and plugged up like no other. His nose was stuffy, sinuses enflamed and swollen--and it came with not only a dull headache but an uncomfortable fog that seemed to just cloud his thoughts. His ears didn't feel like they worked right. Really, none of him felt right. Not completely focused, all he could think were two words upon waking: 'So tired'. He could barely breathe, and after two very uncomfortable, forced sniffs, he merely opened his mouth to take in more air.

Hoseok's phone buzzed next to him. Then twice, three times.

Groaning, he stretched a hand out to find where it had moved to last night, limb moving lazily across the comforter. Honestly, Hoseok doesn't think he charged it at all, but it definitely came from somewhere around the bed. However, after a few minutes of futile searching, he merely gave up and allowed the uncomfortable haze to take him under.

The brief nap didn't seem to last long at all. There was some sharp knocking, and someone's deep voice calling his name, rather cautiously. A minute or so later, he heard the lock click and the door slid open.

"Hobi, you alive yet?"

Ah, Namjoon. Hoseok forgot he'd given him the extra room key.

Hoseok groaned, turning to the side. His mouth felt dry, and his limbs were heavy. He didn't want to get up yet, that felt like too much energy. And for someone who could run nearly nonstop on one Americano? That was saying something.

"Hobi? You're still not feeling great, Hoseok?"

With an incoherent grumble, Hoseok nodded. He hadn't even opened his eyes, didn't want to risk upsetting his head even further. There was a thick, consistent pounding that he immediately wanted to sleep off. He heard Namjoon's steps approach and stop, and soon long fingers had begun carding through his fringe. Then Namjoon's cool hand pressed against his forehead, and Hoseok shivered--why was he so cold?

"You're still warm... guess you didn't sleep it off like we hoped," Namjoon murmured.

Sleep it off? Hoseok had to take a moment to try and recall what made him feel so lousy in the first place. He remembered falling asleep at dinner, but even returning to his room seemed hazy. Brows furrowed, Hoseok merely looked at Namjoon, eyes squinted, as if trying to search for the answers. He wasn't sure what happened--hell, he wasn't even sure if Namjoon knew. But the look on their leader's face, that heavy-set frown and pensive eyes, Namjoon certainly must have figured it out.

"We should have had you take some medicine last night." His hand raked through Hoseok's sweaty bangs, pushing them from his forehead. His touch was gentle and cautious, and his simple motions lulled Hoseok into closing his eyes, nearly dozing again. He could just figure it out later, really... This felt nice.

"Ah--" Namjoon's hand froze. How long had it been? "Hobi, wake up!"

"Mm?" Hoseok grunted in response, but didn't move from his spot. Namjoon's hand moved away, the younger boy scooting back a little. With a frown, Hoseok moved a hand over to grab Namjoon's wrist. His grip was clammy and warm, not strong at all, but he didn't meet any resistance. Hoseok dragged Namjoon's hand closer, ignoring as Namjoon's fingers whacked his sore nose, resting only when he dropped the hand right atop his head.

'Keep going,' The message was clear. 'Don't stop, it feels nice.' Being sick made sense. It honestly explained everything: the headache, the clamminess, the chills. Even exhaustion--a concert wouldn't take this much out of him, would it?

With the chuckle from Namjoon, but those familiar fingers soon find themselves pressing into his hair again, and Hoseok decides he doesn't care. He lets himself succumb to sleep once more.

---

That was unexpected. Hoseok relaxed far too fast under Namjoon's hand, and only seconds seemed to pass before he could hear soft, congested snoring from the older '94-liner. That was worrisome, especially since Hoseok didn't seem to have a problem yesterday. Did this all come along after the concert? Or had he been hiding it? It took Namjoon a moment as he tried to recall the details of the day, but with last-minute arrangements, costume changing, makeup, stage rehearsal... There was no way to tell.

Worried, he moved his hand to Hoseok's shoulder and shook, concerned Hoseok may have actually passed out in weakness. Hoseok grimaced at the shaking, trying to tuck himself further into his blanket. Okay... so he just fell asleep. Namjoon sighed, and with another ruffle of Hoseok's hair, he pulled out his own phone and immediately scrolled through the contacts to their beloved eldest hyung. He didn't even bother with text and pressed the 'dial' button immediately.

Seokjin didn't take long to answer at all. "Joon-ah, my friend! Where are you? You're missing breakfast, I'm going to eat your share if you don't come for it!"

That got a soft snort out of Namjoon. "There's a reason. Do you have the medicine in your room? I think Hobi's sick, he hasn't gotten out of bed."

The joking tone to Seokjin's voice dropped immediately. "I was afraid of that... Does he have a fever? Is he coughing?"

"He feels like he has a fever," Namjoon answered. "Haven't heard any coughing or sneezing, but he went right back to sleep really quickly."

Seokjin sighed. "Hopefully it's not too bad yet... Hang on, I'm gonna finish up here and grab the bag in the room. Just keep an eye on him until I get there."

"Alright, hyung, I'll be here."

As they disconnected, Namjoon sighed and opened up the group chat, then closed it. No use worrying the others yet. Instead, he switched to the chat with their manager, sending a quick message about his teammate's condition. The near-immediate response he received offered help if they needed it, and just said to keep him updated. Namjoon sent a thumbs-up response before drawing over the chair from the hotel's desk, dropping into it.

Leave it to Hoseok to save getting sick for after the concert. At least it was convenient timing.

"You need to tell us when you don't feel well, you silly," he mumbled, though a fond smile fell as he reached over to pet Hoseok's hair. With his free hand, he just opened up the internet and mindlessly checked his emails.

Thankfully, the wait wasn't long at all. Fifteen minutes later, and Namjoon let in a worried Seokjin who had a bag from the hotel's convenient store, a cup of something hot, and a small RJ pouch from his room. Namjoon picked up the pouch.

"Seriously, how much RJ stuff do you own, hyung?"

"Aish, Joonie, don't worry about how much RJ stuff I own!" Jin bickered playfully as he pulled items out of the bag. Fever patches, cough syrup, pepto, a bottled sprite, a few tea bags from downstairs, and even some cracker packages. Namjoon peeked into the RJ bag to find throat lozenges, painkillers, bandaids... even a small thermometer.

"The thermometer is from Sejin-nim," said Jin, and he held his hand out.

Namjoon handed it to him. The last minute inventory was a pretty good set. "Guess... let's wake him up again and see what he's feeling."

Jin nodded. He kneeled next to the bed and gently shook the dancer. He moved the blanket back, and sighed at the forlorn look the younger one gave him.

"Seokkie-ah! Come on sunshine, wake up for a little bit."

Jin?

Hoseok hummed in confusion as he attempted to turn himself onto his back. His blanket felt positively stifling now, and he was getting sweaty. He grimaced, honestly feeling uncomfortably warm as he tried to push it away. Jin helped by pulling it down to his waist, but soon that large hand pressed against his forehead again.

"You're not kidding. He's roasting. Seok-ah, how are you feeling?"

Hoseok's eyes opened, but he grimaced and shut them again. Everything seemed to spin the moment he tried to look, and it turned his stomach immediately. He curled in on his side, bringing a hand to his head.

"Bad headache?" Jin asked softly.

"Mmhmm..."

"Feeling anything else? Sore throat, upset stomach? Give us something to work with."

"But... day off," Hoseok croaked. His voice sounded hoarse, and he looked completely drained. "No working."

Namjoon snorted. "You got jokes on your sickbed. Can't be that bad."

With a smile that soon turned into a grimace, Hoseok shook his head.

...then promptly leaned over the bed and vomited. Jin barely moved back in time, but didn't manage to avoid side splatter on his shoes. Namjoon was quick with grabbing the wastebin from the desk and moving it under Hoseok's face, grimacing as the dancer gagged up another hot mouthful of sick. Jin moved to the side of the bed, rubbing Hoseok's back.

"There, just get it out..."

And get it out he did. Hoseok barely had time to take a breath in before he heaved forward again, choking out mouthfuls of thick, clustered vomit. Jin held him up by his shoulders when he noticed Hoseok's arm shaking under his own weight holding him up, and he continued to mumble reassurances until he began to slow down.

"Deep breath in, Seokkie," Jin coaxed, pulling Hoseok back from the basket. "You're done. You can't have that much more in you."

Hoseok frowned. "I--" Hoseok grimaced, voice raw. He took a moment before trying again. "I got it on you, Jinnie?"

"No, I'm fine." Jin stroked his hair. "C'mon, rinse your mouth out and then you can lie down again."

Namjoon already had a water bottle open, and Jin took it from him to help Hoseok take a sip. After swishing it around, Hoseok spit it out in the trash bin before collapsing onto the pillow behind him. Grimacing, Namjoon carried the bin to the bathroom and grabbed a towel and the bathroom's bin. He placed the towel on the mess, siently apologizing to the cleaning staff, and attempted to clean it up a little. Bile was gross, especially when it had an especially sick smell to it, but it wasn't the worst he's dealt with. He didn't get sick sympathetically--honestly, it was a small blessing, given how often colds and bugs passed around them. He'd grabbed a washcloth, and secretly handed that to Jin. Jin flashed him a grateful smile and began to wipe his shoes off.

"Well, that made for an eventful morning. Hoseok-ah, I guess in a little while, you should try some tea and then medicine. It's going to hurt your stomach more taking it while empty."

Groaning, Hoseok reached for the blanket and pulled it back to his chest. He just felt chilled to the bone now. He just wanted to sleep, see if perhaps it would go away on its own. He didn't realize he had been mumbling it aloud until he felt Jin's hand comb through his hair and his hyung sighed.

"Seokkie, that's not going to help at all. Come on, just a few sips."

"Nooo..." But it sounded small and pathetic. And Jin wasn't going to have any of it. Without much prompting, Jin's hands wrapped around his shoulders and guided him up, moving him to lay against his shoulder. But before being handed anything, Hoseok could feel something cool tapping his lips.

"Open up, put this under your tongue."

That didn't require much. Hoseok obliged, eyes closed, leaving it for Jin and Namjoon to handle on their own. Namjoon though, had frozen in his clothing, as he caught sight of the numbers climbing up. And up. 38... 38.5... 38.9... 39...

"Aish, Hoseokkie..."

It finally beeped, blinking on 39.3 C.

"It's this high already?" Jin pulled it from Hoseok's lips. "Joonie, grab one of those compresses for him. Hobi..."

Jin moved, and Hoseok grimaced again--Jin had leaned over, and his sense of balance shifted with him. He righted himself, and Hoseok, and lifted the mug to his lips. "Here, drink."

With a soft whimper, Hoseok carefully took sips of the tea. The warmth came with a strangely comforting feeling, soothing on his throat and actually settling against his empty stomach. It was weird, but he had to appreciate it. It wasn't long before he could feel the cool gel sensation against his forehead as he felt Namjoon smoothing a patch against his forehead. It was chilled and uncomfortable, but as he shivered, he could feel Namjoon setting another one on at the nape of his neck.

"Aigooooo," he whines.

Jin just laughs and strokes his hair. "You're really sick, Seokkie. These should help."

But before Hoseok could get comfortable, Jin jolted him again. "Try to take a pill before you fall asleep."

There was a whine of apprehension that surprised even Hoseok, and he looked up at Jin with unsure, squinted eyes. Namjoon had turned off the light again, leaving just a bit of light from the hotel windows. That definitely helped with the headache, but Hoseok wasn't sure if he was ready to try a pill.

"Try? Try for Hyungie?"

There was another whine, but Hoseok held a shaky hand out, curled fingers trying to uncurl. He'd try, at least once. Namjoon was quick to pop a cold and flu tablet from the packaging and place in his hand, and Jin placed a water bottle to his lips. Hoseok made quick work of swallowing the pill, before laying down. He made a beckoning hand again.

"Eh? But you took it, Hobi-ah, you're okay."

Hoseok's fingers clashed again. Namjoon laughed, but Hoseok was too exhausted to gripe about it.

"He wants you to give him your hand," Namjoon translated the gesture.

"OH. Oh, okay." Jin placed his hand in Hoseok's, and Hoseok moved the hand to the top of his head. An unspoken request--pet my hair please. Namjoon chuckled, but he wasted no time in running his fingers along Hoseok's scalp, lulling the dancer back to sleep.

Unfortunately, dozing only lasted a few seconds before his stomach flipped, and Hoseok's eyes widened. He didn't want to throw up again, not on the floor at least... As he attempted to sit up, he swayed the opposite way and found himself suddenly braced in someone's steady arms. The wastebin was handed to him, and he tilted his head down, a mouthful of bile and the little water he drank escaping into it already. Gasping, he pressed a hand over his stomach as a painful cramp waved through him, bringing with it another mouthful. Hoseok gagged and coughed out another long stream, of leftover food from somewhere deep within him and stomach acid. It honestly hurt his throat, and he could feel his eyes stinging with tears from the pain.

Jin's arms just held Hoseok tightly as his body convulsed, a nearly gutteral sound escaping as he retched. There really wasn't anything left in him, and yet his body felt like it needed to purge out whatever viral affliction was plaguing him.

From Namjoon: "Hobi, take a breath!"

Hoseok retched again, then opened his mouth and tried to just take a breath in. It came in as a strangled gasp, mouth open as spit drained from his lips. Another attempt and he managed to settle the urge to vomit again, at least. Namjoon borught the water bottle back to his lips.

"Here, rinse."

Ah... Hoseok followed the instructions easily, letting Namjoon hold the bottle as he brought it to his mouth and swished the liquit about, before spitting it in the can. Namjoon moved the trash can to the floor and ran a hand through Hoseok's sweat-damp hair as Hoseok slumped against Jin.

"It's okay, you stopped," he said softly. "So... I guess that was too much."

Hoseok whimpers. "I'unna lie down..."

Jin laughed but helped ease him to the pillow, draping the covers over his shoulders. He lay on his side, grimacing as another cramp rippled through his stomach.

Jin rubbed his shoulder softly. "Try to rest while you can, okay? We're staying here with you."

"Mm... okay. Don't leave." And with that, Hoseok let sleep overtake him once again.

Jin frowned as he looked up at Namjoon again. What were they going to do now?

[aricazorel]

"You came back." "I promised, didn't I?" Prompt

Kaidan Alenko x Kori Reese; ME3, post- Citadel II (1465 words)

When the away party departed the shuttle after decommissioning yet another Cerberus base, Major Kaidan Alenko did not count on a personal visit by the Normandy’s XO. Yet there she stood in the docking bay, attempting to disguise her fidgeting with unnecessary fiddling with her Omni-tool. Lieutenant Commander Kora Reese might be able to fool some with her antics but not him. Kori was nervous and worried about something, and he was reasonably sure it had something to do with him.

With a nod to Shepard, the Major made his way over to Reese who stood next to one of the computer stations near the weapons modding table. She glanced up into his whiskey brown eyes and then quickly back at her omni-tool. Maybe nervous wasn't the correct word at all. Worried was but there was something else. Reese wasn't one to avoid eye contact especially with him unless…

Unless she was scared.

That thought set alarm bells off in the Specter’s mind as he came to a stop in front of her. What could have happened while he was on the away mission to cause her to be scared? And what did it have to do with him?

“Hey,” he said quietly, drawing her attention back to him.

“Hey,” she echoed as grey eyes met his again, her omni-tool still open, still running numbers on a simulation for a project she was no doubt working on. She always had multiple projects and sims running, hoping one of her ideas would prove viable enough with EDI’s help to use against the reapers or Cerberus.

Kaidan tilted his head slightly, all too familiar with her tendency to use it as a distraction as well. “What brings the Normandy XO down here? I thought Shepard told you to make sure not to scratch the paint.”

The Lt. Commander made a face at him. “I oversaw the retrofits with Traynor. The only paint that ever got scratched was that ugly-ass Cerberus orange.”

The Major smirked as he said, “Okay. Okay. Fine. But really, why are you down here?”

“Can’t I come down and see how the mission went?”

“Kori, you were listening in on our comms the whole mission. You know exactly how it went and you know that we took out another Cerberus base,” Kaidan said reaching over and switching off her ‘tool.

She opened her mouth to protest but stopped when the rest of the ground team passed them, heading towards the elevator. Shepard called out of his shoulder, “Not a bad ending for your first mission back on the Normandy without your girlfriend along to babysit you, Alenko.”

Kaidan made a face as he waved the first human Specter off. “Laugh it up, Shepard! I'm sure I can ask Liara for some embarrassing stories of her saving your ass.”

“Just because my girlfriend is a Shadow Broker doesn't mean she knows everything I've done or that she’s assed my ass!”

“Are you sure? I seem to remember something about coming back from the dead…”

Shepard scowled as the door shut. The Major just grinned. “You don’t actually babysit me—”

Alenko trailed off when he glanced down and saw the expression on Reese’s face. The same concern laced with what she could only label as fear reflected in her grey eyes. Something definitely wasn't right. Hearing Vega and Cortez banter back and forth as they checked over the shuttle for damage, Kaidan gently ushered Reese to the elevator. “We need to talk, don't we?”

“I don't—"

“Yeah,” he said as he summoned the lift. “We need to talk.”

Reese fidgeted but said nothing in reply. As the elevator doors opened, Kaidan glanced over at the Lieutenant Commander who continued to stare straight ahead. After boarding the lift, the Major said as the doors closed, “EDI, can you give us a few moments alone?”

“Of course, Major Alenko,” the sentient AI replied as she paused the elevator. “I will inform you when the elevator is needed.”

“Thanks, EDI,” he said as he crossed his arms turning to face Reese. “I feel like we've been here before.”

Grey eyes finally met his as she said quietly, “Hopefully less yelling this time.”

Kaidan's eyes went wide at the remark. Two days after he rejoined the SR2 he confronted her about the fact she was ignoring him. Tempers had flared as they discovered they still had unresolved issues even after rekindling the relationship on Earth. “I.. only meant that we talked in the lift. Not the other part.”

“We didn't talk in the elevator. You kissed me and pressed me up against the wall. We actually talked in the engineering sub-deck.”

Kaidan sighed as she once again corrected him. “Do we really have to go down there or—"

“You came back.”

Her words were spoken in a whisper, her eyes flickering between his gaze and his armor’s chest plate. Dawning struck the second human Specter like lightening. She was afraid he wouldn’t return.

He used a gloved hand to tilt her head back up to his level. “Of course, I did. I promised, didn’t I?”

“I just…” Reese began, her expression showing embarrassment at her admission. “It’s stupid but I just had to see you get off that shuttle. I—”

“Oh, hey! It’s okay, sweetheart,” Kaidan said as he drew her into a tender embrace. His Spec Ops armor really wasn’t conducive to it but he managed any way. “I’m here. I’m back with you where I belong.”

A he cradled her head to his chest the best his armor would allow, he realized she had folded her arms in against his chest. He was effectively cocooning her in his embrace. Reese had never been one to show vulnerability in public and it had taken a long time for her to do it with him on the SR1. Now as they struggled to begin again, he was continually surprised when she did so with him. It was especially unexpected considering the issues the incident on Mars had caused between them. The initial confrontation in the very same elevator after he’d joined the crew was a direct result of that.

On Earth before the Reapers invaded, they had begun repairing their relationship. A foundation of friendship had been remade. Slowly, gradually they had worked towards being more. Admittedly even before the arrival of the Reapers, they still had a long way to go.

But maybe there was more to what Kori worried about though. He knew a part of her still harbored a doubt that he might leave again without a proper explanation. And he owned that. He took every opportunity to prove to her through word and deed that he would not repeat past mistakes.

But Mars? That had been something else entirely. It wasn’t like before during the aftermath of the SR1’s destruction, one of them leaving the other because they chose to. Mars involved the possibility of losing each other because of their duty or succumbing to injuries sustained while in the line of duty.

The Major’s mind began putting together the pieces of the puzzle as he continued to hold the woman he loved to his chest.

His headaches. Her reaction in the hospital. Her accusation that he hadn’t been truthful about the severity of his migraines after his injuries on Mars…

The weekly inquiries into his medical records. Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Michel he expected. But a third party pinged his records on a regular basis as well. One routed through Alliance medical but without a specific name. It had to be Kori. She was that worried about him because of Mars but did not want to tell him. Most likely so he wouldn’t worry.

Kaidan closed his eyes as he continued to hold her close. He wouldn’t tell her he’d figured out her secret. Instead, he would continue to assure her he would always come back. That there was a future for them. That no matter the mission, the injury, or the pain he endured, he would always come back to her.

“Kori, I know things have never been exactly easy for us but I…” he paused as he moved his head to kiss her forehead. “I will always come back to you. Always.”

“You better, Alenko,” she murmured into his armor. “Or I’ll—”

“Kick my ass. I know,” he said with a grin as he hit the button to allow the elevator to resume its journey.

“Damn straight, tech boy,” was her murmured reply as he continued to hold her, not caring if the doors opened to reveal their current state to anyone. He’d spent far too long without her in his life, and he was not going repeat that mistake again.

He’d always come back to her. Always.

[spookysanta]

online. (g.d.)

Summary: everyone warned him about talking to this girl online. but he can’t help but want to fall for her... now he has to meet her. what happens when they finally get together in person?

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

WARNINGS: sexy thoughts but nothing too bad

Word ct.: 4116 words

this is the first part of my fic! i was gonna post the entire thing but it’s waaaaaaaay too long. so, here’s “part one”.

UNEDITED

(grayson’s messages are in bold, (y/n)’s are in italics)

***

So, let’s talk for a moment.

Shoot.

Would you maybe want to…meet?

Meet…in person?

Yeah. I mean if that’s too big of a step maybe we could facetime or something.

She was frozen. Sure, they’d been talking for a while but this wasn’t like they were dating. And no, she wasn’t a catfish; everything she told him about her was completely true, so that wasn’t her concern. But she was stressed beyond belief because this guy claimed to be Grayson Dolan, and he was a pretty big deal. And if she’s honest, she’s starting to like him in that way.

What if he sees her in person and he doesn’t like her in that way like she does?

Then she’ll feel pretty stupid.

Hello?

Hey. Sorry. I think us facetiming would be a good idea. Baby steps, wouldn’t you agree?

Grayson wanted to scream with joy. This girl…she’s basically him, but female. She’s got the humor, the kindness, the empathy.. everything he’s looking for. And yes, he completely will agree with anyone and everyone who found out he was starting to fall for a girl he met online—he completely understands that he might be clinically insane.

He doesn’t think he’s falling in love with her, but if he ever did, he surely wouldn’t fight it.

Definitely. Baby steps. Maybe we could talk tonight? If you’re not busy. He typed back.

No, I shouldn’t be busy… what time?

Maybe around 8?

Your time or mine?

Oh right, she lives in New York.

Mine.

She doesn’t know what to do. Of course, she’d love to see his beautiful face—she’s started following him on Instagram since they’d begun chatting, and she’s convinced she’s seen an angel. But what if it’s not him? Or what if he sees her and says, “mm, no thanks”?

She gets an idea. When he calls, she won’t answer. She’ll say she wasn’t feeling well, or that she went to bed early.

But then he’ll reschedule.

Ugh, she really wanted to just get it over with already. Is he who he says he is? Because no-one that attractive is this willing to talk to a girl like her, so she thinks.

Actually? She’s gonna do it. She’s going to answer his call, and if it’s a random guy named Raymond that looks nothing like him, then she’ll cuss him out (as she does so well) and then she won’t feel as bad for letting three months of chatting with this guy feel like a waste. But if it is him, then maybe she’ll have made a friend that she can actually trust.

Okay. She typed simply after battling with her brain cells for a couple minutes.

Everything okay?

He must’ve noticed that she wasn’t exactly responding eagerly.

I’m just worried.

Worried?

Yeah.

Why?

She typed hesitantly: Because what if you see me and I’m not what you imagined me to be?

He replied quickly without missing a beat: Then hopefully we can still be friends. I don’t think that’s something you should worry about, though.

What do you mean?

What you look like doesn’t determine your place in my life. If you were honest with me about you, then we can still chat as much as you want. I still like talking to you a lot.

Oh.

So all that matters is that we accept each other for who we are. And if we can do that, then we’ll be fine.

He was right. There was no need for her to stress, because there’s nothing to stress over.

You’re right, she told him in a feat of confidence, you know what, maybe we should facetime now? Just get it out of the way.

She didn’t think he would say yes.

And when he saw her message, his heart fell to his ass. But he really wanted to see her. Because in his mind, she had to have been beautiful, to match her beautiful personality.

Okay. What’s your imessage?

Should she tell him?

If she never marked the message as read, he wouldn’t know. And then she wouldn’t have to worry about looking stupid in front of him.

But that’s not fair to him. He seems like a genuinely nice guy and the least she should do is honor her word and talk to him. Hell, maybe he’ll be even more perfect than what she was hoping for.

(y/n)lovespancakes@icloud.com

Cute username.

She rolled her eyes. At least her username wasn’t anything stupid. Pancakes are a universal delicacy in her mind, so they should be on the same page.

Hey, don’t judge, I made it when I was 10 and I was going through a pancake phase.

Waffles are better, but I won’t argue it this time. Give me a second and I’ll give you a buzz.

Is he serious? She’ll brush it off because he decided to.

Oh god she realized that it’s happening. She should’ve just minded her business. She should not have suggested that they talk now. Because if they talked later in the day, she could make up reasons to ignore his call, but she can’t do that now. Is she going to burp or fart with him listening? What if he sees how nervous she is? What if he—

gbdolan@icloud.com wants to FaceTime you.

Okay, she can do this.

She can do this.

She can’t do this.

She probably shouldn’t do this.

But she definitely shouldn’t keep him waiting.

She swiped the button to “answer” before her brain could tell her not to.

Connecting…

His face appeared on the screen with a bright white smile. “There you are!” He exclaimed.

God, his voice. She knew it was deep because, judging from his pictures, he’s a pretty big guy.

“Hi.” She squeaked, her mind still darting to different ways she could hang up and go to bed to wallow in her own self-pity. She mustered up a thin-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really.” He shrugged, fiddling with things on his desk. “So…what’s up with you?”

The last thing she wanted was for the conversation to get awkward. Because once it gets awkward, then she’ll get uncomfortable. And then she’ll make up a reason to hang up…not like she hasn’t been doing that already. “I’m avoiding my work by talking to a guy that lives across the country.”

He hummed. “Is he cool?” He asked with a brow raised.

“Hardly.”

He belted out a laugh and she wanted to shriek.

He was so beautiful.

“So you’re not talking about me.”

“Oh, I’m certainly talking about you.”

“You couldn’t be. I’m cool.”

“Cool like a burning furnace.”

“So you’re saying…I’m hot?” He had to ask, she was practically begging for him to ask.

Duh. Idiot.

“Mm. To some.”

He couldn’t help but laugh again. His laugh was almost soothing, as noisy as it was. At this, her shoulders relaxed in her seat. “Good one.” He replied.

“You’re cute, I guess.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And may I say…you’re absolutely stunning.”

Her face got hot. She didn’t know what else to say, so she said, “Oh my god, shut up.”

“What?”

“Don’t call me “pretty”.”

“I didn’t call you “pretty”, I said you were “stunning”. “Pretty” is what you call your sister on her prom night. But you’re way more gorgeous than that.” He almost sounded stern in the tone of his voice. “I’m sure you’re even more breathtaking in person.”

“You really know how to make a black girl blush, don’t you?”

“I’m just telling the truth.” She saw him shrug. “And now that I’ve seen you, I won’t be able to get you out of my mind.”

“You’re too smooth for your own good, you know that?”

“Probably. But I know you find it attractive.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because if you didn’t like what you were hearing—or, rather, who you’re hearing it from—you would’ve blocked me a long time ago.”

“I still have the opportunity to, trust me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But now that you know I’m not some random guy—“

“You still are, technically.”

“—you should come to L.A.”

“Huh?” If she’d been sipping water, surely she would’ve spat it out by now.

“Yeah. Come hang for, like, a week. Then we could get to know each other better, no screens separating us whatsoever.”

“Um—“

“Okay, maybe not a whole seven days.” He reasoned. “Maybe, like, 5?”

“Here’s the thing.” She stopped him mid-ramble. “I have no money.”

“Oh, that’s okay, honey. I’ll pay for you.”

Disregarding the fact that he called her “honey”, her jaw dropped in shock. “No, no, no, no. That’s too much money.”

“It’s not that much.”

And that’s how she quickly realized they were in two different financial brackets.

“It’s expensive, Grayson. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

His name just rolled perfectly off her tongue. And if he wasn’t paying attention, he’d be thinking about all the ways he’d like to hear her say his name, both appropriate and not.

“I want to. I’m paying for you and that’s that.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged again. “But I want to see you. All you’ll have to do is say when you want to come out, and I’ll hook you up.”

She thinks she loves him.

“Thank you, Grayson. You’re the best.”

“I know.”

***

He broke her. She quickly decided that she needed a break from school. And as she told him tearily—though not in tears because she doesn’t cry unless she absolutely can’t help it—she was “so stressed she didn’t know what to do with herself”. So she told him that she wanted to come the following weekend.

And of course, he said okay.

So he sent her all of the necessary information, as did she, and then before she could realize, she was boarding a plane.

She sent him a text:

hey, just boarded. see you in 4 hours! :)

He replied quickly.

Okay great. I’ll see you soon! I’m so excited. I’ll be waiting for you at your gate with a surprise for you. :)

A surprise?

What’d he get her?

She hopes she can eat it, because she’s starving.

Eventually, the plane got to its destination and she was shaking from nervousness. So badly someone had to help her get her bag from the overhead compartment.

She courteously sent him a text with shaky hands:

hey. just landed. be there in 5!! xoxo

Why was she feeling like this?

She walked slowly from the plane and into the airport. Her logic was the slower she walked, the less likely he was to wait for her.

But then she would’ve wasted his money.

Ugh, damn her conscience.

She decided to walk at a normal pace (much to the pleasure of those stuck walking behind her), and entered the airport, sucking in a breath as she walked to Baggage Claim.

Her phone buzzed.

1 unread message from gray ☀️

Okay!! I’m pretty sure you’ll see me, your surprise is pretty big lmao

Huh?

Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes scanned the vast area of the room when they landed on a particularly big man holding a particularly big sign that read in all caps:

WELCOME TO LOS ANGELES Y/N

She couldn’t help but laugh at him as she made her way in his direction. He hadn’t seen her yet, and he set the sign down to tie his shoe. He promised her he’d wear real shoes and not his Gucci slides, no matter how comfortable they were, because she didn’t want to see his “hairy toes” as he described them. “Y’know,” she spoke when she was within earshot of him. “I think the point of a sign is to consistently hold it, but that’s just me.”

He stood quickly, pulling her into his arms with a laugh. “Hey, you.” He mumbled in her ear as they embraced.

His mind was swimming, and rightly so. This girl was finally in front of him. They’ve been chatting since Halloween and all he’d wanted since then was to hold her in his arms.

And damn, was it worth it, indeed.

“Hey.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt. She sighed in their hug, her mind wrapped up in how good he smelled. She never wanted the scent to leave her nose. “You smell good.”

He chuckled, “You, too.” He couldn’t help but kiss her forehead, because she was here, and she was so gorgeous, and she was just…her.

She was first to pull away from their hug. She got a good look at him: his hazel eyes, his hair that was steadily growing down and not out, his cute little button nose that she was certainly going to poke before she goes back home, to the scar on his chin that she felt the urge to kiss. “You’re so pretty in person.” She muttered, almost so that she couldn’t be heard.

“I could say the same thing about you.”

She punched his arm. “Okay, you can’t do that now that I’m here.”

“Do what?”

“You can’t be all cute and stuff.”

“I’m…sorry?”

“No. Like you can’t call me pretty, or gorgeous, or stunning, or—“

“How about perfect?”

“Especially that.”

“You are, though.”

“Shut up!” She punched his arm again.

“Look, missy, you’re not going to keep hitting me.” He pointed a thick index finger at her. “I’ll get you back.”

“Mhm. Sure. Anyway, can we eat? I’m starving.”

“Fine.” He grabbed the sign and her suitcase and walked alongside her to his car. “What do you want?”

“Pasta.”

“(Y/N), it’s eleven o’clock.”

“So? It’s basically lunchtime. To Olive Garden!”

He wasn’t going to give her everything she wanted while she was here, that was his vow to himself. Because if he did, she’d be over the moon, and he’d be in debt.

But he didn’t mind because he was completely certain that he would give her the Milky Way if she asked him for it.

“Fine. We can go to Olive Garden.”

He could tell she was drowning in excitement, no matter how much she tried to mask it. “Wait.” she stopped him. “My surprise?”

“Oh, right. Your surprise is me. You’re welcome.”

“No thanks.”

***

He watched her as she hummed a tune, lips pursed and brows furrowed in concentration. She told him that she already knew what she wanted (ravioli in marinara sauce), but she had to scan the menu “just to make sure”. She had this way about her, this gravitational pull that seemed to just keep bringing him closer. And if he wanted to pull away, he wouldn’t even be able to fight it.

This girl had way more power than she lets on.

Her eyes darted across the menu’s print, her glasses sliding slowly down the bridge of her nose. She took a hand and pushed her braided hair behind her shoulder. “Stop staring at me.” He heard her mutter. “I can feel it.”

“You’re just so perfect.”

“You’re shitty at following directions. I said to not call me those names.” She looked at him with a glare.

“I’m not calling you names, I’m describing how beautiful you are. And, at this moment, you look perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

She hid behind her menu in embarrassment. “You’re mushy.”

He snatched her menu away from her, setting it in the booth he was sitting in so she couldn’t reach. “And you’re gonna deal with my mush all week.”

“Trust me, I’m not looking forward to it.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay. Now that you’re here…what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I thought you were the one with the master plan. After all, it was your idea to lure me here, y’know.”

“I’m aware.”

“Ooh.” She thought out loud, her eyes widening. “Can we go to Disneyland?”

Look at her face! All he wanted to do was kiss her.

But let’s not forget—he’s on a limited budget. Because the last thing he wanted to do was to spend up all his money to take her wherever she pleased. She confessed to him that she doesn’t travel much so yes, he did want to take her exploring, but no, he does not want to be on the corner begging for change by the end of it all.

“Well, I don’t see why not.” He shrugged. How could he say no to her, especially now that she’s here? This was all his fault, after all. Had he not asked her to come, he wouldn’t be considering taking a second mortgage on his house. “What else do you want to do?”

“Well, I’d love to see the Hollywood sign, and maybe we could go to Madame Tussauds, and maybe we could—”

“Clearly you’ve made a list.”

“Yes.” She replied bashfully. “I’m just really excited to be here.”

“Trust me, I am, too.”

***

He also learned from his observations that she gets sleepy in the car. If the radio’s just quiet enough and the seat is comfy, she’ll have her head propped against her arm, and she’ll be out in under a minute.

And lucky for him, they got stuck in traffic, so he got to watch her sleep.

Not creepily, but admiringly. He’s not a weirdo.

She stirred when he had to make an abrupt stop. “What did you do?” she asked groggily.

“I didn’t do anything. We’re just gonna be chillin’ here for a bit.”

“Kay.”

“You get a good nap?”

She wordlessly nodded. She must not be one for conversation when she first wakes up.

“Well, it sure sounded like you did, all that snoring you were doing.”

She pushed his bicep, which she found to be very…big. “Shut up. I don’t snore.”

“So what do you call it?”

“Breathing.”

“Some “breathing” you do when you sleep, then.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, almost causing him to slam on the brakes because he thought she’d gotten hurt somehow. “I forgot to ask you to take me by a hotel when you get the chance.”

“A hotel?”

“Yeah…so that I can have a place to sleep at night…”

“I figured you’d just stay with me.”

“Stay…with you?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Well, I—no, but I didn’t know if you wanted me to stay there or not, so I looked up some cheap hotels in the area.”

He waved her comment off, looking behind him in the seat before going around the lanes of traffic and speeding down the freeway. “No, no, no. You’re my guest, so you’ll stay at my house, in the guest room. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

Clearly they have a habit of staring at each other, because she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She couldn’t help but watch him as he sat up to change lanes, but then she couldn’t even describe how she felt when her eyes glanced down to his thigh and she saw how his muscles there flexed in relaxed as his foot stepped on and released the gas pedal. And she did not dare look anywhere else, no matter how tempted she was.

This was not that kind of trip.

She did say she wanted to get to know him better, and she did, but she didn’t just want to have sex with him. She figured he wasn’t that kind of guy anyway, as kind and caring as he was. She wanted to see where things would go, and clearly she wouldn’t be able to if all she thought about was what he could (or couldn’t) do to her.

“Thank you, Grayson.”

“For what?”

“For bringing me here, and paying for everything, and letting me stay with you and Ethan, and—wait, does Ethan know about me?”

“Two things: one, stop thanking me, okay? I mean it. I’m doing this because I want you here and I like having you around, so I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. So no more thanking me, alright?”

“Yeah.” She felt like she was being scolded like a child, but couldn’t deny the butterflies that were currently having a rave in her tummy.

“Good. And two, yes. Ethan knows about you, but he doesn’t know you’re coming.”

“So…do you plan to tell him?”

“Yeah. I will.”

She didn’t say anything after that. How could she? Now she would be a puddle of nerves. And she was already nervous because she was here with him, and now she has to meet the most important person in his life? The least he could’ve done was say something.

He could see the worry beginning to etch itself onto her face. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. He’s harmless.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me?”

“He will.”

“But what if?”

“I’m telling you, he will. He’ll take one look at you and he’ll see what I see—perfection.”

***

He opened the gate to go up the driveway, and after creeping his way up the hill, he parked his Porsche under an awning attached to the house. The two of them got out of the car, and she went to grab her things from the backseat, but he stopped her. “I got it.” He said simply.

“No, it’s no problem, I can get my luggage.”

“No.” he gently took her carry-on bag from her grasp and slung it over his shoulder, yanking her suitcase out of the backseat. “I got it. You go ahead.” He handed her his house keys.

She walked ahead of him cautiously, because she saw another truck in the driveway. So that could mean that Ethan’s here. And that might mean that she’d have to meet him.

Oh god.

She stood timidly on the porch as he lugged her things toward the door. She attempted to take the carry-on bag from off his shoulder. “At least let me take my carry-on.”

He smacked her hand away. “Stop it.” He took the keys from her and unlocked the door. He nodded his head in the direction of the house. “C’mon.” This time, he led her. She followed him inside in the direction of a room just off to the side of the living room. “So this is your room, feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Is Ethan here?” she asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed as she watched him set her things down.

“Yeah. His truck’s outside. He’s somewhere around here.” He sat next to her on the bed and took her hand, kissing the back of her palm. “But like I said, everything’s going to be fine.”

“Yo, Gray!” they heard a voice yell from down the hall.

“Now, listen,” he said to her. “just be yourself. There’s no reason to worry, okay? He’s harmless and no matter what, you’ll still be my favorite.”

That was their little inside joke. When she found out that she’d been talking to the Grayson Dolan, she slipped up and told him that he was her favorite of the two boys after only mildly stalking their YouTube channel. So every time they speak they tell each other that they’re their favorites. Cheesy, of course, but she found it to be their “thing”, so she thought it was cute.

She chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. You’re my favorite, too, I guess.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. And to be perfectly clear, she wanted to die. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, and she just wanted to snuggle him forever. “I know I’m your favorite. You can’t deny it, no matter how hard you try.”

She saw who she assumed to be Ethan stroll past the room. But then he backtracked and said, “Hey, Gray…who’s your friend?”

“This is (Y/N). You know, the girl I was chatting with on Instagram?”

“Oh, okay.” He entered the room. “Hi.”

Grayson nudged her.

“Hi.” She replied quietly. “Nice to meet you.”

He removed his arm from around her. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of days, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s totally fine.” He shrugged. “I’m going to the gym. You need me to get anything while I’m out?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

“Cool.” He turned to leave but before he did, he said, “Bye, (Y/N)! It was nice meeting you!”

Then, they heard the jingle of his keys, and then the gentle slam! of the front door. “See?” he mumbled to her, kissing her temple. “You did all that freaking out for nothing.”

“I was not freaking out.” She retorted but let out a huge breath of air anyway.

“You were. And I know that you were, because I could feel your heart pounding without me touching you.”

“Shut up.”

[ineedsleepleavemealone]

Heyyy problem children or whateva, I havent posted in a while so let's do what bnha characters would do if you were hurting yourself okay? Okay.

TW: mention of self harm and scars/suicide- I have done this to myself before and ik how it can affect people so I beg you that if you are sensitive to this please do not read this. I have tried to keep it light hearted though as to hopefully not make anyone cry.

N e waysssssss

Iida:

• * cue hand movements *

• I feel like he would be training and would look over to see you laying underneath a tree, short sleeves and trying not to give in to your sad thoughts

• and with genuine worry would come over and sit next to you and pull you up into his lap (given you two are together) and would place his hand on your cheek

• "hey are you ok my love" he would ask with literal concern visible in his voice

• you would have let yourself cry at this point and would be shaking in his arms trying to steady your breathing

• like to the point that you couldn't form words (aswell as being humiliated that you are vulnerable and are wearing short sleeves) so you would just look down and fiddle with your hands

• to which he would look down too and see scars, faded and new, covering the lower part of your arms and wrists

• I'm not gonna lie, he is a really sweet person and I feel like hes kinda innocent too so he would probably gently wrap one arm around your waist and one on your wrist while asking something like "my love who's hurting you? Is it a villain? You should have said love I could have helped you"

• and your response would be a violent shake of your head and you would look up at him and weakly smile and mumble "m-me. I'm doing I-it"

• that's when out of instinct he would make his hand movements being like "that is highly dangerous, if you were to damage yourself for good I...i" and letting himself feel sad he would whisper "I wouldn't be able to bear it my love...please dont do this anymore, I can help you"

• I feel like he would then pull up your wrists and softly kiss each scar and whisper to you "see, I'll kiss them all better for you"

Because I ship erasermic so much I'm doing these to together sooo your just best friends with them in this one. Shouta and yamada:

• shouta wouldn't have noticed if you didnt flinch when he gripped onto your wrist to make you listen to him

• immediately dropping your hand he would look concerned and would call mic over "hey mic come here for a minute I think y/n needs us"

• you would frantically try to walk away because you arent prepared to let them see what you have done

• but as you try to walk away shouta would again grip onto you, your hand this time, and would turn you around so you were facing both mic and him

• letting your hair fall forward as your look down in a desperate way to stop being confronted, mic would move from hugging shouta to lifting your chin up so you are eye level with them

• "y/n? If your not ok you can tell us you know that right?" Mic would say looking into your eyes

• and avoiding his own eyes you would simply nod before shouta suddenly grabs your sleeve and pulls it up, showing new scars covering your arms

• with eyes widened on all 3 of you, they would almost immediately smother you in a harsh hug and I have a feeling hizashi would probably cry aswell as you, leaving shouta to try comfort you both

• finally pulling away from you, and quickly burying mics head into the crook of his neck, shouta would looks at you deeply and try to give you a reassuring smile with an "it's going to be ok, it's better that we know now and can help you"

• with sudden urges of wanting to hurt again you place your arms behind your back and scratch at your newer scars, causing them to bleed

• and taking note of what you are doing shouta would use his binding cloth to take your arms and skillfully wrap around them like a bandage

• and face dropping to the floor once again you would let out a small sigh "I'm, I'm so sorry for disappointing you guys..its just so hard and sometimes I dont want to be here or even exist anymore.."

• so then mic would unwrap his arms from shoutas waist and move so hes hugging you again whispering anything he can think of to you like "no no you dont get it, you could never disappoint us y/n"

• eventually, with mic once again in shoutas arms but facing you this time, they convince you to let them help

• and with them both being teachers they know exactly how to make sure your ok and constantly check up on you

Let's add a villain into the mix shall we

Dabi:

• this mf will tease you endlessly about anything- apart from this

• and having scars himself he would literally know how they feel so it would probably hit close to home for him

• laying in bed with you, only him being awake, he would lay onto your chest and let his eyes wander over your body, just taking in how lucky he is

• which is when he would see your arms

• and silently he would curse at him self for not knowing sooner but would know what to do

• so with out walking you up he would get up and find some soothing oils to help heal your scars and soothe the pain, then woukd wrap your arms gently in bandages before laying back down and laying protectively next to you

• when you wake up however you go about taking of your bandages, but as you go to get out of bed he grasps around your waist and pulls you back pushing your head softly against his chest whispering "no doll-face, you are not leaving my side today, and even though I tease you alot you know I love you right?"

• knowing that he knows, you let yourself back to sleep after mumbling an apology

Oooh im at my last one already😭well here

Tamaki amajiki:

• poor baby would just cry infront of you out of confusion and sadness

• would maybe find out when he goes to hug you from behind and feels you wince as he touches your arms accidentally

• he would apologise like 10 times over how bad he feels that he hurt you and would pull up your sleeve to try and see if he really hurt you

• and would look at you in shock and you start crying, knowing what he is going to see

• moving round to being infront of you, he pulls up your sleeves and looks in shock, and immediately crys

• pulling you into a hug and burying his face into your soft hair he would whisper sweet things to you in an attempt to calm your unstable breathes like "hey im here, I can help dont worry I'll help" and will just keep going until he can feel your heartbeat slow down

•then he will wrap his arms around your waist firmly and in a more serious tone and his intense glare would say "okay baby I know this is hard for you, but even if you dont want me to I'm going to help you through this" before letting himself collapse into you in another hug

Ok so I hope yall are all ok after reading that, if not here🍫🍬🤜💕have some food and love and calm yo self down, it's ok. Have a nice dayyyyy

[olliedollie1204]

everything fits (1/8)- the meeting

Single father Patton is utterly devoted to his son Virgil. Recently divorced Logan is utterly devoted to his twin sons Remus and Roman. The pieces come together.

Pairings: Romantic Logicality

Word Count: 3,495

Tags: Single dad Patton and kid Virgil, Divorced Dads Logan and Janus and kids Roman and Remus (their split was mutual and their relationship is good)

listen y’all, i started this AU in January of this year, it is VERY near and dear to my heart, so even though it’s not finished i wanted to make myself happy and post what i have to hopefully motivate me to finish it <333

also a very late shoutout to @kanene-yaaay-o-retorno for reading a few chapters/oneshots for this AU... hm, six months ago? and giving me the best positive feedback i could’ve asked for. she’s a queen and a legend :D

(Read it on AO3!)

“Daddy?”

Patton woke up to two tiny hands pressing into his back. He blinked, fumbling for his glasses on his messy bedside table. As he pulled them on, blinking the sleep out of his eye, he couldn’t help but break into a large smile at the figure standing next to his bed.

Virgil was always small for his age, and the giant purple hoodie he insisted on sleeping in practically swallowed him in its soft, thick fabric. It made him look, in Patton’s professional dad opinion, even more adorable than he already was.

He had obviously just woken up— his dark hair was sticking out in all directions, and there was a small line across his cheek that Patton suspected was dried drool. His oversized hoodie sleeves idly swung by his sides. Patton would give almost anything to wake up to that sight everyday.

“G’morning, stormcloud,” he murmured, reaching out to stroke Virgil’s hair. “How did you sleep?”

“Um, good.” Patton frowned a little at the short response.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?”

The little boy gnawed on his lower lip— a nervous habit that Patton had never been able to get him to break.

“Um, um, um— I’m sorry I woke you up, but—”

“Hey, Virgil, what’s the sorry rule?” Patton interrupted, grabbing Virgil’s hands to pull him closer.

Virgil looked down at their clasped hands, their fingernails painted a matching shiny purple.

“Don’t say sorry unless something bad happened,” he recited. It was a highly oversimplified rule, but a seven year old could only handle so much nuance.

Patton nodded, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Virgil’s head. “That’s right, kiddo. Nothing bad happened, so no need to say sorry, right? And in a minute I’ll get dressed, and we can go make waffles for breakfast—”

“But that’s on Saturdays!” Virgil interrupted.

Patton frowned again. The words ‘it is Saturday’ were on the tip of his tongue, until something clicked in his sleep-addled brain and— oh, fuck.

“Oh, bother,” he said aloud. “It’s Friday, isn’t it?”

Virgil continued to chew on his lip, nodding. “I woke up and I went to the, the kitchen, and the clock— the big hand was on the nine and the little hand, the little hand was almost on the seven, and—”

6:45. Patton cursed internally again. Virgil was meant to be dropped off at school by 7:00, and although Patton was rarely on time, he was supposed to be at his first job by 7:30. So much for that.

“— so I came, I came in here to wake you up,” Virgil finished, looking at his dad with wide eyes.

Patton took this all in, sighing as he ran his fingers through Virgil’s messy hair.

“Well, it’s a good thing you did, kiddo,” he finally said, smiling softly. “Because somebody—”

He poked Virgil’s cheek, giving a little laugh when his son giggled and batted the finger away.

“—Needs to get to school, huh?”

Virgil eyes lit up, bouncing on his heels. “Dr. Picani said, he said, he said we’re gonna play with clay today!”

Patton gasped as he stood up, reluctantly letting go of Virgil’s hands to get to his closet.

“Oh my gosh, that’s gonna be so much fun!” he cheered, pulling out two polo shirts and holding them up for Virgil to see.

“Grey or blue?”

Virgil pondered, brow furrowed in concentration. “Blue,” he finally announced.

Patton grinned. “I was thinking the same thing,” he whispered with a wink. “Now how about you go get dressed— I’ll help you with your hair and teeth in a minute— and I’ll throw some bread in the toaster, and you can eat it on the way, okay, stormcloud?”

Virgil nodded. He started walking towards the door, but stopped, fiddling with his sleeves.

“Um—” he blurted. “Can I, can I have a hug, please?”

Patton melted a little at Virgil’s tiny voice.

“Aw, Virgey,” he cooed, “you never need to ask me that!”

He scooped Virgil up into his arms, pressing a wet kiss onto his cheek to make him giggle.

“Ew!” He squirmed in Patton’s grip, laughing maniacally. “Daddy!”

Patton laughed, setting Virgil down. “Now go get dressed, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

He straightened up and watched as Virgil left the room, his smile dropping almost immediately.

Of course he had to go and forget to set his alarm last night. Ever since Sunday night, when he had picked up a last-minute shift at the bar, Patton’s internal calendar had been thrown off by a day.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing again as he picked up his phone. Today was not off to a great start.

~

“All good?” Patton asked, twisting around to check the seatbelt on Virgil’s booster seat once more. Virgil nodded, his mouth full of bread and jam.

“Okay, let’s hit the road!”

With that, Patton pulled onto the street a tad bit faster than he normally would, a ‘Best of Disney’ CD playing in the background.

Patton sang along, but his attention was not on the music. Rather, it was on his son, who was getting more and more fidgety the closer they got to the school.

At the next stoplight, Patton turned down the music, catching Virgil’s eye in the rearview mirror.

“Vibe check?” he asked. It was a silly joke, some meme Remy had started quoting that Patton had picked up without even really knowing what it meant, but it soon became his and Virgil’s code word for talking about scary stuff like feelings.

Virgil didn’t answer right away, but Patton was patient.

“I don’t… I don’t want people to look at me when I walk in,” Virgil eventually muttered, eyes on his lap. “‘Cause they’ll think it’s weird that I came in late.”

Patton’s heart sank.

“And… and what if I miss something important, and I won’t know how to catch up, and Dr. Picani will get mad at me—”

Virgil’s voice broke a little as the boy started sniffling.

“Oh, kiddo,” Patton murmured, reaching behind him to grab Virgil’s sticky hand. “Virgil, honey, can we take deep breaths?”

He inhaled loudly enough for Virgil to hear him, and after a few seconds the two exhaled together. They did this for a few breaths, in and out, in and out.

When Patton was confident Virgil wouldn’t start crying, he let go of his hand, bringing it safely back to the steering wheel.

“Are those all the bad things that could happen?”

Virgil nodded in dejection.

“What are the good things that could happen?”

Now the child paused. “Um, um, um, I don’t know.”

Patton thought for a moment. “Well… I think Kai will be pretty happy his best friend came to school, even if you’re late, right?”

He looked to Virgil for confirmation, and after a beat the boy nodded.

“And if you miss any classwork, then maybe Dr. Picani will let you go to the library during playtime to finish it.”

Virgil nodded again, a little more enthusiastically. He hated the chaos of playtime; children screaming and running around and roughhousing with each other— the library would be a welcome boon from all of that.

“And…” Patton racked his brain for a third example. “And you won’t have to listen to the morning announcements, ‘cause they already happened!” he finished triumphantly, knowing that the ancient speaker system was especially grating on Virgil’s ears.

“Plus, have you ever thought someone was weird, just because they came in the classroom late?” he continued. Virgil shook his head. “So I don’t think anyone will think you’re weird.”

Virgil hesitated. “I guess.”

Patton winced.

“I’m really sorry you feel nervous, kiddo,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

Virgil looked up at him, eyes wide. “It’s okay,” he replied automatically.

Pattons smiled a little. “Are you saying that not to hurt my feelings?” he asked, kindly but sternly.

Virgil looked torn. “Well… I mean— I guess I mean I’m not mad at you, because everybody makes mistakes, and I love you.”

Patton gave a surprised laugh. “I love you, too,” he responded, once again thankful beyond words that Dr. Picani was teaching his son healthy ways to express complex feelings.

“It’s very kind of you to be considerate of my feelings,” he continued, pulling into the school parking lot. “But I’m your daddy, and it’s my job to take care of you. I made a mistake, and I’m sorry, and I’ll be double sure it’ll never happen again.”

He looked at Virgil in the rearview. “Can you forgive me?”

Virgil nodded, eyes wide. “I forgive you.”

Patton sighed, looking at his son with adoration. How he got such a great kid, he’ll never know.

As soon as he turned off the car, he hopped out to help Virgil unbuckle his seatbelt and get his backpack on. The young boy clambered out of the car, but made no move towards the large school building.

Patton knelt down to his eye level.

“Do you wanna walk in by yourself, or do you want me to come with you?”

Virgil fiddled with the string on his hoodie. “Aren’t you late for work?”

Patton paused, checking his watch. “Yeah,” he admitted. He always tried to be honest with Virgil when he could. “But I called my boss and told him what happened, so I won’t be in trouble.”

He wasn’t gonna get paid for the hour of work he was going to miss, but Virgil didn’t need to know all that.

“Plus,” he added in an encouraging tone, “you can show me that drawing you told me about? The one Dr. Picani put on the wall because it was so good?”

Virgil flushed a little at the praise. “He put everybody’s drawings on the wall, Daddy,” he insisted, but there was a small smile on his face now.

“Yeah, but I’ll bet there was only one person who thought to draw a robot shark and a sabertooth tiger being best friends. I mean, that’s so creative!”

Virgil shrugged, smiling down at his shoes. “I guess you can see it, if you wanna.”

Patton laughed and held out his hand. “Let’s go, kiddo.”

Hand in hand, the two made the long walk up to the building. As they got closer, Patton squeezed Virgil’s hand.

“What do we say to the door?” he asked— another little ritual between the two.

Virgil giggled, throwing his arms out in front of him like a wizard casting a spell. “Open sesame!”

Patton laughed as he grabbed the handle.

“Thank you, kiddo,” he said, and pulled.

The door stayed shut.

Patton frowned. He pushed it instead. Nothing.

Virgil lowered his arms. “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

“Nothing,” Patton hurried to say. He pulled again, then pushed again. “I think… I think it’s locked.”

Immediately Virgil’s smile dropped.

“Why is it locked?” he asked, a little bit of anxiety returning to his voice. Patton pulled the door yet again, but it stayed firmly shut.

“I don’t know, kiddo.” He scanned the wall for anything that would unlock the door. There was a keycard scanner on the metal doorframe, but Patton didn’t have a clue how to activate it.

He could sense Virgil was about to get upset again, and he rubbed a hand against his son’s shoulder.

“Okay, let’s take some deep breaths. We’ll get you into class, one way or another.”

“Why would they keep the stupid door locked?” Virgil demanded, and normally Patton would remind him to use nicer language, but to be honest, he was thinking words that were a fair bit harsher than ‘stupid’ at the moment. He didn’t look at his watch again, but he knew that he really didn’t have the time to wait around for someone to walk by the door.

He turned around, about to suggest they try to find another door to get into the building, but found himself face to face with… another pair of glasses?

He gasped, hand flying up to his chest as he stepped back from the figure who was suddenly in his personal space. The other man— tall, sharply dressed, with square framed glasses perched on his nose— looked appropriately guilty at Patton’s reaction.

“Apologies,” he commented in a clipped tone. “I was in a hurry and I did not realize you weren’t entering the door.”

Patton was having a little trouble bringing his focus away from the man’s deep blue eyes, until he felt Virgil squeeze his hand, bringing him back down to Earth.

“No worries!” he responded faux-cheerfully, as the blue-eyed man moved around him to approach the door. “We, uh, we think it’s locked.”

He paused, looking back at Patton as he pulled something out of his pocket. “I have a keycard.”

With one swift motion, he swiped the card, pulled on the door, and moved to the side, holding it open as he looked at Patton expectantly.

“Oh, um, thank you,” Patton stammered, gently pushing Virgil through the door in front of him. “Come on, Virgil.”

The two made their way into the hall, Virgil pulling Patton by the hand through the unfamiliar building.

“The office is over here,” he whispered, just loud enough for Patton to hear. Patton nodded, picking up his pace a little bit but still lagging behind Virgil.

They walked a few feet before a voice chimed in again.

“It’s a safety protocol.”

Patton turned in confusion, finding Blue Eyes walking nearly next to him with long, confident strides. He opened his mouth to ask for clarification before he realized that the man was not looking at him— he was looking at Virgil. Patton turned around just in time to see Virgil give the man a suspicious look.

“What?” Patton winced a little at his bluntness, but Blue Eyes seemed unbothered.

“You asked why they keep the door locked. It’s a safety protocol. It prevents unauthorized people from entering the school building during the day.”

Virgil frowned and curled in on himself. Patton waited two beats before realizing he wasn’t going to reply.

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense!” he jumped in, not wanting to be rude to the man, who turned his gaze onto him.

“Yes,” Blue Eyes replied after a moment, “although I suppose there should be some way for parents and visitors to enter the building without having to wait for someone with a keycard to happen by. I will be certain to address this in our next staff meeting.”

Patton blinked, a little bit unsure if the man was still really talking to him or just thinking aloud.

“Probably a good idea,” he replied anyway.

He suddenly felt himself jerk as Virgil turned a sharp corner, pulling him into a nearly identical hallway. Blue Eyes continued to walk with them, speeding up to keep pace with Patton.

Patton gave a sheepish smile. “We’re running a bit late,” he said by way of explanation.

“As am I,” Blue Eyes replied. “Almost ten years of teaching and this is the first time I’ve been late to work.”

Patton’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh! Well, I hope— I mean, obviously, I don’t want to keep you from your class, if that’s the reason you’re walking with us—”

He fumbled through the sentence, trying to politely let the man off the hook if he was already late for work, but he stopped himself as Blue Eyes shook his head.

“No, no, it’s nothing to do with you. I need to pick up some photocopies for my class from the main office. I would be going this way regardless,” he stated. Patton felt himself blush a little.

“Oh, okay. Good.”

The trio arrived at the office, again with the blue-eyed man holding the door open for Patton and Virgil. As soon as they were inside, Virgil bolted to the back of the office where the late entry sign-in sheet lay. Patton meandered towards him, but stopped when he heard the man clear his throat.

“After some… reflection,” he began with consideration, “I realize that my behavior might have seemed off putting, or perhaps even rude. I apologize.”

Patton blinked in surprise at the sincerity in the man’s voice. “No, are you kidding? You definitely saved our butts back there, getting the door and all. You’re my hero!” he joked, choosing to ignore the potential awkwardness of the statement.

Nevertheless, Blue Eyes smiled. “Well, then, you’re welcome.”

Again Patton expected that to be the end of the conversation, especially considering the man apparently needed to pick up some papers for his class, but Blue Eyes continued to look at him.

“Logan Croft,” he said suddenly, sticking out his hand. Patton was picking up on the man’s— Logan’s— tendency to jump between conversation points.

“Patton Hart,” he responded, shaking his hand. Logan’s grip was firm in his, and Patton became very aware of the jam residue Virgil had left on his palm.

Despite this, Logan made no move to pull away for a few more beats, eventually dropping his hand.

“How old is… Virgil?” Logan asked, eyes darting to the young boy again.

Patton smiled on reflex. “Seven.”

Logan seemed pleased with his answer. “Ah. A good age. Hopefully not too rebellious yet.”

“No, no, he’s a great kid,” Patton assured, laughing lightly. The two watched as Virgil stood on his tiptoes to fill out the sign-in sheet, his pencil gripped tight in his fist as he wrote his name in careful, blocky letters.

“Do you have any children?” Patton asked on a hunch. He smiled to himself as he saw Logan’s eyes light up. Bingo.

“Twin boys, age ten,” he replied in a voice full of pride.

Patton laughed again. “Oh, gosh!” That made a lot of sense, given how Logan was currently watching Virgil with a mix of amusement and nostalgia. “Twin preteen boys, that can’t be a walk in the park.”

“Yes, they can be… more than a handful at times,” Logan admitted. “My husband—”

He faltered for a brief moment.

“... My ex-husband handles their fluctuating emotional states much more delicately than I do,” he finished.

Patton knew not to comment on Logan’s slip up, or the change in his demeanor. Instead, he smiled softly.

“Well, you’ve been nothing but kind to me and Virge here,” he said, shrugging lightly. “So I reckon you’re probably a really great dad.”

Logan met his eyes again, giving him a smile that made Patton feel a little flushed. “Likewise.”

Patton felt a tugging at his hand again, causing him to look down.

“You ready, kiddo?” he asked. Virgil nodded, a tardy pass clutched in his fist.

Patton turned to face Logan again, but he wasn’t there. Confused, he looked around, just in time to see the other man duck into a back office space.

That was… surprisingly disappointing, but Patton couldn’t dwell on it. He turned his attention back to his son.

“Let’s get you to class, stormcloud,” he chirped briskly, moving them both towards the door. He had just started to push it open when he heard a voice behind them.

“Virgil?”

The two turned in sync. There was Logan, watching them from the doorway he disappeared through, a stack of papers in his arms.

“I like your hoodie,” he said.

Patton felt Virgil abruptly squeeze his hand tighter, a slight distraction from the way his own heart seemed to skip a beat. He smiled, opening his mouth to respond on his son’s behalf, and—

“Thank you!” Virgil replied.

Virgil… replied? To a stranger? Without Patton prompting? He felt his eyes bug out of his head, and he tried not to openly gawk at his son, who was— oh my Gosh. Virgil was smiling at Logan, and suddenly he raised the hand not holding onto Patton, and he waved!

Patton whipped his head back to Logan, watching in shock as he waved back at his son. He met Patton’s eyes, and his friendly smile turned into one of understanding. Patton couldn’t help but grin a little too wide as he waved as well, the two of them finally exiting the office as the door swung shut behind them.

“Daddy! He said, he, he said he liked my hoodie!” Virgil was practically jumping up and down. Patton didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“I heard,” he finally managed, his smile somehow growing even wider as he added, “And you said thank you, just like you’re supposed to when someone compliments you! You did such a good job, kiddo, I’m so proud of you!”

Maybe he was making this into a bigger deal than it was, but Virgil was almost cripplingly shy when it came to strangers, especially grownups; and yet within five minutes with Logan, he had been able to smile and speak and even wave.

Patton changed his mind. This was one of the best mornings in his memory.

“Alright, kiddo,” he said, urging Virgil to pull him down the hall. “Lead the way!”

[solllaris]

retrograde — 01

↳ here.

PAIRING: Frat!Tom / Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: It takes some convincing, but you ultimately agree to go to a frat party and are pushed out of your comfort zone in more than one way.

WARNINGS: language, underage drinking, anxiety/panic attacks, & insecure thoughts

WORDS: 5874 

NOTE: This series is my baby so please be nice. The reader’s fears and anxieties are basically a reflection of my own, so posting this makes me feel super vulnerable. There were many moments I seriously considered deleting everything I had made for this series because I was too afraid to put myself out there like this, but obviously I didn’t. I really want the reader’s story to help someone or make them feel like they’re not alone because anxiety can make you feel so isolated at times. So to the person reading this right now, to the person with anxiety or depression or whatever: You are not alone. You will never be alone. And I hope this story shows you that somehow. 

          series masterlist — masterlist — add yourself to my taglist!

Tortoise shell glasses the color of honey inched their way down the bridge of your nose again and you would’ve been greatly annoyed if your glazed-over eyes weren’t focused on the large plastic cup of coffee on the table. Fingers still tensed and poised over the laptops keyboard, your attention had shifted for the millionth time to the dark browns streaking through the blonde colored liquid at the bottom and your fried out brain was mesmerized by it. Anything was more intriguing than the open, half-way completed book review on your computer screen where the blinking cursor taunted you from the corner of your eye. At your wits end, you turned away completely with a groan that you stifled with a hopefully motivating gulp of your iced cold brew swirled with caramel.

Shoving the frames further up your nose where they belonged, you nursed the straw of your coffee between your tongue and teeth and glanced briefly about the room. The Learning Commons was fairly full for ten in the morning, but you weren’t too surprised; it was the go-to place to go — not only to get coursework done, but also to just unwind and mess around. That Friday morning hadn’t been any different from the rest and bleary-eyed college students milled about, drinking their caffeine from the God-sent Starbucks in the building and chatting to their friends through sleepy slurs. For a person who really enjoyed people-watching, the Learning Commons was the prime place for you to spend most of your time. You blended in and fell into the shadows just as you liked.

Blinking twice, you realized you had zoned out again. Your vision focused and you saw you had been staring blankly across the room at a boy drooling all over his open textbook. His slackened grip around his mechanical pencil kept allowing it to fall over in his hand, rousing him each time for only a few seconds and then he was out cold again. The sight made you laugh under your breath and you impulsively tipped your head back onto your roommate’s thigh from where she was sprawled out on the couch behind you. Just as you wanted, Scout’s fingers that had been raking through your hair stilled to let you know you had her attention.

“Look,” You said loud enough for her to hear over the raucous youths around you and discreetly pointed across the way at the sleepy boy. “That’s about to be me if I don’t get this paper done soon, I swear to everything Holy.”

A snort exploded through her nostrils and your head jostled with the movements of her leg kicking the guy whose lap they rested in. 

“Jude.” 

Another harsh nudge to his thigh and the frustrated boy mashed a button on his video game controller, a ‘paused’ message appearing on the flat screen TV. A harsh, pointed look urged her to continue so he could get back to his game. 

“That guy over there looks just like you.”

When you glanced back over, the drooling guy had completely given up on at least attempting to remain upright to look like he was getting work done. His cheek was smashed against the pages of his book, pushing his lips out in a pucker face, and his wrecked hair stuck up at odd angles on his forehead. An unbridled bubble of laughter threatened to come up your throat and you had managed to contain it — until a little string of drool puddled on the paper his cheek rested upon. Both you and Scout shook with the force of your giggles and you briefly found yourself thinking that it probably wasn’t that funny, but to a sleep-deprived university student it was comedic gold.

Jude must’ve shoved Scout’s legs off his lap if the loud ‘thud!’ of her feet hitting the floor beside you were any indication. They came dangerously close to knocking over your cup of caffeine — the only thing getting you through the early hours of the morning — and you were quick to snatch it up, cradling it to your chest like a protective mother. Your look of disgust towards your two friends was completely ignored, overlooked by Scout’s cry of protest and Jude’s annoyed, but slightly amused, glare at the girl.

“That’s what you made me pause my game for?” He huffed, tugging his fingers through his dark tufts of hair.

She shrugged, a shit-eating grin on her face as she plopped her warm toned legs back onto his lap. “Y/n said it first, not me.”

You were mid-sip, a mouthful of bitter coffee coating your tongue when you squealed a close-mouthed noise of protest, widened eyes flickering between your friends. 

“I did not!” You cried once you’d successfully swallowed without choking. “I said that would be me if I didn’t finish my paper soon.”

“Lies,” Scout muttered.

Twisting your body to face her, the back of your hand smacked against her bare outer thigh, a loud and satisfying ‘smack!’ emitting from the harsh flesh on flesh contact. Your puppy dog eyes turned to Jude, bottom lip jutting out just slightly and he laughed, the action making his irises twinkle and scrunch closed.

“I’d never say that about you, J,” You said cutely.

He bumped his knee against your right shoulder lightly, jostling you to the side, and rolled his eyes but the tiny upwards lift to the corners of his mouth told you he was far from annoyed.

“Alright, alright, I believe you.” He groaned, quickly flicking his gaze back to the TV and unpausing his game. “Fuck you and your puppy eyes.”

Grinning triumphantly, you sipped your coffee happily and flopped back against the front of the couch. The sleeping computer screen on the coffee table immediately put a pin in your bubble of contentment, an instant frown replacing the bright smile on your lips. You set aside your half empty cup with a heavy sigh and swiped a finger along the smooth track-pad, waking it from its automatic sleep to tuck back into the four page book review for your U.S. History class. The cursor blinked approximately five or six times before you began to type, but you had barely written three words when the glass doors of the Learning Commons burst open and a group of rowdy boys piled through the entrance.

Well, you thought. Maybe just one more day of procrastinating won’t hurt.

A muffled groan sounded from Scout. “Great. Your frat brothers decided to grace us with their presence, J.”

Your fingers went slack over the lit up keys and you slouched defeatedly; at the rate you were going, the outcome of your paper was beginning to look more and more dim, but the fraternity boys couldn’t care less that some people were actually attempting to get their assignments done by their due dates. They joked and jostled each other and you kind of hoped they could feel the blazing burn of your laser-beam glare you shot their way, but their oblivious grins stuck a pin in your wishes. You watched them for a moment longer as they split off, some falling into the snack bar or coffee line while others drifted towards a vacant table or couch; you took that as your cue to pack up your things and traipse across campus to the library. (Why did you pick somewhere so loud to write a whole ass paper anyway?)

Scout managed to tear her attention from her phone long enough to notice you zipping up your bag and beginning to stand. 

She quirked a perfectly shaped brow and asked, “Where are you going? It’s only 10:30; our Psych class isn’t until 12.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I wasn’t aware that the class I’ve been going to every Friday for a month now doesn’t start until 12,” You bit back with the most deadpan tone you could muster.

Jude snorted without taking his eyes off the TV, his fingers never ceasing their rapid movements between buttons on the game controller. Scout responded with a swift kick to said controller (which earned her a string of expletives as he fumbled to retrieve it off the floor) and waggled a chipped nail-polished finger at you.

“First of all, the ‘tude is not appreciated and second, both of your friends are sitting right here so my question is very valid.”

“Okay, rude.” You pouted sulkily as you gathered your hair to tie it up into a bun with the velvety pink scrunchie on your wrist. “And if you must know, I’m going to the library because it’s way too loud in here to write a paper.”

“Ugh.” Scout groaned and threw her legs off the side of the couch, rolling off onto the floor in the most ungraceful maneuver you’d ever witnessed in your life. “I guess I’ll go with you. I still haven’t finished that Biology worksheet due today.”

“Really?” You inquired absentmindedly as you fiddled with your messy bun in the reflection on your darkened phone screen. (She was taking forever and you needed something to do so you didn’t look like a complete moron.) “I finished it like the day she handed it out last week.”

You didn’t even have to look over at the caramel-skinned girl to know that she had rolled her eyes hard enough to get stuck inside her head. “Literally no one asked,” She retorted.

“Mmm, and to think I was actually going to give you all the answers..”

Just as you watched her expression morph into a sickly sweet one, a shrill whistle cut through every conversation in the room. The loud chattering of college students died down to muted whispers until the only distinguishable sounds were the whirring of the old air conditioning unit in the building and the clambering of shoes against wood; once you turned away from Scout you saw that the latter had come from a blonde boy in basketball shorts standing on a table in the center of the room. Kappa Sigma was emblazoned proudly across the chest of the scarlet colored hoodie he wore and you fought the urge to roll your eyes because of course he was in a fraternity.

The blonde frat boy’s voice faintly resonated in your ears, but you turned away from his dramatic display anyway to latch onto the sleeve of Scout’s over-sized Harvard University t-shirt. You insistently tugged on the crimson colored material because you really just wanted to get a head-start on your paper. Instead of relenting and following you, she simply shrugged you off and it was then that you got distracted with one look at a stupidly attractive guy in a stupidly, tight t-shirt.

If you had ever seen someone who was truly poured into a shirt it was this guy. The gray material was stretched taut across his pectorals and abdomen, dipping and curling into each chiseled line on his body. The stitching around the short sleeves looked two seconds away from ripping open as his biceps bulged from the way he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. You didn’t think the view could get any better until your eyes slid further up to a jawline that could probably cut straight through glass and to top it off, a head full of effortless curls—your ultimate weakness. You were pretty sure you were gaping open-mouthed at him at that point, but it wasn’t everyday that you saw a real life fucking angel on campus.

So yes, you gaped at him. Proudly.

Until you were caught...which you were seconds later.

Your heart dipped dangerously low in your chest and for a moment it felt like the warm blood in your veins had turned to ice. That feeling of sudden panic from such a cute guy looking at you prompted you to swiftly turn away; the cold you had felt literal seconds prior shifted to an uncomfortable warmth as the shock of being caught staring shifted to embarrassment. Your brain raced almost as quickly as your heart and you tried to pretend to focus on the blonde guy standing on a table to calm down, but then you made the dumb decision to sneak another peek.

Big, big mistake on your part.

Insanely hot frat guy was still looking at you. Not only was he still staring, but the beginnings of a smirk were forming on his pink lips and maybe he was not-so-subtly flexing his biceps. Seeing the corded muscles ripple and bulge under his tan skin truly was entrancing and if Scout hadn’t grabbed you by the material of your sweatshirt you would’ve stood and stared for a little bit longer.

Fingers snapped in front of your face and you blinked once, twice, three times before she really came into focus. She shot you a funny look and asked, “Seriously, what were you staring at?” She followed your gaze when your eyes instinctively shot back towards the insanely hot frat guy—who had thankfully looked away. “What is wrong with y—ohhh.”

A shit-eating grin stretched across her face and you immediately groaned. “Don’t start, okay?” You grumbled and finally managed to pull her towards the glass double doors. “He’s stupid hot and I was respectfully looking.”

Scout snorted from behind you as you held the door for her, both of you stepping outside and beginning the trek across campus to the library.

“You were point two seconds away from drooling,” She teased, bumping your arm with her elbow.

You felt the heat tickling at your cheeks and ears again, so you quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway,” You said pointedly, shooting her a look that could kill. “What was that whole ‘getting on the table’ display about?”

“Right. I forgot you were a little... preoccupied.” She smirked and dodged your incoming fist, giggling like a maniac. “Okay, okay! There’s a party at the Kappa Sigma house tonight.”

Scrunching your nose up at the mention of a party, you tossed your empty cup of iced coffee in a trash bin as you passed.

“Well, I have a hot date with Doctor McDreamy and I can’t miss it. You know how much I love me some Derek Shepherd.”

Just as you reached for the door handle to the library, she smacked your hand away with a serious expression.

“C’mon!” She whined, her bottom lip jutting out like a child. “You’ve never been to a party with me. It’ll be fun!”

“My definition of ‘fun’ is very different from yours, Scout.”

A sly smile turned her full lips upwards again. “Tom will be there…”

Your brows furrowed as you wracked your brain to put a name to a face. Tom. Did you know a Tom?

“Um. Am I supposed to know who that is?” You asked cluelessly.

Scout groaned. “Tom Holland. The guy you were ogling in the LC,” She explained with a ‘duh’ tone in her voice.

Absentmindedly you fiddled with the strap of your shoulder bag. You were already growing tired of the conversation and wished she’d just drop it; if anyone knew your anxiety situation, it was her and you thought she’d learned by now that you would never set foot in a party. Attending a frat party of all things was sure to bring on a panic attack and you’d rather not hyperventilate in front of a bunch of testosterone-filled college guys. No way in hell.

Exhaling an exasperated sigh, you shifted on your feet tiredly and let your head fall back towards the sky.

“Is that supposed to convince me?” You shifted around your friend and managed to snag the door open before she could stop you. “Because it’s not working.”

Save for a girl lightly snoring on one of the couches and a guy wearing glasses slaving over his keyboard, the library was practically barren. You immediately felt comforted as you traipsed along the outskirts of the large room, like a warm hug after coming home from a long day; except it was barely after eleven in the morning and you were ashamed to admit that you already needed comforting. Whilst another large exhale huffed past your lips at the thought, you dropped your bag down on the worn cushions of a couch pushed under a window and plopped yourself next to it rather ungracefully.

A rather loud thump resounded through the room as Scout carelessly deposited her own things on the floor by a comfortable looking arm chair; she simply shrugged at your warning glance, mumbling “those two are dead to the world anyway” under her breath and turned to pull a black binder from her backpack.

Soon, the silence between you two was filled with the clicking of your fingers across the keys on your laptop and the scratching of her mechanical pencil on paper. It was nice—relaxing even—and you sunk further into the soft couch that hugged your body, your mind only filled with the words you needed to get down to finish your stupid book review.

What kind of history class has to write a book review anyway? This wasn’t English.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

A small wad of balled up notebook paper hit your left cheek, bouncing off and into the crack between the cushions. Before you could retort, she was already whispering vehemently.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the party.” She stabbed her pencil in your direction as she spoke. “You’re going. Plus, I’ll be with you the whole night. Promise.”

Arguing with Scout was like arguing with a brick wall—pointless and you’d never win and you honestly just wanted her to shut up at this point; so even though the idea of standing in the Kappa Sigma frat house while the plaster walls vibrated and bodies jostled around you almost made you want to throw up, you reluctantly agreed to go with her. You tried to convince yourself it wouldn’t be so bad, that your best friend would be at your side the entire night, but you still couldn’t shake the butterflies in your belly the entire day.

Just as you’d expected, you were pretty sure you were this close to blowing chunks in Kappa Sigma’s bushes.

The lawn was crawling with college students bearing drinks and you were thrown into the middle of them, one hand clasped in Scout’s as she led you up to the porch and the other anxiously fiddling with the hem of your gingham printed shorts. You were hyper aware of everything happening around you: knocking shoulders with a short, blonde girl, the loud shouts over a game of flip cup, the bass of the song playing in your chest, and a putrid, skunk-like smell that caught in your lungs no matter what you did. Already you wanted to leave, but one look at your best friend’s excited face had you willing yourself to suck it up and try to have fun.

Clutching onto Scout’s hand like it was your only lifeline, she guided you through the foyer and an expansive dining room before reaching the kitchen and the pressure in your chest lifted enough to calm your racing heart; it was significantly less crowded, only inhabited by a small group of girls and a guy with his head stuck in the refrigerator. You watched as Scout paid none of them any mind and instead helped herself to two red solo cups, pointing the nozzle to the keg in one and letting it fill with the sepia toned beer before doing the same with the other cup.

You had just opened your mouth to protest, but the look she shot you had the words dying in your throat.

“Just trust me, alright?” She said and you let her shove the full cup into your hand. “It’ll help with your nerves.”

For a brief second your gaze flickered to the group of three girls seated at the kitchen island, all huddled together and speaking in low tones. It made your skin prickle and heat up and you wondered if they were talking about you—how out of place you seemed.

The white brim of your cup slotted between your glossed-up lips and you took a hefty swig. You immediately scrunched your face up in disgust at the bitter, watery taste of the ale but you were willing to down it if it drowned out your impending anxiety for the night.

“Ugh.” You cringed and peered at the frothy beer in distaste. “How do you drink this shit?”

Scout just grinned and raised her beer in the air.

“Cheers bitch,” She hummed and downed a gulp big enough to puff out her cheeks with the liquid. “Now drink up.”

So, you did cautiously while she retrieved her phone from her back pocket; you distantly heard her say the words “text” and “Jude” but you were more focused on the guy leaning against the counter a few steps away. It was the same guy who’d been rummaging in the fridge when you came in and it appeared he’d found what he wanted: a bottle of Michelob Ultra that he held by the neck. His other hand was occupied by his phone, his head tilted downwards as he scrolled with his thumb, but then he tipped it back to sip his drink and your heart plummeted.

You wasted no time grabbing Scout by her bicep to get her attention.

“Don’t look now but super hot frat guy, Tom, is literally right there,” You whispered frantically through gritted teeth and tugged her towards the exit.

Of course, she resisted. The “don’t look now” part of your sentence slipped in one ear and out the other because she turned back to glance at him with the subtlety of a hand grenade. Her small squeal had you yanking her back around, your stomach rolling with enough nerves to make you vomit for real this time.

“I literally just said—”

Just after the words left your mouth, Jude sauntered into the kitchen, loudly exclaiming: “Tom, man, how long does it take to get a drink?” Then, his six-foot-three hulking physique lumbered towards you and Scout—which effectively made Tom’s dark brown irises lock onto you. “And why have you guys not answered my texts? We’re about to start another round of flip cup.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes and you wished you were dead. You knew you should’ve stayed in the safety of your dorm with Meredith Grey and Derek Shepherd. Why didn’t you?

Maybe it was because you were the biggest pushover on campus?

Yeah, that had to be it.

“Sorry, mate.” Tom didn’t glance away from you as he spoke. You noticed a smirk playing at his thin lips before it was covered by the open top of his beer bottle when he took a drag. “I guess I got a little... distracted.”

His little jab at you didn’t go unnoticed.

Yep, he definitely recognized you from earlier in the day when you practically undressed him.

Deep down you knew he was just messing with you, but you couldn’t help feeling humiliated—like you were the center of a joke and not the kind of joke where he was laughing with you; suddenly overcome with a need to escape, you ignored his remark and turned to Scout and Jude instead.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom or step outside really quick.”

You barely heard her concerned voice asking if you wanted her to come with you before you were high-tailing it out of the room and up the dark wooden stairs in the foyer. You took them two at a time and in your haste to ascend them, the smelly beer in your still-full-to-the-brim cup sloshed over the rim and saturated the front of your black shirt and flowy shorts. Your face contorted in discomfort at the feeling of your wet clothes sticking to your skin as you slowed down, reaching the top floor at a more careful pace. The paranoid feeling that everyone was watching you make a fool of yourself began to set in and just as your breathing started to escalate, you ducked into the first bedroom you saw and quickly shut it with a click.

Absentmindedly, you sat your now half empty beer cup on the dresser by the door and slumped back against the wood. The cold doorknob pressed into the bottom of your spine but you didn’t care because all you could think about was the soaked fabric clinging to your front, Tom’s subtle mocking comment, and the feeling you’d felt coming up the steps.

In the back of your mind you knew how dramatic and blown out of proportion you were acting; your anxiety, however, didn’t get the memo. So there you were, panting and quivering in some random frat guy’s room with tears pooling at your lash line. You were beginning to feel nauseous lurches in your stomach and all you wanted was to go home.

You’d never wanted to be here in the first place.

An uncomfortable warmth bloomed in your chest around your heart—a feeling you were all too familiar with. If you had to guess, you assumed it was the way a heart attack might feel. You were panicking for absolutely no reason at all and all that you knew was that you needed to get out of here.

With shaky hands, you pulled your phone out of your bra and wiped away the sticky residue from the beer before composing a new text to Scout.

Sent at 11:33 PM: i feel sick. i think i’m gonna head back to our dorm

Then, feeling inexplicably guilty for not even trying, you typed again as your tears left splotches on your screen.

Sent at 11:33 PM: i’m really sorry

The click of your phone locking sounded like a blaring horn to your over-sensitized body and you slumped tiredly into a desk chair, shoving your phone somewhere on the desk carelessly. You were still shaking and you didn’t know if you were cold or hot and bile had started to burn your throat and in your hazy mind you swore you heard the doorknob turning but who knows?

“Uh, what the fuck are you doing in my room?”

If you thought you were going to throw up before then you definitely were now.

You grabbed the trash bin beside the desk and hung your head over it, the contents of the day emptying from your anxious stomach.

“Christ,” The guy grumbled in annoyance. Didn’t you know that voice from somewhere? “Of course. A drunk girl chooses my room to throw up in out of all the fuckin’ other rooms in this house.”

Shame crept up your neck and made you feel even hotter than you already were. You felt like such a mess—you reeked of alcohol, your hair was damp from a cold-sweat, and a stranger had just witnessed you puking your guts out. Great.

You couldn’t speak. All you could do was take shaky, staggered breaths and sniffle through your tears but you did manage to see who the mean guy in the room with you was. Just as your luck would have it, the guy whose bedroom you’d taken hostage in was none other than Tom Holland.

Your stomach twisted and again you ducked your head back in the bin to puke some more.

“Look. I’m sorry you feel like shit and drank too much but you’ve gotta get outta here.” You felt his large, strong hand curl around your bare bicep to tug you up out of his chair. “C’mon. Time to go.”

It was at that moment Tom finally noticed three things: that you were the girl from earlier in the LC, then again in the frat’s kitchen, that you were shaking like a leaf against him, and that you were struggling to breathe normally. It was clear to him you weren’t throwing up because you were drunk; you were throwing up because you were having a full-blown panic attack.

In his bedroom.

And he’d been nothing but a dick to you so far.

“Woah, hey, hey,” He murmured softly, his voice taking on a much gentler tone. Delicately, he brushed the sweaty hair from your warm cheeks and allowed one of his palms to meet the small of your back. “It’s okay. You’re alright, darlin’.”

You focused all your attention on the quiet hum of his voice in your right ear and the silver cross necklace rising and falling on his chest with each breath. You tried to sync your breaths with his even, steady ones and although it took awhile, you managed to calm yourself down to a non-hysterical state.

Tom’s fingers, however, never faltered in their dance along your spine. “Good girl,” He hummed soothingly.

Tingles tickled at each of your vertebrae.

Good girl. Was he trying to kill you?

Clearing your throat, you set the trash bin beside the desk where it lived and stood up to move closer to the door and away from Tom. You were pretty sure you’d embarrassed yourself in front of a hot guy enough for one day and didn’t want to do anything rash...like jump his bones for calling you a good girl.

You felt yourself getting hot again.

“I’m sorry.” You fiddled with the damp hem of your shirt, unable to meet his gaze. “I just...needed some air and then I spilt beer all over myself and—yeah.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” He shrugged like a girl having a panic attack in his room was normal, then gestured to your ruined outfit. “I’ve got some stuff you can borrow if you want.”

“Oh! No, it’s okay, really—”

“C’mon. That can’t be comfortable,” He said with a raised brow. He was already rummaging through his dresser drawers before you could protest anymore. “Let me help you out, alright? I’ve already been the biggest dick to you tonight.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you took the clean clothes from his outstretched hand and sent him an awkward smile.

“Thanks. I’ll, um, get these back to you. Sometime.”

He grinned at how awkward and fumbly you were. It was cute. He liked that he was the cause of it.

“Sounds like a pretty good plan to me,” He agreed cheekily, unable to hide the smile on his lips. “Gives me an excuse to see you again, huh, darlin’?”

Oh.

This boy was definitely trying to make you explode and you were two seconds away from doing so, sweat pooling even quicker in areas you didn’t even want to fathom.

Thankfully, before you had the chance to embarrass yourself any further, Tom turned his back on you, chuckling lowly under his breath and urged you to get changed.

As you toed out of your high-tops and peeled your sticky, black shirt from your torso, your attention wavered just as you reached for his heather grey t-shirt. You distractedly grasped the soft material to put it on, but you were too entranced by Tom’s back muscles through his own shirt to follow through.

The fabric was stretched taut over the expanse of his broad shoulders and every little movement allowed you to see the rippling muscle that was underneath it. Your fingers itched to slip under his shirt and feel his toned back for yourself, to lightly dig your n—

“Jude said your friend is waitin’ for you on the porch.” His English twang had you throwing the clean clothes on hastily before he turned back around. “I’ll walk you down.”

All you wanted was to get out of this frat house and into your shower as quickly as possible so you agreed even though you felt like your insides were on fire.

You gathered your dirty clothes and hooked your fingertips into the canvas backs of your shoes before you were ushered out into the corridor. The party seemed to have thinned out a considerable amount with only the occasional person loitering about on the second floor; the thought of someone seeing you with Tom’s baggy clothes on made your cheeks flush and you tilted your head down towards the floor, avoiding anyone’s curious eye. To your anxious mind, it felt like everyone was watching you and Tom descend the grand stairs in the fraternity’s house so you held your gaze with the dark hardwood floor the entire trek to the porch.

His warm palm met the small of your back for the second time that night and you cautiously glanced up into his dark brown irises. You were surprised to see the incredibly soft edge they had taken on and even more surprised by the way your spine instinctively arched against his hand.

A guy had never touched you like this before—it felt intimate and tender and you were a stranger to it.

“Hey.” He had to stoop down towards your ear so you could hear him over the still-blaring music. His breath tickled your neck and his bottom lip brushed the tip of your ear. You couldn’t stop from shivering. “Are you alright?”

No, you weren’t. He was really, really close and your heart was beating dangerously fast again.

“Yeah,” You breathed in reassurance, pushing what you hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m okay. Just tired.”

He didn’t look completely convinced. However, he didn’t push the subject further and you were grateful.

“Alright.” He nodded and it was silent for a split second until you both reached the front door. “You look beautiful in my clothes by the way.”

And then Tom was pushing open the door and there on the porch like he said was a worried Scout. Thankfully, she was way too preoccupied with hurtling questions of “are you okay?” and “what happened?” for her to notice the way your skin was flushed and how you couldn’t quite look anyone in the eye.

The weight of the fingers splayed along the base of your spine disappeared as Scout swept you away from Tom and into her crushing embrace.

“Oh my God!” She shrieked as she hugged you to her, your bundle of clothes and shoes between you digging into your stomach. “You scared the hell out of me. Did you fall in the toilet or something?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, a small snort of a laugh left your throat.

“I’m fine,” You reassured and tangled your digits with hers, tugging her down the porch stairs with you. “And no, I didn’t ‘fall in the toilet.’ I just want to go home and drown myself in the shower.”

“Good. You smell like shit.” Her nose wrinkled. “And please enlighten me on how you ended up in Tom fucking Holland’s bedroom.”

You laughed again and spared a glance over your shoulder.

Tom still stood on the porch, readjusting his backwards hat over his brunette curls. You caught the little smirk on his lips and you swore he winked before Scout was tugging you further up the sidewalk and you were forced to turn back around.

Every inch of your body tingled.

It wasn’t until you stood under the shower head’s chilly spray of water back in your residence hall that you realized you’d left your phone in Tom’s room.

TOM TAGLIST:

@xoxohollands​ ♡ @outshineallthestars​ ♡ @pcterparxer​ ♡ @worldoftom​ ♡ 

RETROGRADE ONLY TAGLIST:

@softholand​ ♡ @sushiinmidnight​ ♡ @stuckonspidey​ ♡ 

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.3

a/n: I just saw a post with Overhaul without his jacket... BRUH. the infinite possibilities of--- yeah I’ll save that for the next parts XD enjoy the 3rd part :)

warnings: this cannot be read solo, cursing(?), subtle flirting

Links: part 1, part 2, part 4

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased​ @infinite-universe-love​

“Okay.” Tsukauchi said as he took the seat across from you. His outstretched hand returning the envelope he had cross-checked. “There really will be a gala at the said area at the said date.”

“Who are the possible plus ones I can bring?” You asked. Your eyes glued to your desktop. As of the moment, you were digging up some articles about one of the minor cases you were working on. Of course, you could skim through articles and talk to your workmate. It was as easy as breathing by now.

“There’s only 3 possible candidates.” He began to enumerate. “Me. Shinezu. Namase.”

“Shinezu?” You stopped reading and stared at him. “You’re kidding me right?”

“Perhaps~” He joked. “I mean it would be nice to bring him along and expose him to the outside world. The kid needs a social life. All locked up in his office. Only going out when absolutely necessary. The exposure would do him good.”

Your focus glided to Shinezu’s office. It wasn’t for you to judge but it was clear as day he was happy as a loner and would dread any sort of unwanted communication. The fact that he was even part of this small select group of people was a miracle itself. Though, you had to admire his intellect. Nothing went past him.

“I was actually planning on taking the man himself.” You broke the news. Somehow that sentence caused your heart to pick up its speed by a little. The sound of Tsukauchi’s chair rolling towards you caused a bit of discomfort. “Think about it. He has more ties than I will ever have and his quirk would surely intimidate the boss. It’s a gamble on my part as to how he would carry himself but he’s level-headed. So far.”

“You sure about that?” His voice was much nearer now.

“Nope.” There was no use in lying to this person. “I’m just pulling threads here. But, his title might draw me closer to the main goal here. Besides, I’d like to see him without that horrendous jacket.”

“You’re not being affected by his charm now, are you?” Tsukauchi pried as he slowly went back to his work space. “We all know just how manipulative he can get.”

Gathering a few folders and envelopes, you placed them onto your bag. Fixing your hair, you stood up and went towards his area. Leaning onto the partition, you fixed the strap of your bag and crossed your arms.

“I don’t like being interrogated, Nao.” You said. “But if it gives peace to your running mind, here is my answer. I’m being as cautious as I can be. There’s nothing more to it.”

You waited for a response but by the looks of it he was either using his quirk on you or he was satisfied with your answer. The latter, hopefully. Excusing yourself, you exited the precinct and looked for the nearest coffee shop. If there was one thing the office needed, it was better coffee.

Your nearest bet was a 5 minute walk from where you stood. Looking at your watch, you had a couple of minutes to spare before interviewing a few civilians. Beginning your short walk, your mind drifted back to the plus one. Tsukauchi didn’t give you the go signal for it. Was this now all on you or would you have to consult him one more time?

Your hand was now fiddling with your phone in your pocket. Trying to single out the possibilities were rather tricky. The neon sign for the shop was now above you. You had been so lost in thought that you failed to realize you had arrived at your destination. Leaning on the door, you dragged yourself in and waited in line.

With the events going on, this called for a sweet drink. Something with chocolate in it. A sugar rush was something you needed.

You were currently the 3rd person in line. Pulling your phone out, you checked for any notifications. There was one. Clicking it open, it stated that the meeting you scheduled to have for next week had been pushed to today. Picturing your schedule, you had some free time later in the afternoon. Nodding, you sent out a reply and moved a step forward.

The day had just begun and things were starting to become busy. Thank gods the coffee shop smelled amazing. The exposed beans generously spread out its aroma around the cafe. Soft jazz music played in the background, enough to blend in with the buzzing chit chats of customers. A hint of mayoram and geranium gifted your sense of smell.

‘Wait..’ Your eyes began to scan the area. There was only one person whose wallet could afford such a scent.

“For an officer,” Overhaul said from behind you. “You’re quite slow.”

Pivoting, you were face to face with him. A new and very identical jacket replacing the old one. However, there was something off about his look today. His golden orbs simply stared back at you. Taking in your puzzled features. Then it hit you. A gasp escaped your mouth.

“Did the bird fly away or is this a new look?” He was without the bird beak. Instead, a simple black mask covered the lower half of his face. What was he hiding underneath that mask? Did he have a scar on his lip? A burn? If his eyes were breathtaking, what could possibly even out such a marvel? Subtly, you shook your head. What in the world were you thinking?

“I choose whether or not to wear the mask.” He replied. His latex wrapped hands motioning you to move forward. “This is one of the cleanest cafes that live up to my standards. It may not look like it but the smell of coffee beans are rather attractive.”

“It’s been a while, (Y/N)!” The employee greeted you. She giggled at how she broke your train of thought. It was something she barely got to see after all. “Will you have the usual?”

“Uh, N-no. For today, I’d like a choco chip supreme with less ice.” Your cheeks began to burn up as you had stuttered. Reaching for your wallet, you felt a foot gently kicking you. Looking up at the source, you stepped aside and waited for his move.

“2 Americano’s.” Overhaul ordered. In the corner of his eyes, he saw how your cheeks were beginning to turn a faint shade of red. As expected, this was interesting for him. “I’ll pay for her order as well.”

“You don’t have to.” You put up your palms and were only met with silence as he handed the payment.

“Put it under her name.” He instructed the employee to which she agreed. When both of you were given the line to wait for your orders, Overhaul signed for you to follow him to a vacant table near the window. Pulling the seat, he waited for you to sit down. To which you did.

“What do you want, Overhaul?”

“Can I not spend time with the person I’m assisting?” His hands remained on his lap. Sure, the table was clean but he wasn’t taking chances. Glancing at the window, his stare glued to the black car parked across the street. He could imagine Chrono inside slowly losing his patience. “I merely wanted an update for your plus one.”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“Bring the first person that pops in your mind.” He tilted his head once more. “Isn’t that how you people think?”

“So you’re not a person?”

“I’m clean compared to you.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a clean person.” You pouted and pointed your index at him. The way his eyes widened with fear at the possible contamination was rather amusing. “You just wouldn’t know because you're afraid of dust. I bet your immune system is low.”

“Hmph. On the contrary, my health is pristine and well taken care of. I simply choose not to touch filthy people like you. I do make exceptions every now and then.”

“They must be blessed.” You rolled your eyes and the sound of your name broke through the jazz and chatter. “Well, make yourself useful and get our orders.”

“Of course.”

That had to make you wonder. He did not flinch, show any signs of annoyance, or even scoff at your command. Instead, Overhaul silently lifted his chair and made his way towards the counter. Seeing him bow as he received the beverages was weird. For someone who murders people, he sure is polite when it comes to mannerisms. Perhaps, those traits of his were already present. Even before becoming a villain.

When he sat back down, he took a tissue and wrapped it around your cold drink. Placing it in front of you along with the straw.

“Be my plus one.” You blurted out. Your view focused on him.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He stood up and lowered his head. “I shall pick you up at 6. Is that fine?”

“Yeah.”

“If nothing else, I shall leave you be. Chronostasis must be fuming by now.” Before turning to leave, he had the audacity to add. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Following his body, you stared as he crossed the street and entered the same car he had been eyeing at.

Inside the car. Overhaul closed his eyes and listened to the small complaints his companion had. The visit to the shop was never intended but when he saw your figure walking down the street and entering the quaint shop, the decision to stop the car only caused Chrono to wonder.

Handing him the bird mask, he watched as his boss wore the contraption.

“Send the RSVP later.” He instructed. His voice muffled once again. “Use the alias we usually hand out for events like this. And call in the tailor. I’ll be needing a new suit.”

“That woman has taken your interests.” He commented.

“No.”

“Then why bother following her?”

“I did not follow her, Kurono.” He corrected his assistant. “It was merely chance running into her at this time of day. Besides, it’s amusing how she does not seem to hold such fear when I am around.”

Curling the sleeves of his jacket, he observed his skin. Not a sign of breakouts. In his subtle attempts to place himself close to you, he had come to the conclusion that you were relatively pure. Save for your quirk of course.

Speaking of quirk, there were still no updates regarding that information. Imagining the sum of money the Abegawa Tenchu Kai had to pay to keep that hidden was something he had to praise. The same could be said for his real name. Did you even know what his name was? Or were you left with redacted articles regarding that?

Closing his eyes once more, his thoughts went to the headquarters where his experiments were now running a bit late. Still, a few minutes delay was something he could live by.

Meanwhile, you were now preparing what explanation to give Tsukauchi. You had already given him a reasonable explanation as to why you would want to go with Overhaul. It also wouldn’t be the first time you would inform him of such unconventional choices you made. Ruffling your hair, you clicked your tongue and took a deep sip. “Uhm, (Y/N)?”

From the window, your view shifted to the employee. In her hand was a tray with a blueberry cheesecake. A shy smile resting on her feminine features. Scratching her nape, she let out an awkward giggle.

“The man told me to give you this after he left.” She said as she placed the dessert on the shiny brown surface.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” You stared at the cheesecake and immediately took your phone. Looking for the unknown number, you were only hoping that this was his personal number and not one that would alert the whole Shie Hassaikai. Sending the message with a rapidly beating heart, you cursed yourself for feeling this way.

To calm you down, you scrolled a little further and finally dialed your partner.

“Nao. I’m taking Bird boy with me.”

A long sigh was heard on the other side of the call. If you could bet money, you were sure he was massaging the bridge of his nose and leaning onto his chair.

“As much as I do not trust him, that would have to be the best decision for now,”

That went… smoother than you had initially thought.

“What’d you just gather?” Curiosity lacing your voice.

“A lot of big names are invited but we noticed that a handful of them are villains. Notably Akuji, Nokusu, and if our records are right, Tamisura.”

“Shit.”

----

are yall enjoying the story so far? :’) comment or message me if you want to be a part of Overhaul’s waiting list or any questions about the story :)

[litwitlady]

The Story of Two Cosmic Clowns Who Fell in Love

How about some silly fun for your evening? I posted part of this yesterday. Been thinking about expanding this story for weeks. Let’s see where it goes. Here’s part one! Meant as nothing more than a tropey good time.

His last client leaves at 8:15. Alex cracks his neck and stretches his arms over his head. Tax day is always the worst, but at least he isn’t going to be stuck in the office until midnight this year. 

‘We’re leaving, boss!’ Liz shouts. Maria sticks her head in his office and gives a little wave. 

‘Take tomorrow off. Tell Liz. See y’all on Wednesday.’ Maria blows him a kiss and then they are both gone, their laughter echoing down the hallway and into freedom.

Alex sighs and starts shutting down his computer. His thoughts drift to the song he is working on and how he finally has time to get back to his true love. At least they’d had a good tax season. Revenues up 15% over the previous year. Maybe he’ll actually be able to record something professionally.

Just as he is putting his laptop bag over his shoulder, his door bursts open and a ball of chaotic energy comes barreling at him, papers shaking in his fist. ‘I need your help.’

And here it is. His newfound peace too good to be true. ‘We’re closed.’

‘No, please. I’m literally begging you. I’ll get on my knees if need be.’ The innuendo hits Alex hard. He takes a moment to drink the man in. He is a wreck - tousled mop of curls, wide golden eyes, and too much exposed chest hair. A silver and turquoise belt buckle completes the look. 

Alex swallows. So, he’s attractive. So what? ‘I said, we’re closed. Sorry. File an extension.’

‘I don’t know how to do that.’ The man shrugs, having the decency to look mildly ashamed.

Again, Alex sighs, deeply aggrieved. ‘Google it, cowboy.’ He moves from behind his desk and makes to bypass the handsome stranger, but said handsome stranger grabs his elbow to spin him around. Alex loses his balance, his prosthetic pinching uncomfortably. 

Next thing he knows, the cowboy’s arms are wrapped tightly around him, fingernails digging not unpleasantly into his back. ‘Whoa, man. I’m sorry.’ Their chests are pressed together and neither makes to move away. Alex watches the man’s tongue dart out, licking across his bottom lip. He feels his own tongue echo the movement. The cowboy grins. Cheeks flaming, Alex scrambles to get out of his grip.

‘My name’s Michael.’ He sticks out his hand. ‘Michael Guerin.’

But Alex is too afraid to touch him again and so just nods. ‘I’m Alex.’

Michael smirks at him. ‘Right, Alex Manes. Said so on the door.’ He pushes the crumpled papers back at Alex. ‘I can pay. Well, I can pay in installments, anyway. Or labor! I’m very handy.’

Alex desperately tries to pretend that his mind doesn’t immediately picture Michael’s long, calloused fingers wrapped around his cock. He shifts awkwardly back to his desk counting backwards from ten to calm himself and his ridiculous libido. Frustratingly reminded of how long it’s been since he’d slept with anyone. ‘I really think you should file an extension. That looks like a lot of paperwork.’

‘I do contract jobs, mostly. These are all my 1099s.’ He hands them over to Alex, their fingers lightly brushing. Alex jerks back like he’s been burned. Silently curses to himself. Shuffles through the documents as a distraction.

‘There has to be over a dozen forms here. You’re definitely filing an extension because I refuse to do any more than that tonight.’ He sits back down at his desk and pulls out his laptop.

‘Hot date?’ Michael bypasses the chairs meant for sitting and hops up on the desk. He starts fiddling with a stapler.

Alex snorts. ‘Yeah, with my dog. She’s probably starving. Thanks to you.’

Michael swings his legs around the desk so that his thigh and Alex’s arm are pressed together. ‘Does all this mean you’ll help me?’

But for Alex, words have lost all meaning. Michael’s thigh is hot – like, excessively so. And firm and inviting and too much. He tries to discreetly edge away from the contact, but Michael’s leg is having none of that. Where Alex goes so does that very thick, very sexy jean-clad thigh. He swallows. ‘The fee will be high.’

Michael’s face lights up. ‘That’s fine! Um, do you mind me paying in labor, though? Money might take literal years. As you’ll soon see. And the sign outside does need some serious work.’

‘What’s wrong with my sign?’ Alex dares a glance up at Michael. It’s a mistake. All he sees is mouth and lip and teeth. Plus, he’d forgotten about the chest hair.

‘Besides the name, you mean?’ Michael cocks his head and raises an eyebrow.

Alex blushes. ‘It’s a long story.’

‘A long story?’ He leans back, hands bracing him from behind, thighs spreading. Alex longs to crawl between them and put his stupid expensive desk to work. See if he’d gotten his money’s worth.

‘Yeah. I lost a bet.’ He turns his eyes back to the computer screen.

‘So, not that long a story, then?’ Michael winks, badly – looking more like a muscle has spasmed. And that should be unattractive. Embarrassing even. Except Alex wants to watch him fail at winking for maybe the rest of his life.

This night must end. And end quickly.

‘Hey, at least Cosmic Clowns, CPA is memorable. And it’s got the whole alliteration thing going for it.’ Alex thinks vaguely of Kyle Valenti and that stupid bet. Knows his business’s name is unforgivable. But he’s ready to defend it to the death anyway.

Michael gives him a ‘yeah right’ look and nods his head pitifully. ‘Even clown schools don’t actually use the word ‘clown’ in their advertising.’

Alex scoffs. ‘Lies. You’re making that up.’ He finishes filing Michael’s extension and shuts the computer – hopefully, for the last time.

‘Google it, Captain.’ He looks down at Alex, reeking of self-satisfaction.

But all Alex hears is that word. A word he thought he’d rid himself of years ago. It’s like a cold shower and a lava bath all at once. ‘Why did you call me Captain?’

The humor in Michael’s face disappears, reading Alex’s discomfort immediately. ‘Sorry. I’m just aware of who you are. Hero’s parade and all. Won’t happen again.’

Alex’s voice goes all business. ‘Your extension gives you six extra months to file. Well, I guess it gives me six extra months to file on your behalf. You can start work Wednesday morning. We open at 9.’ He gives Michael a thin smile, repacks his bag, and motions the other man forward.

They exit the building in silence. Michael turns to say goodbye, but Alex is already halfway down the block, limping slightly. Michael watches him climb into his Explorer and pull away. He tucks his keys back into his front pocket and decides to get a jump-start on fixing the cracked sign above him – half its lights dead or dying. Imagines the look of surprise on Alex’s face when he gets to work Wednesday morning. And who needs sleep with the promise of a beautiful boy with a pretty smile in their future? Certainly not Michael Guerin.

[musicanddancingthroughlife]

Shklance - Courting

I worked hard on this one, guys. Hope you like it; I think it’s one of my favorites :)

Pretty sure next week I will be posting an MCU story, because I have a finished one in my files and it’s midterm season so I’ve really not had a ton of brains left to write haha. I do still have one that I’m working on, and then I think I actually finally figured out what I want to continued my necromancer!Lance story, so hopefully I can work on that this week and have it ready to go soon. But really, this is me apologizing cause I’m really not sure how much new stuff I’ll get written, but midterms should end this week :)

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           Really, in hindsight, they supposed it was kind of obvious. All it took was a few study dates with Lance, the last of these ending with Lance realizing he was late for work and rushing out of their apartment, so distracted he didn’t even realize that he’d hugged Shiro (who had just returned from fetching him a glass of water) and kissed Keith on the cheek on his way out, leaving both of them standing there staring at him like idiots.

Shiro recovered first and glanced quickly at Keith to see if he’d noticed. He chuckled at the look on his boyfriend’s face. “You know you’re smitten, right?”

           “Oh ya, like you’re not?” Keith shot back. Shiro sighed.

           “I never said I wasn’t, Keith, would you relax? I was just making an observation.”            “Just making an observation, my ass,” Keith muttered mutinously. There was a pause, and then Keith relented. “What are we gonna do?”

           “We court him.”

           Despite the tension in the room, Keith found himself bursting into laughter at that. “Court him?” he sputtered, “What the hell century are you living in, Shiro?”

           “Oh shut up!” Shiro snapped, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose flushing a deep red. “He deserves to be treated well!”            “Well that, at least, I can agree with.” Keith finally managed to calm himself down, and then he moved toward Shiro. “What about us?”

           Shiro looked down at him blankly. “What about us? I know for a fact you don’t want to be wooed, and I don’t need to be courted, plus we’re already dating.”

           Keith stared at him. “But what if he—”

           “Keith,” Shiro broke in, now chuckling himself, “we’re courting him together, you got that, right? It’s both of us or neither of us, ya moron.”

           “…Oh. I didn’t… didn’t know that was a thing.”

           Shiro gave him a bright smile and pulled Keith into a hug. “That’s okay, but I think we’ve got something to teach you about polyamorous relationships before we even try to court Lance, don’t you think?”

           “Fine. But after that…”

           “Yeah. After that, we make our move on Lance. Promise.”

             It took some time, but soon enough Keith had been educated on the how’s of polyamorous relationships, and they had worked out a game plan to get Lance’s attention. It was a simple plan: Lance had mentioned wishing he had the time to relax that weekend. They knew he had several tests over the course of a few days, and that he had been working more hours than usual that month, in the hopes of saving enough money for tickets back home during their upcoming break. The problem was, Lance hadn’t had a chance to clean his apartment, and so was planning to use his weekend to catch up on those things. But Keith had pointed out how much Lance’s work seemed to be suffering during their study sessions, his normally correct work somehow coming out wrong 9 times out of 10, and his beautiful penmanship nothing more than chicken scratch. Shiro had responded by sharing that Lance had looked especially tired the last couple of days especially, his normally soft and shiny hair greasier than they’d ever seen, and dark shadows under his eyes.

           So that productive weekend he was expecting (but they knew he was also dreading)? Not happening. They would take care of it for him, and then make sure he got the relaxing weekend he was so desperately craving (even if he wouldn’t say that he was).

           Now, neither of them were entirely sure how they were going to get into Lance’s apartment, but Keith was confident he would be able to manage fairly easily.

           Unfortunately, Shiro was a jerk and also a fun-sucker, and he wouldn’t let Keith break into Lance’s apartment (even after promising that he “wouldn’t damage anything and would be super, super careful, c’mon, Shiroooo!”), so they wound up going to their local Lance expert.

           “Um, no offense, cause I love you guys and you’re both absolutely my friends, but like. Why do you need a key to Lance’s apartment?”

           It may have looked like Hunk was including both of them in his question, but Keith knew, okay he just knew that Hunk was eyeing him suspiciously. He huffed. He’d only dumped chocolate sauce on Lance the one time, and it had been a complete accident. It’s not like he spent all his free time trying to figure out how to make Lance’s life miserable! He was too busy dreaming of hugging him, and kissing him, and bringing him food and gifts… Oops. He’d zoned out again.

           “…trying to help him, I promise, Hunk. He just seems like he’s under a lot of stress, and we want to try and take care of some of it for him,” Shiro was saying.

           Hunk bit his lip, a flash of something in his eyes. Keith was curious, but before he could say anything, Hunk had set his jaw, determination in every single one of his features. “Don’t worry about a key, you guys will manage.”

           At that, Shiro and Keith exchanged confused looks, but before Shiro could ask, Hunk was already marching away. There was a moment of silence, and then…

           “Cool, I still get to break in!” Keith cheered.

           Shiro sighed.

           Okay, so yeah, Keith had figured breaking in would be easy… but not that easy.

           “What the hell?!” Keith stared at Shiro’s hand in shock, still resting on the knob of the completely unlocked door to Lance’s apartment. “What is he doing; that’s not safe at all!”

           Shiro was inspecting the door frame and the knob, and after some fiddling he said, “I think the lock is busted.”

           “…What?”

           “He didn’t do it on purpose, Keith,” Shiro said, moving further into the apartment and looking around curiously. His heart sunk as he took in their precious boy’s living space. “Damn he’s been struggling a lot more than he let on.”

           Keith followed, and he was sad to see that Shiro was right. The kitchen was bare, a small number of dishes stacked in the sink, and none remaining in the cupboards. Keith left Shiro inspecting the kitchen to go take a look at the bedrooms. In one, most of the walls and shelves were bare of any personalization, although there were some pictures of their friend group and some of Lance’s family and childhood friends slapped up haphazardly near the bed. The bed itself was perfectly made and even slightly dusty, as if Lance didn’t sleep there often. The other bedroom was even more empty than this one, and how long had Lance been without a roommate?

           Keith wandered back towards the kitchen. “Shiro… how many hours did Lance say he was working, again?”

           “…30…”

           “And how much do these apartments cost?”

           Shiro crossed his arms. “More than he’s making with just his shop at the coffee shop. Unless he has a roommate.”

           Keith gestured back down the hall at the bedrooms. “Well you can rule out the roommate.”

           “…well, shit. No wonder he’s so tired all the time.”

Keith huffed. “What are we gonna do, Shiro? We can’t let him keep doing this to himself!”

           Shiro’s face was twisted into a grimace, eyes lost in thought. Then he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides, body loosening its tense stance. “Let’s just… Let’s do what we came to do, and we’ll talk to him when he comes home. Maybe call Hunk and talk to him first. But, I promise, Keith, we’ll figure out a way to help him. Maybe see if he wants to move in with us, since we’re off campus and have a little more room. We’ll figure it out.”

           Keith nodded, relief shining in his eyes as Shiro took charge, easily directing their cleaning efforts as they bounced ideas off of each other. Keith was a big fan of having Lance move in; all they would need was a bigger bed! Shiro had shook his head and laughed, a counteroffer at the ready.

           “Keith, we can’t rush this. Lance is a proud guy; he may not want to move in with us right off the bat.”

           “But—”

           “Oh, we’re definitely going to offer it to him. You and I usually share a room anyway, and he can have the second bedroom. But he might prefer to stay here and have some independence. Then maybe we could offer to help pay the second half of his rent. Or even just sneak some groceries into his apartment. Just keep an open mind, okay?”

           Keith was quiet for so long that Shiro was afraid he’d upset him somehow, so he abandoned his current task of organizing all the homework and textbooks that had been scattered around the floor of the living room area (glaring at the blanket and pillow on the couch, because he was pretty sure those meant that Lance had been sleeping on the couch more than his own bed and that was a horrible thought).

           “Keith?” he called.

           When he was met with more silence, his worry only grew, until he turned the tight corner and found Keith sitting on his butt in front of some cabinets. Keith looked up at him, tears in his eyes and all but wailed at Shiro, “He doesn’t even have any food in here!”

           Shiro closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.

           Yeah, they were going to be having words with their boy, this was just unacceptable.