#and I have gone over 24 hours without sleep to finish a fic

[dearsnow]

TWO MONTHS

- work is taking a heavy toll on your boyfriend. (patrick verona x gn!reader, angst and slight fluff, established relationship)

word count: 657

a/n - another patrick fic :) i love him so much it’s not even funny. he’s my current hyperfixation- that being said, to all my patrick lovers out there, i’m planning a 3 part series for him <3 it’s called the summer before senior year and hopefully i get around to finishing it lol

Patrick closes the door to your apartment with a heavy sigh. The day rests heavily on his hunched shoulders, leaking through his pores as grease and dejection. You stir from your place on the couch. It’s 12:24 AM, and he is just returning from work. His hair is messy, tied up in a frizzy ponytail, and his eyes hold no sparkle. He doesn’t look like himself anymore. Your brows furrow, the weight of his condition nearly bringing tears to your eyes.

“Pat, it’s past midnight.” You murmur, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. There is a smudge of dirt on his face, which you wipe away with delicate fingers. He melts under your touch. “This isn’t healthy.” He takes both of your hands in his, kissing each one gently.

“I have to.” He grimaces. “Rent’s gone up, baby. You know that.” You lead him to your bed. The sheets are messy, as they always are. In his exhaustion, he does not care; not like he ever did, anyways. “The boys at the car shop offered me this, and I took it.” It hurts you so badly to see him like this. He seems flat, dull, lifeless. Nothing like the Patrick you met, and nothing like you ever wish him to be again. You need him to be happy. He deserves it, if nothing else. He deserves everything good- he deserves the sunshine and tender love and a quiet kiss of calm, but you can only offer him so much.

He lays back, and you pull the sheets over his chest. “I can take a second job.” You say, tracing circles on his chest. He’s too tired to take off his clothes, and you won’t force him to. He’ll be out of the house by 5:00, and he needs all the sleep he can get. He shakes his head at your suggestion, looking at you with soft eyes.

“You have college and the diner already. You’re stretched as thin as you can be.” He whispers, threading his hand through yours again.

“I still have free hours. Not much, but enough to get you some proper rest.” You manage to say. The bags under his eyes speak for themselves. He’ll end up dead if he keeps working like this. You can’t do this without him, any of it. If he dies, if he ends up in some hospital being fed by the few coins you have left dripping through his veins, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. You would gladly work every hour of every day just to see him healthy again. That isn’t realistic, though, and you know it. He’ll never let you take on that burden. You love him for it, but sometimes, his stubborn nature takes hold of him.

“No. This works, what we’re doing. We’ll be fine.” His voice is scratchy and low, but with just enough force to let you know he means it. When he looks at your face, eyes shining with unshed tears, his heart shatters. He kisses your hands again. “I promise, baby, we’ll be out of this soon enough. In two months we’ll have the money to take a break for a little bit. I’ll work lighter hours and we might even have enough saved to take you out on a proper date.” He smiles. You laugh quietly, though the sound is choked. Hot tears force themselves out of your eyes.

“Two months.” You repeat. He nods. “Two long ass fucking months.”

He starts to laugh, slowly at first, until you join. You wrap your arms around him as you giggle into his chest, and his whole body is shaking with the force of his snickering. 

“Two goddamn bitches of months.” He offers, still grinning like a madman. He laughs, and you laugh in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, you think that things might end up working out.

Taglist (misc): @skeletonfromthecloset

[go-follow-vibingouthere]

Kaimelia Fic Update/Sneak Peek

For anyone that cares...

I'm still writing the post 18x20 Kaimelia fic I posted about 2 months ago lol. Had a bit of an identity crisis after graduating college + the hyper fixation was becoming less... hyper, so I haven't actually worked on it since late June until this week. RN I've got ~3.5k words that are actually useable and good and another ~13k (I know 🙃) of... Over stuff lol (some of it's useable, some of it's redundant, etc.). I won't post it until it's done; I hate disappointing people and wouldn't wanna get anyone's hopes up just to never finish it. I am fucking DETERMINED to get this out before the new season starts.

However... Because I'm a glutton for attention and I know the fandom is in a drought rn... I wanna give y'all a sneak peek of the first 500 words or so. Without further ado:

Kai had never kissed anybody in the rain before… It was nice. Like a scene from a movie. Kai could imagine some grandiose love song playing in the background of this moment, the music swelling when Amelia’s lips met their own. Picture-perfect…

It had been a long day. A long few weeks, really. Whatever anxiety Kai had experienced during that dinner party, surrounded by Amelia’s intimidating web of a family, had only increased after their semi-break up on the swings; and, with it, came wave after wave of self-loathing, anger, and despair. They couldn’t eat, they couldn’t work, they couldn’t sleep, they couldn’t function.

Not even the paper being published—years and years of work and effort finally being recognized—was enough to lift their spirits. Every potentially happy thought about it—every stray thought they’d had since the last time they were in Seattle—just led back to her. Their text to her upon hearing the news (“thinking of you”) wasn’t a lie: if anything, it was an understatement.

The irony plagued them. They had once boasted to Amelia that they needed very little sleep to function and look where that had landed them: impulse buying a plane ticket to Seattle after another restless 24 hours, running through the airport to make it on time, all 6’ 1” of them jammed into a middle seat on a rickety Spirit Airlines flight, their hastily packed carry-on containing nothing but two shirts, pajama bottoms, underwear, and a toothbrush. All without a shred of hope to cling to that she’d even want to see them, let alone take them back.

But she did… at least, tentatively.

She was kissing them, in the rain, and Kai felt like they could finally breathe again. The risk of drowning at sea was averted: her presence alone pushed their exhausted, waterlogged mind back to shore. The monumental pain of their actions was gone. The weight and stress that had sat in their shoulders and upper back had finally dissipated. Relief flooded over them and they were left to ponder happier ideas… like which movies had the best rain kiss scenes.

(They managed The Notebook, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Spider-Man, A Cinderella Story, and that one episode of Friends before Amelia pulled away for breath, her forehead slumped against theirs.)

The rain was getting worse by the second; having started as barely a sprinkle, it was now quickly becoming a considerable downpour. They could feel their hair getting heavier, sticking to their forehead in odd spots, matted after Amelia’s handiwork.

Her hands eventually came down to rest on their shoulders. They stayed breathing each other’s breath, eyes closed and hands still, for a long time, quiet despite the environmental rage surrounding them…

They were tempted to kiss her again, being that close for so long. And they nearly did. Hesitantly brushing their nose alongside hers, receiving no comments or requests to stop, they brought their hand up to her cheek, ready to join their lips again and—

“Amelia!” someone called out from the hospital exit, their voice carrying over the dense rain.

The bubble popped.

Hope you enjoyed :) I hope to have it out in full beginning/mid-September.

[otptings]

Insomnia

-Idol ~ Kun

-Genre ~ Sick Fic, Smut, Fluff

-Warnings ~ insomnia, lack of appetite & weight loss, pillow princess by force, oral (f receiving), passionate fucking, dry humping? (she's half naked but he's fully dressed), daddy kink, rough sex, choking, degradation,

-Word Count ~ 2.9k+

-Synopsis ~ Sleeping never comes easy to. You've tried everything from exercising, to warm milk. Maybe the one thing you've been missing is some late night loving?

-A/n ~ loosely inspired by sky Insomnia, the rose insomnia, and dreamcatcher sleep-walking. best to listen to any of those songs as you read it, might help set the mood even though those are all break up songs lmfao. I also have my ko-fi link in my bio help raise more money to help me buy essentials for my emotional support animal, I cannot work at the minute because of my treatment for type 1 bipolar disorder, and door dash doesn't allow me to save up abundantly enough, if you could even only share it I would greatly appreciate it. anyway hope you enjoy this and thank you for reading

Sleep and you have always had a complicated relationship. Fighting sleep as a kid, climbing out of your bed after your parents tucked you in, playing with your toys until you passed out among us. At sleepovers you were always the one who stayed up all night, too excited to actually get tired.

As a teenager spending nights before school desperately trying to finish homework, staying up until the early morning hours, quickly taking a shower before running to the bus. If you had no assignments your crush at the time would distract you, joking and blushing until it was time to leave for school, bags under your eyes prominent, but the loss of sleep was worth it.

Now the only thing you wanted was to sleep.

Insomnia took over your life. Staying up sometimes days at a time, struggling to calm your racing thoughts that were determined to keep you up at night. They won most nights. Laying in your bed, struggling to get comfortable or staring up at the ceiling, willing sleep to overtake you. Even with the medication from the doctor you struggled to get more than 3 hours a night.

You tried other remedies too. Drinking warm milk with cinnamon and vanilla, the warm concoction soothing but never tiring you out. Exercising before bed that truly made you feel amazing but never worked to tire you out, only forcing you to feel the soreness in your body as you laid in bed. No electronics before bed helped you finish multiple books series that you had wanted to start but never had time for, but didn't work.

Everything you tried was in vain. Sleep continued to evade you, and it only took a higher toll on your physical body.

Your appetite started to lessen, your weight slowly declined. The bags under your eyes only got deeper and darker. Concerns about your physical state came form your friends, their worries growing as you continued to get worst and worst. It came to a peak when you almost passed out at an outing, shaky from the constant stream of caffeine that you were consuming in order to function properly, your eyes fluttering close as you collapsed into their arms. Concern was properly covering their face, and they rushed you to the hospital, you were too weak to even try and decline them.

At the hospital they gave you strict instructions to stay home and rest, with someone watching you over to make sure that you were properly taken care of. Along with instructions you got even stronger medication, 20 mgs stronger than what you were currently taking.

Kun being the thoughtful person he is offered to watch you while you were on bedrest. He was the best candidate out of your friends, the others practically pushing you to accept him.

Kun has been the best assistant? nurse? friend that you could ask for. Constantly at your beck and call making sure that you were drinking plenty of water, cooking you fresh homemade meals, and making sure your medication was taken on time. Along with that he also did the awkward task of helping you to the bathroom, since you were still shaky and weak at times.

He did this all without complaint, catering to you everyday and making sure that you were cared for. Sometimes when he wasn't busy with his own work he would sit and watch a drama with you, or just engage in conversation telling you about his day, and the funny things he did and heard.

Having him helping you 24/7 for 2 weeks straight, had caused some unwelcome feelings. Your friends weren't surprised at that, having been part of the reason why they suggested he did it, knowing your past feelings for him. With only a week left of your bedrest you were saddened at the thought that he was leaving, going back to only talking to him once or twice a week whenever the friend group hung out.

Kun had actually been the one who surprised you. Seeing that you were still up one night, thoughts of him running through your mind when he entered your room. Upon seeing you awake he sat on your bed, holding your hand as you asked what's up. You weren't truthful. Who would be truthful in that scenario? 'Hey actually I was up thinking about my crush on you and the desire that I constantly have to kiss you."

You were positive that wouldn't have gone through well.

Kun rubbed your hand soothingly, listening patiently to you as you lied about what you were thinking about, fake worries and complaints about going back to work. Offering you advice was always Kun's strong suit so you were ready for some good advice despite your lies.

That's what got you in this peculiar position.

Lip tucked tightly between your teeth, the taste of copper on your tongue. One hand grasping at the pillow behind you squeezing it tightly between your fingers, the other intertwined with dark blue hair as you tried not to pull too hard.

Kun thought the best thing to clear your mind was sex, and who were you to deny his generous offer.

You felt your hips jerking as tongue pressed his tongue against your hole, shallowly fucking into you. His free hand rubbed up your thigh, the sensation combining with him eating you out causing your mind to start to go blurry. His hand continued to glide up, before pressing down on your hips, forcing them down on the bed.

Without the ability to move you could only lie there as he continued to tongue fuck you. The fire in your stomach increasing, and Kun seemed to know it as he kissed your clit before sucking on it aggressively, causing your first orgasm to rip through your body.

Kun continued his ministrations, licking up your cum causing the fire to come back threefold. Kun sucked on your clit, flicking his tongue over it as you wriggled from the sensitivity. He seemed to be made for this, the way his tongue knew the perfect ways to fuck you open, and he hadn't even involved his fingers or cock yet.

Pulling away from your cunt you saw your juices covering Kun's mouth leaking down his chin. His hair was sticking every which way how you were messing, and pulling on it. Kun looked like all of your wet dreams had happened to come through.

"So pretty." A laugh let his mouth, a smiling spreading over his lips.

"Wish you could see yourself," Kun slid his hand up and down your thigh, rubbing it soothingly, "You're gorgeous. I've been wanting to do this for so long."

Kun changed the positions so that you were on top, straddling his thighs. You could feel his cock straining against his jeans, rubbing over your oversensitive clit in the best way possible. A whimper left your mouth as you started to rock on him, but Kun stilled your hips. His hand slid to your chin, rubbing his thumb along the side of your jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" You didn't bother answering, meeting him halfway. His chapped lips moved against your own as if you've done it before, there was a familiarity to it that made you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him flush against your chest. Sliding his hands up and down your body, lips moving in sync against yours. You nipped at his lip, causing a loud groan to leave his mouth as he opened it for you. Sliding your tongue into his mouth you reveled in the feeling of him taking dominance. His hands gripping your ass tightly, his tongue roughly dancing with yours.

You pulled away, placing your hips on his shoulders as you continued to grind against him. Another groan leaving his mouth as he moved you against him, forcing you to press down harder and faster against him.

"God baby." He leaned back as he looked at you, admiring the way you moved against him, needy and wanting to cum again. "You're so need baby. Who's got you like this hm?" You dropped your head back, continuing to rock your hips against his. Kun felt his cock twitching in his pants at the sight, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you close to him, placing kisses along your neck and collarbones.

"Kun I need you." You tried to sound strict but it came breathy, a moan following it as he kisses over your jugular, nipping at it before listening to your 'command'. Flipping you over he gave you a peck, before pulling away to take off his clothes. You decided to join him stripping out of your shirt and throwing it across the room.

Kun crawled back over you, but he stopped just taking the time to stare at you.

"I need to say this before. I'm not just fucking you because of your insomnia, I'm not just fucking you to fuck you." Kun intertwined your fingers, "I really like you. I don't want this to just not mean anything to you, when I really like you. Even thought we're doing this backward I hope you can at least think of going on a date with me." You felt your face heat up, and the familiar feeling of fluttering in your stomach at his confession. Placing your hand on his cheek you leaned up, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"I like you too Kun. More than I can put words to." A big smile spread across his face as he leaned down, showering your face with kisses. "But if you don't put your dick in me right now, you might not ever get that date." A laugh left his mouth as he placed one last kiss against your check, before grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it up and down your cunt. Collecting some of your juices over his tips he looked down as he pressed into you, muttering a fuck at the sight of you taking him in so well. You threw your head back feeling the fuzziness come back, feeling how well he slid into you.

When Kun bottomed out he placed your still intertwined hands on the pillow beside you, his other hand sliding back to your hip.

"Fuck you feel so good." He growled as he waited for you to adjust, feeling your tight walls practically sucking him in.

"Please move. Please I need you." Kun placed a gentle kiss on your pouty lips before pulling. Thrusting back into you he set a slow pace, being gentle with you not forgetting that you were still on bed rest. Your other arm wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer to him. Feeling skin against skin as he continued to slowly fuck you, enjoying the feeling of him being close to you.

It was more intimate than it should've been, being the first time that you two were having sex but with Kun it felt right. This was more love making than casual fucking and you wouldn't have it any other way. The coil in your stomach started to tighten, Kun's groans helping greatly to push you towards the edge, but the pace he had set wasn't doing it for you.

"Kun." He slowed down, hearing the desperation in your voice and not wanting to hurt you.

"Yes baby? Am I hurting you?" You could hear the slight panic in his voice and shook your head, before meeting his eyes.

"Faster please. I need you rougher." Kun pushed your hair back, before cupping your cheek.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you, you were just hospitalized."

"Please fuck me harder. I need you to ruin me daddy." At your words Kun's eyes darkened and without warning he thrust into you hard, causing a punched out moan to leave your mouth.

The mood changed just the way you needed it to, instead of being slow love sex Kun was fucking you. Hips meeting during every perfectly timed thrust, hitting deep within you as the sound of his balls smacking against your ass filled the room. He let go of your hand, instead opting to grab your waist and pulled you to meet him halfway on every thrust.

Ceaseless moans leaving your lips at the feeling of him fucking into you so beautifully, filling every inch of you. Opening your eyes that hadn't even realized had closed you were met by the sight of Kun, sweat glistening over his abs and dripping down his face. His hair plastered to his forehead, as he bit his lip harshly trying to hold back his groans. Your neighbors should really thank him for having some self control.

Kun slowed down as he lifted your legs up, pushing them towards your chest, folding you in half as he continued his rough pace. This new position causing you to feel him in your chest, the feeling of fullness completely overtaking you as you orgasmed for the second time. He fucked you through your orgasm, the tingly feeling spreading towards your hips as overstimulation set in. Even though his cock was dragging against your walls beautifully, blunt tip pressing into your g spot it started to get painful.

The feeling of it being too much, but not enough at the same time. Tears welling up in your eyes, as Kun pressed against your legs pushing them back further and forcing his cock impossibly deeper.

"F-fuck daddy please." You didn't even know what you were begging for anyway, him effectively fucking you dumb, his hands gripping your thighs tightly to the point where you knew you'd have bruises the next day.

"So tight around me, your pussy is sucking me in even after two orgasms? What's wrong baby? Two isn't enough, you need me to milk another one out of you?" You couldn't respond to him, only listened to him as he spoke, groans leaving his mouth harmonizing with your moans almost.

"Poor baby is fucked dumb," A cruel laugh left his mouth as he stuffed two fingers into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers, twirling your tongue around them. "Can't even speak, only babble and suck on my fingers huh? Lucky you're so cute. You liked being called dumb huh? Can feel the way you're pussy clenched around me? Must be close again." You could only let out a muted moan, Kun's fingers still pressed against your tongue, gagging you effectively.

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth he slid his hand around your throat, tapping his too soaked fingers on the side of your neck.

"So close baby. So. fucking. close." Punctuating his words with an extra hard thrust in between you had lost the ability to think, his hand gently around your neck, more like an accessory but just at the thought of him choking you felt yourself drooling, his thrusts still reaching that spot inside of you that was so deep it'd never been touched before.

As if hearing your thoughts, Kun's hand tightened around your throat, pressing you against the mattress. You came at that moment, Kun's tip hitting your g spot perfectly. Your eyes rolled back as you felt like you had exploded, all of your energy draining out of you with your third orgasm of the night.

At the feeling of you clenching around him so tightly, practically holding you in place Kun pulled out and quickly jerked himself off, cumming over your lower stomach. Kun marveled at the sight of you laid out below him, lips swollen from biting them, hair frizzy from rubbing against the pillow, his white cum painting your stomach, a light red mark around your neck from his hand.

Kun let you sit for a couple minutes before carrying you to the bathroom for a well needed shower. Setting you on the toilet, he let you pee while he started the warm. When you were finished and the water was warm enough Kun helped you into the shower, letting you lean against him as he started to clean the cum from your body.

"Are you okay?" You looked up at Kun, basking in the feeling of the warm water running down your body as Kun rubbed the soapy loofa over your body.

"Never felt better." A crooked smile spread across your face, too tired to even continue the conversation. Kun kissed you on your temple , seemingly sensing it and helped you rinse out. After getting you redressed and back into your bed with clean sheets, Kun went to go to the living room until you grabbed his arm.

"Can you stay?" Even after having sex Kun was still nervous to sleep in the bed with you, but he obliged hearing your soft, sleepy voice. Climbing into bed with you he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you." Kun hummed, the vibration spreading through his chest and making you giggle.

"For?"

"Taking care of me." Kun placed another kiss on your head.

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to care for you. Now get some sleep." Cuddling further into Kun, the beat of his heart along with the rise and fall of his chest lulled you to sleep.

For the first time in years, you slept like a baby.

[reidsmemory]

Daycare

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Y/N is a high school teacher and Hotch’s niece. She meets the BAU one morning and feels a connection with one of the agents. A few weeks later she is involved in a kidnapping and has to get her students to safety. 

Genre: Action with some fluff

Quinn Speaks: Okay so I kinda got off track here and it’s more of a bad ass reader fic but I wrote the bulk of this at like 2 am. I hope you all enjoy and let me know if you want a part 2!!

not my gif!

     Your day started at 3 am. That’s right, 3 am. The buzzing noise of your phone woke you out of your slumber as you picked up the device and brought it up to your face, the blinding white light made your eyes adjust immediately. Uncle Aaron was listed as the caller ID and a picture of him, Jack, and yourself was also shown on the screen. 

     “Hello?” you said in your best ‘you totally didn’t wake me’ voice which really ended up being your ‘I’ve been dead for 5 years and been just revived’ voice instead.

     “Y/N, I’m really sorry, but I need you to come in to BAU. We just caught a case and I can’t a sitter for Jack so he’s here with me and-” the man would have kept rambling about the situation if you hadn’t cut him off.

     “No problem, Uncle Aaron. I’ll be there in 25 minutes.” You threw off your covers and began to walk over to your bathroom. 

     “You’re a lifesaver, thanks Y/N.” You hummed and he promptly hung up the call. You flipped on the light switch and saw that you had indeed looked like you had been dead for 5 years. You sighed and got to work. 

     You usually babysat Jack when Aaron was out of town for a case and your flat had become a second home for Jack. It wasn’t like that hadn’t happened before, him calling you about a case and needing you to watch Jack, no of course not. But he would usually call you a couple hours in advance or it would be during hours of the day when you were actually awake and running around. 

     You finished getting your hair to look quite decent all things considered and your teeth brushed and your face was washed. You decide to just throw a cardigan over your tank top and shorts and you made your way to the front door, grabbing your keys, phone, and some snacks for Jack as well as slipping on your strappy, tan sandals. 

     You locked your door and walked to the elevator on your floor and pressed the parking garage button. The elevator hummed as it went down and you yawned, stretching a bit as well.

     The doors dinged open and you made your way to your car and started to drive off. To keep your eyes awake, you played a classic rock station that was full of guitar solos and drum bangs that would surely keep you up. You pulled into a little drive through and got some coffees for yourself, your uncle, and his team as well as a hot chocolate for Jack.

     “25.96 is your total,” the cashier at the window said as you handed her your card. She was still ringing it up as she turned to you, “so, what’s got you up at 3 am and grabbing a shit load of coffee?”

     You chuckled lightly at her words, “babysitting emergency.” 

     She gave you a grin and handing you your card. “Well, good luck,” she said while handing you the holder for all the drinks as well as the drinks themselves. 

     “Thank you, have a good morning,” you said with a light smile.

     “Ditto.” She closed the windows and smiled as you drove off, you still had about 10 minutes to get to the BAU. Traffic was light which worked in your favor as well as living pretty close to the building. 

     You parked and started to get out with the coffees as you made your way to the entrance. You stepped inside as the security guards scanned you and checked the drinks and you were finally able to make your way up to the designated floor with a visitor pass.

     A woman with black hair came into elevator as well and you both exchanged good mornings and a light smiles. She was no doubt judging the outfit you were wearing, wondering where in the federal government you work that allowed you to come into work wearing your a sleep top and shorts as well as a big cardigan. 

     You both stepped out on the same floor and you made your way through the bullpen and straight to your uncle’s office.

     Emily watched you walk off and she furrowed her eyebrows, she had never seen you at the BAU before and now you were walking into her boss’ office with coffees and in your pj’s. “Do you know who that is?” she asked Spencer as he looked up from some paper work.

     “Who?” he asked as Emily discreetly pointed in your direction. Spencer furrowed his brows as he had never seen you before. He watched you walk up the small amount of stairs to Hotch’s office and noticed that you also had a visitor pass in you hand as well a some coffees. 

     “Spencer?” Emily said as he continued to watch you. “Reid!” she snapped in front of his face as he finally brought his attention back to Emily. He looked at her and quickly stole glances at you when he though she wasn’t watching. 

     She noticed. 

     Emily grinned at the younger man as he turned his attention back to Emily and blushed lightly, deciding to return to the papers in front of him, but not without sneaking another glance at you. 

     Your uncle opened the door and ushered you into his office where Jack was sleeping on the couch. “Thank you for coming,” his voice was quiet and you just smiled as he brought you into a hug. 

     “I got coffees for you and your team; needed one myself and figured you guys would want some too,” you whispered as Hotch smiled lightly and took the carrier from you. “So what happened?”

     “Missing child in Louisiana. He was over at a friends for a sleepover and was nabbed about an hour ago.” You nodded and frowned a bit as did your uncle.

     “Well, good thing they’ve got the best on the job,” you tried to lighten the mood as he held a closed lipped smile. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine.” 

     He nodded his head and grabbed some files from his desk and headed to the door of his office. You smiled at him as he said his goodbyes to Jack, waking him. 

     Hotch closed the door and was met by the stares of his team, “we’ll have to brief on the plane. There’s been a missing child report in Louisiana so wheels up in 10.” The team nodded and started to pack up and get ready. “My niece got us all fresh coffee as well,” he walked down the stairs and put the tray on an empty table. 

     “Y/N’s here?” Morgan asked as Hotch nodded. “She is a lifesaver.”

     “My words exactly,” he said and walked away as the team went to grab the drinks. 

     You put Jack on your hip and started to walk out of the office. You closed the door and turned around as you were greeted by the warm smile of Derek Morgan.

     “Morning, Hotcakes,” he teased as you smiled widely. You walked down the stairs as he pulled you into a side hug seeing as Jack was clinging to your other side. You both pulled away as he started up again, “thanks for the drinks.”

     “Course, I figured you guys would be as tired as me,” you said nonchalantly as he nodded. You saw the other pairs of eyes on you and quickly introduced yourself, “sorry, i’m Y/N. Aaron’s niece.”

     They nodded at your words as Rossi made his way over to you. “Nice to see you again, Kiddo,” he hugged you the same way Morgan had and you smiled at the older man. 

     “Jennifer Jareau, but I go by JJ,” she stuck out her hand as you smiled at her and shook it. 

     “Emily Prentiss.” The raven haired woman did the same as JJ as she shook you hand and smiled.

     “Uh, Spencer Reid,” the taller brunette man told you as you shot him a small smile seeing as he didn’t offer a handshake. “I wasn’t aware that Hotch had a niece,” he said.

     “Oh, yeah. I moved out here a few months ago for Hotch and Jack,” you told them.

     “Where do you work?” JJ asked.

     “I’m a teacher at Philip Moore High School.”

     “Yeah, Miss. Y/N is the best history teacher,” Derek teased a you rolled your eyes with a small smile on your face. 

     “Alright, I better get out of your guys’ hair and get this little one out of here,” you told them as they nodded. “Good luck with the case.” You smiled at them and gave Morgan on last side hug before you were walking through the bullpen and towards the elevator. 

     Spencer watched as you went and felt a clap on his back from Derek. He whipped around and saw the older man smiling. “Somebody got a crush on the teacher?” he singsonged as Spencer’s cheeks flamed pink. 

     “From the minute I pointed her out to him,” Emily recalled as she chuckled a it, “the chatty doctor turns into a gaping teenage boy.” Spencer heard JJ snicker as he felt his cheeks heat up even further. 

     The door of the BAU opened as they all whipped around and saw Hotch standing with his go bag and some files, “lets go.”

***

     It was a few weeks later and the case had gone great from what your uncle told you. They had found the kid and caught the creep who took him within the 24 hour rule they set up. 

     You stood by a yellow school bus and held a roster of names in your hand. “Alright!” you yelled out as mostly all the kids quieted down. “I’m gonna let everyone sit where they want as long as the volume doesn’t get too loud, yeah?”

     There was a mix of yes’ and okay’s in the crowd of 25 or so sophomores. Today you were taking a trip to the nations capital, a tradition for this school. The kids would go see a historical museum and take a tour of the White House, then you all would eat lunch downtown and then the kids go to vote on whether they wanted to go to another museum or go see a historical show. 

     “Lets get going then.” The kids filed onto the bus as you marked the names to the faces. Your co-worker was standing next to you and handing kids their badges and name tags. 

     Once everyone was on the bus, you turned to the slightly older man. “Ready to go?” he asked you as you nodded. Both of you climbed on the bus and the kids quieted down as Mr. Greene opened his mouth, “Alright you all know the drill, no wondering off, no yelling or running, and stick with your partners!” 

     They all nodded and said a variation of yes.

     “I can take the middle if you want the front,” you told him as he nodded and you headed towards one of the benches you had put your bag on. A mix of girls and boys were around it and you were glad that you were on the younger side so that you could somewhat understand what they were talking about. 

     “Miss. Hotchner!” a boy called as you turned to face him. “Do you have any games for the ride?” This got the attention of the kids around you. 

     “Sure,” you started, trying to think of something to keep the teen engaged and interested. “Whoever can spot a red car with the letter q in the licences plate will get ice cream for them and their seat partner. Same thing goes for blue cars with a y.” The kids nodded and started conversing strategies on how they would do this. 

     You knew it was silly, but you would’ve loved if a teacher did this during your school trips. The bus started moving and you were soon pulling away from the school. 

***

     JJ walked into Hotch’s office, “We’ve got a case and need to go now.” He put down his pen and and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. 

     “Fill me in,” he said to JJ as he motioned for the rest of the team to get up. 

     “A bus full of high schoolers on their way to a field trip in DC. They never checked in to their morning tour or any other events. Parents can’t get a hold of kids and faculty can’t get in touch with the teachers on the trip.”

     “So it’s local. How long ago did the high school contact us?” he asked.

     “Not even 15 minutes ago,” JJ told him as he nodded. 

     “Let’s take the SUVs and set up at the high school,” he told the team as the nodded and grabbed their things and headed for the doors. They sped to the cars and split up; Hotch, Reid, JJ, and Morgan in one while Rossi, Emily, and Penelope were in the other. 

     “Alright,” JJ set up her phone so it was on speaker and connected to the other car. “26 kids and 2 teachers along with a bus driver were heading out for an annual field trip the school does for sophomores. No one on the bus has been able to be contacted and were supposed to be back at the school 45 minutes ago.”

     “What time did they take off?” Morgan asked.

     “7:15 am and their first activity was at 9:50 am which they never checked in for according to the museum,” JJ explained. 

     “Garcia,” Hotch started, “can you pull up the bus GPS?” 

     “On it, Sir!” she replied. They kept driving to the school and were within 7 minutes of the destination seeing as they had sped all the way there. The team talked more as Garcia was pulling stuff up. Hotch pulled into the school and payed no attention to the sign as they did so. 

     They hopped out of the car and were met with the principal who had a grief stricken face. “Thank you so much for coming,” he spoke, “James Randalf, I’ll take you guys to the room we’re set up in.”

     “SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he said as he stuck out his hand. The man shook it but held a weird look on his face. “What is it?” Hotch asked.

     “You said Hotchner?” he asked as Aaron nodded, “Any relation to Y/N Hotchner?”

     “Yes, she’s my niece. This is Philip Moore High School?” The principal nodded as they walked through the hallway. He opened to door for the team swiftly as he stepped in. 

     “She’s one of the teacher’s that was on the bus.” Hotch paled at the man’s words as the rest of the team did a double take. Spencer had been to immersed in the case file and hadn’t seen the name of the high school as they pulled up or he would’ve at least connected the dots a bit faster. 

     “Get started,” Hotch said as he pulled out his phone rung your number up. The phone stayed ringing and no one picked up as Aaron cursed under his breath. “Garcia I need you to get the GPS of this number,” Hotch read your number and thought to himself that you always kept your GPS on and he urged you to do it one day as you took Jack.

     “Just in case anything happens, alright?”

     “Nothing will happen to us, but okay,” you said with as smile as Jack giggled in your arms.

     “Got the location, Sir,” Garcia said as Hotch snapped out of the trance he was in. 

     “Call for a SWAT car. Morgan, Emily, Reid, Rossi lets go,” Hotch ordered as they all nodded and followed the man out of the building, all hoping to find you and the kids.

***

     “Everyone just stay calm!” the man yelled as he entered the bus with another man behind him. The bus driver reached for his walkie-talkie and the second man shot him right in his forehead. The kids around you were whimpering and crying as you tried to be discreet about your movements.

     You grabbed the pepper spray from you bag and put it down your bra as well as taking your small pocket knife and putting it in your shoe. Students looked to you as you held up a finger to your mouth and nodded at them, gesturing for them to listen and stay quiet.

     “We don’t want to hurt anyone else,” the first man started, “we just want everyone to stay calm and stay quiet. We won’t kill you.”

     “Phones now,” the second said as he came around with a sack as kids put their phones in. You kept your head down and did the same, he didn’t seem to realize you were a teacher. He walked back up the aisle and pointed his gun at Mr. Greene. “Red, up,” he said referring to the color of the man’s shirt. He instructed Greene to move the bus driver out of his seat and onto the side of the road. Once he was finished he stood back up and both men stepped outside and shot him as well as dumping the phones.

     You took this opportunity to turn to the kids next to you. “Only call me by my first name, Y/N,” you told them as they nodded, “pass it on.” They whispered to each other and you were pretty sure that all the students knew what to do now.

     They stepped back on the bus and one of the men got into the driver’s seat while the other stepped to the aisle at the front of the bus. “Everyone is gonna quiet up. You all are a special bunch, parents in high position, rich, and willing to do whatever they can to get back their precious children.” The other man laughed as he started up the bus. “If I see anyone trying to communicate with the outside I will not hesitate to blow your head off. No talking and we wont have a problem.”

     He sat where Mr.Greene did as the other man started to drive off. Some kids kept their heads down and others near you looked to you. You signaled that everything was going to be okay and that you would kept them safe. 

     There had to be a way to warn you uncle where you were going. 

***

     At the sight, the team found two bodies and all of the cellphones. Hotch cursed silently as did the rest of the team. Spencer walked up and down the road as something had caught his eye. He picked up a folded piece of paper and opened it carefully. 

     “Do you have something, Kid?” Morgan asked as he nodded and walked over to the agents. 

     He unfolded the note and showed them as Hotch spoke up, “that’s Y/N’s handwriting.”

     2 men, White. 5′11 & 5′9. 190 and 170 lb. Aggressive and passive. Friends.

     The note had the team smiling as you had been able to give a clue of what they had to look for. “Definitely a Hotchner,” Rossi joked as Aaron smiled lightly at the man’s words. 

     “Lets get this back to Garcia, see if she can get a match.” The team nodded at their section leader’s words. 

     Spencer held the note in his hand and smiled to himself, he had only met you once, but you were proving to be very resourceful as well smart. This made his small crush grow into a full blown one and now he just had to get you back.

***

     They had taken you all to an abandoned barn about 3 hour drive at top speed. They tied you all up and made you all sit as they quickly made their way to a van that was parked in the barn. They had taken the boys to another location and left the the girls in the barn.

     As soon as you heard the car pull away you looked around for any cameras and saw that their were none. Girls whispered to each other as you soon gained their attention, “everyone listen up,” their eyes where on you. “We are going to get out of here alright?” They nodded as you quickly assessed the situation. 

     “What are you going to do, Miss. Hotchner?” one of the girls asked.

     “Get out of these.” You took the pocket knife from your shoe and switched it open. “Here,” you said handing it to one of the girls, “cut these open.” She nodded and did as you told her. Soon the zip ties where off your hands and you took the knife back from her and cut the zip ties around your feet. 

     You quickly did the same to the rest of the girl as you were all free now. “We move together. If they come back I’ll hold them off and the rest of you run and get help. Get my uncle, his name is Aaron Hotchner and he works for the FBI. Take this,” you grabbed the pepper spray and handed it to one of the girls, “use it if you have a good shot and pick up anything you can defend yourself with.”

     They nodded and you lead the way out of the barn. The van was no where in sight and you were good to go. You started going a different path than the main road in as to avoid the men. 

     You were able to walk with the girls for a good couple hours as you soon saw a gas station. You walked in with the girls and told the man behind the counter your predicament, he was about to dial the police as the door opened and a man walked in. One of the men who kidnapped you all. 

     He shot the man behind the counter and the girls froze. “Thought you could get away that easy?” he said as you gripped the knife in you hand behind your back. He came closer and pointed the gun at you all. “Lets go!” he yelled as some of the girls flinched. He got closer as you were able to tackle him the the ground. 

     His gun went off and slid to the side as the girl watched you and him fight.  You were able to flip him on his stomach and grab the keys out of his pocket. You threw them at the girls direction and yelled, “go! Like we talked about! Get to a big city and don’t stop!” He manged to flip you over and push you to the ground as you gritted you teeth and saw the girls run out of the shop and to the van. 

     You kneed him in the sweet spot as he crumbled above you and you got up on your feet and went to the gun but were tackled to the ground as your face slammed down. He turned you over and held down your hands as he delivered a punch to your face.

     This went on for a while; you and him struggling and giving each other bruises that would hurt for days. You were finally able to knock him out, by slamming his head against the hard floor. 

     You stood up and took the gun and knife as you were able to make your way out of the store and to the little car sitting outside. You broke the passengers side window and unlocked the car and made your way over to the drivers side to hot wire the car. You fumbled with wires and finally got the car to start as you heard a chime from the store entrance. The man was coming out as you pulled out as he tried to chase you as you stuck the gun out your window and were able to hit him in the leg as he fell to the ground. All those times training with your uncle had finally paid off. 

     You knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t help but go back to the direction of the barn. You hadn’t seen any structures where they could’ve keep the boys and you had to get them to safety. You had promised them. 

***

     A white van pulled up to the front of the school about 2 hours after the BAU had gotten there. The girls filed out and made their way inside the building as they saw the cars parked out in front and figured their would be someone there. The doors were open and they walked in and were met with shocked faces of the staff. 

     The staff got the agents as they made their way to the front of the school. Aaron watched as the girls look around clearly nervous and distraught. “We need to conduct interviews now.” The team nodded as they each took one of the girls into a classroom. JJ gathered all the parents with daughters and told them the good news. 

     Spencer and Aaron sat with one of the girls. “Start at the beginning.”

     The girl told them about the barn and how you had gotten them out and then the walk to the gas station and how you had fought with the man as you told them to go and get help. “Do any of you know Aaron Hotchner? Miss. Hotchner told us to get him and he would know what to do.”

     “That would be me,” Aaron spoke as she nodded. 

     “She saved us and I feel so bad for just leaving her there, with that man,” she shuddered at the thought. “Do you think he killed her?” she whispered to them as both Spencer and Hotch paled at the thought.

     “I don’t think so,” Spencer spoke honestly, “Miss. Hotchner is very resourceful and you said she had the upper hand, right?” The girl nodded as Spencer smiled. “I’m sure she’s fine and you did just what she told you. You don’t have to feel guilty.” 

     She left the room and was soon reunited with her parents. 

     “We need to get to the gas station,” Hotch said as Spencer nodded. “Half of us will go there and the other half to the barn. We can have Garcia see if the car had GPS and if she can retrace where it’s been.”

     The team regrouped and Garcia was able to get 3 locations in the vicinity. They split up accordingly and headed out to the locations.

***

     You had scoped out a small building. It had no cars in front of it and was the the closest building to the barn you had been in earlier. You knew you could either go in guns a-blazing, but the man inside would have the kids as leverage and you knew you had to take him out as soon as possible or at least injure him. 

     You held the gun in your hand and quickly made your way to the building as you looked into one of the windows and saw the boys all tied up and the man sitting with as concerned look on his face. You devised your plan and figured it would be easier to lure him out. You walked back to the car and put pressure on the horn as it continued to make noise as the heavy stick pressing against it held.

     The man came out as you hid behind a tree and waited for him to have his back to you. Once this happened you fired your gun and hit him in the back of his leg. He dropped to the ground and his gun went forward. You ran over and picked it up as he cried out and started cussing at you. 

     “You stupid bitch! You’re gonna pay for this!” he screamed.

     “Sure, buddy,” you said in an amused voice. You put the guns down as you turned him on his back and took the branch for the car and hit his jaw with it as he passed out. You put it down and checked his pulse, still alive. You opened up the trunk of the car and held him in an army carry as you put him in the small space as you closed and locked the trunk. You jogged over to the building and opened the door to see around 17 teenage boys looking at you with more fear than you had ever seen. 

     “Miss. Hotchner!” one said as you smiled and got out your knife and began getting the zip-ties off of them. 

     “Is everyone okay? Anyone hurt?” They all said no to your question as nodded and finished getting everyone free.

     “What happened to the girls?” one boy asked. 

     “They are hopefully with my uncle and making sure someone comes for us soon,” you told them as they nodded. “You’ll all get the full story when we get out of here, okay?” 

     You lead them out of the small building and told them to stay there. They did as told as you brought the car over and made sure to keep an eye on the man inside if he did manage to escape. 

     After waiting for a hour or so in the dark, a black SUV pulled up along with a swat car. 

     “Everyone put you hands up, it’s alright,” you told them as you placed down the gun and knife and put you hands above your head. The boys followed in suit and you soon saw your uncle get out of the car.

     “Guns down! It’s just the kids!” he made his way over to you as you hugged him tightly. You groaned lightly as he pulled away. “Are you alright?” You nodded and gestured towards the kids as your uncle understood. 

     Spencer came over to you as smiled lightly at him. Your face was littered with cuts and bruises and even a bit of blood that was dried on your face. “Hey, Spencer,” you said as he smiled lightly. “There’s one of the douche bags in the trunk.” You pointed as he nodded at you words.

     “Can I get some cuffs and a guy over here!” he yelled out as he made his way over to the trunk. A SWAT guy had his gun up as you unlocked the trunk and the man tumbled out. 

     He immediately started yelling, “where is that bitch!” he lunged at you from the ground as the SWAT cuffed him and brought him into custody. You closed the trunk and swiftly sat atop it. You winced slightly as Spencer was quick to come by your side. 

     “You’re hurt,” he said frowning as you nodded at his word. 

     “Got thrown around a bit,” you joked. He quickly went over to the SUV and got back to you as he was now holding a first-aid kit. He set it down on the trunk and quickly got to work on your face. 

     You cuts had stopped bleeding by now, but they were still open and Spencer delicately wiped them down and placed a few bandages on your face. You swore he was blushing, but it was too hard to tell in the dark. 

     He finished cleaning up your face and Hotch quickly thanked him. You got into the stolen car as 3 of the boys got in with you as well as Spencer and he started to drive off to the school.

***

     Spencer pulled up to the school as you all got out of the car. Parents were waiting outside the car and the boys rushed to them as they all let out cries. You smiled at the sight and had also asked Spencer about the fate of the girls earlier and were grateful for that as well. You made your way over to a paramedic and she checked you out and quickly realized that you had in fact a minor dislocated your shoulder. 

     “Seriously?” you asked as she nodded.

     “It was probably the adrenaline that allowed you body to over look it. That with the other bruises all over your body, your mind probably thought it was just one of those,” she explained. “I’ll have to pop it back in place.” You grimaced and nodded as she made her way over to your side. 

     Hotch was by your side as you stuck out your hand and he took it. Some of the students were watching, worried for you. 

     “Big breath in,” she told you as you followed her instructions and she quickly popped it back into place. You shoulder cracked loudly and you yelped a bit and turned some heads. “Alright, you’ll have to treat it with care and it might swell, but you are good to go Miss. Hotchner.”

     “Thank you,” you told her with a light smile and you hopped of the back of the ambulance. Your uncle rubbed you back as you looked to him. “How’s Jack?” you asked as he smiled at your question. 

     “He’s fine. Will, JJ’s husband, is watching him.” You nodded at his response and made your way to the school as he still had to pack up some stuff. “I’m driving you home and don’t even think about coming into work tomorrow.” You laughed as he smiled at you. 

     “Miss. Hotchner!” Your name was called you looked to your uncle and quickly departed to got talk to the families. 

     “Is everything alright?” you asked the father as he nodded. 

     “We,” he gestured towards all the parents, “wanted to thank you for saving our kids and keeping them safe.” A few mothers and fathers were crying and kids were smiling at you lightly.

     “Of course, i’m just glad that everyone is okay,” you told them truthfully. A girl came up to you and hugged you tightly as more kids came up and eventually the whole class was in a big group hug as some of them cried a bit, you surely teared up. They pulled away when your uncle came out and you bid the adieu and goodnight as you made your way over to Hotch. 

     “Ready?” he asked as you walked to your car. 

     You bit your lip. “One moment.” You made your way over to the young doctor and tapped him on the shoulder as he whipped around.  “Spencer,” you spoke softly as he looked at you and paused on working on your face. “Would you want to get dinner on Friday?”

     Spencer looked at you with wide eyes and couldn’t help but smile widely at your question.         

     “It’s just, I almost died a few time today and I don’t want to do anything that  would regret, which would include not asking you out. I know it’s bad timing and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to and-”

     You would’ve kept rambling, but Spencer cut you off, “I would love to have dinner on Friday with you.” You smiled at the man as he smiled back and now you were sure of the blush on his cheeks. 

     “Cool, um, do you have a pen?” you asked as he nodded and fumbled to get a pen from his bag. You smiled at him and took his palm as you wrote out your phone number and handed it back to him. “See you on Friday.” You smiled brightly as he nodded. You pecked his cheek and turned around quickly and was met with a surprised look on your uncles’ face.

     Spencer blushed brightly and brought a hand up to his face to check if that had actually happened. Derek came up behind him and smiled widely as he clapped him on the back. 

     “Finally got the girl! Good job man!” Derek told him as he smiled widely and was met with happy smiles from the rest of the team.

     “Dinner on Friday!” he gushed as they cheered and clapped a bit. All happy that the man had gotten some good new for once. 

      Dinner on Friday.

[unrequitedloveletter]

Angelic- Kaz Brekker

OKAY, SO, I know that a lot of you have, in fact, sent requests, and I promise, I’ve got more than one in the works, but here’s a little filler while you wait for your request to be responded to!

It’s a bit ooc for Kaz, but that’s just cause he’s gone a little soft, in a way? 

ALSO: The crows and the reader are around 24 for this, you’ll understand why when you read it, and Jesper and the reader are adoptive siblings, sort of!

Fic type-

Warnings- none

Kaz Brekker had spent every waking moment of his life loving you.

You spent every waking moment of your life loving him, and even if touching wasn’t really apart of how Kaz showed his love, he showed it in other ways.

Giving you a sweater to sleep in, a shirt that’d always been too big or even a pair of trousers that’d he’d just not worn in a while, figuring that you’d find some way to make them look better than he ever could.

You had your ways, as well. 

Making sure to get him breakfast every morning, dinner every evening, and lunch in between. Cracking a joke when the time arose, knowing where he’d set his boundaries and not pushing them. Offering smiles, warm glances, making sure he’d get to bed at the appropriate times. 

Sitting, perched on a windowsill, knees near your chest, book clutched in your hands as you read, or no book at all. Maybe your eyes would be on the view from Kaz’s office as you quietly hummed a lullaby or a drinking tune, a sea shanty you’d probably have shouted alongside Sturmhond and the rest of his crew, forcing Kaz to bite back a smile as you’d let your guard down in those moments, eyes focused on the view and not at all paying attention to your surroundings. Kaz got to admire you in those moments, and he loved every second of it.

But, Kaz’s favorite time of the year was when business died down enough for him to be comfortable enough to leave Nina or Inej in charge of The Barrel for three days, when he’d get to usher you away from everything and out to the farmlands in Novyi Zem, where light pollution wasn’t nearly so common as it was in Ketterdam.

Colm Fahey, bless his heart, had agreed to let yourself and Kaz spend a couple of nights in his place while he visited Jesper and Wylan in the city to talk about their wedding plans. 

As you set yourself and Kaz up in the room Colm had given the two of you, Colm took Kaz aside. Made him tea, sat him down and let their silence stir. 

“You’re a lucky one, you oughtta know,” Colm murmured after a few moments. “Y/N doesn’t got much in the way of parents.”

“Are you insinuating to me that you think I’m going to propose?” Kaz asked, hand moving to the ring box tucked away in his pocket. 

“Yes,” Colms whispers were firm. “Jes let it slip, actually. All I’m saying is that--”

“If they say yes, your place in the wedding is up to them,” Kaz turns his head, glances up the stairs as his grip tightens on the ring box. “However, an invitation, at the least, is something that I can guarantee.” Colm smiled as he picked up his cup, finishing off the last of his tea and gripping his back with one of his pale hands. 

“I plan to do nothing but,” Kaz assured. “Tell Jesper I said yes to being his best man, and that he’s missed in the Barrel.” Colm just nodded, walking out the door thereafter.

“You treat them right,” Colm warns. For a moment, Kaz feels a shiver of fear go up his spine, but catches himself with a slight laugh. Torn down by my lovers surrogate father, he thought, shaking his head. I can’t believe it!

You two had agreed to meet in the farm, and as Kaz walked out, he spotted you, back pressed against a tree trunk, eyes on the vast sky. 

It was a bit of a distance, but Kaz walked it just fine, slumping down next to you and leaning his cane against the tree as the sunset slowly burned out, and the pinks, oranges, yellows, reds and purple hues were replaced by a murky, black sky.

“I love you, Kaz Brekker,” you murmured as he plopped onto the ground. “I love you so much it makes my heart ache.”

“You’ve always been my favorite investment,” Kaz joked, laughing as he felt your fist lightly hit his arm a moment later.

“Mr. Brekker!” 

“Mx. Brekker!” You froze at that, eyes wide, mouth agape, and Kaz, figuring that it was as good a time as any, pulled the ring box from his pocket.

“Y/N L/N, we’ve been together for eight years now. I’ve known you for over ten of those years, though, and each year with you has gotten better. Please marry me?” He held the ring out to you, and when you nodded, slid it onto your ring finger.

“This was my fathers,” you whispered. “Where’d you get it? I haven’t seen it since I was thirteen!” 

“Had Inej do some snooping,” he admitted. “Found it in a Fabrikators store in West Ravka. I’ve got your mothers wedding ring, too.”

“Give that one to Inej,” you quipped. “She’s my work wife!”

“Even while she’s killing slavers?”

“Hells yeah!” You shouted, arms going into the air as Kaz tucked the ring box back into his pocket. “Do you think she’ll ever come back? To Ketterdam?”

“Last Nina heard of her, she plans to return around Christmas,” Kaz took your hand, waiting for the rise of his past. When it came, he waited for the wave to fall. 

“I can’t wait!” You’d missed her like hell, which Kaz knew. “Goodness, I’ve missed her.”

“She’ll squeal with you about the engagement,” Kaz murmured. “Especially with Nina around. That’s a goddamn guarantee. You can never keep a room too quiet when you three are in one of your excited tizzies,” Kaz interlaced your fingers, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek without a second thought.

“You love me and my excited tizzies, Mr. Brekker,” you teased. Kaz almost touched his cheek as you moved away, resting your head on the tree as your eyes moved back up to the sky again.

“That I do, Mx. Brekker.” He loved every part of you, in every waking moment of every waking day. You were like a storm to him; a tsunami. You were chaotic and scary and delightful and terrifying all at once; a landslide of feelings throughout ten years and more landslides to come, he was sure. 

“The stars are always so much brighter here,” you whispered after a few hours of small talk and hand holding, with, of course, a few comfortably quiet periods in between when Kaz got distracted and his past rose up, when he ran his fingers through the grass to distract himself for as long as he’d needed. “Not all of Novyi Zem, of course, cause of the factories and apartment complexes in the city, but the farms!” 

“It’s quite wonderful, isn’t it?” Kaz pointed to a constellation when he’d noticed it, hung high in the air. “Look at that, it’s the bloody Sankta Alina constellation!” Kaz wasn’t one for saints, you knew he never would be, but he could name at least three constellations off the top of his head, thanks to Ninas astrology based ramblings.

“Woah!” You jumped, not understanding how you’d not realized it before. “It’s so big, too! What’s it, thirty stars up there?” 

“Sixty seven,” Kaz corrected. “Nina told me that before Inej came in and dropped your ring off.” 

“Saints,” you cursed. “Rather fucking angelic, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Kaz murmured, but his gaze had long since moved off the constellation and back onto you. He pressed a quick, gentle kiss to your cheek and gave your hand a squeeze. “It really is.” 

[impulsive-astrophile]

Heaven and Hell Were Words to Me

MSR | Gen | ~1.8k words

Post-“Monday”, Mulder and Scully try to heal from trauma they can’t really remember.

Tagging @today-in-fic.

Read it on ao3, or below the cut!

It starts on Tuesday.

Scully comes into the office to find Mulder already there - as had been usual until after Dreamland - looking as tired as she feels.

Despite having gotten 8 hours of sleep, Scully had woken that morning feeling exhausted. Fragments of nightmares she can’t quite remember left her stomach churning enough that she didn’t even have breakfast.

Seeing Mulder instantly calms her a little. Touching him is even better. Her hands stop shaking for the first time in hours when she finds a reason to cross the room and touch his shoulder to ask where a file is. But whenever he’s out of sight, a pit drops back into her stomach like a stone, her limbs becoming heavy with dread.

He’s gone for 5 minutes that afternoon to use that bathroom, and her hands start to shake again.

He’s gone for 30 minutes the next day to pick up lunch, and she can barely type, noting reluctantly that her resting heart rate climbs to almost double her regular resting rate and into tachycardia - hovering around 130.

It’s ridiculous, she tells herself. They’re both fully functional, independent adults who can operate without the other.

But Mulder seems reluctant to be away from her, as well; on Thursday, he proposes she go with him to get lunch (which he never does because she hates it - she gets line-rage, and he doesn’t mind picking it up for them), and she jumps at the opportunity. His hand is rooted to the small of her back the entire way there, and hers to his arm the whole way back.

When they get back, they definitely don’t clear off half of his desk and bring her chair over so they can eat right next to each other; no, they sit on opposite sides of the room at their respective desks like normal people.

But if, say, they both just so happen to regularly need to use the bathroom at the same time, coincidentally meaning they end up spending less time apart, then that’s definitely just a coincidence.

‘Intimacy through codependency’, Dana Scully’s ass.

So, when Scully asks Mulder to come with her after work on Friday, it’s for completely practical reasons.

“Mulder? Are you okay? Your neck is red because you’ve been rubbing it so much.” Scully’s voice startles Mulder out of continuing that same motion.

“What? Yeah.” He smiles sheepishly, resting the offending hand on the desk. “I guess I’m just getting old, Scully. Sleeping on the couch this week has really done a number on my neck.”

Scully nods sympathetically. “Why haven’t you bought a new mattress yet?”

“They’re still redoing some of the floor in my room,” Mulder says.

Scully frowns. “You told me they finished that on Wednesday.”

“...I just haven’t had the time?” He tries, caught. Doesn’t say, it’s not worth buying one if you’re not in it.

She lets him off the hook. “Okay. We’ll go shopping after work today.” You deserve comfort, and I’m going to see that you have it. Then, with a gleam in her eye, “after all, an old man should take better care of his body.”

Mulder shakes his head, solemn. “You’ll know how it feels when you’re my age, Scully.”

Scully scoffs, Mulder smirking to himself before feigning a return to his paperwork. She waits until it seems that he’s actually focused on it, then pulls a paper clip out of a container in front of her and takes aim.

When it hits him square in the forehead, the look on his face is worth the war it starts.

--

“24/7 MATTRESSES!” offered the kind of vibe you’d expect from stopping at a non-descript fast food joint in the middle of nowhere at 3 AM; lighting just a little too bright, music that seemed familiar yet was impossible to place, and a single employee who seemed to appear out of nowhere from otherwise deserted floorspace.

Still, they offered incredible deals on queen-size mattresses, even offering complimentary pillows and same-day delivery and installation within a mile. And, luckily, Mulder’s apartment was only a few blocks away. So, hairs on the backs of both their necks up the whole time, Scully helped Mulder choose a nice memory foam mattress, then watched his back as he paid, and was at his side as they fast-walked to the exit.

If they’d turned back, they would’ve seen that the employee vanished as soon as the door shut behind them.

--

By the time they get to Mulder’s apartment just 10 minutes later, they find the mattress neatly set in his bedframe, pillows on top, even though his front door had been locked.

“...remind me to file that place under ‘liminal spaces’, Scully,” Mulder says with an uneasy laugh.

Scully nods absently. Mulder can see the gears working in her head. Eventually, she settles on, “sheets?”

Mulder fetches them from the linen cupboard, and they get to work. Together, they wrestle the fitted sheet onto the bed. Mulder tries to help with tucking the flat sheet, but Scully gets frustrated with his sloppy corners and shoos him away to find pillowcases.

He chuckles when he returns to find the sheet tucked with military corners - he loves how much of a perfectionist she is - but shuts up when he gets a pillow to the face. Tossing Scully the other pillowcase, he makes quick work of his own, then places it on the bed and collapses.

He buries his face into the mattress with an exaggerated moan. “Oh, Scully, this thing is amazing,” he says, muffled by the foam.

Scully drops her pillow next to him with a chuckle, resting a hand on his back lightly. “Should I leave you two alone?”

Mulder heaves a deep sigh, rolling over onto his back and resting his head on a pillow. “She could never feel the same way about me,” he says, tone wistful. “No,” he puts a hand over his heart, looking downtrodden, “I’m afraid it could never be requited.”

“A shame,” Scully agrees, stifling a smile.

Mulder cranes his head up, mouth open to make a joke, but all that comes out is a pained groan. He grabs his neck as his head falls back against the pillow.

“Oh, I forgot about your neck.” Scully’s brow creases as she leans down a bit. “You okay, Mulder?”

Mulder nods, eyes shut tight.

“Well, that’s convincing.”

A few seconds later Mulder peers up at her, smiling but obviously not feeling as good as he wants her to think. Scully makes a decision.

“Mulder, let me give you a massage,” she says. When he opens his mouth to object, she continues, “my mom always used to get terrible pains in her neck from sleeping on the couch on nights where we waited for Dad to come home. I was the only one in the house she trusted to get the knots out.”

Mulder rubs his neck, considering, then nods gingerly. “Thank you,” he says gratefully.

“Any time,” Scully responds, slipping off her shoes. “If you were feeling better, I’d ask you to move. But since you’re not, I’ll come to you.”

She climbs onto the bed, kneeling behind his head.

“I’m going to support your neck with one hand, slip the pillow out from under you with the other, then rest your head flat on the mattress, okay?” She explains.

Mulder hums in agreement, wincing only minimally as she moves him around. Then, she rests her hands on either side of his neck, fingertips touching his clavicles, and begins gently applying sweeping pressure from his neck down to his shoulders.

“I’d normally use massage lotion,” Scully says, teasing, “but I doubt you keep any around the house.”

“Mm-mm,” comes Mulder’s quiet confirmation, mouth quirking with half a smile.

When she’s finished, she notices that Mulder is completely limp in her hands, apparently asleep. She smiles softly, reaching to comb the hair away from his forehead. Letting her fingers brush through his hair, she takes stock of herself.

For the first time this week, she feels steady. And it doesn’t escape her notice that it’s while she’s holding Mulder, either.

She knows she should go now that he’s asleep. But those nightmares... even just the flashes she does remember after a week of having them - cradling him in her arms, desperately trying to keep his life from leaking out from between her fingers, pleading for him - have her reluctant to leave him. To sleep, even for just one night, with him in her arms, where she could know he was safe--

Mulder fidgets in her hands, and she looks down to find him blinking up at her. “Whatever it is, you’re thinking too hard,” he teases sleepily.

“Sorry,” she says, “I was trying not to wake you.”

Scully extricates her hand from his hair delicately, moving to get up, but he grasps her wrist. “Wait. Please stay.” His voice is soft. “That was the first time all week I haven’t had any nightmares.”

Scully frowns. “Nightmares, Mulder? I’m sorry. Old ones or new ones?”

They’re both intimately familiar with each other’s nightmares, and with how to soothe one another after them. Sometimes, part of the soothing process was to talk about them - especially if they were new.

“New, I think. I remember being in pain and hearing you sound worried and scared, but being unable to help when I tried... and then nothing.”

Scully frowns once more, starting to stroke his hair again. “How can I help?”

“Stay?” He requests softly.

“Of course,” Scully says. They’d both held each other after nightmares before.

Scully scoots down the bed, settling herself on a pillow and pulling Mulder to her. Absently, she thinks that she’s glad that they’d stopped by her place before the mattress store so she could change into casual clothes.

Mulder wraps his arms around her back, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck.

They breathe each other in for a while before he speaks again. “You’ve been having nightmares too,” he deduces, sounding like he’s come to a realization, “and that’s why you’ve been tired and just as clingy as me this week.”

Scully sucks in a breath, nodding.

“Old ones or new ones?”

“New,” she confesses. “But this is supposed to be me comforting you, not the other way around.”

“We can do mutual comforting,” Mulder assures her. “How can I help?”

She holds him tighter, feeling the rise and fall of his torso between her arms and the soft huff of his breath across her neck. It’s enough to know he’s safe, alive, and well. She squeezes him briefly. “This is enough.”

[kyberconfessions]

No Matter Where You Go, I Will Find You. Part 2

Here it is everyone! Part 2! You all make me so happy, it’s been so long since I wrote something and so much longer since I shared it. All your reblogs and likes have made me so happy.

As always:

This will eventually be a 18+ older fic and will deal with anxiety, death, sex,  PTSD, murder, loss, found family, Order 66, and coming to terms. This is not just a fluff fic. It will very much be dealing with very dark and hard themes, so please, if that is something that can be too hard for you, don’t read.

Pairings: Rex x Reader x Cody (polyamory)

Rating: 18+

TW: Death, Murder, infanticide, death of the Jedi, PTSD, Loss, Anxiety, eating disorders, sleep disorders, Order 66. I will add other things as I think about them

Part 2: Utterly Alone

     You couldn't believe Hondo. Making you come to him for that information. It was just like him to hold out on you right when he was getting to the good stuff. Of course he wanted you to meet these ‘clients’ of his before he would offer up whatever he had. Honestly, if he weren’t Hondo Ohnaka, you probably would have killed him long ago, which is why he knew he could pull these stunts.  You shook your head and finished putting on your gear: black pants with pockets and clips, a black shirt covered in darkly painted duriplast armor, twin blasters on your hip and thighs, a large vibroblade on your belt, a few droid poppers in a pouch, thermal detonators in another, and various other tools of your trade. 

A far cry from your sand colored robes and saber hilt on your hip. What would your Master say if he saw you now? He would probably be ashamed. No, that's not true. Obi-Wan Kenobi would never have felt shame when it came to you, he would have been so proud of you for surviving. 

You shook your head free of those thoughts and went to stand in front of the closet next to your bunk. Your hand slowly grazed the lockpad, letting the door whoosh open. 

Your life's work was in that closet.

Half of everything that was ever important to you was in there. You looked up, gazing at the old and scratched armor, the golden paint fading from it. It had taken you nearly 16 years, but you had almost every piece of Cody's armor. You had killed for some pieces, you had purchased others, and the rest you had found scattered across the stars. It was the only thing you had left of him. The only thing you had left of your home. All you were missing was his helmet. 

One day you hoped to find that as well. If you couldn't hold him in your arms again, you would honor his memory this way.

The closet across from Cody's hurt more, though. That closet you had set aside for Rex. But search high and low, you never found anything of his. Not a whisper, not a glove, not even a mention of his name. It was like he was wiped off the galaxy after Mandalore. 

You had gone back there, scoured the planet for any sign. All you had found was ash and bone. A dead, rotting planet, filled to the brim with ghosts and monsters. You heaved a sigh and touched Cody's glove, holding it up to your cheek.

"I wish you were both with me right now. You'd know what to do. You always did."

You sighed and closed your eyes, thinking of their faces.

"I miss you both so much. I'm not sleeping well anymore. But, I always did sleep better sandwiched between you two. Kriff. I know Hondo is going to worry, he always does. Nosey nerf herder. I just....I keep seeing your faces. And I keep hearing your voices and I just can't... I can't do this anymore without you. If you're out there, if you're watching over me, please know I am so sorry. I'm just so sorry."

Your tears cut you off while you choked on a breath.

You looked up to the headless suit, touching his cuirass and gently letting go of the glove. Your hands left the armor and rubbed your eyes free of tears. You had to steel yourself, who knows what kind of people Hondo would want you to meet with. 

You stepped back and closed the door, hiding away your most prized possession. Only Hondo knew about what you had. He had helped you find every piece of your prized armor. He tracked every lead, every serial number, every black market arms dealer selling Clone Era tech. As cunning and double crossing as he was, he cared for you. He cared for Kenobi more, but your connection to the Jedi Master was what compelled him to watch over you. He's who saved you and gave you shelter in the beginning, anyways.

You were curled up in a ball on the bench across from him, head resting on the transparisteel, watching as hyperspace went by. Your face was colorless, your eyes were red, and your lower lip was swollen from where you kept chewing on it. You hadn't spoken a word since Padmé died. It seemed the last 24 hours had taken its toll on you and he knew it.

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

Obi-Wan Kenobi looked at you as Luke whimpered in his arms. 

Gently he reached out to you through the Force, caressing your signature with his. You turned to him, fresh tears falling from your eyes.

"My sweet Padawan, please, talk to me. I can feel your emotions, even without the Force." He shifted the newborn in his arms and stood to sit next to you.

With one free arm, he gently wrapped it around you. It took you less than a second before you felt all your walls crumble and the metaphorical dam break. Obi-Wan would always have that power over you. You covered your mouth with your hand as a sobbed wracked your body, trying to keep quiet for the sleeping baby. He pulled you closer, shifting to hold you against him. You pushed your face into his neck, tears quickly dampening his robes.

"Shhh, little one. It's alright. Let it out. I'm here. You're here. We are alive. I know it seems like nothing will ever be the same, but we must trust in the Force."

He let his Force signature envelop you, warming you. After a few moments, when you felt as if you couldn't cry anymore, you lifted your head from his shoulder.

"Do...do you think they're dead, Master?"

He looked at you with a question on his face, but he waited for you to elaborate.

"Do...do you think they made it? Ahsoka and...and Jesse....and...." You swallowed thickly, trying to force his name from your lips.

"And Rex. Do you think they killed her? Do...do you think she killed him?"

Obi-Wan was no fool. He knew how you, his young Padawan, felt for the Clone Captain of the 501st. He also knew how you felt for the brave Marshall Commander Cody. He knew it because he felt the same about another. He knew what it was like to hold a love so deep in your heart, you felt them in your entire being.

"He shot at us, Master. Cody....shot at us. He tried to kill us. He tried to kill me..." your breath stuttered and you hiccuped a few times.

He placed his hand on your head and stroked your hair lovingly, trying to calm you down.

"I know, little one. I don't know what happened or why they turned."

"What if..this was their plan all along?! What if they never were our men?! What if," you stopped as new tears fell at your revelation, "what if Cody and Rex never...never loved me?", you whimpered out in a soft whisper.

He shushed you, gently pushing his forehead against yours, and whispered your name to get your attention. "No, dear one, no. Cody loved you. Rex as well. I have seen that look in a man's eye before. That utter devotion to someone. Devotion much stronger than that of a commanding officer."

More tears fell from your eyes as you realized your Master knew your deepest kept secret.

"You knew?"

"I knew."

"Then why? Why not say anything? Why not report us? You...you are a sitting member of the High Council? I have shamed you! I broke our code!" You rambled. 

He hesitated for a few moments, looking around at the dim area of Organa's ship. They would be arriving to Tatooine soon. And then after he knew not. He knew he had to make his words comfort his Padawan, because this would be his last lesson.

"Sometimes when you find something so profound in a dark time like this, you have to hold onto it. If there is something worth moving on for, if there is something to keep fighting for, you must let it guide you. The Force has always worked in ways we can not explain. 

"I saw how they looked at you, how they would have done anything for you. How you would have done anything for them. I saw because I know those same feelings. I too know what it was like to love someone so desperately. To want to give them the world. I know what it's like to want to leave the Order if they only asked."

He took a moment for his words to sink in and grabbed a hold of your hand to caress the flesh of your knuckles.

"My dear Padawan, I am so proud of you. I have watched you grow from far off in the temple. I have heard the reports of you from your old Master. And I have seen your strength and kindness with my own eyes. You will be not just a great Jedi, but a great person. I only have one last lesson to teach you."

He let go of your hand and moved to hold your cheek, making you look him in the eye.

"This will be the most important thing I will ever impart on you. Live. Live on. Do not let the events of today control you. Do not let the guilt you have in your heart guide you. Live and be strong. Survive. Find whatever makes you happy and hold onto it with all your strength. Be mindful of the Living Force and what it has to teach you. It will guide you."

You leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, letting your Force signatures mingle. 

You wanted to tell him that you loved him, that he was everything you ever wanted to be. That all you ever wanted was to honor the memory of your former Master and to honor him. You wanted to throw your arms around him and hold tight. You wanted to tell him that when you thought of a father, you saw him.

But, before you could say anything C-3PO walked up.

"Master Kenobi, Commander, we have arrived at Tatooine."

You both bid your farewells to Senator Organa and the two droids and left. You had never been to Tatooine and you hoped you never would have to return again. You hoped that you and Obi-Wan would make your way through the Galaxy, Master and Padawan, father and daughter, saving those left behind.

But, that wasn't to be.

It was a short ride on a speeder bike to the Lars farm. A young man and who you guessed was his wife stood waiting, as if they knew you were coming. 

Obi-Wan motioned for you to stay back, which you did, not having the strength to be around people. 

  Your hood was up, protecting your hair and face from the harsh winds whipping up sand.

  It was strange, almost cathartic, watching your Master hand the small baby to the young man. It was almost as if you knew this wasn't the end. But, at the same time, you knew this chapter of your life had closed.

  The two men you had ever loved were gone, dead probably. Your family was shattered. And you were about to say goodbye to the only other person who ever truly saw you.

Obi-Wan walked back to you, fingers grabbing at his mustache and beard, his old habit for when he was deep in thought.

"Master?"

     You rode for a few hours to a small town, Mos Eisley, the terrain passing you by quickly, but you paid no attention. You just held onto your Master as tightly as you could; the last time you held onto him like this, Cody made the order to shoot you down.

He looked to you, his lips set in a firm line, and nodded away, motioning for you to follow him.

You did, without question. You would always follow Obi-Wan Kenobi.

You shook your head of those thoughts against his back, a move not lost on your Master.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT, MY PADAWAN?"

He yelled to you, trying to be heard over the sound of wind whipping by.

"YES MASTER!"

He nodded and let it go, him just as tired as you.

When you finally arrived at the small Smugglers town, you went to secure the bike while Obi-Wan went into a Cantina to make a call.

You didn't know to whom or what for, but you were too exhausted to care. Everything was crashing down on you and all you wanted was just to sleep. But you knew you had to keep going.

After a while, Obi-Wan stepped back outside and motioned for you to follow him in. The twin suns were beginning to set and you had just started feeling the cool air on your face.

Oh well.

Without a word you entered the noisy cantina, the sounds of people and creatures a harsh register to your ears.  There was music coming from somewhere, but you didn't bother to look, too focused on Obi-Wan's back.

It wasn't until he sat you at a table did you bother to look around. Everyone was carrying on, as if the war wasn't over. As if the Clones didn't betray their commanders and friends. As if the temple on Coruscant wasn't burning.. As if the Jedi weren't being systematically hunted down and killed.

Cody would have been disappointed in you.

You had ignored every possible exit, had failed to count the blasters you could see, and had failed to get the seat closest to the wall so you could face the door. But you couldn't be too angry at that one, Obi-Wan was locked on, watching every single person coming in and out.

But above all, you had failed to make a contingency plan to kill every person in the room. 

"Always plan, Mesh'la. Be polite, be courteous, never start a fight, show professionalism. But always have a plan to kill everyone in the room. Always plan to protect you and your own. Smile, but know how you will take everyone out if need be."

At the time you had called him cynical to think that way, but you understood now. You understood all of his lessons were to prepare you for moments like this.

After a while a server brought two bowls of bone broth and two cups of some sort of liquid; you didn't question. 

You waited for Obi-Wan to start eating, before tentatively spooning from the bowl. You ate in silence, neither of you in the mood for conversation. 

   When you were done, you waited for him to move to leave, but he just sat there, staring at the table.

   "Master?" 

   He looked at you then, his eyes were bloodshot and the bags under them made him look older than he was. Or perhaps they showed his true age, his normal boyish charm and good looks fallen away for a moment.

You quickly grabbed his hand in your own and squeezed it, before pulling away and tucking your hand back into your sleeve.   

"We will wait here for a few more hours. Then we will head to the outskirts to meet an acquaintance of mine. From there we will make our next move."

You nodded, sighed, and sat deeper into the rock bench.

A few hours later you were once again wrapped around Obi-Wan's waist, riding out into the desert. It was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim bulb on the front of the speeder. This time, at least, you were smart enough to tear away your robe and use the fabric to make a makeshift wrap for your face and his. This time, you didn't have to have your face pressed against his back. But, it didn't stop you from doing it a few times, hugging him tightly. You both knew that these would be the last moments you spent together. No one said it out right, but you could feel it all the same.

After a while you came upon a ridge, a small ship having landed in the canyon below. You didn't recognize it, but Obi-Wan made for it, which settled the anxiety growing in your chest.

It was larger up close, once you pulled up next to it.

Obi-Wan dismounted and helped you off, your legs slightly jelly from the long ride.

You both stood there, next to the bike, staring up into the hull. You shifted from foot to foot, your anxiety getting the better if you.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and a gentle squeeze before he went to hold your hand.

Even after everything, he still put you first. You were going to miss him so much.

The ramp opened up and a lone figure emerged, wearing a rather strange outfit.

"Master Kenobi! I was so worried. I had heard...rumors"

A strange Weequay man addressed your Master as he joined you on the ground.

"Hondo, it is good to see you, old friend." 

They grasped forearms in greeting before standing apart.

"Is it true, Master Jedi? Are they...."

Obi-Wan heaved a deep, bone weary sigh and nodded solemnly.

"Forgive me, my friend. I did not know. A thorn in my side, your Order may be, but I would never wish this on anyone."

It was then he noticed you, standing next to Obi-Wan just as tired and broken.

"Is this who you contacted me about?"

Your eyebrow raised as you turned to look at your Master, confused.

"Yes. Hondo, meet my Padawan Learner. LIttle one, meet Hondo Ohnaka."

You stepped forward and bowed slightly before returning back to your spot behind Obi-Wan.

"Hello there, Pretty Lady. I am Hondo, Pirate King and best friend to one Obi-Wan Kenobi."

He bowed with a flourish which caused Obi-Wan to roll his eyes.

You giggled though, and that sound had Obi-Wan smile slightly.

"It's nice to meet you, Hondo. Master? What does he mean?" You glanced over to Obi-Wan. You knew, in your heart, that this was it, but it still hurt, still clenched your chest. 

"Ahh, I will be...on the ship. Yes. Don't mind me, just going to do some routine maintenance before take off, have very important business to do...on the ship…" Hondo excused himself in a very Hondo way and walked back up the ramp, before disappearing into the hull.

Obi-wan turned to you and cleared his throat. You could see the anxiety welling up in his eyes, the fear that if he left you and you died, it would be his fault. Just like how Anikan was his fault. And Padme. He couldn't bear the thought of you dying when he could protect you, but, he had to stay. He knew he did. He had to watch over Luke and protect him. It was his new path in the Force.

Before he could speak, you cut him off trying to save him from his guilt. 

"So, this is it. This is where we part ways."

Obi-Wan released the deep sigh he didn't know he was holding and nodded.

"I have to stay. I have to watch over Luke. I can not let…"

"I know, Master." You gave him a tight lipped smile, eyes glassy with fat tears. You could feel your heart breaking, but you weren't sad. 

"Master, I need to tell you something. I don't want this to go unsaid between us," You paused, trying to collect your thoughts. How were you going to say what was on your heart? How were you going to reassure him of everything while being so scared yourself?

Obi-Wan waited patiently, only moving to once again hold your hands in his. There was so much he wanted to say as well, but he was just so tired. He was so very tired and everything pulled down on him more.

You took another deep breath, it was now or never…

"Master? I love you. You are the father I never had. When I think of family, I see you. And Ashoka. And," you choked, "Anakin." Your voice was small, almost lost in the howling winds of the canyon. But still you spoke, letting everything out. 

"All I have ever wanted was to make you proud. I wanted to be the best, not because I should strive to be a better Jedi, but because I wanted to honor you. When I lost my Master, I thought I was going to be forgotten, put aside until after the war, but then you came. You sat there in your chair in the Council Chamber and you saw me. You saw me. Being your Padawan was the greatest honor I could ever have had. I was being swallowed by this darkness in my heart, I was so lost and scared and confused. I lost myself when I lost my Master, but then you were there. You were this light that reached out for me. You pulled me out of that darkness. You anchored me in the present and the Light Side of the Force. Please don't think you've failed me. You haven't. You could never fail me. Obi-Wan Kenobi, you saved me. Everything I will ever strive to be is because of you. You are my father, Obi-Wan. And I love you."

You could feel the tightening in your chest, that anxious squeeze pulling at your insides as you waited for his response. Tears were falling down your face, making muddy tracks on your skin. Obi-Wan, for all his charm and quick wit, was speechless. He just stared at you with big, glazed, blue eyes. You were about to apologize for everything you said, hoping you didn't ruin the last moments with him you had, but then he pulled you to him.

He held you tight, crushing a bit of air out of your lungs. You felt him kiss the crown of your head before you wrapped your arms around him as well. 

You both stood there, holding on for dear life.  You could feel his tears in your hair, from where his cheek was pressed against your head. You could feel his heartbeat against your ear, where your face was against his chest. And you could feel his Force Signature mixed with yours, wrapping tightly around the both of you.

"Wherever you go in this world, whatever you decide to do, please know that I will always be with you. You are so strong, dear one. Don't ever think that I have never been proud of you. Look for me in the Force and you will find me. I will never abandon you."

You squeezed him harder and he held you tighter. You wanted to remember everything about him at this moment. His smell, like ozone and linen, the warmth of his chest, the scratch of his beard on your head, every little tactile sense you had was busy cataloging this exact moment, never to be forgotten. 

You didn't know, but he was doing the exact same thing.

"I will always love you, my brave Padawan."

"I will always love you, Master."

Slowly you both let go of each other, standing still.

There was a noise behind you, someone clearing their throat.

Hondo.

"I hate to break up this beautiful display of fatherly devotion, but, I am sorry, Master Jedi, if I am to take her with me, we must leave now. There is chatter on the com-waves."

Obi-Wan looked over your head at the man above you and nodded once.

"Yes, of course. Thank you Hondo. For everything."

"It is my honor, Master Jedi."

He looked back at you and reached out to squeeze your shoulders, before pulling you into one last hug. 

"May the Force be with you." 

"May the Force be with you, Master."

Slowly he let you go, heartbreak in his eyes. You turned and walked up the ramp, meeting Hondo at the hull opening. 

"We will leave soon, Pretty Lady. Please don't worry, I will keep you safe. I promise."

He nodded at you as you turned to look back at Obi-Wan. Your heart was in your throat and you didn't care that you were sobbing hard and deep. You were leaving everything you knew behind. Everything you are. Everything you have ever been was down there with him. But you knew, if you stayed, they would know. He would know. And you couldn't put Luke in that danger.

The ship started to move, gaining altitude, but still you stayed, watching him on the ground. You wanted to jump, to stay with him, to stay with the last bit of familiar comfort you had, but you didn't. You stayed glued to the side, watching him get smaller and smaller. 

He raised his hand in farewell as you began to shut the door. The air was beginning to thin and you would be in open space in a few moments.

But still you stayed. You stayed, looking at the grey durasteel side of the ship. You stayed, watching nothing as the ship left orbit. You stayed, trying to find purchase on anything as your heart was ripped from you. Cody, Rex, Obi-Wan, Jesse, Gregor, Ashoka, Kix, Fives, Wolffe, Plo, Padmé, Anakin. Everyone you had ever cared for, every single soul you considered family and friends and lovers were gone. Your entire family, your entire order, every single person, was dead. 

You were alone. You were utterly alone. And there was nothing you could do to change it.

[babyurthendofjune]

I am so excited to finally be posting this for y’all! Thank you so much for all the hype and support it is very much appreciated. :) this is my piece for @goldenbluesuit​‘s Christmas Fic Challenge! my prompt was the song “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” from the movie Frozen and I hope you all enjoy how I’ve incorporated it into my Dad!Harry series. You don’t necessarily have to read the other parts to understand this one, but I’ll link them below in case you want to re-visit them. 

I Want Your Belly ❄ Wonderful and Warm ❄ Washed Away in You 

Thank you to @tbslenthusiast​ and @heartbreakweatherharry​ for reading over this for me and giving me such amazing feedback! 

Word count: 2.3k

You still couldn’t believe the little wonder that had been created by you and Harry existed to be yours. Things hadn’t been perfect, far from it, but it was definitely a new and fun adventure you were both eager and terrified of.

The first challenge presented was finding a name perfect enough to fit your son. He was alive for 24 hours before you discovered one you and Harry were absolutely sure of. Even seeing it written on his birth certificate made your heart swell with pride.

It’s your mother who asks first, “Well, are you two gonna make a formal announcement to the press before us grandparents get to know the name of our grandson?”

“Think we’ve made them wait long enough, Harry.”

He smiles at you from across the hospital room where he sits in a chair, the baby resting peacefully on his chest. You’re propped up in the bed, wrapped in the soft pink robe given to you by him just a few days ago. Anne sits nearby, a proud grin on her face at the sight of her baby with his.

His eyes dart from the baby to you, “You wanna tell them or shall I?”

“You tell them. You’re the one that found it, been bragging about it all day too.”

“Alright then,” He gently lifts the baby, turning him to where the whole room can see him, your son’s face now scrunched up by the light from the window shining on him, “Ladies, meet your grandson, Sterling Edward Styles.”

“Oh, you didn’t,” Anne giggles, reaching over to pat your leg, “You’ll never hear the end of it, love, letting him name the baby after himself.”

“Hey! S’her idea to give him my middle name. I picked the first,” His features switch from temporarily offended back to beaming, “Wanna tell ‘em what it means, darlin’?”

“Sterling means ‘starling’, or as Harry likes to call him..”

“Our little star.” 

5 weeks later, your son certainly lives up to his name, charming everyone he meets. Sweet smiles and coos at strangers from his carrier when you’re at the grocery store or falling asleep in Auntie Gemma’s arms when she comes to visit. You were not surprised he already had his father’s charismatic ability to make everyone fall for him so quickly.

With Harry’s schedule as busy as it had been, it hadn’t been easy to adjust to life together as new parents. As much as he had tried to push things back or reschedule to have more time off with you, there was only so much that he was in control of and he was away from you and Sterling more than he liked.

So it’s no surprise when he comes home one evening and the space you share is mostly already decorated for the winter holidays. He smiles warmly to himself when he hears you singing along to the movie playing from the tv, peeks around the corner to see Sterling tucked away in his swing, his eyes open and bright. Your back is turned so you don’t hear Harry approaching, continuing to sing aloud as you work.

“We only have each other, it’s just you and me, what are we gonna dooooooo?” You spin around, expecting to only see Sterling watching you, yelping when you find Harry, giggling at the shock on your face.

He bends to look out the window, “Could be wrong, but I think you have to have snow to build a snowman, yeah?”

“You’re early! I wanted to surprise you,” You weave your way around boxes to greet him, “Left the tree for the 3 of us to do together though.”

“S’nice of you.” His hands remain in his pockets as you move closer, tired eyes looking down at you, lazy smile as you work your arms around his waist. He doesn’t make you wait long, freeing his hands from his pockets to wrap around you. 

He buries his face in your neck, “Missed you today.”

“We missed you too, H.”

He pulls back, turning to look down at Sterling, his arm still holding you close to his side, “He’s growing too fast. Can’t believe he’s already 5 weeks.”

“5 weeks and 3 days,” You remind him, “All the mommy blogs say we have an infant now.”

“S’that s’pose to mean? ‘Course he’s an infant.”

“Just means he’s growing out of his tiny baby stage.”

He directs his attention back to the movie playing, laughing as he teases you, “Least y’could’ve done is found a proper Christmas movie t’play while you put up decorations.”

You shrug, “It’s close enough to count. Plus he LOVES it. Think Elsa might be his favorite.”

He can’t resist anymore. As comfortable as his son may be swaying back and forth in his swing, he bends to scoop him up, one hand cradling behind his head and the other behind his back to easily support him. Sterling clearly doesn’t mind, a grin developing when he realizes who it is disturbing him.

“Don’t care what anyone says, bub. Y’ll always be daddy’s baby.”

You never doubted Harry’s capacity to love his son, but you definitely questioned his expertise and knowledge of the basics of caring for a child. He had become somewhat experienced now, tackling late night diaper changes and early morning feedings or anything else in between without complaint when he could. 

Though he had done great, you were never too far away that you couldn’t offer assistance when he needed it. So when he gets a rare day off and suggests you let him stay home with the baby while you run errands, you’re hesitant.  

“Do ya not trust me?”

“Of course I do. You know I do. I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

“S’just for a few hours, right? You can write out a list of his schedule if it makes y’feel better.”

Sterling’s stretched across your lap, dozing off while you try to finish the last of your breakfast. Harry stands at the counter, drinking coffee out of a bright pink mug. You look between your almost sleeping son and then back up to Harry, chewing a bite of toast as you contemplate the idea.

He doesn’t take offense to your hesitation, quite the opposite actually. He adores the sight of you, Sterling’s face squished against your chest; one of his hands tucked under his chin, the other wrapped around your side, his little fist holding tight to your t-shirt. It’s the purest form of love in his eyes, to see the bond between mother and son grow and deepen with each day. Makes him reminiscent of his connection with his own mother, fills his heart with so much joy knowing he had chosen someone that would give his son the same sweet upbringing he had.

He makes his way back around the counter to you, a hand resting on the top of Sterling’s head as he bends down to kiss the top of yours. He moves his hand, repeating the act of affection to the top of the baby’s head. 

“Really proud of you, y’know that right, baby? Been so amazing watching you take care of yourself and our little boy, never doubted for a second you were meant for this, but it’s been more incredible than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Proud of you too, H. Know you’ve had a lot of guilt about being gone, but Sterling and I love you so much. He already lights up at the sound of your voice when you FaceTime us from set, and I see the way he grins at you before he falls asleep when you’re here to tuck him in at night.” 

His eyes meet yours, sees the moment you make your decision to say yes, deep exhale of warm breath trapped between the two of you, “You have to promise to call if anything happens, if you need anything at all. Don’t care how small it is.” He nods firmly, further setting your mind at ease, “He should sleep most of the time I’m gone, but I’ll prepare another bottle just in case I can’t get back in time.”

You feel silly for feeling so protective, and you were thankful to have Harry as your partner on this journey. His patience and support had been more than generous, covering you and Sterling in more love and adoration than you’d ever known could exist from one person. He kisses you again, on your lips this time, a hand cupping one side of your face before gently lifting Sterling from your arms, shushing and bouncing him a bit when he starts to whimper from the sudden change in his comfortable position.

“S’okay, bubs. Daddy’s got you, g’nna have us a lil’ boys day while mumma’s gone.” 

You rush through whatever tasks you had scheduled that seemed so important that morning. Suddenly the groceries you needed and last minute presents you were dropping off at the post office to mail to out of town family didn’t matter, nothing did but getting back home to your boys.

It’s quiet when you shut the door behind you, almost too quiet. As much as you always prayed he would, Sterling never slept through his morning nap, so you’re surprised at the possibility of him still sleeping peacefully. Not that he was old enough to make too much noise yet, but still the silence worries you enough that you don’t even take the time to put away the groceries. You set the bags on the kitchen counter, making your way through the house to the living room first.

All your concern fades at the sight of Harry on the couch, Sterling snuggled in his arms with his back pressed against Harry’s front, his little body covered in a red and white striped onesie with a reindeer on the front, matching pair of green socks on his tiny feet. It’s such a comforting image, you once again question why you had any doubt at the thought of leaving the two of them alone. Harry hasn’t noticed your presence yet, or if he has he hasn’t said anything, and you’re content to keep it that way for a few more minutes to observe the vision set before you.

You notice the movie that’s playing, it’s the same one from a few nights ago that Harry teased you for. You cross your arms, quirking one eyebrow upwards before you repeat Harry’s words from that night out loud, “Boys day, huh? Could’ve at least found a proper Christmas movie to watch while I was gone.”

“I’ve decided you’re right, it does count. I can see why he loves it so much.” He looks up at you from where you lean over back of the couch now, a soft “hi” falling from his lips, tilting his head up to accept the kiss you offer. Sterling coos, and when you look down, he’s looking up at you too. 

“Mommy missed you too, baby boy.”

“Come sit with us, lovie, watch the rest of the movie.”

“Gimme a minute to put the groceries away and I will.”

“I’ll pause it and come help.”

“No, stay,” You run your hand through his hair, pushing the curls away from his face, “There’s not that much, I got it.”

You work swiftly to put everything away, taking a minute to change back into your pajamas before you rejoin them, curling yourself against Harry’s side under his free arm. Sterling’s dozing again, most likely falling into a milk coma from the bottle he had just finished, but it doesn’t stop the two of you from continuing to watch the same movie together. You offer to take Sterling or put him in his swing, but he just shakes his head no, clinging tighter to him and you.

“S’my favorite part, this song.”

“What? It’s the saddest one. Elsa and Anna’s parents die in this one.” 

He shrugs, careful not to shuffle Sterling and disturb his sleep, “Maybe, but s’catchy, gets stuck in my head more than the others.” 

He begins humming along to the intro music, nudging you softly to persuade you to start singing along with the character on the screen. You sit up, dramatically clearing your throat before you do. Harry knows more of the words than he cares to admit, but would rather hear the lyrics sung by you. He giggles at you as you even change your voice to mimic the silly parts.

“It gets a little lonely. All these empty rooms. Just watching the hours tick by…”

Harry provides the tick-tock part, clicking his tongue off-tune to the ones playing in the song. That’s enough to make you laugh out loud, temporarily forgetting the sleeping baby now resting on Harry’s chest. He shushes you playfully, his body shaking through his own laughter thankfully soothing Sterling enough that he doesn’t wake up.

You compose yourself as the song turns slow and mournful, tucking yourself back to Harry’s side again. His hand works around to cup your waist, squeezing lightly to pull you closer, the vibrations of him humming along again a comforting rumble against your body. His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as he sings the last notes of the song.

“We only have each other. It's just you and me. What are we gonna doooooo?”

Your eyes scan the whole of the room. Your boys nestled together next to you, the tree in the corner of the room the 3 of you had decorated together a few days before, the pile of presents that had already accumulated underneath it. You spot your favorite ornament, a silver star with Sterling’s full name engraved on the front, “Baby’s First Christmas” etched on the back. Sterling’s first present from your family sent from home. Well, what used to be your home for the holidays. A smile spreads across your face at the simple happiness and realization that this is your home now. 

Harry, Sterling, and you; sun, moon, and star, spending your first holiday together.

 //

Thank you all for reading! As always likes/rbs/and comments are more than welcome. Tell me what you think here!

tag list: @taintedwonder​, @cock-a-doodely-doo

[on-maars]

Find My Way Home (Back To You)

Alright I wrote a post Eddie Begins episode fic and I really hope you’ll like it :)

Read it on AO3

Eddie sighs and turns around for what might be the tenth time in the past two hours.

He can’t sleep. He can’t sleep without being back there again. He can’t sleep without stopping the nightmares. Not about the war. He’s had his fair share of night terrors about the war, but lately the nightmares have taken another direction. He doesn’t dream of being the target of a thousand snipers anymore. He dreams of that moment. He dreams of being back there again, buried in the ground, thirty feet of wet earth above him, trapped, without any way of getting back to his son, without any way of getting back to his family. It’s suffocating, and Eddie often wakes up soaking wet, his hair sticking to his forehead, his sheet drenched in sweat. Drenched in sweat, and tears. His tears.

He can’t sleep and he tried everything. Every method he can think of. Every method his mother used to teach him when he was scared and alone at night, suffering from insomnia. He tried some breathing exercises his therapist showed him the week before, tried taking a walk around the neighborhood to clear his head and take his mind off things, he tried reading a book and even went through some meditations videos on YouTube that Buck recommended to him a while back. But nothing is working. His mind keeps sending him back to that place. To the well.

Eddie turns around again and lets his eyes fall on his alarm clock as it reads 2:49am. Eddie sighs and presses his hands to his face, apprehending the 24 hours shift waiting for him in the early hours of the morning. Not necessarily because of the fatigue. After all it wouldn’t be the first time Eddie gets through an awfully long shift with the 118 with only a few hours of sleep in his system.

No, he’s only apprehending it because he knows, deep down, that he’s so far from being in the right state of mind to face the difficulties of his job. He feels more restless, more fidgety, less focused than usual. And if there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that the 118 is going to notice his mood swings. And if they notice, then he’s going to need to explain. Explain the extent of how messed-up he is in the head. Explain how the war still terrorized him sometimes at night. Explain how tight his throat is ever since he’s made it out of that well. And that’s a conversation he’s not ready to face.

Eddie looks up at the ceiling and gropes around in the dark until his right hand finds his phone. He knows scrolling mindlessly the news is only going to keep his brain more awake but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He unlocks his phone and frowns when he notices an unseen message from his sister in his inbox. The message is short, but it catches Eddie’s attention.

“Isn’t he your friend Buck?!”

There is a link just underneath it and when Eddie clicks on it, his breath catches in his throat and his heart starts pounding hard against his chest. It’s a video. A video of that day. A video of the rig, collapsing, and burying him under thirty feet of earth in the process. Only the video doesn’t show only that. It also shows his coworkers’ reaction. It also shows Buck.

Buck

Buck, who collapses on the ground and completely falls to pieces. Buck, who screams his name and starts digging the earth with his bare hands. Buck, who bursts into tears and whose face is contorted with fear, rage and pain. Eddie watches him as he continues calling out his name in agony, he watches him as Bobby needs to physically restrain him to stop him from digging, and Eddie swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the sight.

The scene is devastating, heartbreaking, and the last seconds of the video only shows Buck, sitting on the ground, his head down, tears rolling down his face, as the rain continues pouring down on him.

By the time Eddie finishes watching the video, his hands are shaking and the room is spinning. His whole body is tense, buzzing with a nervous energy and Eddie closes his eyes fiercely but he can’t get the images out of his head. How can he? How can he when he had to sit through and watch his best-friend having a complete breakdown in a video with more than a million views? How can he when until then, he was so far up his own ass not to notice that Buck was hurting too? Not to notice that he wasn't the only one who ended up traumatized by this day?

He sits back straight on his bed, and leans his back against the headboard, running both of his hands through his hair a few times, ignoring how his heart pulses in his head, making it hurt.

He takes his phone in his hand and gets up, stepping out of his room and going down the stairs until he reaches the living-room. Here, he lets himself fall on the couch, rubbing his temples with his fingers, his eyes closed. In vain. It’s no use. It’s no use trying to get his breathing back to normal while the only thing he really wants is to see his best-friend with his own two eyes and make sure he’s okay.

“Can you come over?” He sends. It’s short and vague, but Eddie knows Buck keeps his phone in sound mode at all times just in case this kind of emergencies come up.

But is it an emergency? Eddie asks himself as he brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It’s not. Not really. But Buck’s answer still comes after just a few seconds.

“Be there in 15. You okay? Christopher?”

“We’re okay. Just need to see you.”

Eddie jumps out of the couch and starts pacing back and forth in the living-room, not knowing what to do with himself. He squats down and starts picking up every Lego bricks lying around on the carpet, on the coffee table under the sofa. Christopher was in the middle of building a (more than unstable) house before heading to bed and he seemed so tired from his school day Eddie didn’t have the heart to ask him to tidy. He’s in the middle of retrieving a brick which ended up under the carpet when he hears the distinct sound of someone opening the front door.

He whirls his head around and finds himself face to face with Buck who looks around the living-room in alarm, his eyes wide. His hair is disheveled and his shoes are mismatched and Eddie almost feels bad for waking him up in the middle of the night while they both have a 24 hours shift waiting for them in a few hours. His best-friend’s face softens when his eyes fall on him, and Eddie doesn’t waste any time to close the gap separating them and wrapping his arms around his neck to hold him close.

“Evan Buckley I swear to god you’re going to be the death of me.” He says, not thinking twice before burying his face in the crook of his best-friend’s neck. Buck seems taken aback for a few seconds, but he doesn’t question it and reciprocate the embrace with just as much vigor. “I’m sorry.” Eddie eventually says, grabbing his tee-shirt with his right hand.

“You’re sorry?” Buck repeats, his voiced filled with confusion. “About what?” He adds.

“God I’ve been so far up my own ass these past few days, haven’t I?” Eddie asks, taking a step back and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, following his gaze until he’s sure Buck looks at him in the eye. His best-friend seems reluctant at first, almost as if he already knows where the conversation is going, but then he finally meets his gaze and Eddie’s look is so intense and he’s watching him with so much attention something in his face just breaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what, Eds?” Buck asks, but from the way his voice breaks, Eddie knows it’s just a way for him to try and take the conversation elsewhere.

“Buck.” Eddie says, and it’s a warning. We’re having that conversation whether you like it or not.

“Eddie, just- Don’t, alright?” Buck starts. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s all that matters.”

“I saw the video.” Eddie says, taking another step backwards until he sits on a kitchen chair, running his right hand through his hair.

“What video?” Buck says, his voice small, but sighs and looks down when Eddie maintains eye-contact. “Took you long enough.” He only adds, leaning against the fridge. “It was literally everywhere on the news. Big headlines too.” He says, letting out a humorless laugh.

“Buck-”

“But again, I’spose it’s fun to see a firefighter completely losing it after his best-friend has been buried thirty feet underground.” Buck cuts in, his voice hollow. “I guess it ‘entertains’ people just fine”

“Buck-” Eddie starts, but his friend is faster.

“As if I want to relive that moment, you know?” Buck goes on and his voice is louder now, more aggressive. “As if one time wasn’t enough.”

“Buck, I-”

“Eddie, you cut the damn line!” He exclaims and Eddie jumps with surprise at how raw and demanding his tone is. “You cut the damn line!” He repeats and a tear rolls down his left cheek. “And you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that I can’t even blame you for it! You wanted to save that kid… I mean, how can I blame you for wanting to save that kid, Eddie? I can’t. I would be a fucking hypocrite if I did, man. Cause I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t be mad.” Eddie says, keeping his eyes down, incapable of meeting his best-friend’s gaze. “It doesn’t mean you can’t be angry.” He adds. “Hell, I know I would be.”

“I just- Eddie, did you ever stop for a second to imagine what it was like for me? I was pulling you out Eds. I was pulling you out and then the weight was just- the weight was just gone. You were gone.” He says through gritted teeth and Eddie darts his eyes towards him for just a second, but that’s still enough time for him to see the expression of complete agony and pure heartbreak on his best-friend’s face. Eddie looks away just as fast and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“But that’s not even the worst part, oh no.” Buck goes on and Eddie knows this one is on a roll. He’s determined and he won’t stop until he got everything off his chest. “ Because then this damn rig just collapsed and I- I couldn’t get you out, I- You were… You were buried, Eds. You were buried and I swear to god I would have dug the whole thing with my bare hands if I had to.”

“I know you would’ve.” Eddie only says, staring at Buck, his eyes filled with the tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past fifteen minutes. “I know you would’ve.”

“I didn’t give up on you.” Buck answers, as if he’s trying to justify his actions in a courtroom. “You’ve got to know that, alright?” He repeats. “I didn’t give up on you. Even when people were trying to convince me that there was no way you would have survived that, I didn’t- I didn’t give up on you.”

“Hey, hey, I know.” Eddie instantly reassures him, getting up and closing the gap between them. “I know.” He repeats, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands. “You didn’t give up.”

“I didn’t give up.” Buck nods, his lips quivering.

“Buck, do you think- do you think I’m mad at you because you didn’t try hard enough?” Eddie manages to articulate, his fingers playing with the roots of Buck’s hair. “How could you have tried any harder?” Eddie adds, letting out a nervous laugh. “For Christ’s sake Evan, you told me yourself you were ready to dig the whole thing by hands. There’s nothing you could have done. You hear me?”

Buck frantically nods and Eddie sighs, wrapping his right arm around his neck to pull him forward. Buck’s whole body tenses and it’s only when his shoulders start shaking that Eddie realizes his best-friend is full-on sobbing against him, his tears wetting his white tee-shirt. Buck rests his forehead on his shoulder and Eddie simply runs his left hand through his hair while the other traces small patterns on his back, holding him tight. He presses his lips on his hair, closing his eyes fiercely for a few seconds while throwing his head backwards, looking up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry.” Buck says against him. “Here I am again, making the whole thing about me while you’re the one who’ve been buried underground.”

“Don’t be stupid Buck, I’m the one who should apologize here. I was so focused on my pain and the nightmares that I-”

“Nightmares?” Buck whirls his head up to meet his eyes. “You have nightmares about the well?” He asks, his eyes full of concern, and Eddie lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Yeah but that’s not the point, Buck.” He says, dismissing his concern with a hand’s gesture. “I should have seen you were hurting. I’m sorry.” He adds. “And yes I have nightmares but Buck you need to know you’re the only reason I got out. You and Christopher? I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Wouldn’t have done it. But I promised myself I’ll always find my way back home. So I did.”

Eddie cradles his chin with his left hand, forcing him to look up.

“That… That was sappy as hell, man.” Buck tries and Eddie snorts, placing his hand on his cheek to make him look away.

“Says the one who was ready to dig thirty feet of wet earth with his bare hands.” He says playfully and then Buck does this thing again where he looks down with a shy smile and Eddie’s heart just melts at the sight.

When Buck lifts his gaze again, their lips are only separated by a few inches of space and Eddie’s head is spinning. He stays there, motionless, not knowing whether he should finally gives in to years of pining and unresolved tension. But then, Buck’s eyes dart towards his lips and all his good sense goes up in smoke. Eddie looks at him for permission and when Buck nods, he places his hand on the back of his neck and presses their lips together. It doesn’t last long. It’s brief, and when Eddie takes a step back, Buck’s lips chase his own a second time and he only smiles and complies happily.

This time, the kiss is more heated and Buck’s hands find their way on the back of Eddie’s neck, biting his lower lip to demand access to his mouth. Eddie smiles against his mouth and runs both of his hands through his hair, bringing him closer. This earns him a small whimper from Buck and Eddie only kisses him harder, pressing his best-friend’s body against the fridge and sliding his hand underneath his tee-shirt.

“God I can’t believe we waited three years to do that.” Buck says Eddie huffs out a laugh against his lips.

“Well I mean you were a bit slow on the uptake.” Eddie teases him.

“Oh fuck off.” Buck taps him on the head playfully. “You know I couldn’t just- I had to be sure.”

“I know.” Eddie says, his voice soft.

“I couldn’t do the first move. I had to wait for… I had to wait for you to do it. Even if I knew that you- because I knew. Of course I knew. But-”

“Hey.” Eddie cuts him off by cupping his cheeks with his hands. “I know.” He repeats. “Alright then Evan. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Lead the way, Edmundo.”

“Not my name.” Eddie says with a smile, taking his hand in his to guide him towards the bedroom.

“Sorry. Eduardo.”

“Still not my name, man."

"Diaz?"

"That's it, you’re sleeping on the damn couch, Buckley.” Eddie warns but the smile on his face betrays him.

“Really? You would make me sleep on the couch? The guy who was ready to dig 30 feet of wet earth with his bare han-”

“Oh my god will you shut up?” Eddie whispers loudly, being careful not to wake up Christopher fast asleep in the adjoining room.

“Make me.” Buck says, a hint of amusement in his voice and Eddie?

Well Eddie wastes no time to crash their lips together another time.

[the-darklings]

coa one year later & self-reflection

(*drags out a creaky metal chair and plops down on it heavily*)

Hi. It’s me, ya boi skinny--

Wait, wrong one. Do over.

Hi, it’s me, Kat, and I’m not dead. Clearly. Today being one year anniversary of COA has kinda put me in a reflective mood, so I guess I decided to sit down and just...talk about some things, thoughts and feelings I’ve been bottling inside for a hot sec. Especially given how radio silent I have gone on here and people deserve a bit of perspective. 

And before anyone starts worrying, it’s all good, and I’m still around and currently in good health for the most part. 

So, let’s take it back to the start. Regardless of how dramatic it may sound, we need to go back a year for that. 

By technicality alone, COA actually turned one year old on October 12th. That’s when the first part was posted. However, the reason I’m treating today as the aforementioned birthday is simple: I had no intention of this story ever being more than a short two-parter. I told this to the discord gang already but COA was only going to have two parts. V was going to die in Tokyo and the rest of the story follows glimpses of John throughout the movies and it’s her ghost that haunts him. Skipping ahead, it was going to have a bittersweet ending of John eventually dying, having completed his task, only to be greeted by V, Daisy and Helen in the afterlife. A peace of sorts. Then, I realised that, well, no. I have more to say on this world and intrigue about this placeholder character V kept growing. 

November 1st happened and I made a very last minute call to continue COA but with the added pressure of doing it during NaNoWriMo 2019. And boy did I. Most of the story was figured out during that very intense month. I posted Part 2 on this day a year ago because I was so eager to share it. Perhaps, in retrospect, a bit too eager. 

For those of you who may not know this, I work as a writer full time for my actual every day job. I’m the main writer for an original webcomic called In the Bleak Midwinter on Webtoon.com and have been for almost two years now. Getting what is essentially your dream job is amazing. I’m very lucky on that front but it also taught me stark realities of having your job and only hobby overlap. It’s a dangerous creative mix. Especially because I was not used to being constraint in what I create or the feeling like I have to please anyone else. Writing as a job is a whole other avenue of creative exhaustion. I love my job a lot and am very, very lucky to have it but it doesn’t change the fact that those initial stages made me fall back on COA a lot for creative freedom that I craved so desperately. To an unhealthy degree looking back on it now. 

But going back to November last year. NaNo time. I did it. Finished on the 24/25th I believe. A juicy final count of 52k+. All while maintaining a weekly update schedule for a fic that usually hit around 10k per update, if not more, even during those early days. Add writing an original story on top of that. Writing every day for hours on end (we are talking 10-12hr days) without any time for other hobbies or time for myself in general. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Losing weight and sleep in the process. I think the thing that convinced me that I should continue doing so is the fact that the outpour of support for COA ended up surpassing anything I ever expected or even dared to hope for. I’m not a huge numbers person but the outpour of love and just sheer investment in the story and characters blew me away. John Wick fandom is on the smaller side and has been going through downtime when I posted COA so my expectations were...well, small tbh. I like keeping expectations low to avoid any disappointments in general. But I’ve also always had an issue of being a massive 0 or 100 kind of person. If I love something, it consumes me. In this case, it brought me as much joy and freedom as much as it was steadily pushing me towards the ultimate crash. 

That being said, I can’t thank you all enough for every comment, like, reblog and message and fanart. You’re the reason I got this far. With your support. It brightened some really dark days for me.

But. 

To be frank, it’s never been about you guys. I never wrote or pushed because I felt like I had to appease anyone. That creative mindset is pure poison and I long since learned to let go of it. I kept pushing and kept working myself to the bone because I liked it. I liked how reading peoples’ responses made me feel. I liked the addictive nature of reading all the comments and theories after an update. I loved the idea of brightening peoples’ days and giving them something to cheer them up after what might have been a shitty day. Even if that was at expense of my own time/well being. But for a long time, it wasn’t. I love writing a lot but facts remain facts. 

It was beyond unhealthy and burnout wasn’t a question of if but when and that when was approaching at neck-breaking speed. 

So we come to the end of November. Part 4 has just come out. People were invested and I was invested alongside them. I was just finishing up Part 5 which (back then) was the biggest single chapter I’ve ever written and god I still recall my sheer dread because that was the beginning of Santino being established as a LI. Looking back on that now, it’s downright hilarious how worried I was about the reception of him and V together after John.

So honestly, I hit burnout at around Part 8. Because that’s the first time I recall struggling with writing a chapter. Part 8 came out on December 28th. I had a brief break for holidays. But my mistake was not taking longer back then. Because I continued writing with a barely healed burnout. Followed by almost a year of struggling and continuously creating through that state. It wasn’t like I eased off the pressure, either. Oh, no. The chapters grew in size, the world and the characters with it. AUs amassed quickly and while I adore every single one - again, I didn’t know how to pace myself well enough.

I’m spiteful though. The more the chapters struggled the more I pushed against the burnout. By the time Chicago arrived, however, I knew I was in trouble. I ended up writing 43k+ in a span of 2 months, I believe. And while to some it may not seem like a lot given the time frame, it’s a lot when you’re burnout to a crisp & writing an original story for work + deadlines. Which I was burned out and then some. Chicago was something I was looking forward to writing for months. I have built it up since Part 4. It was a long time coming. So while I’m still proud of it, I would be lying if I said that some scenes were not sacrificed for the sake of keeping to my invisible schedule that no one but me actually cared about. You guys have always been patient. I never felt pushed into anything. It’s always only ever been me doing the harm. 

Chicago was the downwards spiral for me mentally. I felt like I was failing to live up to my own expectations. That people were drifting away from it. I was plagued by the thought that the story I poured so much into was falling apart and growing weaker. Which this has always been an issue with me: I am my own harshest critic. Always have been. In fact, I’m a downright mean little fucker when it comes to just tearing at myself. I know writing is for fun - and it is - but I still like the idea of being proud of my work which only made everything worse despite the love each update received. 

This takes us to the beginning of June. Specifically, June the 2nd. Or, as I like to call it: Kat Makes Another Impulsive Decision but This One Actually Works Out For the Better. On this day, I created the COA Discord server. And damn, I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting when I did ngl. I did it for fun and as an escape more so than anything. But somehow it ended up being the best decision I made in a long while. I know some of you are reading this. So love you lots, dorks. It’s such a privilege to be able to call so many of you my friends even outside of COA now. That little community has given me some of the best memories from this year and helped me to crawl out of my own metaphorical pit I was stuck in. Mentally, I’m doing much better than I did beginning of this summer. Which could be summed up as a constant self-hatred cycle and a feeling of inadequacy. 

That, however, does not mean my burnout magically disappeared. If anything Chapter 17 just put a nail in the coffin so to speak. 2020 has been a shitty year just across the board for obvious reasons I don’t need to go into here but that can only partially be attributed to my mental state. Chapter 17 was...exhaustive. To say the least. But I was determined to stick with my vision and not split it up. I was also starting to be a bit more forgiving towards myself in terms of how long I may take to write it thanks to guys on discord though the feeling of failure and worry never quite faded fully. I’m proud of Part 17. Truly. But that was also when I hit rock bottom creatively on COA. It drained me completely. 

I tried writing Part 18 for weeks after, day in and day out, not getting past the first scene and hating every word I wrote. So I took a deep breath and stopped. Figured I let it marinate and wait instead of trying to piece one of the most crucial chapters in this story like some Frankenstein monster two sentences at the time.

So my solution was simple: give myself some distance from it and write other things. Get my spark back. Of course that’s always a good idea. Having multiple creative escapes is the best thing you can do for yourself creatively. There was just one tiny little problem. 

I was still burned out. Still am. The problem went deeper than just being burned out over COA. I was burned out over writing itself. 

Which is an issue for a person who only has writing as a creative outlet.

I don’t have any other way to express myself. So I was stuck in a runt, trying to write because it’s the only thing that makes me genuinely happy even when I really shouldn’t have. And let me tell you. It’s a shitty fucking feeling. My burnout worsened. I had a thousand ideas but every time I tried to get them down it felt forced, fragmented, and weak. Repetitive and dry. Now, this is also in part because English isn’t my native language, so my vocab is limited as a result, but I hit that sweet rock bottom in that regard, too. 

So, I worked on V (but in her OC form Clara), Lucien and The Elites. All those characters have grown so much since you last read about them. I have multiple original projects planned down the line that will feature all of them existing in their own world, with their own stories and no longer constrained by JW canon.  

Which, finally, takes us to the end of October and beginning of November 2020. 

I was convinced that the best course of action was to do NaNo again but with an original story this time (involving V). Suffice to say, it took a grand total of maybe 5-6 days and hating every second of writing it while also feeling like this project I’m so passionate and excited to write (still am) is just...going down the toilet to be blunt, to realise I may have made the wrong call. 

Still, the stubborn ass that I am, I pushed through. Convinced I can get into it if I just keep going. The realizations that I am sharing with you right now won’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for a rather curious turn of events about a week and a half ago.

I recently bought a gaming laptop, all in preparation for Cyberpunk 2077 dropping ofc. But, in the meantime, I kept recommending a game to a friend on the COA server. That game? Far Cry 5. (It’s a blast to play btw, just a side note.) And playing it brought back all the feelings of nostalgia from the days when I used to write for that fandom. So I revisited some old work. Checked the stuff I never published and that has been sitting ducks in my docs for months and hoo boy. Let me tell you it was a vibe check of the worst kind. 

The stark difference in the prose and the ease with which it flowed was...startling. It made me remember why I love writing so much and how proud I used to be of what I wrote back in the day. Which is not to say I’m not proud now, but it was just such a sharp dip in quality it was impossible to ignore.  

So I didn’t.  

I paused NaNo, moving it to another month. I paused writing for everything but work, which with our season coming to an end I will also get a rest from soon, too. I kinda paused in general. For the first time in a while, I finally forced myself to switch off. Rest. 

The reason why I haven’t been on here is simple: guilt and not having energy to be on here. I like making my blog a safe space for everyone. Similar to escape it has become for me. I couldn’t pretend I was fine when I wasn’t. I felt obliged to perform and being here became exhausting. I haven’t been checking my inbox. Haven’t done much of anything except occasionally dropping by and reblogging a random post so people know I’m alive.

And that’s that, folks. That’s where I am currently. Resting. Completely exhausted mentally but resting. Getting my energy back. 

So where does that leave us, huh? If you read this far, dunno what to tell you. Thanks, I suppose. It’s still odd to think people actually care about my existence sometimes.

I know what you’re likely thinking, too. So does this mean COA is never gonna be finished? What is gonna happen to it? Are you abandoning it?

The answer: no. 17 out of 25 chapters and 250k+ in, I’m too far in not to give it a proper conclusion. Not because I owe it to anyone other than myself. I want this story to be a stepping stone for my future as a writer. I want to prove to myself that I can get this done and finish it. As of right now (as you can no doubt tell with how long it’s been since last update) it’s on a soft hiatus while I rest. This rest? Not sure how long it may last. Right now, my plan is till mid December at which point I will reevaluate. Ideally, I finish the year with an update. But my New Year’s resolution is to finish COA. That timeline has become a little more murky now but, again, ideally it’s within the first quarter of 2021. Will that happen? I don’t know. And I don’t want to make false promises, either. 

All I’m saying is that it will be done. I’m just no longer sure how long, exactly, it may take me to reach that Epilogue. I don’t expect many people to stick around for however long it may take me, but if you do, thank you. Truly. I really and deeply mean that. 

So what’s on the cards for this blog in the meantime? Well, CP77 is coming out in under a month (if it doesn’t get moved again lmao rip) and I expect that to be my soft return to posting my writing on here again. We will see where the muse takes me, if at all. Regardless though, I’m excited. 

One doctorate thesis later, here we are at the end of this really long rambling session. I hope that this has given you some perspective on things going on behind the scenes. I spared you some of the gorier details but I think this post has been long overdue. I suppose I, myself, was just too unwilling to face these things despite knowing about them deep down for a while now. I’m too self-critical not to notice but acting on correcting this behavior has been a whole other matter clearly. 

Thank you for reading this post, my writing in general, and supporting me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still around. More is on the way in the future. I’ll be seeing you all real soon. And all my love to all of you. 

Love,

- Kat.   

[scapegrace74-blog]

The Second First Christmas

A/N Despite the fact that I’m posting it after Boxing Day, this little fic is about Metric Jamie and Claire celebrating their first Christmas as a couple.  It is unadulterated fluff, and in keeping with the season of giving, I’m going to give this an Explicit rating.  You’re welcome.

With special thanks to @lady-o-ren, for Jamie’s gift idea!

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

December 24, 2018, Spitalfields, London, England

Claire could hear her phone vibrating loudly on the metal shelf inside her duty locker.  Overcoming fatigue so severe it blurred her vision, she entered her combination and yanked open the door, thumbing the screen just before the call went to voicemail.

How did he do it?  Jamie had an uncanny, and frankly slightly unsettling, ability to guess her whereabouts, even remotely.  The past week he had found her in the massive Spitalfields Market merely on the hunch that she would be craving sushi after her Pilates class.  At one point she’d found his prescience disturbing, but now it soothed her.  Someone cared for her enough, knew her well enough, to plot the passage of her days on the virtual map of his mind.  And that someone was on the line.

“You’ve reached the voicemail for Claire Beauchamp’s circadian rhythm.  Press One if you’re a cortisol suppressant, Two if you’re an espresso machine, or Three if you’re Claire’s boyfriend, last seen in the flesh prior to the winter solstice.”

Jamie’s low rumbling chuckle filled her ear.

“Ye’re verra funny for a lass goin’ on twenty-four hours wi’out sleep, Sassenach. How was yer shift?”

Having worked most holidays in the A&E since graduating nursing school, Claire knew they went one of two ways: either complete bedlam, or utter boredom.  This one had been the latter, for which she was thankful.

“Surprisingly calm, but that means no lovely adrenaline to keep me awake.  I may sleepwalk into the Thames on my way home.  Are you at the station already?”

“Aye, jus’ starting my shift.  Can ye be at the main entrance of the hospital in five minutes?  I’ll call ye an Uber.”

“Jamie, that’s really not necessary.  I’m quite capable of walking...”

“Claire...” he interrupted, and needn’t say anything more.  They’d had numerous conversations and minor confrontations since becoming a couple over what Jamie termed her “wee addiction to self-sufficiency”.  She was trying to learn to accept help when it was offered, but it was an iterative process.

“Thank you.  I’d appreciate that.  Will I see you tomorrow morning before I go back on duty?”

Both Jamie and Claire were working extra hours over the holidays to offset the cost of refurnishing their flat.  Every minute spent together was therefore doubly precious.

“Aye, I’ll wake ye when I get in an’ we can celebrate our second first Christmas t’gether by tryin’ tae keep the other awake long enough tae open our presents.”

She smiled, but it morphed into a yawn.

“Get some rest, Sassenach.  And Claire,” he added in a serious tone, “t’would be a fine gift tae find ye in my bed, preferably naked, when I come home on Christmas morn.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she husked, suddenly much more awake.

***

There was a puff of cool air and then the Earth moved.  Straining to hold onto slumber, Claire rolled away from the disturbance, gripping the blanket beneath her chin.  A low chuckle preceded a solid warmth radiating along the entire length of her spine.  Something bristly abraded her shoulder and she flinched away.

“Has anyone told ye ye look like a wee hedgehog when ye sleep, Sassenach?”

“I’m fairly confident they haven’t,” she retorted, rolling onto her back and stretching before opening her eyes.  The room was mostly dark, but Jamie’s auburn curls glowed in the dim lamplight escaping their living room.  His bare shoulders were humid and pink from the shower.  “What time is it?” she asked.

“Gone four.  We have a few hours afore ye have tae be back at the A&E, aye?”

“Mmmm,” she hummed affirmatively, caught up in tracing the ligatures of Jamie’s upper arm.

“Good.  That should leave us jus’ enough time.”

“Just how many presents are we exchanging?” Claire laughed, mesmerized by the eager passage of Jamie’s eyes over her face.  The hand that wasn’t bracing his head aloft began a lazy exploration beneath the blankets, touching her naked skin so softly that it almost tickled.

“Only two.  An’ the first one’s already unwrapped.”

“How fortuitous,” she teased before leaning upwards to capture his waggish lips in a warm introductory kiss.  “Merry Christmas,” she murmured as they parted some time later.

“An’ tae ye as well, Sassenach.  Ye canna imagine how many times I thought of ye t’night, yer beautiful skin warm against my sheets.”  Jamie’s free hand was on the move again, firmer now along the contours of her body as it came alive to his touch.

“Slow night, then?” she gasped as his knuckle found her nipple, slackened with sleep.

“Painfully so.”

There was no further conversation for a time, mouths being employed far more enjoyably.  Four months of intimacy had bridged the span from friends to lovers, replacing hesitation with ardour.  They were still learning each other’s tells; when to lead and when to follow, how to ask and how to demand.  It was a giddy education for them both.  

Tonight, Jamie’s fatigue and drawn-out anticipation left him shaking with want, a sensation akin to sharing a bed with an earthquake.  His broad torso was outlined in the light from the door as he knelt between her thighs, lust pinwheeling like sparklers in his eyes.  Fortunately, condoms were no longer a necessity after they both produced clean blood tests and Claire had an IUD implanted.  So when he slid into her body, there was nothing but the needy clasp of flesh on flesh.  Her sigh of pleasure mingled with Jamie’s groan of relief as they began their dance.

“Yer breasts, mo nighean donn,” Jamie growled past the iron clench of his jaw.  She dragged her pupils down from the back of her eyelids to observe the twin objects in question, undulating in time to their meeting and parting.

“Touch them for me,” Jamie commanded.

Aware that her every movement was being minutely observed, she made a show of arching her ribs and running her hands first beside, then below, and finally between her breasts.

“Seadh, mo ghaol.” The words snuck unbidden between Jamie’s strained lips.  She didn’t have the Gaihldig, but his meaning was clear.  Go on.  So go on she did, dragging fingernails over the creased flesh of each areola before giving both nipples a sudden pinch.  Whatever tectonic fluctuations her actions caused, Jamie felt them, for he let out an ecstatic whimper.  A worried furrow now marred his brow.  Her fluent eyes read the desperation written on his face.  He didn’t have long, and he needed her to go before him.

Her right hand drifted down to where they were joined.  His cock was thoroughly coated in her moisture as it emerged from her body.  Wetting her fingertips, she began to trace the intricate geometry of self-pleasure against her flesh.  Breathy moans filled the air.  Jamie’s teeth were bared in a snarl of panicked concentration.  She wasn’t going to overtake him in the wire sprint to the finish, she realized.

“Do it, Jamie.”  His crazed glance snapped upward to meet her own certain one.  Doubt clouded the seascape of his irises.  “God, please,” she begged.  They’d spoken of it.  A fantasy.  A mental titillation not yet brought to life.

Resolution came just in time.  Slipping from her heat, he grasped himself and with two hard strokes erupted all over her skin with a hoarse cry, anointing the final acceleration of her fingers as she echoed his climax with a convulsion and a sob.

Minutes later, they lay side by side, still recovering their breath.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Claire warned.  “We still need to exchange gifts.”

“Greedy wee thing,” Jamie groaned, already halfway to slumber.

***

A shared shower and two cups of strong coffee later, they sat on their new sofa.  Claire’s carefully wrapped gift for Jamie lay on the coffee table before them.

“I can’t help but notice that there’s nothing under our tree for me, Fraser.”

“Och, ye mean ye expect me tae serve ye and give ye a wee present, Sassenach.  Ye truly are greedy,” he groused dramatically.  Standing, he extended his hand and confused, Claire allowed him to lead her towards her bedroom.  For a moment she considered that he might actually be taking her back to bed.  As he turned on the light she understood his intention.

As a lifelong wanderer, Claire could count on the fingers of one hand her precious material possessions.  Her mother’s emerald earrings.  Her father’s pocket watch.  A jade fish from the Cat Street night market in Hong Kong, a lucky talisman she carried in her pocket for every test and exam.  And a beautiful antique print of Persepolis left to her by her Uncle Lamb.  All but this last had survived their apartment fire unscathed, but the water and smoke damage to its parchment had been irreparable.  Or so she had believed.

“Jamie,” she gasped upon seeing the lithograph once again mounted in its frame on her wall.  “But... how?”

“Well, I willna bore ye with the details, but suffice it tae say that there’s an antiquarian o’er in Bermondsey who can work miracles.  There’s still a wee bit o’ smudging near the edges, but I reckon it adds to its character,” he explained.

“A palimpsest,” she said, taking his hand.  At his questioning look, she explained, “when one story is written overtop of an older one.  This print is a remembrance of my Uncle Lamb and his love for me.  And now, when I look at it, I’ll be reminded of your love as well.”

“Aye, just so,” he agreed.

***

Claire was unaccountably nervous as Jamie began to unwrap her gift.  She’d felt certain she’d picked just the right thing for him; personal without being sappy, meaningful without being extravagant.  But with eyes still misty from the thoughtfulness of his present to her, she was having doubts.

“Tis rather heavy,” Jamie observed as he lifted the rectangular package onto his lap.  His eyes were alight with childlike glee, which was a gift unto itself.

“A chess set!”  His smile was genuine, but Claire’s heart plummeted.  What kind of woman bought her lover a chess set?  She began to stammer.

“I... ummm... I thought you could invite your friend John over to play.  You mentioned missing the challenge, and ummm....” she broke off, floundering, but Jamie paid her no heed.  He was lifting each wooden piece from its velvet resting place, inspecting its shape with a look of utter fascination.

“Where did ye find this, Claire?” he asked at last.

“Oh, uhh, online, actually.  It’s from a store in Inverness, but of course I wasn’t able to...”

“It’s Culloden,” Jamie interrupted.

“Errr, yes.  I thought, you know, a chessboard is a tactical battlefield.  And with you being Scottish and your family’s Jacobite history...”

“Claire, this is the most amazing chess set I’ve e’er seen.   Look here.  See this wee knight?  Tis a Scotch Hussar.  An’ the white king is the Duke of Cumberland.”  Jamie’s finger traced the words and images carved on the plinth of each piece, going on and on about the clans represented by the tacksmen pawns and his own grandsire, Lord Lovat, symbolized by a tiny strawberry carved on the base of an ebony rook.  Claire’s ribs began to loosen their vice-grip on her lungs.  Maybe she hadn’t horribly miscalculated after all.

“Sassenach, thank ye.  Truly.   Tis a grand gift.”  The chess set had finally been set aside and they sat facing each other, hands gently caressing as the winter sun slowly warmed the room in tones of blush and grey.

“You’ve very welcome.  I’m so relieved that you like it,” she replied with candour.

“I love it.  But no’ half sae much as I love ye.”

“I love you too.”  It was only after the words had taken flight from her lips that she realized she had never said them aloud before.  Not to Jamie, whose sudden stillness indicated that he had heard her.  It was too late, then, to pluck her soaring words from the air and cage them once again inside her heart.  Too afraid to meet his gaze, she concentrated on smoothing her palms over the backs of his hands in a hypnotic rhythm. 

His response, when it came, was whispered into the secret stronghold they had built together.

“There’s naught on Earth tae compare wi’ the gift of yer heart, mo nighean donn.  I want ye tae ken that I shall treasure it, an’ ne’er give ye reason tae regret placing it with me for safekeeping.”

Jamie lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed them both sweetly.  Still looking down, she nodded her acceptance of his pledge, a single tear escaping from the tip of her nose.

It was well past sunrise by the time Claire rose from their bed a second time, kissing her sleeping lover goodbye before creeping out of their flat and into the gemstone light of a perfect Christmas morning.

[zet-sway]

@the-wip-project day 42:

What’s an an old idea that you've discarded?

Idea: Thane is dead. Shepard fucks off to the Citadel, gets drunk as fuck, sleeps with a drell man who (in the right lighting with the right amount of alcohol) looks vaguely like Thane, wakes up in his house, and has a complete breakdown. Timeline here is vague, maybe post-war???? I don't know.

Tumblr doesn't put dates on drafts so I don't know specifically when I had this idea, but I'd wager sometime around 2013-2014. I actually wrote most of this fic but I never did write a complete ending. After the WorstYearsOfMyLifeTM in 2017/2018, I decided I don't want to finish this idea. So this fic is incomplete and will stay that way.

About 1300 words-ish.

Warnings: Shep engages in sexual acts while drunk. The epilogue where she regrets her actions may be triggering for some folks. I will place a warning before that portion.

The old crew doesn’t worry when Shepard doesn’t answer her calls again.

It’s close to midnight when she blunders into him - he’s tall, lean, and not quite as firm as she remembers, but through her blurry vision, through the haze of intoxication, it’s almost him.

Words slip past her mouth and she struggles fruitlessly not to slur them. “Hey.”

He acknowledges her with a quiet stare and she watches his dark eyes.

"Are you into humans or am I just wasting my time?" She says, or tries to say.

The corner of his mouth turns upward and he speaks, uttering some kind of sly, overconfident and probably rude praise of her body. His words aren’t important after she gets the idea that he won’t throw her off him when she shuts him up with a bold kiss.

She slides neatly into his lap and he spares only a moment’s hesitation before pulling her closer and returning her kiss in earnest. Her fingers slide over his shoulders, trying to ignore the woven fabric that feels so different than the smooth leather she remembers. There’s too much alcohol on his breath for her to taste him properly, and it’s probably better that way. His hands smooth down her hips and over her backside, pulling her roughly against him as he kneads her flesh. His venom swims through her blood and the combination of his poison and the shots she’s taken is absolutely perfect. She feels more comfortable, her skin feels light. She sighs into his mouth, gripping his neck, his face, crushing his lips against hers. Surprisingly, he reciprocates. Scaled hands tangle in her hair, testing it's texture before using it to tug her closer. The pressure feels exquisite. He tugs her head back, baring her throat.

"I've never been with a human before," he mumbles as he nips her collarbone.

Her response is slurred. "Interested?" He tugs her hair sharp and she gasps loudly.

"Oh hell yeah."

Gasping, she moves his hand to her breast. "Here," she says. "We can get to the rest when we... ah.. when we find a room."

He gives her flesh an appreciative squeeze, testing the weight and fullness of her breast in his hand before planting his hands firmly on her ass and standing, lifting her clear off the ground. She barely manages to grab her drink before he's carrying her out of the club.

His apartment is a decent journey into the wards. She hardly notices the time has passed after she gulps down the rest of her drink and climbs into his lap. The cab driver makes a small noise of disgust before tinting the window.

She's giggling in her drunkenness when they arrive at his door. In the harshly lit hallway, he pushes her roughly against the door, while he fumbles to swipe his omni-tool over the entry and then they're stumbling inside, lips locked, falling on a couch or a chair or something soft and sturdy. It's dark inside, shadows passing over the dim light filtering in from Zakera as cars whiz by the window. She can't see him clearly - what color was he again? Green - that must be it. Green and chartreuse and emerald and all the familiar colors the seem to warm her hands and seep into her blood as she drags her palms over his scaled shoulders.

He's not Thane, but she's too far gone to remember that. In the dark, the thundering of her blood drowns out the sounds coming from the apartment above them. He's utterly fascinated with her hair, hands tangling in the tousled strands, apparently in favor of undressing her - but that's okay, they'll get to that eventually. It's not like she has anything he's never seen - they've done this a million times.

His venom swirls behind her eyes and he swipes his tongue over her lower lip just before catching it between his teeth. He's an aggressive kisser; his lips are firm and bruising and she loves it. As her head swims with the alcohol and venom in her blood, she swears she's never felt anything better.

It's a struggle, but she manages to untangle him from his shirt. He's horizontal now. When had that happened? His scales, greyed from the low light, are laid out before her like a field of stars. She pushes the shirt over his head and leaves it to tangle between his wrists as she flings off her own shirt and bra.

His dark eyes widen as her skin is bared. She pinches and rolls a nipple between her finger and misses how he bites his lip in anticipation because then she's slinking down his body and undoing his pants. Every breathy groan that passes his lips drives her need higher and higher until she can't stand it anymore and she crawls back up the shadowed expanse of his scales and then his hands are free and roaming all over her.

Lips locked again, they tumble off the cushions and she finds herself beneath him. His lips taste red, like raspberries or apples or emergency lights - she can't really tell after his venom hits her anew.

"Please," she whispers against his mouth, "please..."

Dry air hits her legs as he pushes her pants down her thighs and situates himself between them and then, without any further pretense, he slides home.

It burns so good, just like she remembers. It's like she's drowning in memories of him and it feels like just days ago they were making love against the warm rocks of the desert cliffs. She gasps at the thought, hips instinctively canting into his with each thrust.

It feels like hours before they're both spent. As she lays panting on the floor, exhaustion creeps into her bones and she falls asleep before his warmth leaves her. In the deep recesses of her mind, she's sound asleep in his arms - her long dead lover from a life that feels so far away that it may as well have been the memory of another woman.

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Content warning: Shepard is about to regret her drunken encounter. Please stop reading here you think this will be distressing for you.

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She wakes to the bright light of a nonexistent sun, groaning as pain and delirium assault her senses. Her back aches and her eyes are screwed shut in the wake of the mother of all hangovers. But more distressing than the pounding of her head is the hard surface beneath her and the unfamiliar scent of the blanket around her naked body.

"Hey." There's a rustle of movement and a shadow passing in front of her closed eyelids as her clothes, folded and stacked, are placed near her head. "I thought about moving you to the couch but I didn't want to wake you."

The drell before her confirms her fears. Dressed in only a pair of black shorts, he's lean and tall and dark, dark red.

Panic and anxiety bite at the edges of her mind but she compartmentalizes them, along with the pain and fatigue, as she'd always been trained to do. She grabs at her clothes and hurries to dress herself on rashy and reddened wobbly legs. It hasn't been two minutes before she's pulling her boots on and practically leaping for the door.

He calls after her, but she doesn't even look back. Whoever he is, she doesn't even want to see his face. She can barely hold herself together enough to hail a cab to dock 24, and once she's inside, she doesn't even try.

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And that's it. I think this is pretty dark, and unnecessary. Some people read and respect this sort of angst, I think. I don't want to dig into my to write feelings of loss anymore. I had a 30 minute hysterical breakdown because of a well written fic where Thane dies, I sure as hell don't need to be publishing this. But honestly, from a writing perspective, I think the wordplay has it's moments. Maybe I could adapt this into something more positive.

[saturnwritings]

this might be the end of me but at least i’m trying

—the dream smp finale from tommy’s perspective, with a few stylized changes. aka a short fic i wrote after watching the finale vod, i didn’t really have a plan i just kind of wanted to write.

word count: 1127

warnings: brief descriptions of death (temporary, not permadeath)

Tommy could feel his lungs and throat burning. He was screaming, he couldn’t hear it but he knew he was screaming. He felt something wet on his cheeks as he watched L’manburg, his home, the nation he had helped build from the ground up, get blown up right in front of him. 

He could hear Wilbur’s maniacal laughter as Dream’s vague descriptions of things like ‘traitor’ and ‘betrayal’ were barely registered in his mind, his ears ringing from the explosion. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to turn out, there were so many people on their side, they had Techno’s secret bunker! What went wrong? It seemed like only moments ago that Dream had revealed there was no traitor, that he was messing with them - what the hell happened?

Tommy felt his voice fail as he tried to call out to Tubbo. Tubbo - the only person he felt like he could trust, his best friend, his president. They had to get out there, Tommy wanted nothing more than to grab Tubbo’s hand and run out of there, find a secluded area in a field of flowers miles away and start over, but he knew he couldn’t. 

He had to stay, he had to try to save his country. Tommy clutched his stomach in one hand and a crossbow in the other, the crossbow almost broken, what with everything that had happened thus far. He almost lost his footing and fell into the giant chasm that was L’manburg. 

In the distance he could see the familiar pattern of green and white stripes. Without a second thought, he called out. 

“Phil!”

Tommy didn’t know when Phil had joined, when he had got there, and he didn’t want to think about it. His hand still tense around his stomach, Tommy dropped his crossbow in favour of balancing himself on the nearby blackstone wall.

As stars clouded his vision, his knuckles turning white with his tight grip, he felt an arm wrap around his torso.

(This is where I die.)

He let his body go limp, and the arm around him gently pulled him to the floor. He felt his back press against a body.

(I’ll never get to see L’manburg again.)

His vision was hazy, his ears still ringing and he was so fatigued with exhaustion he could barely lift his arm.

(I’ll never get to see my friends and family again.)

Tommy could feel his heart rate slowing, whether it was him coming down from the adrenaline or death approaching he didn’t know. He let his eyes flutter closed as he worked to stabilize his rapid breathing. The sounds of swords clanging and even more TNT going off was muffled. 

No matter how hard he tried, his breathing was just getting faster and faster.

(You need to breathe. Breathe more.)

More commotion could be heard in the distance, Tommy tried to open his eyes but more tears clouded his vision, he couldn’t keep track of what was happening. He felt a hand cradle his head as the body behind him pulled him closer.

“Shh... I got you, I got you.” 

A new wave of tears welled up in Tommy’s eyes. After everything that had happened that day, Philza’s voice comforting him made Tommy want to sink into a peaceful sleep. Hearing his voice was like coming home after a long and stressful day, like relaxing by the fireplace on a snow day. It was like having a sleepy and relaxing Sunday with his family where they all do their own things in the same room, the way the air would fill with comforting silence and occasional banter made Tommy think those were some of the best days of his life.

Tommy rested his head against Phil’s chest, he felt the man’s arms wrap around his head and waist protectively.

“It’s all gone, Phil.” Tommy whispered. Phil patted his head.

“It’s okay, Tommy. We can rebuild it!” He knew Phil was just trying to stay optimistic, the big crater in the middle of L’manburg mirrored the whole in his heart. He lost his home, Wilbur, he didn’t even know who was on his side anymore.

The sharp sound of fireworks going off distracted Tommy from Philza’s soothing voice. A sharp cry that followed caused Tommy to look up. To his horror, he saw Tubbo lying on the floor beneath Techno, a rocket launched in his stomach. From the fact that Tubbo hadn’t ‘poofed’ yet, the blow was not fatal, or else he would have respawned somewhere else.

Tommy’s mind couldn’t even comprehend when Techno’s chilling laughter filled the uneasy atmosphere. With wobbly arms, Tommy gently pushed himself off Phil and raised his head only to see Technoblade aim a loaded crossbow to the scattered crowd, the chasm separating him and everyone else. 

Technoblade stood, any trace of sanity gone from his face. Tommy felt a chill go down his spine at the sight of Techno’s unhinged expression, a mix of deranged and outraged. Strands of hair unkempt and falling into his face, loose from his braid. Tommy heard Phil gasp. 

“Alright, listen here!” Tommy felt the air around him tense, “I did not spend weeks planning this revolution, giving you guys gear, for you guys to go in and replace one tyrant with another!”

Tommy pushed himself up on shaky legs to better see Techno, Phil following him and gripping his shoulder for support.

“Don’t you see what’s happening here? Don’t you see history repeating itself?” He gave another disturbing laugh, “You think Schlatt was the cause of your problems? No, it was the government!”

Tommy’s ears were still ringing, but he could hear Techno’s speech over everything else. Gone was the powerful yet introverted king, the king that avoided social interaction like the plague. He was replaced with an anarchist, he had become what he always said he was, Tommy was just then seeing it.

“Do you think you’re a hero, Tommy?”

Tommy could barely think straight. He never thought Techno would betray them like this, he had always said he was there only for the purpose of chaos, but never in his lifetime would Tommy have predicted that Techno would go as far as to shoot Tubbo a second time. During the festival, Techno had said he was under pressure, there was nothing else he could do.

(No one was pressuring him this time.)

Tubbo had disappeared from under Techno, Tommy could only hope that he spawned somewhere safe. His heart was beating so hard it almost hurt, his legs were still shaky, but with Phil’s arm supporting him he felt at least a little protected from Techno’s wrath.

“Do you want to be a hero, Tommy?” Techno paused to smirk, “Then die like one.”

Phil’s grip tightened.

a/n: hey haha first mcyt fic bc its just been mcyt brainrot in my mind for the past few months :]] anyways yeah I SPEEDRAN THIS FIC like i finished the vod (cause i couldnt watch the finale live) at like lunch time and now its like almost 1am i kinda got distracted!!!!!!! i also got kinda lazy at the end so i might come back and edit but i wanted to post this in the first 24 hours :D the title is also subject to change.

[snowdice]

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 25]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. Chapters 3-8 and what I have of Chapter 9 are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

Alright. I have a midterm that is due in 24 hours so we’re going to be going quite a while today. I’ll probably even stay up late since that class is canceled in the morning and I’ll sleep better if I go to bed at 2am with it done then I will if I go to bed at 10pm with it not done. I have a lot of water, tea, and snacks. Feel free to send me Lo-fi playlists because I’m not sure what vibe I want today and took 15 minutes to pick out my first one. XD

Chapter 7

“Him,” was the only thing Janus said before taking off after the figure who had just disappeared into the game area.

“What?” Remus’s voice followed after him. “Janus! What?!”

Janus did not pause, just continuing to run after Pat, hopping over two barricades as a shortcut. Janus cursed when he lost sight of the man for just a moment near the prize table filled with colorful goldfish, but he was able to spot him once again walking into one of the tents. Janus blasted into the tent. It was a game where they raced rats, and when Janus entered, Pat was cooing at one of them.

 “Who’s a tiny little squishy precious baby?” he was asking one of them, wiggling his pointer finger at it.

“You,” Janus growled stepping up to him.

He turned and tilted his head at Janus with a frown. “Um, me?” he asked, pointing to his chest, all sorts of innocent, but Janus could see a spot of hidden amusement in his eyes.

“Where is it?”

His eyebrows drew together, but it was an act. It was clearly an act! “Where is what?”

“The…” he glanced around them at the people surrounding them. “Thing you just took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Pat said with a frown.

 “Oh, no,” Janus said. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fooling me twice is not an option.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Pat said. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bull. Shit.”

Just then, Remus jogged into the tent. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“It’s him,” Janus said pointing. “He took it. He has it.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pat said. He looked over to Remus with a confused frown.

Remus looked at Janus. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “It’s him. It has to be him. He’s the mask guy.”

Remus squinted at Pat. “He is?”

“Whoever you think I am, I’m not. I haven’t worn a mask all night. I just did the face paint,” he pointed to his cheeks.

 Remus raised his wrist and his timepiece lit up green. He looked at Janus.

“I lost sight of him for five seconds. He must have stashed it somewhere,” Janus said. He turned on Pat. “Where did you put it?”

“…Are you,” Pat asked, his eyes going back and forth between Janus and Remus, “… the police?”

“We are, actually,” Khalid said as she stepped into the tent. Remus must have called her. She inserted herself between Janus and Pat. “Agent Khalid,” she said, offering a hand with a smile. Pat looked at it in surprise and then smiled back hesitantly as he took it. “Apologizes, one of the big game prizes was stolen by someone matching your description. Would you mind coming down to security for questioning? Just to clear it up.”

 “Oh,” Pat said, hesitant. Janus expected him to refuse outright, but then he said. “Uh, sure.”

“Thank you very much, Mr…”

“Jonas,” Pat told her earnestly. “Do I need to be handcuffed?”

“No,” Khalid said. Janus frowned at her, but she ignored him. “It’s just a talk for now.” She gestured to the tent entrance. “Come with us.”

He did without argument, and Remus and Janus followed behind the both of them. Khalid did not lead them back to the base, but to a little spot that said “security” near the center of the event. Remy was already there waiting for them at a desk.

 “Remy, would you please take Mr. Jonas to go sit down?” she asked.

“Sure, boss,” Remy said, standing up. He led Pat away.

Khalid turned to Janus and Remus once they were out of earshot. “What is going on?”

“It’s the mask man,” Janus said, “the one from 1923, and my scanner said the time bomb was on the Millenia Bird outside the games entrance, but then it was gone the next second, and I saw him, and then he ran away.”

“So, does he have it on him?”

“No. I lost sight of him, and he must have stored it somewhere, but I know he took it.”

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“He’s the man from 1923?” she asked.

“Yes! Remus, that’s him, right? You recognize him.”

“Well,” Remus said thoughtfully. “He was in a mask, and it was dark in the room with the necklace. Other than that, I only really saw his back, and he was wearing pants. Mr. Jonas is wearing a dress, so I can’t really tell if their asses match.”

“Okay, but I was with him for hours. I swear it’s him, and I swear he took it,” Janus just about shouted.

“We’ll question him,” Khalid placated, “and Fred and Lena will keep looking in the meantime.”

 “He knows where it is,” Janus insisted. “I swear.”

“Okay,” Khalid said, before leaving to follow where Remy and Pat had gone. She stopped Janus with a hand on his shoulder. “I think Remus and I will do the interrogation.” He opened his mouth to argue. “You know the most about him, so observe from the sidelines and see if he makes any mistakes that indicate you’re right.”

“That’s just to placate me and you know it.”

“Observation’s over there,” she said pointing.

He got a thumbs up from Remus as he walked by, and Janus glared at his back before walking off to the indicated location.

 He watched as Remus and Khalid entered the room, and Remy left it. Remy joined him in the observation room after leaving and leaned against the wall.

Pat was sitting at a table and watched Remus and Khalid with that same rubbish placid confusion that he had before. “So,” Khalid said, “Mr. Jonas.”

“You can call me Nick,” Pat interrupted.

“Lia,” Khalid replied. He smiled at her happily. “So, are you enjoying your day?” she asked.

“I am!” he replied. “It’s a big day. You only get to see the turn of a millennia once in your life.”

“Ah, yes,” Khalid said. “Doing anything special for it?”

 “Um, not really,” he said. “Other than the party. I’m going to meet up with my roommates after dinner. Kevin doesn’t like this sort of thing, and Joe couldn’t come.”

“Your roommates,” Khalid said, considering him. “Do you live around here?”

“Uh huh,” Pat replied.

“Do you have any ID?”

“I do, want me to get it?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Pat unzipped one of the bubbles on his waist and handed her a chip. “Remus, would you mind going out and getting the ID scanner?” she asked, even though her timepiece would be able to read it.

“Ah, shit,” Remy said. “Props. What do those things even look like?”

 As Remy scrambled to find something that would pass for an ID reader so “Nick” didn’t get suspicious of Khalid using her timepiece, Janus watched the two alone in the room like a hawk.

“I see you’re wearing a dress inspired by the 2770s,” Khalid noted, as Remus came to stand next to him.

“Yeah!” Pat replied. “Joe made it for me. He’s really good at fashion design!”

“Can I see?” she asked.

With a happy smile, he reached over the table to let her get a look of the sleeves. Janus saw her subtly scan the fabric, probably to make sure it was from the 2990s and not actually from the 2770s. Considering she didn’t mention it, Janus assumed it checked out.

 Remy came back with some sort of device then and handed it to Remus who saluted and wandered back into the interrogation room. Khalid pretended to scan the ID in her hand. She handed it back to him without comment. “So, you said you live with your roommates: Joe and Kevin?” she asked.

“Yep!” he replied. “We’re practically like brothers.”

“Would you mind calling them?”

“Erm,” he titled his head like he was confused by the question. “Well, like I said, Joe is a bit busy, but I could definitely call Kevin.

“Here,” Khalid said, “use my phone.”

“I have my own,” he said with a frown.

“Humor me,” she requested.

“Uh, okay,” Pat agreed. He took the offered 2999 phone and dialed a number on it. Khalid reached over to put it on speaker.

“Hello?” a voice asked after a few seconds.

“Um, hey Kevin, it’s Nick.”

There was a sigh on the other end. “Hello Nick, is something wrong? Why are you calling me from someone else’s phone?”

“I’m fine, I think.” He looked up at Khalid. “Why am I calling him exactly?”

“Hello, I’m Officer Khalid,” Khalid said. “I just wanted to confirm that you are Nick Jonas’s roommate, and he does live in Manaus.”

“Yes, we live together with our other roommate,” the man replied flippantly. “Officer? Is something wrong?”

“I believe there was just a case of mistaken identity,” Khalid said.

“Bullshit there was!” Janus hissed, though she could not hear him.

“No need to worry,” Khalid continued.

“I’m good Kevin,” Pat said.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Kevin asked.

“Don’t be Paranoid, Kevin. I’ll see you Tonight for the New Years Celebration. You know I Live to Party.”

“I am hanging up now,” Kevin said.

“No! Comeback.” The line went dead. Pat handed the device back to Khalid.

She took it and smiled at him. “Give us just a couple of minutes,” she requested. He nodded easily, and she and Remus exited the interrogation room. “I… think we’re done here,” Khalid said.

“No, he’s lying,” Janus insisted, and got a dubious look in return. “I know he is! Remus!”

“The alibi is pretty solid…” Remus said, “and he doesn’t have the bomb on him.”

“Oh, come on,” Janus said. “You can’t say there is nothing fishy going on here.”

Khalid and Remus shared a look. “Janus,” Khalid said. “I respect your intuition. It is usually very good, but you have been a bit intense about the man from the 1920s, and I think that may be blinding you a bit...”

“I am not imagining this!” Janus said. “That’s him and he took it.”

“You only met him once while he was wearing a mask,” Khalid pointed out with a frown, “and you didn’t see him take the bomb, did you?”

“No, but he looked at me and I knew,” Janus argued. They both gave him a skeptical look. “Oh, come on!”

“You know that’s a little weak, Jan,” Remus said.

“Let me talk to him,” Janus requested. “Just give me five minutes to talk with him.”

Khalid raised one eyebrow. “Fine,” she agreed. “You have five minutes, but after that, you have to let it go. We can’t waste any more time.”

 Chapter 8

Pat looked up as Janus stepped into the interrogation room. “Hi,” he said with an innocent smile that could cut steal.

Janus didn’t say a word as he took a seat; he just watched him intently. He leaned slightly over the table and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “So, your name is Nick this time?” Janus asked.

“Nicholas Jonas,” he said. “Always has been.”

“Stop it,” Janus said.

“Stop what?”

“Cut the crap. I know.”

Pat leaned forward, mirroring Janus as he leaned closer, interlocking his fingers and laying his chin on top of his knuckles. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked, pleasantly.

 “Janus,” Janus replied.

“No, I’m Jonas,” he said, pointing to his chest.

“Not Jonas,” Janus spat. “Janus.”

“Um,” Pat said, eyes alight with amusement. The bastard. “Those are the same words.”

“No, they’re not. It’s Janus. J-A-N-U.-S.”

“Well, that’s confusing,” Pat said with a frown, but his nose was crinkling. “It’s close to my name. You should go by a nickname instead.”

“What?” Janus said. “No.”

Pat hummed. “How about Love Bug?”

“What! No!” Janus sputtered, almost flipping the table, as Pat winked at him.

“BB Good?”

“What does that even mean?!”

“Mandy.”

“No!”

“Okay, okay, how about Macy Misa.”

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Janus stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Whatever. What was I even talking about?”

“Hmm. I Believe we were talking about my name and how you think it’s not my name.”

“Right,” Janus said. “So, Nick. That was your roommate, Kevin on the phone, right? He seemed a bit unhappy with you. Any reason?”

“Nah, we’re Cool” said Pat. “That’s Just the Way We Roll.”

“Not because you’re messing up a mission right now?”

Pat’s eyes crinkled together. “A mission?” he parroted. “I’m not messing up a mission.”

“Oh, really?” Janus growled. “Because you’ve been captured by the TPI, and I know who you are and what you’ve been doing.”

“I have no idea what the TPI is,” he claimed.

“Yes, you do!” Janus said, standing up. “You obviously do! Or you wouldn’t be playing this game!”

 “Game?” Pat asked. “Macy I ask you what you’re talking about.”

“This is all just a game to you isn’t it!” Janus said, slamming his hands down on the table in front of them.

“Whoa,” Pat said, putting his hands up. “Calm down. Your face is getting all red. You must be Burnin’ Up.”

“I’m not sure what, but something about what you just said pisses me off.”

“And that is five minutes,” Khalid said, bursting into the room. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and glared back at Remus who was putting his own body between Janus and Pat.

 “There was no way that was five minutes,” Janus growled.

“It was five minutes,” Khalid gritted out. “Remus, get him out of here.”

“Come on Jay,” Remus said, dragging him back towards the door.

“Remus, I swear to god.”

“Just chill, Janus,” Remus said, slamming the door closed behind them.

Janus shrugged him off. “You chill!” he snapped. “He’s playing you all for the fool.”

“Wow, Macy,” Remy drawled like an asshole. “I’ve never seen you so fired up.”

“Oh, my gosh. No one is going to believe me, and he’s going to get away with this.”

“You’re not really helping your case, babe,” Remy said.

 Remus grabbed him by the shoulders again. “Here, let’s go get some water.”

“I don’t want water,” he said even as he let Remus lead him to another room to get a glass of water.

“Look,” Remus said. “I know the Mask Guy thing really sucked, but you have to look at the facts.

“I am looking at the facts,” Janus insisted, “and the facts are, he’s fucking with me.”

“You don’t know what mask guy looks like,” Remus said. “You didn’t see Nick take the time bomb, he has an ID from this time period and a roommate in this time he called on the phone, and he legitimately seems to not know what any of us are talking about.”

 “Did you even listen to our conversation?” Janus asked. “He was screwing with me the entire time!”

“Janus…” Remus said.

“What?” Janus said, narrowing his eyes at Remus’s tone.

“I know you recently had a bad experience, but not everyone who flirts with you is doing it out of evil.”

Janus’s mouth hung open for a few seconds. “That’s what you got out of our conversation?”

“He called you Love Bug.”

Janus felt his face heat a bit at the reminder. “That’s not… I. I’m stealing your cat and then never speaking to you again.”

Remus laughed. “Ah,” he said. “Young lust.”

Janus elbowed him roughly in the side. “No!”

“Yes!” he crooned, pleased.

 “You are the worst partner,” Janus hissed. “When I’m right you owe me 10 loafs of your fresh bread.”

“Branching out from poptarts?” Remus asked.

Janus shook his head. He still wasn’t happy about the state of things, but he could feel himself cooling down a bit.

Khalid came out of the integration room after a few minutes, leaving Pat with Remy. “What was that?” she asked him.

“He got under my skin,” Janus said.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “For now, we’re letting him go and then going back to looking for the bomb like we’re meant to be.”

 “Fine,” Janus relented. “Just do me the favor of tagging him before he leaves. Just that. I beg of you.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “If it will calm you down.”

He nodded.

“Then, let’s go,” she said. When they met back up with Remy and Pat, he saw Khalid make the subtle gesture that would tag Pat like they would have for the Millennium Birds. Pat sent him what could pass as a sweet smile if Janus didn’t know better. Then, they walked him outside, leaving Remy on clean-up duty for the make-shift security office.

“So, I’m free to go?” Pat asked. His bemused expression edged far too much on the side of amused verses confused for Janus’s taste.

 “You are,” Khalid said. “Have fun at the festivities.”

His hands went flapping about. “Oh, you too!” he said. “Well, I guess you’re working, but you can have fun anyway, I’m sure.”

“We’ll do our best,” she said.

He gave her a blinding smile and reached forward to shake her hand enthusiastically. Janus rolled his eyes and looked up at the heavens. “It was nice to meet you!” he said, “and you too, Remus!” He turned to meet Janus’s eyes. “Macy Misa.”

Janus pressed his lips together.

Then, Pat turned and walked away.

“Well, now that we’re done with that,” Khalid said, turning to them. “We have only a few more hours before midnight and we really need to find the time bomb.

 “Oh,” Pat called. He’d paused a few yards away and turned back to them. “Thanks for letting me go so easily by the way,” he said, “and just in the Nick,” he winked, “of time too.” Janus narrowed his eyes at him. He smiled back. “Wrist check,” he said holding up his arm to show off the timepiece there. Khalid immediately looked down at her own wrist just to see that the one timepiece that could move through the time lock was no longer there. Pat made a gesture and disappeared.

All three of them stared at the spot he’d been for a long moment.

Janus was the one to speak first. “I want. The yellow. To be erased. From my record.”

 Chapter 9

Khalid immediately called everyone back to base.

“What happened?” asked Fred when he and Lena arrived. The tech people were already scrambling to get through to the TPI and get the time lock broken from the outside.

“Remus, Remy, and Khalid got played by Pat or whatever his name is. It certainly isn’t Nick. He was just setting up a joke,” Janus told him.

“Stop being smug,” Remy said. “It’s not a good look for you.”

“Pat is…?” Lena asked.

“They guy who fucked me over in 1923,” Janus said, “and is currently in the middle of fucking us all over because he stole the pin timepiece, and by extrapolation, probably the time bomb too.”

 “It will be fine,” said Khalid, “because what he doesn’t know is that timepiece has a tracker on it. Wherever and whenever he went, we’ll have his coordinates.”

“Speaking of,” one of the techies said. “It’s about to break. You might want to hold onto something.” Janus grabbed for a support beam next to him as the techie put a device on the ground in the center of the base. It blinked once, twice, and on the third blink the ground rumbled. There were sounds of panicked yelps outside. The fail safe for the time lock was not nearly as gentle as ending it correctly.

 Everything settled after a few moments, and they all straightened themselves out. Janus’s timepiece buzzed to indicate it was now functioning normally. Khalid had returned her usual timepiece to her wrist and now used it to open a display they could all see. “The pin timepiece’s closest time/space coordinates are…” she trailed off. “Right outside?” She frowned. “That’s strange. Why would he still be here?” She turned to march outside, following the coordinates to a trash can. She pulled the pin timepiece out and stared at it. “Fuck,” she said.

“What just happened?” Remy asked.

“He ticked us,” Janus said. “Again.”

 “He was stuck in the time lock,” Khalid said. “That’s why he got our attention. He couldn’t leave with the time bomb unless he had the pin timepiece or we broke the time lock. Apparently, he’s smart enough to know that if he took the pin timepiece away from here, we’d probably be able to find him, but he knew we’d break the lock as soon as the pin went missing. So, he must have stashed his own timepiece and went back in time within the time lock to grab it while we were distracted with the past version of him. As soon as the time lock went down, I imagine he left.”

 “Probably with the time bomb,” Janus said.

“Probably with the time bomb,” she confirmed.

And everyone knew the only thing worse than a time bomb was a time bomb you didn’t know the location of.

They evacuated after that, of course, and time locked the location once they were out just in case they were wrong, but midnight 3000 struck without thousands of people dying in Brazil, so the time bomb had defiantly been removed from then.

The, they initiated a time travel lockdown for all nonessentials, not willing to let random history students get caught up in an explosion if Pat decided to set the thing off somewhere.

 Then, it was a matter of figuring out everything they could about ‘Pat.’ First, they checked the tracker data as Khalid had tagged him with one of the Millennium Bird trackers. It wouldn’t work outside of the zone they’d set up that day, but the record would show his behavior during the time lock after he’d escaped with the pin timepiece.

There had been many little green dots on the map that day as Fred and Lena had actually been doing the job they’d set out to do, but most of those were running around in the south. There had been one green dot, however, that appeared suddenly in the game area about 10 minutes before the time bomb had been stolen.

 They could see Janus’s yellow dot almost brush his when he’d been chasing the earlier Pat down, around when he’d lost him briefly. The earlier Pat must have all but handed it off to his future self.

“He doubled back,” Remus commented when they watched the recorded data. It was a ballsy move and one that most people balked at, because there were inherent dangers any time you interacted with yourself from a different point in the timestream. It was ripe for paradoxes. It made everyone at the agency even more worried, because if he was willing to risk that, then what else was he willing to do?

 Because of the lockdown of all nonessential time travel, people working for the TPI were not allowed to go home for the night. They were allowed to pick up anyone or anything dependent on them for care like kids and pets if there wasn’t someone in their home time to care for them, but other than that, they were unfortunately all sleeping in their offices for the foreseeable future.

“You are the only tolerable one,” Janus told the cat who upon being let loose in the office by Remus, immediately jumped on Janus’s lap.

“I have literally done nothing to you,” Lena said, but then added. “Yet.”

 “You exist. In my space.”

“Can’t we just all get along?” asked Fred. “It’s only been an hour past when we’d usually go home. I went and grabbed milk and I have my giant thing of different flavored hot chocolate under my desk. We can try them all and vote on which is better.”

“Fuck your hot chocolate, Fred,” Janus growled, having been one of the three who had chipped in to buy it for him on his last birthday.

“Don’t go after Fred, jackass,” Lena spat.

“He’s just testy because his boyfriend escaped,” Remus contributed.

Janus’s lips turned down into a frown and he cupped Diesel Fuel’s face. “We agree we’re eating him first, right?” he asked her.

 She purred her agreement.

“I’d have it no other way,” Remus replied.

“There is plenty of food,” Fred said, sounding stressed. “In fact, I was thinking we should all chip in on ordering take-out soon. “What does everyone like on pizza?”

“This is not a slumber party, Fred,” Janus pointed out.

“Shut it,” Lena snapped and turned to Fred. “I’m fine with almost everything, except…”

“Bananas and tuna salad!” Remus interrupted.

“…whatever Remus is about to say.”

Janus rolled his eyes as that started a debate about whether or not fruit and/or fish belonged on pizza. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, which was when there was a knock on the door.

 He froze when he heard the familiar voice. “Hello, hello,” said Emile, cheerfully. Janus looked up to see Emile standing at the open office door. Shit. Apparently, the man had decided to give up on sending lackeys to come fetch him and had decided to track him down himself when Janus couldn’t even escape without breaking a time lockdown. They met eyes briefly and Janus could see irritation if not anger in his eyes despite his otherwise cheerful expression and tone.

“Janus,” he said when he’d gotten their attention. “I’d like to have dinner with you.” The word choice told Janus everything he needed to know. Usually Emile was careful with how he said things to make sure people knew they had a choice. Typically he’d say something like, “I was wondering if you’d have time to have dinner with me tonight,” or “I’m about to go get food, would you like to come?” Today, there was no choice in the statement.

 Janus still dried to dodge anyway. “Uh,” he said. “We were actually about to order pizza.”

“Go ahead,” said Fred kindly. Janus wanted to strangle him. “We can order pizza with olives if you’re not here.”

“I…” said Janus. “Guess, I’ll be going with you.”

“Great!” Emile said. “Let’s go.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “Uh, now?”

“Now,” Emile said a bit of uncharacteristic steel to his tone.

 Well, Janus was screwed. He swallowed his nervousness and got to his feet, taking Diesel Fuel with him. He turned to hand her off to Remus with a plea in his eye, but he just got an eyebrow raise in return. Traitor.

Then, he followed Emile out of the office door. “What would you like to eat?” asked Emile.

“Uh,” Janus said. “I don’t know. You asked me to eat, don’t you have any ideas?”

“I don’t actually,” Emile replied. Right.

“…Noddle Bar?” Janus threw out the nearest restaurant he knew.

“The one noodle restaurant? Sure,” Emile answered simply. They walked side by side out of the front doors of the TPI building. Janus actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken these stairs. He usually used his timepiece to get in and out.

 The noodle bar was only moderately busy at this time. They were quickly able to find a table near the back and Emile pulled his menu up in front of him. Emile hummed as he flipped through the different displays. “What are you having?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said, only then pulling up the menu himself, but still not quite looking at it.

“What about the fortune noodles,” Emile suggested.

Janus shook his head. “I don’t like those,” he said.

Emile glanced at him through the menu displays. “You used to.” Fortune noodles were a bit cheekily named. They didn’t actually indicate anything about your future. They were just supposed to taste like what you wanted from your future. A grad student might experience a feeling like they’d just aced a paper. A child that they got to stay up an hour later that night. Janus had liked the experience when he was younger, but in recent years, he’d begun to taste the underlying chemicals in the dish until that’s all he could.

 “Well,” Emile said lightly, eyes on his menu. “That makes me even more worried for your mental health than I already was because of the almost three years of you avoiding talking to me.”

“No small talk, huh?” Janus asked.

“Forgive me,” Emile said, eyes now focused on Janus, and tone much darker. “How has your life been since I last saw your face 5 months ago during a business meeting and you refused to look me in the eye? Anything interesting happen? Shave your head and let it all regrow? Develop an allergy to peanuts? Join a convent and take an oath of silence that you only just broke today?”

“No,” said Janus quietly into the table.

 “Great,” Emile said clipped. “Small talk over. Order your food.” Janus reached up blindly to select the first thing that came up on the food and drink menu as Emile punched something into his own and both menu displays disappeared, meaning there was nothing between their faces anymore. “You know, I was willing to give you a year,” Emile said. “I was willing to let you deal with it on your own because I thought eventually, you’d come talk to me about it, but apparently I was mistaken. The next year, I thought maybe you thought I didn’t want to talk to you, so I subtly made myself available, and you never took me up on the offer. I thought maybe I was just not being clear, and I should make my desire to talk to you more explicit, but as you have been routinely, clearly avoiding me at every single turn, I’ve decided I’ve had enough. So, let’s lay it all on the table. Is it me or do you need help?”

 Janus closed his eyes. “It’s not you.”

“Then you need help,” Emile concluded.

Janus shook his head.

“Yes,” Emile snapped. “Whatever this is has gone on far too long.”

Janus stood up and slammed his hand down on the table. “And it’s going to keep going on!” he said. The food popped up at that moment. It appeared Janus had ordered lasagna and bubble tea, and Emile had ordered something with spaghetti and a fizzy drink.

“So, you’re just planning to go on being miserable then?” Emile asked, and Janus wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that he didn’t sound angry anymore.

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Janus slapped his hand down on the “To Go” button and his dinner was insta-wrapped by the table. “Yes,” he said.

“What exactly do you think you’re paying penance for, Janus?” Emile asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Janus said, paying for both of their meals with his fingerprint.

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” Emile said. “All you’d have to do is talk to me. Or even just talk to someone else. Please.”

“Just…” Janus said, grabbing his bag of food to avoid looking at him. “Just, leave me be.” He walked out of the noodle shop without another word.

 Chapter 10

“And I thought Remus was going to be the most disgusting roommate in this equation,” Lena grumbled. Janus and Lena were apparently the earlier risers in the group as Fred was still curled up around a pillow and Remus was sprawled out under his desk.

Janus flipped her off.

“Protein infused Poptarts and caffeinated orange juice for breakfast?” she asked. “Just eat an energy bar and have a cup of coffee like a normal person.”

He took another pointed bite of his Poptart.

“You’re a horrible roommate. This is why they gave us different partners.”

“Yeah, well you snore, asshole,” Janus said after finishing off his meal.

 “I’d tell you to go eat shit, but you already did that once this morning.”

A pillow flew across the room and somehow managed to hit the both of them. “S’op fighting,” Fred mumbled. “It’s sleep time.”

“It’s morning Fred,” Lena said.

“No,” Fred mumbled.

Janus ignored them, turning back to his integration port to continue to keep plugging in phrases of interest, but he kept getting nothing.

“What are you doing?” Lena asked after a few moments of him huffing at his screen reader.

“Trying to do anything that may change our current living arrangements.”

She puffed out an amused breath. “Can I help?”

 “Can you see any connection between these words and phrases?” he asked, pulling away his screen reader and tapping at the words he’d typed out.

“Paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback, love Bug, BB good, Mandy, Macy Misa, I believe, cool, that’s just the way we roll, burnin’ up,” she said. “What are these?”

“They’re things Pat said when we interrogated that struck me funny,” Janus explained. “I feel like he was saying something more than what he said.”

“Hmm,” she said. “PTI for the first three?”

“Maybe,” Janus agreed, “but what about the rest of it? I feel like I’m missing something.”

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“Millennia,” Remus mumbled from under his desk. Janus hadn’t been aware he was awake. “He said something something about it being the only time he could see the change of the millennia.” He turned his head to look at Janus. “Considering he’s a time traveler, that’s definitely a weird thing to say.”

“Millennia,” Janus contemplated. “A different turn of the millennia. Oh no.”

“What?” Lena asked.

Janus sighed, and rubbed his temple. “I know someone who studied the 1700-2200s.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No,” Janus groaned, “because now I have to go talk to him.” He stood with a sigh and then paused. “How do I even get to Silver Mountains University without my timepiece?”

 Luckily Sliver Mountains ended up only being about an hour away from the TPI by time adherent travel, but considering Janus was used to his travel being instantaneous, it was an aggravating trip. He had to show ID and be buzzed up to the fourth floor since it was usually locked to everyone not traveling by timepiece or who worked in the office.

The receptionist was the same man as before. “I’m here to speak to Professor Eran,” Janus said.

The receptionist nodded. “He mentioned you asked to meet him but didn’t know when you’d arrive. He’ll be done teaching his class in about 5 minutes. You can wait over there.”

 Janus nodded and sat, waiting for time to slowly tick by. Virgil arrived after a few minutes, lugging a giant bag with him. He caught sight of Janus and wordlessly jerked his head towards the hallway. Janus followed him.

“What’s in the bag?” Janus asked.

“Early 21st century cell phones,” Virgil said, dropping it on his desk. “I let my students mess around with them for their lab.”

“I see,” Janus said.

“What did you need?” Virgil asked. “You said it was official business.”

“You’ve heard about the lockdown, I presume,” Janus said.

“Yeah, it really screws up my research schedule for the summer,” Virgil said.

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“Do you know why the lockdown was instituted?” Janus asked. Virgil shook his head, so Janus explained briefly that they had been trying to find a timebomb on the eve of the year 3000, but it had been swiped by a free agent time traveler. “Some of the things seemed to be references to things that I couldn’t place, and I was wondering if you would recognize any.”

“Shoot,” Virgil requested, seeming intrigued by the prospect.

“Okay,” Janus said. “First, the alias he was using was Nick Jonas.” A weird expression crossed Virgil’s face immediately and Janus paused.

“You said the year 3000?” Virgil asked.

 “Er. Yes.”

“Nick Jonas. Year 3000,” Virgil repeated with a snort. “Were Joe and Kevin a part of this too?”

Janus blinked. “Yes, how did you know that?”

“Yo-you’re going to have,” his sentence was broken by a giggle, and actual full-fledged giggle, “have to give me a minute.” With that, he sort of listed to the side and seemed to purposefully fall off his chair onto the floor under his desk.

Janus blinked and when he didn’t surface after a moment, he stood up to lean over the desk and look down at him. Virgil had his arm thrown over his beat red face, as he shook from what Janus thought was suppressed laughter.

 “What?” Janus asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Virgil said, sobbing through his laughter. “Just tell me the things he said.”

“Er, mostly he just had weird inflections on words and phrases. There was ‘paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback…’”

“Wait, stop,” Virgil said. “Let me guess a few. That’s Just the Way We Roll, Burnin’ Up, Sucker.”

“The first two were, but not the last one.”

Virgil laughed. “Maybe the last one was just implied.”

Janus frowned down. “What are you talking about? What does this all mean?”

Virgil pulled himself out from under his desk and grabbed his bag of phones. He dug through it for a few seconds before pulling one out and handing it to Janus. “I have a lab for my students where they get preloaded phones from the early 21st century and are supposed to guess the demographics of the person who owns it. This one is an iPhone 3 meant to belong to a pre-teen to teenage girl from the year 2009. Look under music artists starting with the letter ‘J.’”

15810

Confused, Janus scrolled through the old style phone, finding the music app and opening it easily. Upon getting to the ‘J’s, he immediately paused on an artist called the ‘Jonas Brothers.’ He clicked on it and read a few of the song titles. They weren’t all there, but…

“That rat bastard,” Janus said.

“Scroll to the bottom,” Virgil said. Janus did and found a song titled ‘Year 3000.’

“You’re kidding me.”

“Click on it,” Virgil requested.

Janus did, listening to the fairly standard pop like intro from the time period. It wasn’t until he got to the lyrics saying, ‘He told me he built a time machine’ that he cursed, understanding exactly what Pat had been doing. When the singer a few lines latter proclaimed that his neighbor said ‘I’ve been to the year 3000’ he almost smashed the artifact to pieces right then and there.

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Virgil said, “but he’s a comedic genius.”

 Chapter 11

Khalid caught him on his way back into the TPI building. “I heard you went to Silver Mountains to follow up on a lead,” she said.

“Yeah, but it was garbage,” he seethed. “All I learned was ‘Pat’ knows early 2000s popular culture and likes to fuck with us.”

She hummed. “I’d still like a report about whatever you found. Who knows what we might end up getting from seemingly inconsequential data.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I have a mission for you.”

“We’re on lockdown,” Janus pointed out with a frown.

“For nonessentials,” she said. “This is essential.”

 “What happened?” Janus asked.

“We picked up a small time distortion in France 2027. At the moment, it is small enough not to cause any disruptions, but it is slowly growing, and we don’t know what caused it. Usually we’d just send surveillance agents at this stage, but considering what’s going on, I think it would be best to send a field agent. And it would just be you, because we don’t want to send too many people out at once.”

“Is this related to the time bomb?” Janus asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “At the very least, it’s not it being set off as it was in 2999, but if it’s been altered for some other purpose…”

 “I’ll go,” Janus said.

“I’ll send over the mission directive to everyone who needs it. You’ll go in around 3 hours.”

He nodded. “I’ll be ready,” he agreed.

In less then 3 hours, he was dressed for 2027 France and in decontamination. “Well,” he said out loud when he was given the all clear sign, “I hope I don’t explode.” He selected the coordinates on the timepiece and the next moment he was in a small alleyway in the city of Montpellier, France in 2027.

It was a little bit warm, but not stifling even in the mid-afternoon and he could faintly smell the sea on the breeze.

 After a moment to get his bearings, Janus made his way out of the alleyway and onto a small street. The street was lined with restaurants and shops as people went about their daily lives. He carefully integrated himself into the crowd and began weaving his way through them. He needed to find the source of the distortion but doing a quick scan with his timepiece told him there wasn’t any sign of it yet. He’d have to wait for it to act up.

For now, he decided to get slightly away from people by heading towards the river. He found a park that had benches along water.

 As he walked towards the river, he noticed a man on the bench, angled slightly away from Janus and looking out at the water. He immediately recognized the man. “You!” he exclaimed.

Pat’s head shot around to look at him, and he gave a slight head tilt. Then, he smiled, amused. “You are not the person I’m here for,” he said.

“Well, I am now,” Janus snapped. “Where’s the time bomb?”

“Time bomb?” Pat asked, eyebrows drawing together, but amusement on his lips. “Oh sweetie, the time bomb happened a long time ago for me.”

“What?” Janus asked.

“Oh, you’re just a baby,” Pat laughed. “Don’t you get it yet? The two of us are out of sync timeline wise. You’ve been apparently running around with a much younger version of me, but all of that happened quite a while ago for me. Don’t worry though, it gets better.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The time bomb has been long deactivated. Here,” he reached into his pocket and tossed him something. Janus caught it on instinct. “Proof. Don’t worry, we took all of the dangerous bits out years ago from my perspective.” It was the core of a time bomb, the time bomb Pat had stolen if he was to be believed. “You can tell your people it’s safe to remove the lockdown.”

Janus curled his fingers around it. “I don’t get it.”

Something on Pat’s wrist beeped and he looked at it curiously before he stood from the bench, “and I don’t have time to explain it.”

Janus jerked forward to grab his wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

Pat reached up to pat his face. “Don’t worry honey, you’ll be seeing me later.” He twisted his wrist and a small electric current sparked between them. Janus jerked his hand away, and Pat smiled at him. “Or… earlier.” He winked, and then he was gone.

Janus cursed, but he didn’t have more than a moment to be angry because in the next second there was a yelp, and something landed on top of him. He was bowled over into a tangle of limbs and pained noises.

“Oh my god, we need to figure out the height thing,” a familiar voice groaned, just as Janus managed to pull himself away. Pat blinked up at him and his eyes narrowed. “You,” he hissed.

“…What?”

 Pat jumped to his feet, leaving Janus on the ground in front of him. “What are you doing here?” he spat, his tone much different then the one he’d been using a moment earlier. His hair was longer than it had been before, and if Janus looked closely, he did seem like he was a couple of years younger suddenly. Out of sync timelines. I’ll see you earlier. Holy shit.

He was suddenly very glad he’d been forced to let the other Pat (the older Pat?) go, else they’d have a whole thing on their hands.

“What are you doing here?” was Janus’s retort as he stood up and dusted himself off.

 “It’s none of your business,” Pat told him.

“It is my business,” Janus said, “because for all I know, you are the cause of the time distortions I’m after. Considering that I doubt you have a license for that,” he waved at the odd looking timepiece of Pat’s wrist, “it’s very possible.”

“What are you?” Pat asked, “the time police.”

“Yes.”

Pat dared to roll his eyes, but then he tilted his head slightly. “Time distortions?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

He still had a confused frown on his face. Did… did he not know what a time distortion was?

 Just then there was a sudden flash of lightening through the sky despite the absolutely lack of clouds. He and Pat both looked up.

“Is that the time distortion?” Pat asked.

“It’s probably the beginning of it,” Janus said.

“That doesn’t look good,” Pat said as he squinted at the sky.

“Just wait,” Janus answered grimly. He looked at Pat. “Usually I’d arrest you on the spot,” he said, “but I’m alone for this one, and that is far more important at the moment. So, have a nice day doing whatever bullshit you are doing.” He glanced at his timepiece.

 Janus turned to walk away from him.

“Wait!” Pat exclaimed, and Janus turned back to him to see that his eyes were wide. Janus raised an eyebrow. “So, this time distortion thing is dangerous, right?”

“Depending on the severity, it could cause time to fracture around this place and time, basically erasing it from existence and killing everyone in it.”

“Well, in that case, I should go with you. To help.”

Janus looked him up and down. “You… have no idea what’s happening, do you? You’re an amateur.”

“I’m not,” he claimed. “I just. Pooling resources. You know?”

Janus sighed. “Well, you going around mucking about this time period without knowing what you’re doing could just exasperate the situation, so fine, you can tag along.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled even as he rushed to Janus’s side at the permission.

“Sure,” Janus said with an eyeroll. He guessed he was a babysitter now. “I believe you.”

 Chapter 12

There was something off about his readings. Clearly the time distortion was starting to pull at this place with the way the weather was flickering between storming and sunny, but he still couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact location of the source of it. He could, however, get that it must be somewhere on this side of the river more into the downtown area, so that’s the way he was walking, Pat close on his heels.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.

Janus shot him a glare. “Elvis Presley,” he said.

Pat frowned, clearly knowing who that was. “There’s no reason to be mean.”

 “You did it to me first.”

“…Introduced myself as a famous musician?” he asked. Janus didn’t respond, and after a moment, Pat laughed lightly. “You really don’t understand time travel, do you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janus said. “Name the three types of time distortions.”

“Just because I don’t know the names of things doesn’t mean I don’t understand them.” He stuck out his tongue. Janus was dealing with an actual toddler. “Unlike you who has a bunch of fancy words, but just caused a time loop.”

Janus scoffed. “I did not just cause a time loop.”

“Maybe not a big one,” Pat agreed, “but you did.”

 Janus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never introduced myself to you with a musician’s name, but now you’ve told me that I will. So, at some point in the future I will have to, thereby making you think to say that now. Time loop.”

“That’s not… that doesn’t count.”

“Does too,” Pat claimed. “Like I have said once before and you may or may not have heard me say before, anything you do to me to get back at me for something I haven’t done yet, just causes whatever that is to happen in the first place.”

“But you’re still going to do it.”

 “Then take it up with future me. I haven’t done anything to you.” Then he paused and sighed. “…Which I guess means you’ve done nothing to me.” He seemed to mull this concept over for a long moment. “Well you were a bit crabby about me not knowing what a time distortion was, but I can forgive you for that.”

“And I’m supposed to forgive you?”

“Like I said,” Pat said. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You also haven’t done anything to endear yourself to me either,” Janus grumbled.

“Hmm,” Pat said. “Fine.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “You’re obviously not having much luck finding whatever you’re looking for. Tell me what it is and I’ll help.”

Janus squinted at what was in his hand. “Is that… an iPhone 5?”

“No!” he said. “It’s super-secret time travel tech disguised as an iPhone 5!”

“We’re in 2027,” Janus said. “Not a great disguise. Those things have been obsolete for a decade.”

“Well I’ll keep in mind to have my tech disguised as phones from the right year next time,” Pat said, sticking out his tongue. “Now what are we looking for?”

“If my timepiece can’t find it, I’m certain yours can’t.”

 Pat rolled his eyes and tapped on the device’s screen a couple of times. “I’m going to guess it’s that,” he said proudly.

Janus leaned over to look at the screen. “Are you using google maps?” he sputtered.

“It integrates time relevant data like traffic conditions and local weather warnings with time travel technology,” Pat explained. “Something seems to be going on in a museum a couple of blocks that way.”

“I…” Janus said. That was actually a really good idea, usually unnecessary with scouts observing that data beforehand, and Janus wasn’t sure how good the accuracy would be considering whatever was taking it into account was automated, but still a good idea. “Well, I guess since we have no other leads, we can check it out.”

 Pat looked far too proud for having only used a piece of tech that hadn’t even been confirmed as accurate. “Then, let’s go,” he said right as a chilly wind started to pick up and a couple of snowflakes began to fall around them. “Before that gets worse…”

Janus let Pat lead with his iPhone. Janus’s timepiece still wasn’t picking up a clear signal for some reason, but it seemed to point in the same general direction as Pat’s. Strangely though, as they got closer to their destination, the signal started to get fuzzier. Pat’s tech seemed unaffected leading them closer to the museum.

 When they got to the Musée Fabre museum, Janus stopped. “What?” Pat asked. He was shivering slightly in the cold and holding his arms around himself.

“My timepiece stopped working completely,” he said.

“I’m assuming that’s weird?” Pat said.

“It is,” Janus confirmed, turning to squint at him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not the one doing it?”

“If I was doing it, wouldn’t I have just knocked it out from the get go?” Pat questioned.

Janus pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. “Would you have? Maybe it’s a trick.”

Pat’s eyes narrowed a bit on him. “Think what you want, but I’m freezing. Come in with me if you want.”

 He dithered from a few moments before following Pat inside. Pat had already struck up a conversation with the woman charging admission into art museum. She was looking at him, her brow knit as he spoke. Janus nudged him away from her getting a confused glance from him in return. He shot a smile at the woman.

“Two adult passes for the museum and the Hotel Sabatier d’Espevran, please,” he said, placing down 14 euro.

“Ah,” she said, still looking at Pat oddly. “Yes sir.” She gave them the passes and Janus quickly shuffled Pat away.

“What is wrong with your French?” he hissed once they were out of earshot.

 “What?” he asked, bewildered.

“You sound like you’re reading Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. No one talks like that anymore.”

“I’m a little rusty,” Pat defended himself.

“Two centuries?” Janus asked. Pat stuck his tongue out like a child once again. “Is that your only way to respond to legitimate criticism?”

“What does it even matter anyway? No one ever expects time travel, at least not for something so silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Janus said. “It’s a legitimate issue. The wrong person who’s watched too much science fiction notices and you’re putting the timeline at risk. Not to mention if there are other time travelers around that aren’t as nice as me.”

 “Are there a lot of time travelers around?” Pat asked, sounding intrigued.

“There are plenty, both legal and not.”

“Huh,” he said, “but what are the chances we’ll run into another one?”

“Considering the time distortion? There could be many. Opportunists wanting to capitalize off the chaos, people trying to stop it, like me, and not to mention the person who caused it.”

“Wait, someone made it happen?” Pat asked.

“These things don’t just happen naturally.”

“Huh. So, something like this has to be caused by a person?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “…Why?”

Pat smiled. “No reason. I think we should head upstairs. Whatever I’m picking up says it’s around here, but I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s a floor or two above us.”

“Which is why it’s ridiculous to use Google Maps.”

 “Would you rather use yours?” he asked sweetly.

“I’m still not convinced it’s not your doing,” Janus growled. “Why does your tech still work when mine doesn’t?”

“Probably the same reason the ring did,” he muttered.

“What?”

“What?”

“You may be the most aggravating being in the universe.”

Pat glanced at him with a bit of a smirk. “I can’t tell you,” he said. “It would be a much bigger risk to the timeline than me speaking in French from the 1830s. But, I’m pretty sure the reason mine still works is just a software difference.”

“What the hell do you mean a software difference?”

 Pat opened his mouth, doubtlessly to supply him with yet another frustratingly cheeky and unhelpful answer. Yet, Pat did not have a chance to do so as, just as Janus stepped onto the second floor of the museum, the ground started to violently shake. Janus tried to turn to catch Pat as the other man’s foot slipped on the last step, but he couldn’t do so in time. Pat fell onto his hands and knees, sliding back a few steps and smacking his face into the stairs hard once and then a couple of times more after that as he slid.

 Chapter 13

The room stopped shaking after a moment. “Ow,” Pat said. He seemed a bit stunned but was still moving at least. He carefully maneuvered himself into a seating position. “Ouch. Owie.” He reached up to poke his own nose. “Ow!” Janus slapped his hand away when he got there. A bit of blood was already trickling from his nose and there was a small cut over his eye, but it wasn’t bleeding too much.

Janus pushed him so he was leaning slightly forward and produced a pack of time appropriate tissues from his pocket. He pulled one out of the package and offered it to him.

 He took it and pressed it up against his nose to try to stop the bleeding. He seemed mostly alright though Janus imagined he’d have plenty of bruises down the line. The power in the museum flickered and Janus looked up. Now that he was listening, he could hear people panicking in and out of the museum.

“We should probably get off of the stairs,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Pat agreed. Janus helped him to his feet, and they climbed back up the steps. Janus looked around and found an employees only sign a few feet away. Usually he’d not risk that as it could get him into trouble he didn’t want to be in, but considering the earthquake that had just happened, he could probably play it off as panic.

 He ushered Pat into a small room and found a chair and table. He had Pat sit in the chair and pulled out another one of the tissues to dab at the blood coming from the cut over his eyes. “Here,” he said. “Hold that there. I’m going to go see if there are any bandages about.”

Pat took the tissue with the hand not already holding one to his nose. “Thanks,” he said.

Janus nodded and got to his feet. The lights flickered once again but didn’t stay off for now. He didn’t know how long that would last.

 He couldn’t see anything that might hold bandages in this room, but there was a second door. “I’ll be right back,” he told Pat, exiting through it.

The lights flickered once more as the door closed behind him and he cursed. When they came back up Janus’s eyes immediately fell on a man. They both froze.

“Remus!” Janus hissed the second their eyes met. “What are you doing here?”

Remus blinked at him for a moment. “Hi. Janus,” he said. “I… come to France for… tea sometimes?”

“There isn’t any tea back here.”

“So, there isn’t…” he said. There was a moment of silence. “Uh, so I actually cannot talk to you right now.”

 “What do you mean?” Janus asked. Remus grimaced in a way Janus had never seen from him before. It immediately set off alarm bells in Janus’s head. “Oh my god,” Janus said. “Oh my god. You’re not from the same time as me.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Remus mumbled.

“Holy shit, you’re looping?!”

“It’s… not looping if I wasn’t here the first time.”

“Remus, we spend more than 12 hours a day together most of the time. The only thing worse than this is if I looped back to this time myself.”

“…Yeah. Anyway, I need to leave now.”

“Please do.”

 He turned to go, but then stopped. “Oh, and,” he reached into his pocket and tossed something at Janus. Janus caught it.

It was Band-Aids.

“Oh, shit,” Janus spat at the clear use of foreknowledge. “I hate this. I hate you. I’m going to kill you the next time you see me.”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Go.”

He did, slipping into the next room while Janus took a deep breath and then turned back to the door behind him. He schooled his face before Pat looked up. “I found some Band-Aids.”

Pat nodded and Janus came over to squat next to him.

 Janus opened the box and Pat looked down. His eyes lit up with sudden joy so intense that Janus felt like he’d just gotten a punch to the gut. “Kitty Band-Aids!” he exclaimed. Janus bothered to actually look at the design on the container, only to note the cartoon cats on the front. Pat was almost vibrating off his seat. “Look they’re all so cute!” He grabbed the container from him to inspect the different designs printed on the back with glee even as a bit of blood was still trickling from his nose.

Janus took the box back gently and guided the wad of bloody Kleenexes back to his nose.

 “Which would you like?” Janus asked.

“Oh, they are all so cute,” Pat cooed. “Um, how about that one!” he pointed. “Or that one! Or that one!”

“Pat you only have one cut.”

“But they’re all so cute!” Pat said, tongue tucking into his cheek. He contemplated the box again. “Let’s do the black one,” he finally settled on.

Janus selected one of the Band-Aids with a black cat wrapped around a pink ball of yarn and staring back at them with wide green eyes. The think looked like it had partaken in one two many doses of catnip, but Janus didn’t mention that.

 Instead, he just carefully unstuck the backing from the Band-Aid and motioned for Pat to remove the tissue from his forehead. He smiled at Janus as he drew back.

Janus cleared his throat. “How’s the nose.”

“It’s slowing down,” Pat replied. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Janus replied. They met eyes for a second before Pat looked away back at the box of Band-Aids.

“Oh,” Pat said. “There’s a grey one. I didn’t notice.” He pointed to it. “I should have used that one.”

“Do you like grey cats?” Janus asked.

“I like all kitties,” he said, “but one of my roommates loves grey cats. He had one when he was a kid and thinks of them as good omens. Seeing one always brightens up his day.”

“A friend of mine has a grey cat,” Janus said. “She’s much more tolerable than him.”

Pat laughed a bit. “Don’t be mean,” he said.

“Oh, he deserves it, don’t worry.” Janus considered him for a moment. “Here,” he said, pulling out one of the Band-Aids with the grey cat on it. It did, actually, look a lot like Diesel Fuel.

“But I don’t…”

Janus just shrugged and stuck it on his cheek where there was no wound. Pat giggled and touched it with a finger. Janus stood back up.

“Can I have another tissue?” Pat asked.

“Sure.” Janus handed a tissue over to him and he crumpled up the bloody ones in his hand.

“I think I’m good to keep going,” Pat said, putting the new tissue under his nose. “The nose will stop soon.”

 Pat got out his iPhone and directed him back out of the room. They checked the second floor and didn’t find anything and so went to the third floor. The second they arrived in the room that Patton’s phone was directing them too, Janus knew that it must be right. There was a strange, distorted whirling sound and the entire room was shaking slightly like they were standing next to a railroad track.

“I’m guessing this is it,” Pat said.

Janus nodded and looked over his shoulder at the screen. They both cautiously walked towards where the little dot was on the phone.

 “Is that it?” Pat asked, pointing at a small device on the center column in the room. Janus reached forward to flip the switch on it. The whirling stopped and the room settled. Janus’s time piece vibrated as it came back online. They waited for a few moments. “I assumed… time distortions would be more…”

“They are,” Janus said. “This one is artificial.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a simulation,” Janus said. “It causes similar symptoms to a time distortion, but it’s not actually fracturing time at all.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Pat asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said. He took the piece of tech of the wall and carefully stored it in his pocket, “but someone’s trying to get our attention.”

 Chapter 14

20204

Janus didn’t feel comfortable leaving France 2027 just yet, still weirded out by the strange turn of events. So, he and Pat ended up sticking around for a couple of hours. They looked through the art museum for a bit, but Janus was having trouble focusing on the pieces, and Pat eventually suggested they get some air. Janus agreed considering the museum would close for the night soon anyway.

They wandered around the downtown for a bit. The people seemed to jump back from the strange weather and earthquake that afternoon rather quickly, and there were plenty still about to blend into.

[nose-bandaid]

stud.hui.o fanatic

hello!! i see that your requests are open so,,, could i request a non-romantic gender-neutral reader & hui scenario where the reader brings food to the studio late at night and convinces hui to eat and get some rest bc everyone is worried abt him? maybe with some platonic hand-holding.........? thank u so much 😖

Hui (Hwitaek) x (gender neutral) Reader - platonic fluff:D | 2.1k words

synopsis: late night phone calls weren’t uncommon when you’re lee hwitaek’s best friend, because more often than not, the man is sucked into the void known as his studio, and it’s your responsibility to drag him out of there.

a/n: hey there anon!! gosh when i say that i loved this prompt i really do mean it, so i hope that you enjoy this fic and that it’s what you were looking for:) apologies for the multitude of italicized words they just felt necessary.

=====

Your phone had to buzz endlessly for a second time to bring you to your senses. It was far too early in the morning for a phone call, and typically, you would’ve just ignored it and gone back to bed. But when you read the caller ID, you begrudgingly hit the answer button.

“Wooseok?” His name came out slurred as you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Hi y/n, sorry to call you at this time, but Hui’s been in the studio literally all day, plus for like, half of yesterday, and we can’t get him to go home and rest. Practice ended like an hour ago, but he’s still in there.” His reply came out in a tired rush, and his voice was hushed as if he was trying to hide from someone. That someone probably being Hwitaek himself.

You caught onto what Wooseok was asking of you. This wasn’t the first time you had to drag him out of the studio. Being his best friend had many perks, way more perks that outweighed the few downsides that came along with it, and one of them was that you now carried the responsibility of kicking some sense into his overworking butt when he fell into this overloaded phase.

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” You answered without asking for any more details and bid your brief goodbyes before hanging up. Then, you got changed into some comfier clothes to match the chillier weather outside and grabbed your car keys.

It was late, and the only restaurant still open on your way to the studio was a small shop next to a karaoke bar, and you stopped by to pick up some fried rice. It wasn’t the most exciting meal out there, but for a 2am dinner run — or rather, breakfast-lunch-dinner run, if you were Hwitaek — it seemed pretty fitting.

When you arrived at the building and made your way to the studio floor, you saw the tall boy sitting on one of the benches in the hallways. He was hunched over, scrolling mindlessly on his phone and you could tell he was trying his hardest to stay awake for his leader’s sake.

You said a soft greeting as you approached him and he sent you a smile before letting a worried expression wash over him again. The door to the studio slightly ajar and Wooseok gestured for you to take a peek into the small gap, placing a warm hand on your back as he stood behind you.

“Just look at him.” He whispered, and you stared at your best friend working away on his computer, seemingly without any breaks to even think about what to do next. He simply clicked a few times, played something, shook his head, and then repeated the process all over again.

You turned back to Wooseok and began ushering him away from the door. “I’ll take care of this. I’m also guessing he hasn’t eaten much—” He nodded in agreement when you said that. “—so I brought some food with me. Go home and get some rest, I know you’re tired, just tell the others that I’ll bring him home... eventually.” You smiled reassuringly, but had to add in that “eventually” because deep down, you knew how just stubborn Hwitaek could be, and getting him out of the studio was a hefty task. Add in the upcoming planned promotions, then you get an even more stubborn version of him to work with — one that doesn’t understand the boundaries between work and self care.

Wooseok nodded slowly and your heart melted at the exhausted expression on his face. They’ve all been working so hard recently, heck, their packed schedules were a constant these days, and you could sense that it was taking a toll on them. Though no matter how tired they were, they always made sure to look out for each other, and you wanted to do your best to help ease at least some of the stress off the group. With a little more convincing, you finally got Wooseok to leave, giving him a hug before he did, and then you turned towards the task at hand. Even though the door was already opened, you knocked once to grab Hwitaek’s attention.

No answer.

You knocked again, this time calling out his name a couple times.

When he still didn’t answer, you gently opened the door all the way and let out a sigh when you fully took in his appearance.

“Hey, Hui.”

Still no answer.

You walked closer to him and leaned over to get a better look at his face. His eyes looked like they were seconds away from slumber, and his head rested on his hand like a makeshift pillow. “Hui? Hwitaek? Hui? Pentagon of Leader? Huiiiiiii?”

You placed the takeout gently next to his keyboard and then slowly nudged it so that it touched his arms resting on the table. When he didn’t respond to that either  — and opted to mess around with the dynamics of the percussion in his composition instead — you stood straight up and let out a huff.

“Lee Hwitaek!” You called boldly and for the first time that day, he took notice of your presence.

“Oh, hey y/n. Could you check if this sounds okay?” He greeted you nonchalantly as if you hadn’t travelled all this way in the middle of the night to see him, and proceeded to play an excerpt of what he had splayed out on the screen. You stood there speechless until the music finished blasting from the speakers and then just stared at his expectant face.

“Hui you need to snap out of it! I know this comeback means a lot to you and you want to get the work done but you can’t do it like this.” You told him exasperatedly.

“What do you mean I can’t do it like this? I’ve always been doing it like this, and it works every time.” He defended, and he replayed the section for you to hear, but you still refused to pay attention to it.

“You do this every time only to have one of us literally drag you out of the studio! And then you face the consequences days later ‘cause your body’s exhausted, your mind’s exhausted — don’t you think you’ll work better if you were refreshed?” You moved his hand away from the mouse when he tried to go back to work and ignore you.

“I just have a little bit left to do and I’ll finish up soon, I promise.” He muttered. It was almost as if he was entranced by the idea of never ending work hours, and Lee Hwitaek was being sucked into the void of his monitor right before your eyes.

“I’ll finish it up soon, my ass. We’ve been best friends for what? 12 years now? I know you’re lying when you say that, and I know that you’ll be sick by the time you ‘finish’ this and then you’ll regret it later. It’s the same cycle over and over again and you need to stop, please I’m begging you, we’ve been through this so many times already.” You tried to calm yourself down. Getting frustrated over his stubbornness wasn’t going to do any good, if anything, it’ll only make the problem worse. He finally gave you his full attention when he noticed that you took a deep breath to collect yourself. Taking a deep breath has always been a sign that you meant business.

And yet he still replied to you blatantly. “If I don’t finish it up all at once, I’m going to forget about it later.”

You rubbed your forehead, trying to get rid of the annoyance that was building up within you. “And then you’re going to finish that part, only to think of another idea to work on right after that. Like I said, it’s a cycle and you need to realize that. Please, I’ll give you 30 minutes to finish what you’re doing and write your notes down, and then we’re going to take a walk, no matter what you say.”

He nodded at your firm tone and quietly got back to work after muttering a small “okay”. You spent the next 20 or so minutes watching him work, occasionally feeding him spoonfuls of the rice you brought, until he finally shut everything down and turned to you to scarf down what was left in the foam container. 

“I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” He pointed out the obvious when there was no rice left, and he stretched before getting up from his seat. You giggled when you heard his joints crack at the sudden movement.

“Geez, you really are getting old, huh? And that’s what happens when you get stuck in sitting in this chair for more than 24 hours.” You lightly smacked his head to get some sense into him. “You don’t take care of yourself and don’t realize that your body needs food.”

He rolled his eyes, giving in to your light scolding. “Okay, okay, you’re right.” 

“Sir, I am always right.”

-----

Not too long later, you were both taking a walk outside the building, entering the quiet night life of the city.

The winter air had a chill to it and you shivered a little, taking Hwitaek’s free hand into yours. He responded by squeezing it gently. 

Small physical affirmations like these have always got you through your friendships. As people who both relied on them as a source of comfort, it’s what allowed you to be as close as you were now. Though there were times where you’d have your disagreements — take the little argument you had earlier — holding hands especially, has always been what you used to remind yourselves that in the end, you still loved each other. That you were still best friends.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” You told him quietly.

He laughed. “What? Am I getting a pep talk now?”

Your cheeks heated at his words and you stopped walking, pulling him into a stop as well. “I’m being serious here!”

He gave you a teasing look. “I know you are, and I appreciate you always coming to take care of me. Even though I’m not in your shoes, I do know how stubborn I can get and how frustrating it must be for you guys to watch me make the same mistakes over and over again.” He let out a sigh and scratched the back of his head. “But some habits are hard to break, yeah?”

You let out a small hum in agreement. It was true, everyone had their own habits — some good, some bad — and while Hwitaek had a fair share of endearing habits, between you and the rest of the boys, his were also the most concerning. You’d all rather have him stay healthy than have him work his soul away on some songs that can ultimately, only do the group so much. And getting him to realize that was a challenge, but it was a challenge you were all willing to take.

Your walk didn’t have a set destination, and you crossed streets and changed directions on a whim, adding more thrill to your little adventure. At one point, you even stopped at one of the convenience stores still open so that he could buy himself a drink. Which ended up simply being a carton of milk after you insisted that no, coffee at 3 am is not going to help him rest at all. You allowed him to at least get chocolate milk though. And you spent your time talking about anything unrelated to his work, sharing stories that you’ve missed during your time apart.

The two of you pretended like it wasn’t the middle of the night and that you weren’t freezing in the cold because neither of you were responsible enough to have prepared layers for the weather. Because so what if it was pitch dark and the only sign of life were the lonely taxis that drove by? If the only sound joining the chirps of the crickets were your laughter and you couldn’t feel the tips of your ears anymore? Your best friend finally had the chance to rest and be himself once again, and you’d be there for him no matter what time of day it was. As long as you got to see his shoulders relax a little and his smile genuinely reach his eyes again. As long as you knew that he’d listen to you, as his best friend, and that he’d let you take care of him when you needed to. It didn’t matter how often that had to happen.

When you turned the corner back to the entrance of the entertainment building, you looked at Hwitaek and nodded your head towards the floors upon floors towering above. “You wanna go back to the studio and work for a little while longer to let me hear what you’ve got so far?”

Getting him to take a break was already a miracle, and as much as you wished he would at least spend the night resting, you felt bad for dragging him out like this. You understood that he probably worked best if he was allowed to follow his train of thoughts without disruption, as bad as that habit was.

Thinking that he would agree to your offer, you were already making your way towards the entrance. But to your surprise, he grabbed your wrist to stop you and instead gave you a relaxed smile.

“Nah.” He pulled you closer to him and slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning into it a little bit. His body was pleasantly warm against yours.

“Let’s just go home, work can wait.”

[tommysparker]

24 and Counting

Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

A/N: Normally I try to keep my fics gender neutral but for smut like this I will be writing the reader as female, mainly because it’s just easier. If you want a male!reader smut feel free to request it. That being said, i am still a virgin and not very experienced so if this is bad, especially with how rushed the ending is, I’m sorry. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :)

Warnings: smut, oral (m) receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kiddos), hints of/implied sub!tom but not really, couple no-no words

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You stared at your reflection in the mirror, confidence radiating as the sunlight trickled in through the cracks in the curtain. 

Today was Tom’s birthday, and you wanted to do something special. Your fellow roommates had already planned out a party with his family and a few close friends. Thankfully the whole Covid situation was easing up and you could allow a couple people over without raising the curve too much. 

The party wasn’t till later into the day, however, so you decided to prepare your own gift for him, one you knew he would definitely cherish. 

Tom groaned lightly as he stirred awake, covering his eyes to avoid the light pulling him out of his sleep. He reached across the bed lazily, trying to pull you closer but froze when he only felt the bed sheets. “Y/n..?” He called out huskily. 

When the groggy voice reached your ears, you took one last glance at the mirror before smirking. It’s showtime. You strode to the foot of the bed, crawling on to the mattress slowly. 

Tom felt the bed dip and opened his eyes hesitantly, only to be met with the sight of your nude body and a little ribbon bow-tie in your hair. His body felt like it just got splashed with cold water with how awake he suddenly felt. Despite that, his brain was still lagging a bit. “What- I mean...huh?” He stumbled, eyes wandering widely as he took in your naked figure. 

“Happy birthday, my love,” You said sultry, hands rubbing the inside of his thighs as you lay between his legs. Lucky for you, it wasn’t uncommon for Tom to sleep naked, especially after the little pre-birthday celebration you and the boys had last night. You watched him, eyes full of adoration but smile dripping with mischief. 

Oh yeah, birthday. Right. That explains it. Tom thought to himself. He remembered how he woke you up on your birthday, only fair that you return the favour...or get revenge. He really hoped it was the former. 

“Y’know...I was planning on you waking up with your cock already down my throat,” You shrugged, hand inching closer and closer to his growing hard-on, “But you just looked so pretty I figured I’d let you sleep in a bit longer and let you wake up on your own time.” 

The birthday boy breathed heavily as he felt the bits of pressure against the head of his dick. He reached down to tangle his fingers in your hair, silently begging for more. “How kind of you, darling.” 

Your smile widened, pressing a feather-light kiss to the side of his cock and ghosting your lips up towards the tip. “So, 24 huh? Getting to be such a big boy now, Tommy. Suppose I should give you your present now?”

Tom nodded eagerly, hips bucking as your hand came in contact with this now-throbbing member. If there was one thing that drove him to the brink of insanity, it was those god-damn barely-there touches. Knowing this, you usually took full advantage of it. 

Dramatically sticking your tongue out, you flicked the edge of it against his head, emitting a small groan-mixed-whine from the boy in front of you. “Now, baby boy. Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to give you your special birthday licks, and you aren’t gonna cum until I’m finished. Understood?” 

Tom whined pitfully, but nodded nonetheless. You loved to tease him, and god have mercy that you wouldn’t prolong whatever you had planned. 

“Oh, and you also have to count each one. If you skip a number or mess up, that’s all you’re getting for this morning.” 

Well, fuck.

And so it began. Your hand cupping his balls as your mouth descended onto his cock. He was practically leaking already, and it took almost all of your will-power not to lick up every bead of pre-cum that dribbled down his shaft. You were planning on making this game last. 

The thing was, there would have been no issue until you told him he had to count. That was the cruelest thing you could do to a man, especially on his birthday. Tom is so responsive, his mind goes practically blank and is flooded with euphoria, so forcing him to actually use his brain instead of being able to lay back and fall into the warmth of pleasure was utter torture to him.

“O-one..” You heard him breathe out as you finally gave in and licked a strip up along the underside, following a small bit of pre-cum and revenge has never tasted so sweet. 

This continued on for what felt like hours to Tom, your mouth moving up and down on his cock, hand pumping in time and on occasion he would feel your tongue against his burning skin, and each time he nearly forgets to count the next number down. What’s next? Five? 15? He couldn’t tell anymore. All he could focus on was how fucking good your throat felt around him. 

You could tell he was about to lose it, the way his words jumbled together, abs twitching and the grip on your hair was a dead give away. Normally, you would’ve pushed his hand away but considering it was his birthday you let it slide. You found yourself finding it harder and harder to ignore the aching between your legs as you pleasured your lover. 

“Oh fuck...uh s-seventeen? No- eighteen? Shit...love please m’ gonna- m’ gonna cum- oh!” He cried out when you gave a rather harsh suck on his tip. He looked down at you with hooded eyes, back arching off the bed and he swore he saw stars. 

You eyed him closely while you licked your way down his cock, mouthing at his balls while your hand kept him stimulated. The sight of him falling apart at your touch would never get old. 

“L-Love, pleasepleaseplease, god- fuck, can I cum? Please, l-let me cum,” He begged desperately. He was at your complete mercy. “It’s my birthday, please.” 

You hummed thoughtfully, weighing the options in your head as you continued to tease your boyfriend. On one hand, you wanted him to pay for the relentless teasing he put you through on your birthday, but on the other you wanted more than anything to jump on his cock and ride him into oblivion. You decided on a third option, both. 

Tom’s brain barely registered how many times he felt your tongue hit his dick. The movement was swift, and he was so far gone in the cloud of lust he barely remembered the consequences of forgetting to keep track. “U-uh….n-nineteentwentytwenty-onetwenty-twotwenty-three,” He was so close. He could practically taste the sweet relief. “Oh god darling please just one more...one more baby please.” 

“You gonna cum baby boy? You wanna feel my tongue on your cock?” 

“Yes yesyesplease,” He continued pleading. Tears pricked at the edge of his eyes from how hard he was holding back his orgasm. You hummed, the vibrations triggering his nerves in all the right ways and he was so close. 

It amazed him how his body reacted to your touch. You played him like an instrument, pushing all the right spots to get him to moan out. You could read him like a picture book, and he wondered how someone so amazing as you could stand to be with someone like him. You were there for him through and through, and he adored you for it. 

But in moments like these, where he was right on the edge, he couldn’t hate you more. Of course, he doesn’t actually hate you, it was just the sexual frustration that was starting to take a toll. He was an impatient man, after all. 

You noticed right as you pulled away, rubbing his thighs while he squirmed and whimpered. You smirked, gripping his cock and bringing it up to your lips. Locking eyes with him, brown and desperate meeting dark with lust and mischievous, you stuck your tongue out and licked a final, long stripe up from his balls to his tip, swirling around his head before pulling away. 

Tom moaned, bucking up into the air. “Fuck...make me cum, darling come on please i-it’s starting to hurt.” That wasn’t a total lie, the builded pressure in his balls was starting to ache, but it was a good kind of ache, not that he would ever admit it. 

“You were so good, handsome. I think it’s time for the real gift,” you smiled as you straddled his waist, pumping his cock while you lined it up at your pussy. “Can you feel how wet I am for you?” 

He definitely could, you were practically dripping and all he wanted to do in that moment was bury his dick in your pussy as deep as he could. Turns out, you were gonna do that for him. 

You slowly sank down, giving yourself a moment to adjust. In that time slot, Tom lost all self-control he had and grabbed your face, smashing your lips onto his. A noise of surprise escaped your throat before reciprocating. 

Tom held your waist while you started moving on his cock, moaning as he felt your walls tighten around him. “Fuck, Y/n m’ not gonna last…” 

You hummed in response, kissing his neck and increasing the intensity of your actions. “Give it to me, birthday boy.” 

With that, Tom flipped you over and started pounding into you, chasing his release. He buries his face in your neck, leaving chaste kisses and moaning freely against your skin. He felt your nails dig into his shoulders, hot scratches trailing down his back as he thrusted harder. 

You were a moaning mess beneath him, a small cry passing your lips every time he hit that spot. It didn’t take long for him to release a final moan before cumming, triggering your own orgasm. 

Tom pulled out carefully once you both finished, dropping onto the bed and panting heavily. “Best. Present. Ever.” He grinned at the ceiling, turning his head to look at you. 

You were already gazing at him, taking in his post-sex look and dear god it was gorgeous. “Happy birthday, Tommy.” You smiled, cupping his cheek with one hand and pulling him in for a light kiss before getting up. 

“Hey where are you going?” 

“To shower. You coming?” 

You were going to be the death of him, and he loved you for it. 

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Happy Birthday Tom Holland!!

All: @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @angel-spidey @parkerpeter24 @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​ @the-panwitch @rebekkah4766 @hollandsamor @spideygirl2003 @theactualprincessofeverything

Tom Holland: @rubberducky-jrr @quaksonhehe